——$———____— ) nerve, ch of a yy aue ler the nd wo- swel of ldition ne has 3 worst ls look ry the n 1530, ‘farther finally a@ mar og wil l right to the rapids July 4, trund- haling oO be.” ¥ you r has the ex- » phys peat COS Pete s wee > chell loritcte. Ones, oming lieve 's the 1 ex island, abited ho at- lc that fF upon s. At ” “Ty bd a ‘The ; LOT PO pn a ge en, On on , rite it j } is sea- { “So } poet, re th tedll 1d ow " ser jack pidge Lige) WSO) ») my oll LIne toe rtol ‘ cl ast WM. MURRAY GRAYDON’S Story Begins Next Week. “SS KY ES -FR 7h SA ee S . 9) SEV Ba Ne cpio Te? AT) > , - shy 40 OM. , : / He ‘ a 3 iy | yt Oe ii? L PIAR\ » = es mA AY ee Entered According to Act of Congress, in the Year 1893, by Street & Smith, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. O. Entered as Second-class Matier at the New York, N.Y., Post-Office. ~ — > Seg ae Peet net Gta tuto ue ae Oe es nena Net seR st hat NONI Ne tet ewes Ne EE Ee Linge Uf Nl CTA S In thes Tae as nem es aahag eee er, WO gh Rg tM ye Othe Se ee ee ee he ae eae Cl ln lat thd nl el satin atleast IO EAT AT OO GE CLT O OO Nh Weg SO hg Bg EE COE ER EOE R ET Rare st ett ee ™ neat aetna - Vol. 7, a nae See ew York, June 3, 1893. egrets? No. 161, eee ee ee ee at ° Or, TREASURE HUNTING IN HAW TIL. BY LIEUT. JAMES K. ORTON Author of “Between the Lines,” “Beach Boy Joe,” “Tom Havens With the White Squadron,” “Last Chance Mine,” ete. eR ah Rah Rah Hat MO ee ee we EOE Me sha gh HFT I Rg Pt GETS TOME tase eee eat eet teeters Peat ee tue teem ee “ee siti WE ress j i | MANN AN | “DO YOU MEAN TO SAY THAT THE CAPTAIN AND THE MATES DESERTED THE 3 CREW?” CAPTAIN MANSFIELD ASKED, WATCHING THE MAN SHARPLY. CHAPTER III. A MESSAGE, of yachting in the river and sound; but the violent leaps and plunges of. the schooner was something so entirely differ- ent from what they had been accustomed to that all power of resistance was lost immediately giddiness and nausea seized their victims, Therefore it was that the first. two days out were not particularly enjoyed by the i RES : : ty : ene E 5 —= = THE SHIPWRECKED PARTY, ‘AFTER QUARRELLING (3 AMONG THEMSELVES, MADE A RUSH FOR THE BOAT. Kix escaped a severe attack of sea-sick- i! ness when the Day Dream was toss- “=> ing about on the Atlantic swell. (“THE SECRET CHART” was commenced last week.) Both had indulged in a certain amount es ie is not to be supposed that the boys : a astonishment, 2562 boys; but, at the expiration of that time, even the suggestion of fried salt pork failed to disturb them, and once more they were in a condition to speculate upon the possibility of finding a buried treasure. That old Andy had not succeeded in going ashore they knew, because of hav- ing seen him several times; but his fears had not been aliayed, as could be told by the expression on his face. He had the appearance of one who fancies he is mea- aced by a sudden and immediate danger, and glanced from time to time over his shoulder, looking, as Nelse expressed it, “as if he believed half a dozen pirates were trying to sneak up on him.” Half an hour after their first appear- ance on deck since the yacht left Sandy Hook, the boys paid the cook a visit, and hardly were they inside the galley when he broached the subject uppermost in his mind by asking: zi “Has you’se done gone tole de captin *bout wha’s gwine ter happen ef dis yere schooner fools ’roun’ de shore ob Hayti?” “We haven’t done much of anything else than attend to our stomachs for the last two days, Andy,” Gil replied, with a laugh. “Why don’t you speak to him about it?” “T’se had ernough ob dat kin’ ob work. De night we done lef’ port 1 tole him as how dis nigger wouldn’t stay aboard, an’ by jes’ de po’est. kin’ ob luck dere was a rope’s end handy fur him to grab.” Andy rubbed his back, thus preventing any necessity for further disclosures, and the boys laughed heartily, thereby caus- ing the old man to lose his temper. “Dere ain’ no fun in dem tings, an’ de captin’'s gwine ter fin’ out de se’rus side ob life ef he keeps dis yere craf’ headed | ; | began to fear the treasure hunting would be brought to an end before it had really like she am now,” “Tt’s foolish for you to troubie your head about what we may find in Hayti,” Nelse replied, earnestly, “for even in case we should touch at the very spot where these voudoos hang out you needn’t yo ashore,” “Dey kin cum at yer anywhere,” Andy said, with an ominous shake of the head, and then he turned so suddenly in order to look over his shoulder lest the phan- toms of the pirates should be pursuing him, that he nearly toppled headlong, As a matter of course the boys enjoyed this hugely, and their mirth only served to kindle his wrath anew, Ye closed his thick lips tightly as if to say he would not allow himself to be coaxed into speaking again, and Gil was on the point of trying to soothe him when a shout from above caused him to remain silent. “The captain says the boys are to come on deck and see what we have picked up.” Gil and Nelse obeyed hurriedly, and were not a little surprised at seeing nothing more than a dead bird lying on the main hatch. — “Did you shoot it?” Gil cried, in sur- prise, wondering how it happened that they had not heard the report of fire-arims. “It was dead, floating, and we picked it up,” Captain Mansfield replied. “What for?” “TI saw that something ‘red had been tied under the poor thing’s wing, and wanted to find out what it meant, By doing so we shall be able to rescue seyv- eral unfortunate men from considerable suffering, if not death,” “What do you mean?” Gil asked, in - astonishment, and in reply his father held up a 3mall piece of brown paper. “This was what we found wrapped in a tarred cloth, with a bit of red flannel to attract attention, The cord was a piece of gut, whicb has swelled until the mes- senger choked to death.” Gil took the paper almost reverentially, and, as Nelse looked over his shoulder, read the following: “Shipwrecked men on Walker Key at the - northern slope of Little Bahama Banks, dying from thirst.” - This message from the sea, brought by a bird, and discovered only by the merest chance, caused the boys the most intense and Gil asked, breath- -lessly: “Do you believe it can be true, father?” “People do not do such things for - sport. It must have cost them consider- able labor and ingenuity to catch this gull, and if they are yet. alive we’ll soon relieve their sufferings.” “Are you heading for there now ?” “Yes, and it is very nearly a true course for us. We had only to shift ths helma couple of points.” “When shall we arrive?” “ “To-morrow noon, if this wind holds, Go into the cabin, and by looking at the chart which is spread out on the table you will learn exactly where the sufferers were when this gull was set free.” ‘he boys went below, after looking once more at the bird which had per- formed its missinn even in death, and en it was not difficult to ascertain very nearly the position of the schooner, for GOOD NEWS. “We can’t be delayed very long,” Gil said, after they had gratified their curi- osity, “for if the men are yet alive they’]] be ready to leave the key at a moment’s notice; but I suppose it will be necessary to put them ashore some where before we go to Hayti.” “You are talking as if we knew exactly where to find the place marked out on the paper we found.” “Well, don’t we?” “T wouldn’t like to say that I do.” “Tt doesn’t seem as if there could be any question about it. ‘The piece of news- paper referred to what had taken place on the Tortuga de Mar, and the fragment of chart showed that island——” “Yes, and a portion of Hayti as well.” “But the drawing represents a small body of land.” _ “Look at it again, and you'll see that only a part has been shown, How do you know it does not represent the end of some other key ?” “The newspaper shows that.” “I don’t think so,” Nelse replied, firmly. “What we read was the story of how buc- caneering first came abuut, and, of course, it was necessary to speak of the small key where it had its birth.” “If that was its only use, why did the owner of the things we found keep it so carefully?” “Probably to show his shipmates that at least a portion of his story was true.” Until this moment Gil had had but lit- tle time to speculate upon the supposed treasure, owing to the fact of his having been taken sick so soon after the discov- ery in the attic was made, and now a very unpleasai:t doubt came into his mind, It no longer seemed such an easy mat- ter to find the place designated, and he conimenced., “T shall believe the Tortuga de Mar is the place until we have searched over it pretty well,” Gil said, after a long pause, drawing must-refef to some spot on the island of Hayti.” “But what about the voudoos which are causing Andy so much alarm?” “What’s that?” a voice asked from the companion-way, and an instant later Captain Mansfield was in the cabin, “Where did you boys ever hear anything about voudoos?” “Andy says they'll kill us if we attempt to so much as anchor near where any pirate hoard is supposed to be hidden,” Gil replied, with a laugh. “So that is why he insists on being put ashore?” the captain said, half to himself. “Ts there any real reason why he should be afraid?” Nelse asked. “Certainly nof. It is true that there are a large number of negroes, more especially in Hayti, who believe in that sort of mumimery; but you can “hunt for the creasure just as long as you please with- out fear of being molested by any of them.” “And you are willing we should make the attempt?” “Dig away as much as you please; but I fancy a couple of days’ work will give you all the searching that’s needed.” “Will you help us find the spot as shown by the drawing?” “T’ll spend a short time at it providing we have safe anchorage for the schooner.” This was even more than Gil had dared to hope, and his spirits revived wonder- fully. “then we sha’n’t have any trouble in bringing away a lot of gold,” he cried, and from that moment until if} was time to retire, save when they were eating, he and Nelse studied the tracing on the piece of brown paper. When the boys “turned in” the wind was blowing steadily from the same quar- ter as when the message from the ship- wrecked ones was received, and there ap- péared to be no doubt but that the Day Dream would make the key at the time set by Captain Mansfield, ‘Even the idea of the treasure did not prevent the boys from thinking very much of the sufferers whom they hoped to be able to relieve, and on awakening next morning the first question was as to whether the necessary rate of speed had been maintained. : “We'll be there on time,” Captain Mansfield replied cheerily. “Before twelve o'clock we shall have performed .a good deed at the expense of but litrle trouble, or have the satisfaction of knowing we did all that was possible ‘under the cir- cumstances,” Old Andy seemed to have resolved that he would find cause for fear in everything which happened. “We'se gwine straight to de debble,” he grumbled, when the boys spoke with him about the shipwrecked men. “Dere’s no use ter try an make me tink a bird knowed ennf after he was dead to float alongside dis yere schooner so’s we could get dle writin’, kase it don’ stan’ to rea- e the chart up to that morning. ee Ae iy ¥ the course had been traced in pencil on| n. “That part of it was chance, of course,” Gil replied, “and I can’t see that there is “Then, if nothing is found, we'll say the} anything strange in the men doing all they could to attract attention.” “ Wha’ men?” “Those who have been shipwrecked.” “Dere’s sumfin wrong ’bout de whole bizness, kase where’s de sailor man what kin ketch a gull? I’se tellin’ you, honey; dat de voudoos hab foun’ out whar we was gwine, an’ am beginnin’ to——” He did not have an opportunity to fin- ish the sentence, for at this point the boys literally roared with laughter, and he turned away indignantly, refusing to speak again until some one from the deck shouted: “The key is in sight. If you boys want to get the first glimpse of the ship- wrecked sailors, it is time you were tumbling up here.” CHAPTER IV. THE CASTAWAYS. IL and Nelse, who had expected to see an island of fair proportions, were considerably disappointed on reaching the deck at the scene before them, A long, low stretch of sand hardly ris- ing above the level of the ocean, could be distinguished directly ahead, and was about as uninviting a place as one could find. Toward the eastward the surf broke with considerable violence, and this it was, rather than the key itself, which |} attraced attention to the spot. Already preparations were being made | to lower one of the boats, and Gil asked his father: “How near can we go to the Jand?” “Tt isn’t safe to venture very far across. It is all shoal water to the westward of us, and I shall hold the schooner off about a mile.” * Do you see any signs of them?” “The smoke is enough to show they’re , Captain keeping a pretty sharp lookout,” and Mansfield pointed to a_ thin thread of blue, which had been unnoticed by the boys until this moment. “That is a signal which they started the moment we hove in sight; but it’s dying down now we've shown our intention of run- ning toward them,” Ten minutes later the boys could dis- tinguish by aid of the glass a number of figures on the beach, and Nelse said, with a laugh: “Andy will be more certain than ever that the voudoos have had a hand in this business when he finds out how many extra men he is obliged to cook for. It looks to me as if there were at least a dozen.” “Fully as many as that,” Captain Mans- field added, “and-we shall be crowded uncomfortably for a while; but, fortun- ately, Nassau isn’t so far away that we need worry very much about lack of room.” At this moment the old darky came on deck, and Gil shouted: “There’s a whole crowd of them! The voudoos have sent us lots of company.” Andy looked from the captain to the key in a sort of bewilderment, and one of the sailors, who stood near him, said: , “You'll have your hands full now, cookee, for we’re likely to add twelve or fifteen to this schooner’s crew.” Andy raised his arms above his head as if in despair, and then turning suddenly, ran below to the galley, from which place he did not emerge again until it was time to serve dinner. The schooner was hove to, when it seemed to the boys as if she was a very long distance to the eastward of the key; but, as a matter of fact, she was on the edge of the bank, and as near in shore as it was safe to venture. One of the small boats was lowered, and two sailors rowed. toward the shore. The mate of the yacht—Job Jenkins, a young man not more than twenty-five years of age—was leaning over the rail near where Gil and Nelse stood, and after watching the men as they pulled the ten- der around to the western shore of the key to avoid the heavy breakers, he said, petulantly: “T ain'ta-sayin’ but what it’s our duty to take that crowd off; yet it’s bound to use up the rest of this day, and by sunset, there won’t be so much as 4 breath of air stirring.” “Better a calm than a hurricane,” Gil replied, with a smile. “T’ni not so sure of that. The vacht can ‘hold her own under considerably i.ore than a capful of wind, and I had rather see her driving through the worst kind of a smother than lying here with that mob on board.” ; “Mr. Jenkins, can you make out any wreckage hereabouts?” Captain Mansfield asked, lowering the glass which he had been using. “No, sir, and that is just what has been puzzling me. TI don't understand how so many could have reached the key without some kind of a craft, and if any vessel large enough to carry such a crew had gone ashore within the past three weeks,. the hull should be held by the sand,” | “It has an odd look,” the captain re- plied, as he walked farther aft to geta view from another point. By this time the tender had gained the shore, and the shipwrecked party, after quarreling among themselves, made a rush for the boat. “At least four trips will be necessary in order to get them all on board,” Jenkins suggested, and Captain Mansfield replied: “Unless they are in a bad condition, which doesn’t appear to be the case, let them do a portion of the work. One man is enough to take the boat back, and the strangers can pull out to us,” Gil and Nelse watched eagerly as the first load approached the yacht, and a scrutiny of the new-comers was not at all favorable to them as good specimens of sailors. They were a thoroughly disreputable looking set, bearing no evidences of hard- ship, and the boys fancied all were more or less under the influence of liquor. “Well,” Captain Mansfield said, as the first one, a bushy-whiskered man, who appeared to be the leader, came over the rail, “you don’t seem to be in as desper- ate straits as I fancied would be the case when I found the gull.” “So you got the writin’, eh?” the nian replied, with a laugh. “I thought John- son was wastin’ his time when he laid ‘round a couple of days tryin’ to catch the bird; but it has turned out mighty lucky for us after all.” “What vessel are you from?” “The brig Mary and Jane, from Savan- nah for Nassau with an assorted cargo. There must have been a fire in the bold when we left port, for we,fought it from the second day out until it got the best of us, and we had to leave the old hooker,” “Were you the captain?” “Not much. He and the mates took the only boat that would swim, and left us to shirk for ourselves.” ' “Do yon mean to say that they deserted the crew?” Captain Manstield- asked, watching the man sharply. “That’s jest the size of it. My mates and I made shift to get to the key, an’ there we've been ever since.” It was some seconds before Gil’s father | spoke again, and the sailor shuffled about | uneasily under his searching gaze, “You said you were without water.” “We haven’t had a drop since we | landed; but a couple of casks of rum | come ashore, an’ we've managed to get al ng with that.” : Bi you scuttle the brig before leaving er? “There was no chance to do anything of the kind. We kept her headed for the key till the fire got the best of us, and ae was in a light blaze when we saw her ast, s has fit. abi ab! eit ch Sei otl Wwe tre kis ro] in een ene ee mi: ch wl lin ’ se th sa OA he tr “How many are there of you?” “Fourteen all told.” for Nassau, and land you as soon as_ pos-_ sible,” and Captain Mansfield turned as if to ty cele that the interview was at ap end, g “You'll have to take a deck passage, for there are only four hunks in the fore: — castle, and they are all filled,” Mr. Jen- kins said, as he motioned the men for: ward, “Allright. Of course, we’re willin’ t stand our share of the work,” the man replied, as he slouched alon with a swaggering air. “We've got crew enough, and in small craft like this you would only be in the way.” 4 Then the mate gave orders that the sailors should return with the boat, an@ the little craft was headed for the shore” once more, while the new-comers covertly examined the yacht as if they had a per- sonal interest in her sea-going qualities. The captain appeared to be so disturbed — in mind that neither Gil nor Nelse ven — tured to ask him any questions relative © to the men whom he was taking off the — key; the boys stood amidships where they could see-ajl that was going on, and a8 — Captain Mansfield paced to and fro, on)¥ © stopping now and then to exchange a few words with Mr. pered: q “JT don’t think your father is any to0 well pleased at having so many people aboard.” “I’n) certain he isn't, and can’t wond at it. They are a tough-l@pking set, an could make no end of trouble, if th were so disposed.” 5 By this time the second load had comé from the key, and were no more prepos sessing in appearance than the first! rivals. Captain Mansfield questioned the sharply, receiving in substance the samé replies as from the others, and when thé hoat was headed ‘for the shore again, ! called Mr. Jenkins to him, 5 ae Fager to know what was said, G motioned Nelse fo follow him, and | two went aft where the conversatio could be overheard, it . “What do you think. of the story < aa te]1?” Captain Mansfield asked his n “It isn’t reasonable, and I believe - 4 % “Tt’ll be snug stowing; but we’ll run ; g the deck — Jenkins, Nelse whis: ptain re- LO geta ined the ty, after made a Ssary in Jenkins replied: ndition, vase, Jet Jne man ind the y as the 5 and a ot at all nens of putable of hard- e more yr. , as the in, who ver the desper- he case he man t John- 1e laid 0 catch mighty Savan- cargo, 1e hold t from he best 0ker,” ok the eft us sserted asked, mates yan’ father | about er ” ce. we | ' roma 10 get ‘aving ing of or the s, and ee eee - Sourdon over the coals. has been cooked up for our especial bene- fit. That all the officers of a brig should abandon the crew doesn’t sound reason- able.” “lam of the same opinion. They have either deserted from their vessel, of mis- chief has been done.” “In case it was nothing more than de- sertion, they*would have had a boat.” “The same argument holds good under other and more desperate circumstances.” “Very true, sir.” “We may never learn the truth; but we can take every precaution against trouble. Keep your eyes open, Mr. Jen- kins, and don’t give them an opportunity to play us any game.” “L will see to it that they haven’t much rope aboard this craft,” the mate replied, and then the conversation was _ inter- rupted by Andy’s announcement that din- ner was ready. The third boat-load had not come off when the boys went into the cabin, and | there saw the old darky looking thor- ‘ oughly distressed, “What’s the matter?” Gil asked, while | thevorcie waiting for his father to come ) below. “say, honey, does you know how many ob dese yere sailors am comin’ aboard?” “Fourteen.” “An’amallobdem gwine ter stay on de yacht?” “There’s no other place for them until we can make Nassau.” “Den you hark to wha’ de ole man am tellin’ yer,” and Andy looked cautiously around to make sure no one from the deck could hear him. “Dis yere cruise am boun’ ter end in trubble, an’ ef de cap tain keeps de yacht pinted for Hayti ‘we’se nebber gwine ter git back.” “Is this another case of the voudoos?” Nelse asked, with a laugh, “Now, don’ make fun ob wha’ de ole Man tells: yer, honey, an’ ef dere’s a Caance to swade de captin ter turn ’roun’ when we strikes Nassau, go fur him ively.” e U “It isn’t likely father would put the! Schooner about simply because of what the voudoos might do, and if we should Say anything it might only make matters Worse,” : At this point Captain Mansfield came elow, and Andy, looking decidedly dis- tressed, began to serve the meal, (TO BE CONTINUED.) 0 [Thus Story will not be Published in Book-Form.] A BOY’S FORTUNE: OR, THE : ‘Strange Adventures of Ben Baker. By HORATIO ALCER, Author of “Adrift in the City,” “Grit. “Frank and Fearless,*? ‘Dan the Detective,” “Plucky Paul Palmer,” ete. ; ne A Boy's FORTUNE,” was commenced in No. 149. Sack numvers can be obtained of all News Agents. } — ee CHAPTER XXXVIII. M. BOURDON HAS A BAD QUARTER OF AN HOUR, oe AJOR GRAFTON was quite easy /\) in mind after consigning Ben to ©“ the safe custody of an insane me asylum, Serves the boy right!" he said. “What paar had he to interfere with my P 41s? M, Bourdon will see that he does 10b annoy me any further.” His confidence in the wisdom of his oan was maintained by the frequent let- ters he received from the director of the asylum, in all of which he spoke encour- *stngly of the effect of discipline upon . fu. Major Grafton regularly trans- es the compensation agreed on _be- ween them. his continued until one day Major wr afton, who had now returned to Geneva, i as dumfounded by receiving the follow- Ng telegram from Mr. Codicil : t vy ~~ ianship a we ne Nokeren “Confusioi! What does this mean?” .jaculated Major Grafton. “That wretched OY must have found means of writing to Merica. If this is so, I will haul M, It must have -®een through his criminal negligence.” He lost no time in setting out for the asylum, which he reached in due season, : I wish to see M. Bourdon,” he said, hime? to the attendant who admitted _ The doctor, who would rather have seen any one else, could hardly conceal his dis- May when he set eyes on the major. “Can he have found out?” he asked. __ “Dr. Bourdon, how is my ward?" he de- Manded, — et _“Tranqui ie doetor, smoothly, ‘T have reason to t ‘- No further drafts of yours M. Copicit.” 1 and_ contented," answered hink you have been 7 ay Your Scheme is revealed, and your guard: | GOooDdD NEWS. negligent, ana allowed him to write let- ters to America,” “Impossible, my dear sir—quite im- possible, I assure you.” “| believe there is some trickery here,” said the major, sternly. “I wish to see the boy.” Perspiration gathered on the brow of M. Bourdon, though it was a cool day. How could he stave off this visit? His wits came to the rescue. “TI greatly regret to tell you,” he said, “that your ward is sick of a contagious disease. To see him would imperil your life.” Major Grafton was not a nervous man, and he was too much in earnest to be turned from his design, “Tam not afraid,” he said; “I will see him.” “T will go and prepare him for your visit,” said the doctor, sorely perplexed. Five minutes had not elapsed, when he returned, in apparent consternation. “My good sir,” he said, “I have serious news. Your ward is not in his room. He must have escaped in the night.” “You scoundrel!” exclaimed the major, livid with passion. “Just now you told me he was sick with a dangerous malady; now you say he has escaped. have a great mind to strangle you!” and he clutched the doctor by the collar, “Mercy, mercy!” shrieked the doctor, terribly alarmed. “Are you mad?” “Tell me instantly, when did the boy escape, if you value your life.” “Over a month since. I didn’t wish to gence.” “While you continued to draw for his board, you thief!” “T—I am prepared torefund the money, monsieur. only drew because it was necessarv to keep up the deception.” M. Bourdon refunded five weeks’ board, told the story of Ben’s escape, and Major Grafton was compelled to be content with Dine “Tam afraid the game is up!” he mut- tered, as he rode rapidly away. “That cursed boy has apolied all. I wish I had him in my clutches !” Tt was well for Ben that he was not within reach of the irate major. CHAPTER XXXIX. BEN AND HIS UNCLE, GEN,” said the Cuban, a few days Y later, “1 have excellent news.” es “What is it, sir?” “7y “JT have found the broker who sold the stolen securities for your uncle.” “Ts it possible, sir?” said Ben, in ex- citement. “Yes; it is a piece of great good luck. And now I think we are ready to call upon your uncle. First, however, I have a little scheme in which I shall require your co-operation.” “Very well, sir.” “TI wish to test your uncle’s disposition toward you. We are in a position to dic- tate terms to him. If he shows proper feeling toward his nephew we shall fee) disposed to be considerate toward him.” “What do you wish meto do?” asked Ben. “Call on you uncle, and ask him if he can give you a place in his store, or help you to one outside. Of course, you wouldn’t accept one, but we shall see what reception he gives you.” Into this scheme Ben readily entered. He was no longer a friendless and penni- less boy, dependent upon his uncle for the means of living, but rich and his own master.. aim "i : Nicholas Walton was sitting in his counting-room when Ben_ entered. It so happened that Clarence Plantagenet was ust leaving the store as Ben entered. “What do you want?” he asked, coldly. “T shonld like to see your father.” “T don’t think he will see you. He busy.” zee “J am quite anxious to see him,” per- sisted Ben. “Are you going to ask him to help you?” said his cousin. “Yes; to help me toa place.” “T am sure he won’t do it.” “Tt would rather take the refusal from his lips,” said Ben. “Oh, well, Isuppose you can go and see him if you want to, but you will find that T am right.” = “T think T will see him, then. Clarence had been intending to go out at once, but it struck him that he would enjoy seeing his poor cousin rebuffed, and he accompanied Ben to the back of the re, Be Father,” he said, as he entered the office, followed by Ben, “here is Ben Baker, who wants to see you. I told him it would be of no nse to ask you for help, but he doesn’t believe me.” Mr. Walton frowned ominously. “Well, boy,” he said. frigidly, “so you have lost your place with Major Grafton? Ves Bir > . is “Tam convinced that it was on account of misconduct on yourpart.” = alarm you, and so concealed the intelli- | Mr. Novarr 2563 “Is it quite right to condemn me before stances attending my leaving him?” said Ben, mildly. | story,” sneered Mr. Walton; “but it! won't produce any effect on me.” “Still, sir, 1 will venture to say that I | did not leave him on account of any mis- conduct on my own part,” “Perhaps it was on account of miscon- duct on his part,” said Mr, Walton, with a scornful laugh. “Yes, sir, it was.” “Really, this is very amusing. Now let me know what you want of me?” “Can you give me a place in your store, | ie | | | I can’t, or, rather, I will not,” | answered his uncle, curtly. “Will you use your influence to obtain | me a position elsewhere?” | “No, I won't, and I consider you very | impudent to prefer the request.” “You seem to forget, sir, that I am} your nephew.” | disreputable manner in which you have | behaved.” “Then, you won’t do anything for me, | sir? “No, decidedly no!” “IT told you so,” said Clarence, tri- | umphantly. “You may as well go to sell- | ing papers.” “He can do better than that,” said a| strange voice. “He can live on the inter- | est of his money.” Clarence and his father started in 3ur- | prise, as the speaker, Filippo Novarro, | entered the office. The merchant, recog- nizing him, turned pale. CHAPTER XL. CONCLUSION. & \ said the Cuban, quietly. “I havea At few words to say to you. Do you ‘=> wish your son té listen?” “Clarence, you may leave the office,” said the merchant, in a husky voice. Clarence, whose curiosity was aroused, was very unwilling to go. “Sha’n’t Ben go, too?” he asked. y-b3-7 “IT beg pardon, but I wish him to re- main,” said the Cuban. “He is deeply concerned in what I have to say.” Ciarence was still more curious. He left the office, but he lingered within ear- shot. “Mr. Walton,” said Novarro, “I am a man of few words, and will come to the point. As the guardian of this boy, and the friend of his father’s friend. [ have come to demand from you the fortune of which you deprived him.” “I don’t know what you are talking about,” said the merchant, trying to speak firmly. “I beg your pardon, but you do. I call for the money you obtained for the secur- ities which you took from the dead body of Dr. Baker, who died in your office of heart disease, a sum which you appropri- ated to your own use, leaving your sister and yoursister’s son poor and dependent.” “You must be crazy, sir. Where is the proof of your strange and unfounded charge?” j “I can produce the broker who sold these securities for you in the year 18—.” “It is easy to say this. May I know the name of this broker?” asked the merchant, making a feeble attempt to deny the ev i SEE you know me, Mr. Walton,’ charge, 3 : “His name is John Goldsmith, and his office is No, —— Wall street,” answered Novarro, promptly. Nicholas Walton leaned back in his chair, and seemed ready to faint, but ut- tered no word. “Well, sir, your answer?” “Can't we—compromise—this—thing?” asked Walton, feebly. “No, sir; we will promise not to expose you, but it will be only upon condition that you pay principal and interest. The only favor we will extend is, that we will not demand compound interest.” “But it will ruin me! 1 cannot take so large a sum from my business.” “That I can understand. In behalf of my young ward and his mother, I will agree to accept half cash, and half in notes maturing at different dates, secured by your stock in trade. Do you consent, or shall we bring suit?” “Can’t you throw off the interest? That boy and his mother will be amply pro- | vided for by the principal.” “Tf you had received your nephew dif- ferently when he applied for help just} now, we might have consented. Now it! is out of the question.” 2 Nicholas Walton was forced to make an unconditional surrender, and the terms were agreed to upon the spot. “Ben,” said Mr, Novarro, as they left the office, “I congratulate you. You are now rich.” . “Thanks to ” your kind management, : 3 ; | good of themselves. Clarence was ina you have heard anything of the circun- | | euce between his father and the Cuban. “Oh, I dare say you have some plausible | “TI choose to forget if, considering the |- | ege. | upon any business. |and purchasing a house, furnished it with canoe sped woke every echo of the hills, silence, They reached the shore in and the woman triumphed; but thi hawk looked upon her in scorn. jee Great Spirit is merciful terrible panic when he heard the confer- That his despised Cousin Ben should. be- come suddenly rich was a bitter pill to swallow. Hesneaked out of the store perturbed in mind. : “Now, Ben, | suppose you will want to carry the news to your mother,” said the Cuban.” “That is what I was a Novarro.” “We will take the next train for Sun- derlaud, preparing your mother by a tele- gram,” e do not propose to describe Ben’s happy meeting with his mother. ols. Baker was grieved to hear of her brother's treachery, but it was a relief to her to think that he had nothing to do with her husband’s death. As we know, he was directly responsible for it, but the knowl edge of this was confined to his own breast. Even the Cuban never suspected what had brought on the attack that terminated the poor doctor’s life. “Now, Ben, what career do you select?” asked his guardian, Ben tovk a week to consider. decided not to go into business, but to obtain a iiberal] education, and study law. He and bis mother removed to Cam- bridge, where he completed his prepara- tory studies, and entered Harvard Col- He is now a young lawyer, and has commenced the practice of his profes- sion under flattering auspices, Clarence Plantagenet, on the other hand, isa young man about town, and his father cannot induce him to enter 90N He has professed his willingness to become a broker, if bis father will purchase him a seat at the Stock Board,’ but Mr, Walton wisely thinks it will be cheaper to give him a liberal income than give him the chance <4 of squandering a fortune in stocks. ad We must not forget the Beauforts, They removed to a fashionable locality, bout to ask, Mr. He then elegance and taste. It is surprising how many people found them out in their days of prosperity who had ignored them be- fore. Even Mrs. Tilton essayed to apolo- gize for her outrageous treatment, and tried to ingratiate herself with Rose, but the latter treated her with such distant civility, that* she gave up the artenipt. In less than a year Rose Beaufort became Mrs. Clinton Randall, and her star rose still higher. ‘There is one person who never wil] for-- give her for her good fortune, and that is Miss Arethusa J ave, who had strongly — hoped to secure tHe hand of Clinton Ran- aall for herself, No one would have been — more amazed than Randall himself. for © he was happily unconscious of Miss _ Jayne’s admiration for him, mee Ben has not forgotten his early friends, — Hugh Manton, the reporter, by his help, — has secured an interest in a flourishing — daily paper in an inland city, and is earn- — ing a liberal income, ci _Major Grafton is earning a precarious living at European spas and gambling — resorts, and is beginning to show the — marks of age. Filippo Novarro has estab- _ lished himself as a permanent resident of — the United States, and spends much of, his time with Ben and his mother, aero And now, with all our characters satis- factorily disposed of, the good rewarded. — and the bad punished, we bia the reader farewell and ring down the curtain, (THE END.] — Tell your friends about the new story by — Wm. Murray Graydon, entitled ‘In Fort. and Prison; or, The Mystery of Larry Redmayne.” It will begin next week, INDIAN SUPERSTITION. | The Indians believe that if the stillness over the waters of a lake be broken by any careless word the spirits of the place will be offended. In the days of the early settlers, we are told, a white wottinh, hot occasion to cross Lake Saratoga, and the Indians, who were to row her across, — warned her of the danger that one rash word might bring. ; fees It was a calm, cloudless day, and t like an arrow across the smooth waters, Suddenly, when in the middle of the lake, the strong-minded _ woman determined to prove to thes sim- le folk the folly of their belief. So she ifted up her voice in a wild er that _The Indians were filled with cons rma, tion. They uttered no word, but, strain- ing every nerve, rowed on in fro *h 0. 3 It is said that listeners never hear any | hold her peace,” _ knows that the white woman 2564 GOOD NEWS. THE SILVER BULLETS. Richelet, BY DAVID PAULDING. Ka \4 h ) OB and I had spent several months up in the Blackfeet country, trap- ping, and had been ver) successful —so successful, in fact, that it be- came necessary forme to carry our furs down theriverto the fort; so 1t was agreed that we should start on a Sunday. On Thursday, before we were to start, Bob took down old “Kill-me-quickly,” and remarking that he was goin out on ‘a day’s tramp, started. time hung rather heavy on my hands, but 1 managed to pass it away, ,in one way or another, Toward sunset I took my pipe, and, lighting it, walked myself, when who should [I see coming down the trail, as if Old Nick was after him, but Bob. He darted past the cabin, and kept along the river bank. I was in the direction from which he had come, I saw four reds in full pursuit. afraid of them, because I knew they were friendly with me; in fact, I had had the ood fortune to save one of their braves rom the paws of a grizzly, and, as an act of gratitude, had been adopted into the tribe. So, as they came up, I sung out: “Hey, brothers! Where are you going?” One of them—Wild-Cat by name— . paused, and said: “The Bison has slain my brother.” And on they went. The Bison was the name the Indians ‘had given Bob, and I knew if it was so, Bob would eventually fall into their hands, and suffer death. I knew if I in- terfered to save him, not even my being a “brother” would séve my life; but I could not remain inactive, and Bob in danger; so, entering the cabin, I seized my gun, and started after them. They were out of sight, so I had to proceed slowly in order that I could examine the trail as I went along. About four miles from the cabin I heard the report of Bob’s gun, and I knew he was cornered; so I dashed through the forest in the direction of the sound. In a few moments I found myself on the edge of a small circular clearing, - in the center of which stodd a_ large pile of rocks, and near those rocks lay the body of Wild-Cat, giving undoubted - proof that Bob was concealed amon - them; so, picking up a small pebble, A slung it straight as I could toward the rocks. I knew Bob‘would know who did — it, for it was a re alg. signal. The reds were nowhere to be seén, so I retreated cautiously from the edge of the clearing, and took up a position behind a large tree which commanded an uninterrupted view of it. At this moment, Bob’s gun _ spoke again, and a red tumbled from a _ tree-top, landing close to where I stood. . The two remaining Indians would have _ made a combined rush, at the rocks only they knew Bob carried a six-shooter, and that kept them under. _ Things were getting tedious. The two Indians showed no signs of leaving, and if ‘they did, it was doubtful whether we could have let them go; forif one es- _ caped, he would tell his tribe my partner had done it all, and, consequently, bring _ destruction upon us both; so I got where I could pop off either of them at a -moment’s notice, Finally, one of them grew a little careless, and showed his scalp-lock, when “bang!” and Bob’s bul- let carried him off to “kingdom come,” The other red started, but my gun was up to my shoulder, and he fell as dead as - amackerel. Bob came rushing from be- hind the rocks, and by the way he acted you would have thought him crazy. He nearly squeezed all the breath out of my body. Of course, I was glad to grasp him the hand, and told him so; but I thought we’d better be moving, as there might be more of the reds about. “Thunderation !" exclaimed Bob, “guess er ain’t skeered, Dave, cos that ain’t in er. Thar wur only five o’ ther imps, and har’s four on ‘em.” “How did it all happen?” I asked. “Wall, when I left yer this mornin’, I truck cross ther plains, an’ "bout noon thought I seed a fire; as I wanted some- think ter eat, I thought I'd step up an’ interdooce myself, Wall, I crawled up ter reconnoiter, and ef thar warn’t Wild- ij and four on his imps, with a white gal tied up; and ther gal wur eryin’, so I sez: ‘Bob, my boy, that ’s in a stew, an’ yer got ter get her I felt purty sure they hed stolen her from some on ther settiements, so I wur gwine ter resker her. The imps arn't payin’ much tention to her, so I inaged ter ’tract her ’tention, an’ she ed up ter run. As she done that, one ther imps chucked his tomahawk at +-and she got it in ther head. She apped dead, when ole Kill-me-quickly d guv him a dose he won’t git er soon. In course, I guv ’em leg-bail, yer know all ther rest.” yy} 5} Well, | out of the cabin to enjoy a smoke all by | going to call him, when, casting my eyes | tell who led them such a pretty dance, we supposed we were safe from detection ; but we determined to delay our voyage to the fort, for fear a hasty departure might call down suspicion upon us. That was our great mistake, for, say what you will, the Indian of North America is a better detective than the most experi- enced officer in the world, My gun was about the heaviest caliber of any in those regions, and when the | reds found the bodies on the following day, they carefully extracted the bullets, and they recognized the size of mine the moment they saw it; but, as I wasa brother, they thought they would make ; sure about it, before accusing me. On that day, Bob, not knowirg how long he might be gone, took all the bul- lets and cast them for his gun, as he sup- posed I could cast more for mine. After more lead, and, taking alump of silver we had found up the river, I run about two dozen bullets. The ball I had used was a silver one, and upon that fact hung my conviction; but I didn’t know it, : | Well, the Indians, to make sure, sent I wasn't | over one of their warriors with word that | their chief had found a gun as large as mine, and wanted to know if I wouldn't send him a few balls to try its powers. Wishing to be mighty grand, T sent over a half-dozen of my silver bullets. A short time after, Bob entered the cabin, and said; “TI jest met Big B’ar”"—the brave that I had saved—‘“and he sez, ef yer hev any silver bullets not ter send ’em ter ther chief, cos they found a silver bullet the size yer carry in one o’ ther skunks we wiped out,” *Twas too late, and I told Bob so. I knew the whole tribe would be down on us before midnight; so we had better vamose. I knew fire would be our doom if taken, and so we hurried up and packed our furs in the boat, and, by the time night fell, we were all ready to start. We had a small keg of powder, which I intended to place in the boat, but could not find it, and, upon asking Bob in re- gard to its whereabouts, he said: “Thet’s all right; jest yer git in ther then put in shore.” a Knowing it was useless to talk to him, I obeyed, and, putting in at a small cove, [lay watching in the direction of the shanty. I guessit was about midnight when I seen a blinding flash, succeeded by aloud report. In a few moments a steadily-increasing light could be seen, and soon the forest was on fire. I pulled up inthe direction of the shanty, and, when about half-way, I heard Bob hail me. I took him in, and I must say I never seen him in such a plight before. Right back of our shanty-some thirty feet off—stood a large forest, and in this forest Bob had concealed himself, The keg of powder he had placed under the floor of the shanty, and laid a train from it to the forest. Fastening the doors and windows on the inside, he had climbed up the chimney, and, sliding down the roof to the ground, took his position at the other end of the train, pistol in hand, The Indians came, and knocked at the door, then tried it, and, finding it was fastened, set about making preparations to burst it in. The door soon gave way, and, giving them all time to get in, Bob fired the train, and a deafening explosion ensued, But he found he had done a _ bad job for himself; the dry grass had caught fire, and was spreading rapidly. Bob started on a run for the river, but -the flames gained upon him. He could feel his flan- nel shirt writhing with the heat; his back seemed a coal of fire. At last his breeches caught; he made one desperate jump, and fell souse into the river, The cool water restored him to his senses, and he struck out down the stream. It was lizht as day, and he said, afterward: “When I seed yercummin’ up with thar boat, IT wur so weak with joy thet I didn’t *spect I could make yer h’ar me.” He did, however, and in a couple of days we arrived safe at the fort, where, after a week’s doctoring, Bob was in as good trim as ever, ——_—__ ++» _____—_- A QUEER WAGER. An American acrobat in Vienna won a queer wager recently. He bet a considerable sum with a Vienna strong man that he could not endure to have a litre, 2,113 American pints, of water fall, drop by drop, from a height of threa feet upon his hand. When 300 drops had fallen the athelet’s face became red, and he Jooked as if in pain. At the 420th drop he Beye up, saying it was impossible to bear the pain any longer. The palm of his hand was swollen and in- flamed, and in one place the skin had broken open. Only a small portion of the litre of water had gone to make up the 420 were none of the imps alive to drop 8. — he was gone, I found out that we had no boat, and row down stream fur a_mile;- « RUNNING HER DOWN. —~- BY JACK LINTON. -——_— + —_—— Fr, HEN I was a small boy my AN father, who had been a great ) traveler, used to aimuse us on x winter nights telling of some of his adventures, I remember one in par- ticular very distinctly, and 1 will try and relate itas it was told me many years ago. ; It was during the war of 1812, when our Yankee sailors proved themselves fully a match for the self-styled rulers of the ocean, that circumstances led me to take passage on board one of our large merchantmen, in which I embarked what little property I possessed. Our seas at that time were canvassed by privateers of both belligerents that did an immense lot of mischief, and, being built for speed, they almost invari- ably eluded the large frigates and ships cf the line, and their light draught of water, when near the shore, would fre- quently enable them to run soclose in that they could not be attacked except with boats, and those who are conversant with naval warfare understand how little force it requires to beat off boats, or sink them, But to my yarn. We had been sailing for two days, with a good breeze, though at times it would lull, and then we went heavily along through a fog as dense as the waters that bore us up, and we were nearing our des- tined port. The danger of capture being great, the captain crowded all sail night and day. Our ship was of about four hundred tones, heavily laden, and a clumsy sailer. Her commander wasa man of shrewd judgment, and of inflexible purpose, and rather givén to taciturnity. He was of slight figure, gentlemanly to his equals, and decided and prompt to those under him in seeing that his orders were car- ried out. His keen dark eye and proud bearing showed a kind uf courage which some would call daring, if they had noted carefully his changing countenance on particular oceasions; yet at another time he would seem the careful mariner, who would reef for safety when safety apparently did not suggest the act. He was one of those kind of men who seemed inclined to bend the purposes of others to his own, while they were kept in igno- rance of his views. [I have seen him fix his eye like an eagle on a sailor, and re- aa of him to look steadily at him for ve minutes, and then dismiss him with- out a comment, or a reason for so doing; but Icould have taken my oath that o had one. After skimming through the mist for two days, of which I have spoken, I hap- pened to be on deck with the captain, and was conversing on the probability of reaching our port unmolested by our enemies. He replied, with his usual brevity: “The fog, and carrying sail, alone will save us. I am a made man if we escape? If not I am*ruined !” At this moment the sun seemed to flash out with sickly splendor, and the mighty fog-bank rose like the lifting of a cur- tain at the theater; a smart breeze stirred up, and before an order was given we saw directly under our lee a little black-look- ing craft, with tapering spars, whose deck seemed alive with men, “IT know her!” ejaculated the captain, and the next moment there came a ball dancing across our bows-~a quiet hint for us to come-to. Our captain took the helm from the Sailor, and gave the order to lay-to. An- other shot came within a few feet of the captain's head, and passed through the mainsail, which he noticed no more than the flapping of the wing of a sea-gull; but his countenance grew dark and ter- rific. He had not a gun on board. The privateer, braced sharp on the wind, at the second tack came within musket range; a boat was lowered, and came on board, and we were ordered in the pig- my’s lee, in the style of an admiral in the British navy. In the meantime the wind freshened, and the captain had privately given orders to have sail in readiness for any emergency. The boat left us, and we bore down ap- parently for the purpose of fulfilling the command which had been given us. To secure and pack my papers was but the work of a few moments, for expectations of such an occurrence had made me cau- ous. When IT returned on deck we were al- most within hail of the stranger, under a flowing canvas, which, in order to bring us to a proper luff under the lee of the rivateer, would seemingly require to be mmediately taken in. The captain was still at. the helm, and he was intent apparently upon coming as near the stern of the opposite vessel as was possible, though at the time he seemed to grasp the whole of the little privateer at aglance. His brow was knit, and the veins on his forehead seemed to be swollen. He heeded nothing around him. At this moment he gave the com- mand to square away, which brought our bows on the center of the enemy’s vessel and at the same time the flash of a gun lit up the scene, and the effect of the ball EE was perceptible, for it raked us fore and aft, cutting everything in its progress, The next moment the bow of our heavy vessel] struck the quarte: of the privateer Aut with a tremendous crash, for we were going before the wind with every sail set, and she passed over her as easily as an ironclad of late days would cut the sides of a fishing smack in twain, and naught was seen but a mass of floating barrels and a few spars, with human beings | clinging to them, in order to save them- selves from a yawning, dark eternity. And never can J forget the terrible ery that went from the wild waste of waters. Our vessel was immediately laid to and the boats lowered to pick up the unfortu- nate survivors, pee Our captain gave the helm to the mate, ‘wh and went to the bows to ascertu‘n orr é mis own damage, which was found not very \ res extensive, though our bowsprit, figure- ) tio head, and cutwater were carried away, 5 and a leak was made, yet it was not of a \ anc serious nature. { pos Among those precipitated into the of seething water one alone was found to on survive—it was the captain. He was the I commander of the privateer of six guns | ful and fifty men, in the British employ. yj wt When taken up he was insensible, and eS remained so for a long time, after which mc he came to, and finding himself ina hi strange vessel, all seemed to be like a ‘ fitful dream. tir Slowly memory came back, and he re- “b called the consequences of his adventure all with our clumsy merchantman. He stated a that he was leaning on the taffrail when PI. e our vessel struck his privateer, and that 4 when he ordered the gun to be fired, as sap | we came suspiciously near, it was his first intimation of our design. Still he an declared it to be a dastardly act. a When the captain of the privateer had : ho given vent to his feelings in bitter ana- ey themas on our heads, our captain, who ah had remained silent, standing a little du distance off, now stepped up, and placing in his keen dark eye upon him, asked: el “Do you not know me?” di He replied: FS “J must have seen you before—I cannot b recall where,” a Then there was one of thosepauses like = ™ lulls in a gale at sea. 4 Li Our capain continued: tk f “Your privateer was stationed at Gib- | a raltar, by the name of the Racer, in Feb- — = ruary, 1812, was it not?” d A groan came from the listener, . . “TI know you and your vessel, Then you | Ra spoke slightly, ay, slanderously of my — . sister. Henry struck you, and you stabbed — - him with a dirk. He recovered, and he ~ mos challenged you, You fought and killed him. I wason the battle ground. You ~ h afterward repeated exultingly your — é] charges, when he wasa corpse. I then challenged you, and you sneaked off to © your ship, and did not meet me. Iknew ~ our vessel the moment I saw it, for its. image was graven on my brain, and I have rewarded your treachery. “The first: thing you have to do, sir, when you land, is to meet me in what is | termed an honorable way, and that, tco, before our sails are taken from the yards, This cabin is yours, and the steward will Paget bidding until then,” ‘ We sailed on heavily without falling in with another vessel for some days. The moon came up one night in remarkable splendor, and spread its silvery beams over the billowy bosom. of the broad Atlantic. I was leaning over the bul- warks, looking down at the rippling water as it was driven asunder by our lazily-sailing craft. The captain of the privateer came up the Raneway, and the moonbeams falling full upon his coun- tenance I observed it was peculiarly wild a and sad. I tried to draw him into con- y versation. In reply to some of my inter- < rogations he said: “T have been a black-hearted villain!” A numberof sharks were playing round the vessel, as if reveling im the flood of the moon’s rays. I left him gazing ab- stractedly out on the waste of waters, and passed to the presence of ourcaptain, who also seemed lost in deep and bitter memories. The very sound of my voice seemed to startle him. As he was reply ing we heard a splash in the water, and saw the captain of the privateer battling | with the waves; he raised his hand, as bidding us farewell, when a shark of un common size turned on his back, and with one snap of bis enormous jaws divided in two distinct parts the unhappy sufferer. A tinge of red on the water, as _ our ship glided past, was all that was — seen of the doomed captain, and thus assed away into oblivion one of Eng- land’s proud crafts, that Had done a vast — amount of injury to our commerce, — nit, to und om- our sel, 2un all und ivy eer ere et, an des xht els igs m- tus PAROS OF SR RO RS aes ee ee ; Se Oe eee ee a — —_. le A preening presenta aarti en aoe i ese z ) ance, however, until it was no longer , Possible to stand, and then the membersy | of the brotherhood took him in chargé / Once more. GooDp (This Story Will Not be Published in Book-Form. } REUBEN GREENS ADVENTURES > FUN AND FROLICS AT YALE. 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,” “ah Mores oe SABRE “WELL, I'LL 4 a ee LAIN REVUBER Fr ~but all co pe"pM yy Unable tovmér, within striking whom he had come to I6 ; mies, and the result was that ah resulted in nothing more tham tion. OM He continued this useless sort of Fes Billy ordered that he be stretched at full length on the floor, after the boads / which confined his arms had been loosened 4 trifle in order to ease the pain, and once ae the lamp was moved to and fro near m, "We will forgive the outburst this time,” Billy said, in a tone of severity ; but if you so far forget yourself again, all the horrors of the dreaded Ramadan will be visited upon your head, Now ap- Bly the branding iron, and let it sink ep.’ One of the party pressed the point of a Plece of ice upon Reuben’s naked breast, and fora moment or two the sensation was the same as if something exceedingly hot had touched the flesh. he victim writhed in agony, while the “Others discussed his general appearance during the torture, thus adding to the Imaginary pain, and after a few seconds elapsed the physician was called upon to dress the supposed wound. Again was the freshman from Maine Swathed in bandages, after salve had een plentifully smeared upon the flesh, and by this time Reuben began. to con- Sider himself a perfect wreck. : nce more he was seated in a chair acing the “throne,” and the covering re- moved from his eyes. Now the lodge-room could be plainly “istinguished, with the members stand- ing silent and motionless against either wall, and all the paraphernalia scattered 4bout where it might be seen to the best advantage. Billy read the candidate a long lesson On the beauties of the society to which he ad been partially admitted, and con- cluded by saying: Obedietice to the laws of our order is the first lesson you must learn. It grieved me to see you so headstrong and obstinate When we were only laboring for your Bood——" Was it for my good that you bled me nearly to death, and then burned me?” euben asked, angrily. es, because only by such an ordeal Could you become a member of this——” bi don’t want anything to do with the amed old thing! I didn’t count on eing treated in this way, and if you adn’t tied me up it couldn’t have been One. Don’t you forget, though, that I'll Set square before I’m much older.” . See that the most rigorous of the punishments must be administered,” and illy spoke as if it gave him the most in- €nse mental pain to say such a thing. * But I tell you I’m not going to join.” it is too late to retract now. After erate — allowed an ase Pe el . S 1e a sue bitter cameo must be pursue o the b I'd ‘like to know what’ secerts I’ve €en told.” wi Ask that of your arm and breast. You ill find the answer there.” .L Should say so.” ais emember to whom you are speaking, meh Che Graciously Supreme Master of € Sacred Order of Gunjabee allows no ack talk.” At these words the members advanced reateningly with upraised weapons, and Reuben was silenced. is We will spare his life; but some pun- e ment fitting the crime must be de- sed. We will call a secret council to €cide upon the matter,” Why not dip him in boiling oil once or twice?” some one asked, and the vic- tim trembled. Take him to the place of darkness un- il the question can be discussed,” Billy EEN’S ADVENTURES” was commenced in No, 157. the room the gathered around their leader; but many fini it,into his head to make a complaint?” Billy repieay some of his 60 Ommanded, and was instantly obeyed. oe gi» ye “ Messenger No. 48,” ‘ The Counterfeiter’s League,” etc. Back numbers can be obtained of all When Reuben had been conducted from “members of the order were of the opinion that the joke had been carried far enough, besides the sport was beginning to grow tiresome. “It’s too early to let him go,” Billy ob- jected. “He’s had enough for one spell; we can sh to-night. Suppose he should take Tell, such things have been done here i 9? true; but you must remember money under false pretenses, near being a serious mat- a good deal more so terribly green,” nderstood that iSmivere a trifle NEW Ss. His first act was to tear the bandages from his arm to ascertain how deep an incision had been made, and on finding only the scratch of a pin he began to be ashamed for having made such an outcry. An examination of the supposed brand resulted in the same knowledge, and he said to himself: “T don’t know how those fellows man- aged to make it feel as if 1 wasin so much pain; but this thing is certain: I’ve made a big fool of myself. Isuppose they are all in the lodge-room laughing at the way I acted.” In this last supposition he was correct, and a high time the fellows were having at his expense. Billy received unlimited praise because of his skillful manner of devising and carrying out the initiation ceremony, while the majority of the party were _be- ginning to think it might be as weli to resume the sport later. “We'll fix him up this evening,” Billy said, “and then we’ll let him understand that the dean wants to make an apology.” “Don’t go too far in that direction,” the more cautious ones advised; but the others insisted that the affair should be finished in a proper manner, Plain Reuben was very careful to obey the orders given by the master of the “lodge.” He remained in his room a will- ing prisoner, not so much as going for anything to eat, and the hours passed slowly and wearily, without bringing him a single visitor. When evening came he was thoroughly tired and sleepy. Owing to the fact of his having waited so long for the dean on the previous night he had had but little THOSE IN THE HALLWAY COULD HEAR THEIR VICTIM MOVING AROUND. A.MOMENT OF SILENCE FOLLOWED, AND THEN CAME THE EXCLAMATION: “WELL, I’LL BE JIGGERED!” nervous regarding what had been done, and agreed to postpone the sport. Mounting the throne, he cried, loudly: “Let the weak-kneed member from Maine be brought before us.” Reuben was led in, looking more as- sured. The wounds did not pain him as he thought they should have done, and he had begun to regret having said anything offensive to the master of such a sup- posedly powerful organization. “Tt is not possible for us to decide upon the nature of your punishment,” Billy said, gravely, “therefore it is my order that you be reconducted to your room, there to. remain until such time as we shall send for you. Remember. that no guard will he placed over you; but ter- rible will. be the result if you j/eave the apartment before having received our commands.” Before Reuben could reply his eyes were bandaged, and a couple of fellows hurried him away. He was forced to take the same long journey, although his quarters were but a few yards away, and when. panting and breathless, he entered, one of his con- ductors said, sternly: “Remember all that has been said to you, and try to understand what might happen if you disobeyed the commands of our worthy master.” “I’ll stay right here, and won’t speak to a living soul,” Reuben replied, in a faint voice. “Then it will be all right, for I’m cer- tain you can’t speak to a dead one,” and the two hurried away, leaving the tired freshman to his own reflections, rest, and by nine o'clock it seemed almost impossible to keep his eyes open. It might be infringing the rules to go to bed Tetirs being “tucked up;” but it could not be helped, and he yielded to the overpowering desire. Sleep came very quickly, andin a few moments his loud breathing told that he was oblivious to everything around him. This was the time for which Billy and his fellow-conspirators had been waiting. ae felt positive he would do exactly as he had done, and at short intervals a messenger was sent to listen at the door of the room. When the report came that Plain Reu- ben was in the land of Nod, fully twenty young gentlemen stole softly to the former’s room, opened the door cautious ly and without making noise enough to dis- turb the sleeper, began removing all the lighter articles of furniture. Everything which could be taken out was carried to the farther end of the cor- ridor, where it was piled up, and then Billy began the most delicate portion of the work, Piece by piece he deftly pulled the bed- clothing off, his companions waiting out- side lest their suppressed breathing should give the alarm, and whenever the fresh- man from Maine showed signs of being disturbed, Billy ceased operations to wait patiently until the victim was quiet once more. It was a long task, owing to the fre- quent interruptions; but finally accom- plished, and Plain Reuben was slumber- ing on a bed from which even the pillows had been removed, wis 2565 Billy only waited long enough after this to make certain no matches had been left in the room, and then joined hiscom- panions in the hall. “It won’t be a great while before he awakens, for it must be pretty cold in there, and we’can afford to stay here a few minutes for the sake of the sport. How he willrave!” The conspirators remained perfectly quiet during the next quarter of an hour, and then their patience was rewarded by hearing a rustling from the inside, as if some one was moving about on the bed. An exclamation of surprise, and a jar > the freshman from Maine leaped to the oor. “What has happened to the blamed things?” he asked himself, angrily. “I’m blest if I can find even the sheet, Where are the matches? I thought there were plenty here when I went to bed.” Those in the hall-way could hear their victim moving around rapidly, and then came the sound of a window-shade being pulled up. A moment of silence, and then the ex- clamation : “Well, I'll -be jiggered !" After that a deep silence reigned. Plain Reuben was beginning to suspect the truth of the matter, and Billy mo- tioned for his companions to follow him down Stairs. CHAPTER XX. REUBEN’S BASE-BALL GAME, G — URING the few hours he had been in New Haven, Reuben Green had C had a large and varied amount of experience. He was beginning to understand that his fellow-students were amusing them- selves at his expense, and, unsophisti- cated though he had shown himself to be, he had a very good idea of paying them back in their own coin. As a matter of course the theft of the bedclothing and furniture told that he was being initiated into the customs and sports of college life, if nothing more, and he muttered to himself as he searched for something with which to cover his shivering body: “It’s no use to get mad, for that would only make a bad matter worse; but reckon I’ve had initiations enough to last rough this term, and it’s time to = n ” . > suffer from the cold the articles which for he did not b. jokers another erefore he re- room witha y protection laugh at his ® mained in the no couple of curtains against the night afl It was not possiblé to) after this, and the fr opportunity to review am cidents which had folly so rapidly since his arr Before morning he hné did, very much more tha previous, and the conclust at was near the truth. “The only thing for me square with those fellows, a to try mighty hard to do it.” " At an early hour next mor out looking for his goods, wm found with but little difficulty, @ the fact of their having been packe one end of the corridor, and he pw hour of hard work returning th their proper places. aa This done, and his toilet made, BF Reuben sauntered out to meet those whom he had furnished so much amt ment, The Billy, who had risen unusually early for this especial purpose, believing the fresh- man would pour a long account of his troubles into any sympathizing ear. In ‘this, however, the ach-conspirator was woefully mistaken. Reuben appeared to be in the most ami- able mood, and instead of referring to the events of the previous night, began to ask concerning the different buildings of the college. “J heard you were admitted to one of our swellest societies yesterday,” Billy said, with an assumption of carelessness. “You ought to know, since you were the party who so kindly arranged it for me.” “Oh, yes; but you can understand that in an influential order like that a fellow may, be under discipline, and not allowed to attend the meetings,” “T’m sorry you wasn‘t there,” Reuben replied, with evident sincerity. “I would like to know what the fellows thought of very much ad ample d the in- another me. “T haven’t seen any of them since day- light; but I fancy there was no question about your getting through all right.” “T suppose not. Iam going to call on the dean this morning. At what time had I better go?” “At any hour before’ eleven o’clock, Do youintend to make a fuss because you wasn’t tucked up in bed?” first acquaintance he met was” 2566 GOOD NHWws. “T reckon the letter I wrote will auswer every purpose.” “But you mustn’t let a thing like that pass unheeded. Remember that the other young gentlemen attending this vener- able temple of learning look to you for the upholdimg of the dignity of your posi- tion.” “That will be all right; there’s plenty of time, and I want to come up for exam- ination again.” “What’s that for?” “Tt may be I can give a better defini- tion of the thusness of the wny than I did before.” There was a peculiar expression on the freshman’s face as he spoke, and Billy began tu have a very clear idea that the young gentleman from Maine was awak- ening to the true condition of affairs; but yet he was not disposed to let the victim slip through his fingers so soon if it could be avoided. “TI suppose you play base-ball,” he said, carelessly. “T did some last year.” “How would you like to have a game this afternoon?” “First rate.” “Where do you play?” “T have always caught, and would rather be there than anywhere else; but I reckon you have a catcher.” “That is just the man we need. Be ready at four o’clock, and we’ll give you a chance.” Reuben promised to be on hand at the appointed time, and then hurried away, for he did not care to let Billy know pos- itively that he had “tumbled” to his game, After this interview the conspirator was in high glee, calling upon Roy and several other intimate friends to an- nounce what he considered good news, “T think Plain Reuben is uncorking both himself and us, for he acted this morning as if he was beginning to cut his eye-teeth,” Billy said; “but we’ve got oue more show at him.” “Don’t you think we’ve given him a pretty stiff dose already?” Roy asked. | “Yes; but if he’s ready to take any more it would be cruel not to give him the chance.” “Well, what have you got in the wind now?” “He claims to know base-ball pretty put them in rather quiet until I get ac- customed to his delivery.” “I'll attend to that,” and Billy walked over to the box, where he whispered to Roy. “He’s getting nervous already, so break him up as soon as you can, and then we’ll have a decent game.” “Play ball!” the umpire shouted, and teuben assumed a most awkward look- ing position, which caused the spectators to roar with mirth. Roy’s first delivery was a “ball,” for he |thought more of the catcher just then than he did of the fellow at the bat, and the leather sped through the air hke a cannon-ball. Plain Reuben stepped aside, allowing it to pass him, and Roy’s face lighted up as he believed he had frightened the freshman at the first attempt. Another hot “ball” followed, and Reu- ben pursued the same tactics, thereby alfording the spectators no slight amount of sport. A “strike” was next in order, and the batsman caught it for two bases, the short-stop fumbling it unmercifully, be- cause, like all the others; he could see only the new catcher, Now Reuben moved nearer the plate, and Billy whispered to him: “Look out for yourself; that fellow can steal more bases than anybody you ever saw.” The freshman made no reply; his eyes were fixed on the pitcher, and instantly the ball was delivered the runner started, believing Reuben would not dare to catch it. In this he was mistaken, however, for the freshman from Maine stood up to his work nobly, taking a hot one as if accus- tomed to such things, and sending it to third with an accuracy of aim, which surprised the baseman s0 much that he came near fumbling it. The spectators did not laugh now, but BY WM. MURRAY GRAYDON, —— «§ The Mystery of Terry Tinker, oe ay WELL remember Terry Tinker’s first ‘| appeay'ance in the little rural village G of Yocumtown, down in Southern >> Pennsylvania. It was a warm hazy afternoon in late September, and half a dozen boys—myself among the number— were sitting on the porch in front of Mr, Colfax’s store. We caught sight of the odd-looking figs ure as it turned in from the cross-road be- low the sch2ol-house, and limped slowly | up the straggling street. “Here comes old Noah,” cried Sydney Colfax, and then, with cruel thoughtless- ness, we all began to laugh and jeer. The stranger had, indeed, a patriarchal face, but his appearance was far from being consistent with Biblical days, He was a bent old man, with long gray beard and hair, wrinkled cheeks, and a pair of hoin spectacles. He walked with a cane, and wore a dirty linen duster that flapped about his ankles. A huge Aptisg oil-cloth pack was strapped to his ack, When he was fairly within the vi he moderated his pace, and began in a thin squeaky voice: “Pots and kettles! Soaps Who'll buy? Who'll buy?” He paid no attention 4 until he was nearly « when he stopped, a instant as thous come aware of) walked over ragged water. aa eae ore, ® for an denly be- Then he d dofting his 0) y for a drop of cd ous, and we felt ed of our conduct. Dickman had a race to back yard, Sydney won, looked at each other in a curious fashio as if asking whether or no they ha made a big mistake. Roy was both disappointed a1 After allowing the first tw him, Reuben, according to his tions, should have missed this one. 7 All. present knew by the _ pitch actions that he was about to redouble efforts; but he expended his streng vain, for Reuben he well, and wants to catch. Now, I pro- pose to yet up a scrub game this. noon, and let you 1is Send ina few of fancy he’ll get. all the first inning, Ss Roy no .onger - Reuben should - This would 1 urther trouble. ractical joke; but something s perfectly legiti- mate, and 1] d, with a hearty of that sport, it shall hick. When a fellow is run up against us at ! be given a lesson. The ‘freshman thinking he can oa 4 re him. Never mind about ‘80 Jong as you can give hima ry about that. I’ll promise mn, and if he catches more than es it’ll be necessary to bring me shutter.” s very confident as to his ability ‘iake the new freshman “sick,” and dey Counted on no end of fun before spent all his spare time notifying riends of what was to be done, and e was every indication that the first e of the season would be witnessed a large number of the students, In the meanwhile Reuben was doing _ what he should have done on the day pre- vious, asking at headquarters for inform- ation, — ‘ The result of his inquiries was that he — Jearned how far he had been victimized, and this only served to give him a greater desire to pay the debt. _ §o far as the ball game was concerned, he had no idea his fellow-students antici- pated sport at his expense; but fancied the invitation had been extended in good faith for the purpose. of having a game, — and nothing more. - F - When the appointed hour arrived Billy had both teams made up, and since the only purpose was te have fun with the freshman from Maine, his opponents went to the bat, leaving him to make good his assertion that he could catch, - Billy generously supplied his intended victim with all that might be necessary : i the way of an outfit, and led him to is position as Roy went into the box. ‘Now, Reuben, look ont for yourself!” Billy whisnered, warningly. “There are some mighty good players on the other and it would come tough if we lost. the first game, for the regular nine is ilways selected from these trials, and a osition on the University team is some- hing that’s not to be sneezed at.” - “T'll do the best I can,” Reuben re- modestly; “but tell the pitcher to | posed, str S O ab) : e was not so é business as had been sup- Now it was Roy's turn to get rattled, and he gave the batsman. an easy one, which was accepted ;~ but proved to be foul, and Plain Reuben had the leather when if fell. He alone had put two of the opponents out, and matters began to look serious for those who had come simply to laugh at the fellow from Aurora, (TO BE CONTINUED.) JAPANESE ARTISTIC PAINTING. There are no people in the world who can produce such truly artistic results from the simplest materials as the Jap- anese. Most of their remarkable work is done from beginning to end solely with the aid of India ink, and, as a rule, the simpler the modes of delineation affected the more satisfactory the results. There is an account of a traveler, whe, while wandering listlessly through the streets of Pekin, was strack with admir- ation at the workmanship of a Jap screen painter, who was sitting in his studio open to the street. The European, wishing to give hima difficult task to test his real capabilities, requested him to execute a bunch of granes, Judge of his surprise when the artist seized a scrap of screen paper, and dipping his thumb into the India ink began to make a few crescent-shaped smudges, Thinking he must have been misunderstood , the stranger smiled, but said nothing. “ The crescent-shaped forms being fin- ished, the first finger and thumb were dipped together into the ink, and then on to the paper. With afew skillful turns he produced two shaded forms of irregu- lar outline. Then with his thumb-nail he worked in a few dark lines here and there, and smilingly handed over the finished sketch to the amazed European, who saw before him a bunch of plump, round grapes, with a stalk and two life- like leaves, all the result of some five minutes’ work, _ Sn ek i “In Fort and Prison; or, The Mys- tery of Larry Redmayne”? is the title of the new story that has just been written by ek with a dipper of water. dian drained the contents, and , in a pleading tone: Might I rest here a leetle bit? I’ve yme far to-day.” ~ Jovial Mr. Colfax, who had meanwhile a & “- ‘| walked to the door, nodded assent, and brought out a handful of crackers, The peddler thanked him warmly, and, unstrapping his pack, he sat down on the ige of the porch, with his back against soap-box, Iie was a garrulous old fellow, and we jon knew pretty much all there was td snow about. him. We gathered from his rambling narrative that his name was Terry Tinker, that he had seen better days, and that he was now earning a doubtful living by tramping through the State with his pack. Having made us acquainted with his personal history he related some stories of adventure that held us spell-bound. We were rather sorry when he rose to go, but he consoled us by saying that he had taken a fancy to our part of the country, and would likely drop along again. But we did not place much faith in his promises, and con- cluded that we had seen the last of him. However, a week later Terry Tinker re- deemed his word by coming back, and he continued to make periodical visits to Yocumtown until that memorable Satur- day in November, of -which I am going to write. He never staid more than a day or two, and, as it was, some of the people wondered why be staid at all, since he rarely sold anything in Yocumtown. We boys were egotistical enough to think that he came on our account, for we soon discovered that he was a regular “old boy” himself. He would sit for hours on the store porch, telling stories, and instructing us how to make nutting clubs, and set snares for small game. We often gave him his meals, and at night he usually slept in Mr. Colfax’s stable, which was in the rear of the store. By the middle of October every man, woman, and child in. Yocumtown was acquainted with Terry Tinker. I came near adding every dog, but that would have been untrue, Pen Dickman had a big yellow hound called Lemon. He was a keen tracker, and we always believed that he was part blood-hound. It was a favorite amusement with us to give one of our companions a good start, and then put the dog on his trail. : Lemon developed a mortal antipathy to Terry Tinker from the first, and snarled every time the peddler came near. The dislike was mutual, and to avoid trouble Pen kept the hound shut up. We thought Lemon very unreasonable in those days. Mr. Colfax and Terry Tinker struck up quite an intimacy, and spent many an hour in friendly chat. Business dealings may have had something to do with their friendship, for the peddler often replen- ished his pack from the storekeeper’s stock, My Mr. Colfax was_ reputed well off in the neighborhood, and no donht justly so. He had a little of everything for sale, and did a thriving trade with the country people for miles around. He had one pe- cnliarity of which he made no secret. He to keep his money in a big iron safe, which stood in the rear of the store. He O paid cash for everything, and knew flag nothing of notes or checks. rei The house was over the store, and from P the latter a door connected with a one- ae story shed, where iron and agricultural den implements were kept. Here the stock tou, was usually unpacked as it came in, ace My home was next door to Mr. Colfax, thr and two doors farther down the street pat lived Pen Dickman. Pen and 1 were ftif- lea) teen, and Sydney Colfax was a few B months older. We three were almost aba inseparable. str Well, October wore away with fes- bur tive nutting frolics, and we to ing look up our old muzzle-joader adi- V ness for quail and rabbit im second Friday in Novembi cha blustery, and the mor dov good for hunting. ; Sto: As I intended eyd and ;- 4. lev Pen I staid in,t ight, anu\. of f studied myd day. Aboutm Por ten o'clog rea in to discuss shee e a while ago,” he pos aid he didn’t feel very \ ie permission to sleep in’ } owse, Father said he might.” A Net a fellow,” I replied. “The cold 1g must be hard on him. Does he | he he duster yet ?” hie ps es, he has the same old duster,” ae aughed Syd. “I suppcse he uses it for or an overcoat in winter.” fois Then we began to talk about something sel! else, and Terry Tinker was forgotten. RB: Syd went home at half-pust ten, and I i went to bed to dream of the morrow’s ‘tha sport. I was killing rabbits and quail by . the score—as I always do in dreams— Ste. when I woke to find that something ex- ese: citing was going on in dead earnest down the in the street. I could hear a woman ery- the ing, and men’s gruff voices, Footsteps A clattered over the creaky store porch. dis: I was dressed and down stars ina trice, not My father had already preceded me, and resi a lighted lamp on the dining-room table a ti showed the hour to be half-past two. A | old dozen men and boys were gathered in re front of Mr. Colfax’s store, and the crowd sa was increasing every minute. The door clot was closed, but a yellow light shone Col. through the crevices. All seemed to be “ trying to talk at once, and the babel of / su sound was unintelligible to me. 7 $ «I bumped up against my father, and cla asked him what was the matter. E “Matter enough, lad,” he replied. of “That rascally peddler blew open the — mi: store safe, and when Mr. Colfax heard — “ the noise and came down he was struck — sor on the head and knocked senseless. The _ D doctor is in there now. The scoundrel got © the away; and took five thousand dollars in © sti gold and bank-notes with him.” 7 See I could scarcely believe that I had © un heard aright, Terry Tinker a thief and a — ur: safe-breaker! It was incredible. 7 \ Just then Mr. Dickman and Pen hur- — eu ried to the spot, with Lemon prancing at © in. their heels. “a gu: “Neighbors,” cried Mr. Dickman, “the 7 thief must be caught, and here is the dog Car to do it. 1’]] back him against any blood- } hound in the country to follow a scent. — Tir In what direction did the peddler escape? — bu, Can any one tel] me?” i ho Half a dozen voices volunteered the in- | 4) formation, As the rear door was found | tin open it seemed reasonably clear that | Sa Terry Tinker had left by way of the the stable yard. on. Mr. Dickman’s suggestion was eagerly be. received. A brief delay ensued while Tom | no Barry, the blacksmith, and several — pa: others, procnred guns. “aA stc By that time Sydnev had come down, an and announced that his father was re- turning to consciousness. When he heard @ of the proposed chase after the thief, he for allowed Mr. Dickman and half a dozen — an others toenterthestore. Pen andJcount- _ ‘ ed ourselves lucky to be of the number. “9 Lemon picked up the scent close to the du shattered safe, and started off with @ be couple of loud bays. He led us out the ni Sarl door, across the stable yard, an br over the fence into a grassy Jane. Here: wi the party was augmented by a little mob co of men and boys, who had made a detour | Ww] around the side street. Mr. Dickman and — Tom Barry took the lead. The former car- _ te ried a lighted lantern. eS ly Lemon had no difficulty in following | ha the trail. He bounded along with his — m nose to the ground, and it took pretty de stiffrunning to keep up with him. e a sped along the lane to the end of the vil- ar lage, and then cut across a field, coming — fo out on the edge of the creek, near a deep eee OW lace known as the swimming hole. — Ww Pea to our consternation, Lemon {| stopped. Had the peddler taken to the hi water? Cr But the hound was off again instante nosing his way down the bank of the creek, and finally striking off at right angles toward the open country. He gav voice every few seconds, and this kept us on the right track. It was a cold, cleat — Win. Murray Graydon, Wiill begin neat week. _ BR put no faith in banks, and was supposed ‘f night, and the ground was hard undet oot. . . i es n safe, re. He knew d from a one- ultural stock ‘ Jolfax, street re tif- a few almost d and 5%. t, anu\e About ) liscuss ‘O,” he. l very es he ister,” it for thing n. and I row’s ail by ams— Ig ex- down n cry- tsteps y trice, . and table Oo. A ed in ‘Yowd) door shone to be bel of | , and plied. | 1 the# The 1] got | irs in © had — ind a hur- | ng at | “theo p dog” lood- cent. | ape? f that” the § ep in | bs . e cold — ‘Self staring into the barrels of ‘Save a severe headache. GOOD NEWS. 2567 One by one the members of the party flagged and dropped off, until only nine remained. 3 Pen and I were the youngest, but we were extra good runners, and felt confi- dent of sticking the chase out. I[t was tough work, though—over hills and fields, across ravines and rippling brooks, and through ghostly clumps of forest, where our feet sank knee-deep in the dead leaves. Four miles from Yocumtown was an abandoned stone-quarry, and when we struck the road that led to it Lemon turned and followed the wheel-ruts, vay- ing louder than ever, : ; _ We pressed on as rapidly as possible, imbued with the conviction that our chase was near its end. The road dipped down winong the frowning cliffs of lime- stone, and just as we reached the lower level Lemon's baying changed to a series of ferocious snarls. Then two sharp re- ports rang out, and echoed thunderously anong the rocks. At this the hound only barked the louder, so Mr. Dickman and three or four others hastened forward, Pen and [ hung back, but from where we stood we could see plainly, by the light of the lantern, a man crouched ona projecting shelf of the cliff, eight or ten eet above the ground. He had a pistol in his hand, and the two shots just heard ad been aimed ineffectively at the dog. The rascal lifted the weapon again, but lowered it as quickly when he found him- Tom Barry’s shot-gun. “Drop that pistol, and come down from thar,” commanded the blacksmith. The man hesitated, and glanced at the Steep crazs overhead. But there was no escape for him, so he sullenly lowered the pistol to Tom Barry, and dropped to the ground. And now, for the first time, a startling iscovery was made. The prisoner was not Terry Tinker af all, and in nowise resembled the suspected peddler. He was a tall, muscular~ fellow about forty years | old. His smooth-shaven face exhibited a repulsive cast of features, and his hair Was closely cropped. He wore coarse blue Clothes, and a flannel shirt cf the same Color, His hat was missng. “Lemon has tracked the wrong party,” Suggested Mr. Dickman. Not by along chalk he hasn’t,” ex- Claimed the blacksmith. “See here!” € picked up a canvas-bag at the base of the cliff, and it proved to contain the Missing gold and bank-notes. “Then where is Terry Tinker?” asked some one. None could answer this question, and the prisoner, when appealed to, ob- Stinately refused to open his mouth. He Seemed terribly afraid of Lemon, and not Unreasonably, since the hound showed an urgent desire to spring at his throat. We marched our prisoner back to Yo- cumtown in triumph, and locked him up in Mr, Dickman’s stable, putting a strong guard outside. 2 € mystery, instead of clearing, be- Came deeper than ever. Ot a trace could be found of Terry Tinker, though men on horseback and in te a thoroughly scoured the neighbor- 0 . +Mr. Colfax was out of bed by dinner- time, none the worse for his experience, From him came the first plausible clew, and a startling One it was. According to his story he had een wakened in the night by strange Noises, and when he went down stairs, Partially dressed, and looked into the Store, he saw the warehouse door ajar, and the safe blown open. He had no op- rtunity to see more, for a blow from pobind stretched him senseless. Sydney Ound him there five or ten minutes later, and gave the alarm. ume“y theory is this,” argued Mr. Colfax. ante man slipped into the ware house beng the day, and was pvobably asleep ehin the boxes when I let Terry in at rine o’clock in the evening, The burglar roke the store door open, and began “Work on the safe, not suspecting he had _€Ompany. The noise wakened Terry, and aN, Was thrown into the Gausht like wild ig ered why it had not heen thought of be- when he tried to capture the burglar he t murdered for his eae When J come ea the store the body was_ probably Ying around somewheres. The murderer "ad plenty of time to slip away before MY son found me, and I reckon he shoul- Thet oor Terry, and took -him along. Ra dler was a little, weak old man, and wouldn’t have been much of a load or the rascal. It’s my Batist the ae creek at the ace where the hound stopped.” : oe Spite of the fact that the store ox- seg no evidence of a struggle, Mr. olfax’s explanation of the mystery fire. Everybody won- porey The creek was dragged from bank 9 bank, and the*village hecame tremen- fously excited when the peddler’s pack, Pavily weighted with stones, was ought to the surface. His cane was sicking through the straps. J ai \ But Terry inker himself baffled the searchers. The creek was dredged for miles down stream, and an old cannon was fired repeatedly over the water. All was to no purpose, and at the end of two} weeks it was generally believed that the body of the old peddler iad been sucked into some inaccessible hole under the bank, A few days later cold weather set in, and the creek froze over. Meanwhile the prisoner had been taken to the county town, and_ formally charged with murder. The district at- torney was anxious to convict him on this count, though charges of burglary an” assault were also preferred. But it is a difficult thing to convict a man of murder in the utter absence of a corpse, and though no one had any doubts on the subject, the case was continued at the December term of court. It was said that the district attorney had strong hopes of finding the peddler’s body before the winter was over. From the prisoner himself not a scrap of information could be gleaned. He was shrewd enough to keep his mouth shut, and seemed utterly indifferent avout his fate. The case was put on the docket for the February term, and a conviction was con- fidently hoped for, since the circumstan- tial evidence was so strong. About the middle of January a thaw melted all the snow off the ground, and a spell of cold weather set in immedt- ately afterward. Dickman, and I started off on a tramp, and headed unconsciously in the direc- tion of the stone-quarry. On the slope of a hill, less than a mile) from the village, was an old well. It had been dug ninety years before by one of the early settlers; but was now half-full of rubbish. More than once rabbits had jumped in here, and trapped themselves, so we stopped in passing to take a look, No rabbits were visible now, but we saw a heap of brush, which had not been there during the previou ll Suddenly Pen a and thrust the curbing” spectacles. were. Terry at us from time, The conviction flashed simultaneously upon all three of us that the peddler’s body was concealed in the well. We had made a great discovery, and our first im- pulse was to rush back to the village, and spread the amazing news. “Hold on, fellows! I’m going down there,” announced Pen. In spite of our remonstrances he climbed over the curb, and slowly de- scend@ed. Syd and I watched him with terrible fascination as he picked his foot- holds in the crumbling masonry. At a depth of twelve feet he reached the brush, and, springing lightly upon‘it, he began to shove it to one side. No words can express our excitement and terror at this critical moment. We hardly dared to breathe. Twoor three minutes passed, and they seemed like hours. Then Pen uttered a shout, and held up to our view, one by one—a gray wig, a false beard of the same color, and a yel- low, mildewed linen duster. ; “What do you think of those?” he ex- claimed. Ab “Is the body there?” we questioned, breathlessly. Pen laughed. “There is nothing else here but rub- bish. I’m coming up.” He suited the action to the word, and we helped him over the curb. None of us were keen enough to see what the find meant. We rolled the linen duster around the beard, wig, and spec- tacles, and hastening home as fast as pos- sible we communicated the news to Pen’s father. —. Mr. Dickman was curiously elated, but would not say much. He drove us to town in his horse and wagon, and we were soon telling our story to the district attorney. We saw his eyes twinkle as he examined the articles. Then he put the bundle under his arm, and took us across the street to the jail. Mr. Dickman and the attorney left us at the head of the main corridor, and. en- tered a cell near the lower end, accom- panied by two of the jail attendants. Mr. Dickman returned in five minutes, “Come, boys,” he said. “I want to show you something.” We followed him eagerly down the cor- ridor, and peeped into the cell. By this time we had an inkling of what was to come, but the surprise wus tremendous, nevertheless. There stood Terry Tinker between two guards. He looked just as we had often seen him, except that his straight back made him taller. To per- fect the resemblance an old slouch hat had been placed upon his head, and the district attorney had traced wrinkles One Saturday morning, | during the latter period, Syd Colfax, Pen | cry, upon his cheeks. He was in a decidedly bad humor, so the disguise was stripped . together read 54—the multiplier, off, and he was left to his accustomed solitude. Well, the mystery was out at last, and great was the excitemnt in Yocumtown when we returned that evening with the startling news. There had been no mur- der after all, and, of course, everybody was ready to say that they had thought so from the first. It was evident that the disguise had been assuined for the express purpose of robbing Mr. Colfax’s store, and during the rascal’s frequent visits he gradually gained the knowledge that he wanted. It transpired that certain heavy payments were due Mr. Colfax on .the day before the robbery, and that Terry ‘Tinker knew of this. His intention was to get safely |} away with his booty while he was being searched for in the guise of a peddler. hie probably was afraid to trust the other articles in the creek—or was scared away by the alarm before he could put them in the satchel—so he selected on top of them. W hy he chose to keep his lips sealed, when he could easily have cleared him- self of the charge of murder, was révealed a year after his conviction and sentence | for burglary. A report of the case was noticed by the police authorities of a dis- | tant State, where a. desperate criminal was wanted for several burglaries com- mitted under the identical guise of an old peddler. They sent a detective on, who promptly identified the prisoner, and sig nified his intention of calling for him in the course of half a dozen years, requisition was never needed, for Terry | Tinker died in jail before his term was half over. IMPOSING ON BENEVOLENCE. “Fare, please!” said the conductor of a street car the other day to a passenger. The passenger took out his pocket-book looked through it, and produced a five- dollar bill. “It’s the smallest I have,” he said. (tiiehauge it,” rejoined the con- ide you “The col ‘ give change for five dolla do it, anyhow. I haven about me.” owe what's to be done? I’ve got to ride.” . “You’vé got to pay for it if you do.” “T’ve offered to pay you.” “And I’ve told you I can’t change that bill. You turn out something smaller than that or get off.” “T have told you, my friend, that I haven't anything smaller.” “Then get off.” Tbe conductor reached up to pull the bell-rope. “Hold on!” With the fire of honest indignation blazing in his eyes the man turned to his fellow-passengers. “Gentlemen,” he said, “it’s a shame to put a man off a car when he has plenty of money to pay his fare, and is willing to pay it. If this conductor makes me get off I depend on your love of fair play to help me see that justice is done. Just as sure as he puts me off I shall sue this company for damages, and I shall count you for witnesses.” “There’s an easier way out of it than that,” suggested a sympathetic man in one corner. “I’ll lend you five cents, and it doesn’t make any difference whether you ever pay me or not.” “No, no,” replied the other, struck by an idea; “but I shall be obliged if you will give me change for this bill. Any kind will do.” The sympathetic man in the corner counted out the amount, handed it over, and took the bill in exchange. The pas- senger paid his fare, rode a short dis- tance farther, and yot off. And now the sympathetic man is hunt- ing for him with blood in his eye and something heavy in ‘his right-hand pocket. The fiver was a counterfeit. ad t five dolla REMARKABLE MULTIPLICATION. The multiplication of 987654321 (which, you will observe, are simply the figures 1 to 9, inclusive, reversed) by 45, 44,444,444,445. Reversing the order digits, and multiplying 123456729 by 45, we get a result equally as curious—viz., 5,555,555,505. If we take the 123456789 as the multiplicand, and, interchanging the figures in 45 so as to make them read _ 54, use the last numbers as the multiplier, the result will he 66,666,666,606. Re- turning to the multiplicand 987654321, and taking 54’as the multiplier azain, the result will be 53,3383,333,334—all threes, except the first and last figures, which the old well | as a safe hiding-place, and threw brush | But a/| see EXCHANGE DEPARTMENT. ibaa {Important.—This column is free to all our readers. We will not be responsible for transactions brought about through notices in this column. All offers must be strictly exchange offers. We will not insert any “for sale” advertisements, nor exchanges of fire-arims, explosives, dabgerous Or Worthless articles. If exchange notices do Lot appear in a reasonable time, it may be understood that they were not accepted. Address all colmlunications for this column to “Exchange De- partiuent.”) ——. PLAITING MACHINE,—C. H. Rossing, 311 Grove street, Jersey City, N.J., has a combination box and side plaiting machine, 12 inch. roller, for printing press or best offer. BOYS’ PAPERS.—Louis ‘Simansky, 837 Purchase street, Ne w Bedford, Mass., has boys’ papers, song books, joke books, amounting to $8, to exchange tor anything in the printing line or best offer. CATCHER’S GLOVES —David B. Kirk, 1439-1441 Liberty street, Kansas City, Mo., has one Hall ty pe- writer, bound volume of boys’ papers, set boxing gloves, pair ecatcher’s gloves, tour cloth-bound books, three games, and one Duke’s shadow album, to exchange for volumes of boys’ papers, Kodak , camera or coins. CHILDREN’S MAGAZINE.—F, GC, Fulks, 2926 Madison street, St. Louis, Mo., has volume of child- ren’s magazine to exchange for new league ball or } base-ball mitten. STAMPS.—Charles F. Ade, 355 Fullerton street, | Cleveland, Ohio, has U.S. stamps and Columbian stamps to exchange for boys’ papers or best offer. PROGRAMMES.—Fred J. Perry, 1214 Howard street, San Francisco, Cal., has progranmes, cigar- | ette cards, roller skates, boys’ papers, books, ete., to exchange tor boxing-gloves or best offer. CIGARETTE ALBUMS.—Otto Hartmann, 2 Wilkin street, Rocherter, N. Y., has sixty cigarette albums, all different, and a lot of. geading matter and other articles to exchange for best offer. Send for list. BOYS’ PAPERS.—Claude Long, Box 167, Kirk. wood, Ill., has oue volume boys’ papers to ex- change for small camera or 36-inch telescope. (a CORNET.—AustinA. Goss, Box 29, Green’s Sf Landing, Me., has a B flat cornet worth $40 to ex. te change for U. S. stamps. : INDIAN CLUBS.—Charle Magee, Findlay, Ohio, care of Belliard Goblet Co., has one pair three — pound Indian clubs, entirely new, for volume I. of boys’ papers in good condition, bound or un- bound. STAMPS.—John Coakley, of 414 W. Cumberland Street, Philadelphia, has canceled Columbian stamps to exchange for 50 foreign stamps. GUITAR,—John G. Kuauff, 2211 xt. Albans — street, Philadelphia, has an inlaid pearl guitar and » other goods to exchange for a 38 bracket banjo. i SEA SHELLS.—Harry L. Davidson, 1939 O’Far- rell street, San Francisco, Cal., has 5c. and ie, | hovels, sea shells of the Pacific Ocean, petrified | wood, boys’ papers, books, 13 pictures of California we ball players, and 5 cigarette albums to ex- | of 105 ‘Turk stree , 8 cis programmes to exchange for same California, Oregon, or Washington: fener. ; BOOKS.--Earle Stratton, 209 Warren street, Jamestown, N. Y., has books and other articles to exchange tor books or best offer. e BOYS' PAPERS.—Jolin Saulsbury, 31 Lyon Street, Batavia, N. Y., has 800 boys’ papers, 325 varieties of foreign stamps, 1,700 post-marks, anda _ large number of the Columbian stamps to exchange for best offer; photograpic supplies preferred. : ; CIGARETTE PICTURES.—Eddie C. Curdts, 2 Jackson street, Greenville, S. C., has 306 cigarette pictures, 700 tin tobacco tags, and a small horizon- tal steam engine to exchange for a large steam engine or best offer. 7 eens CAMERA.—A. A, Chase, Ballouville, Conn., has _ & 4x5 photo camera and outfit to exchange for guitar — or mandolin. j ; oe BOYS’ PAPERS,—W. P. Kretschmar, 311 Main — street, Greenville, Miss., has a vicycle and boys’ _ papers to exchange for tennis goods or bestoffer. STAMPS,— Rob’t O'Neil, 122 8.1014 street, Terre Haute, Ind., has 200 Columbian stamps and $2 _ worth of reading matter for stamp album. os BOXING GLOVES.—J. C. Davis, Jr., 33 S. 3a street, Philadelphia, Pa., has 8 vols., 3,000 stamps, — and a set of boxing gloves for best offer. S CLARIONET.—David H. Russell, Milford, Dela- _ ware, has a genuine “Martin Freres,” boxwood,8 _ keys, key of B tlat, new instrument, for best offer — in musical instruments. : ACCORDION.—Robert Riemsdyk, 1297 Mil-. waukee avenue, Chicago. Ill. has accordion and reading matter to exchange for an engine, i BANJO.—E. B. L, care of M. Hare, 1703 Lambert street, Philadelphia, Pa., has a $15 banjo, in good condition, minerals, historical and geographical ea game, and 100 Cigarette pictures 10 exchange for best offer in wigs or old coins. STAMPS.—Wm. Slocum, Box 133, Long Branch City, N. J., has stamps, cigarette and tobacco — pictures, and tricks to exchange for books, stamps, — coins, and minerals, : Se hale CAMERA —Frank E, Tripp, Miles, Iowa, has a Nassau camera and two hundred tin tags to ex- change for dynamo or other electrical xoods, on BOYS’ PAPERS.—Arthur Smith, 17 Vine street, Lynn, Mass., has volames of boys’ papers to ex. change for others, Res: STAM PS.—Clayton Barrett, Crafts, Putnam Co., N. Y., has fifty-four Columbian and thirty-six rev- enne and other-stamps to,exchange for reading matter or best offer, es aa NOVEIS,—J. 8. Godine, 32 Gold street,@New _ York city, has 15¢., 25c., 50c., and 75c. novels. De change for mandolin. : seeders BOYS’ PAPERS.—William Hiler, No. 66 West. Nise y Bile - sareehy. New ok city, has boys" apers and tintographs to exchange for sg: < core papers. Either taken. . ; ae vic BOOKS.—Le Roi Luther, Cazenovia, N.Y. he books by Optic, Castlemon, Alger, Otis, Ried _ 4 and Trowbridge, also portraits and entogyeiiarek Ellis, Stratemeyer, Lewis, Graydon, Lisenbee, and chigman to exchange for boys’ papers or best wv E ER ened E . es as CLUB NOTICES. : More members are wanted by the Eureka Cor. responding,Club. Representatives wanted in ¢ States. Admission fee. 10 cents, No dues, A Cyrus I. Davis, Lisle, Broome County, N.Y, All stamp collectors. having a desire to e at sand correspond with other ; in the Keystone Stamp Club, Eldred, Pa., x 289, Write tor particulars, | e GOOD NEWS. ISSUED WEEKLY. SPACE ye eg stele Bestel Terms to Good News Mail Subscribers: (POSTAGE FREE.) Smonths - - - - - 65c.-One Year 2-2 = 5 = $2.50 4months - - - - - 85c, | 2copies, one year- - 4.00 6months - - - -_- $1.25! 1 copy, two years - -_, 4,00 Goop NEWS AND N. Y. WEEKLY, both, one year, $4.50 How to SEND Monry.—By post-office or express money order, registered letter, bank check or draft, at our risk. At your own risk, if sent by postal note, currency, coin, or postage stamps in ordinary letter. RENEWALS.—The number indicated on ‘your address label denotes when your subscription expires. If yous wish your subscription stopped at expiration you must notify us promptly, or else be held re sponsible for payment, as otherwise the paper will be sent. Recerprs.—Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper change of number on your label. If not cor rect you have not been properly credited, and should let us know at once. To CLUB RaIsERs.—Upon request we will send sam- ple copies to aia you in obtaining subscribers. AGENTS.—Our responsibility for remittances ee only to such as are sent to us direct, and we will not guarantee the reliability of any subscription agency or postmaster. All Jetters should be addressed to STREET & SMILES GOOD NEWS, P.O. Box 2734. 29 & SL Rosestreet, N.Y. Back numbers of GOOD NEWS can always be obtained fronyour Newsdealers. If they do not have them please send direct to this office and we will supply them by mail on receipt of price. It is assumed that contributions unaccompanied with stamped envelopes to guarantee their return af unused, are not regarded by their writers as worth, recovering. “Good News" cannot under- take to send back such manuscripts, Advertising rates, 50 cents per agate line. Contents of this Number. SERIAL STORIES. “The Secret Chart,” by Lieut. James K. Orton. ee Green’s Adventures,” by James tis. ; “The Gulf Cruisers,” by Ste Georgelath- | DOV D Geena eete teen ee Tin Box Mystery,” by Edward 8’, \4.~. hye a4 AS entbe! A i ee = 7 ZItCh., fomaaeats —— 0 \ ica ee 7 “fy Ze apne Merriman. “abroad,” by Harvey Pe Wickes ") "8 Boy's Fortune,” by Horatio Alger. SHORT STORIES. “The Silver Bullets,” by David Paulding. “Running Her Down,” by Jack Linton. “Tho Mystery of ‘ferry Tinker,” by Wm. Murray Graydon. ‘ “How He Removed the Rats,” by Max Adeler. “Running Away With an Engine, Sby James Reynolds. “Arty’s Guardian,” by Geo. H. Coomer. REGULAR DEPARTMENTS. “Short Talks With the Boys” on Trades, Professions, and Business Pursuits, by Arthur Sewall. “Exchange Department.” “Ticklets,” by Chas. W. Foster. ‘Mail Bag.” ‘Puzzle Corner.” “Short Stops.” Miscellaneous Items, ete. IN FORT and PRISON; The Mystery of Larry Redmayne. BY WILLIAM MURRAY GRAYDON. + This interesting story will begin next week. It has just been finished, and the scenes areupto date. Fort Snelling, Minn., the principal military post in the United States, is one of the important features. Thrilling situations, graphic descriptions, and lively interest abounds. Not a dull line in the entire story. Opening chapters j will be found in P * and frothed, and yelled, and at last HOW WE REMOVED THE RATS. See Gian, BY MAX ADELER, felt Gh chorea 84 Y house has been infested with V rats all winter, and as setting traps for them did no good, I got Smiley, the sexton at our church, to lend me his dog for two or three days, so that he might help to abate the nuis- ance. We put the animal in the cellar, and he inaugurated his reign by howling all night. In the morning, when the serv- ant girl descended to get coal for the kitchen fire, the dog bit her in the leg. For two days nobody dared to go into the cellar, and Smiley couldn’t come to our assistance, for he had gone up to thecity. On the third day the dog bolted up stairs and out into the yard, where he encoun- tered the slop man, and removed a mouth- ful of trousers and red flannel drawers from the leg of that worthy person. Finding the back window in the parlor open, he jumped in and assumed control of that apartment and the hall. For three days we had to go in and out through the kitchen, I tried to dislodge him witha clothes prop, but I only succeeded in knocking two costly vases off the man- telpiece, and the dog became so excited and threatening that I shut the door hur- aaa and went up stairs four steps at a ime. There were no rats in the parlor, and I cannot imagine why he wanted to stay in there. But he did, and as Smiley re- mained away we couldn’t dislodge him. On Thursday he smashed the mirror dur- ing an attempt to get up a fight with another dog that he thought he saw in there, and he clawed the sofa to rags. Every night he devoted his time to howling. Ou Saturday he had a fit in the hall, and spoiled about eight square yards of Brussels carpet utterly. When he re- covered he went back into the parlor. At last I borrowed Cooley’s dog, and sent him in to fight Smiley’s dog out, It was an exhilarating contest. They fought table and smashed. abkthe grmaments on it, they seattered blood and hair. . er ts over the carpet. * ‘pence ngled in one afie™ a | Locman + + THE FRENCH BOY. Up to the time of his quitting school, a boy in France is treated as armachine which needs constant supervision and re- striction, and which, in default of such unceasing care, is sure to go wrong. The lad is taught to do everything by fixed rule and at regular hours, to rely in all things upon the initiative of others, All individuality, all idea os Detach re- sponsibility, is thus destroyed, The play-ground of a French school a oy a revelation to the average boy. It is too small for play, and, as a matter of fact, only the very young boys play. He is taught gymnastics far more sys- tematically than is usually the case in this country. But there his physical edu- cation has begun andended. It is not so many years ago since the Minister of Pubiic Instruction addressed a circular to the heads of the principal educational establishments in France pointing out that complaints had been made regarding the number of accidents which occurred in the practice of gym- nastics. The matter was referred toa committee, and it was only after some discussion that it was decided that the th , } ir a § 2g pi on the chairs and the sofas, they mpset & from « personal point of view rather than + a | tions . United States does a telegraph-operator advantages, on the whole, outweighed WITH THE Sica BY ARTHUR SEWALL. me Cart. JACK, Buffalo, N. Y., writes: “I am fif- teen years old and would like to learn French. Can you tell me of any book that would enable me todo so without a teacher?” No, there is no book by which you could learn the French language perfectly without a teacher. Professor Keetel’s “First Book in French” is the title of a book intended for young people who can read, but who have not yet any knowledge of the grammar of their own language. It contains pictures, and has the descrip- tion in French and English. It is an‘ob- ject lesson, and while one might know how to spell and write the names of the different things that may be pointed out, they could not pronounce them .as they should be. The sounds must be taught by a competent teacher. O. O. J., Agnew, Mich., writes: ‘Would you kindly advise me where in the United States a telegraph operator gets the largest salary? Would it be advisable to go West, and which is the best to work for—a railway or telegraph company? Ismy writing good ‘enough to se- cure me good office-work? Would type-writing and short-hand improve my position? Lnow re- ceive $40 a month. Am seventeen years old, 5 ft. 5in. in height, and weigh 1380 lbs.” We have in recent issues of the Goop NeEws so thoroughly expressed our opin- ions in regard to becoming a telegraph- operator that there seems nothing left to say. We have invariably taken the ground that the occupation was one that might well be left to young ladies, and that it behooved young menetowstrike out into somethingysturdier, | luet us,-however, consider your letter S upeiyeur ‘Ou ask where in the tarde _s ota evan ANAS, eeueral’ ole, alu: oa ta s one-by one... Yo receive the highest salary. Unquestion- ably the highest paid operators are in the largest cities, and probably the best oper- ator in the employ of the Western Union Telegraph Company is at their main office in New York. The salaries paid in the West are not necessarily large, but, ow- ing to the lack of competition, good sal- aries are paid, and insomuch as no ex- penses are incurred by the operator, he can save most of his income. A mining engineer once told the present writer that he would never leave New York city again, and on asking him why —it appeared that for two years he had received $2,000 a year as superintendent of a mine in Arizona, at a place wheré there were not five houses. He received in addition to his salary a house or lodg- ings, with food at the expense of the company. All he had to purchase was his clothes, and a suit of overhauls .once every three months would have made him a dude. You see, therefore, that the value in going West is only relative. Work for a railroad company in preference to a tele- graph company, as there is a greater chance of your success. So long as you do your duty at an office belonging to a telegraph company, no one can find fault with you, and you retain the place, We fail to see any chance for promotion. You can remain there for five, ten, or twenty years. Onthe other hand, in a railroad a there are opportunities to be seized by the competent man. Prove your ability, and you will prove yourself worthy of advancement. Type-writing and short-hand are valu- able accomplishments, and will naturally make you amore valuable man to your employers. All knowledge increases one’s value, so that if you can practice these arts you are in a position to command an increased salary over one who is not as well posted. ‘Your handwriting is good, but your composition is somewhat faulty, and your spelling is incorrect. It would be we 1 to brush up on these points before accepting a place in a telegraph office. For a young man of your age we think that you are doing very well. There are many boys in New York who receive only $3 and $4 a week, but who are just as old as youare. We have repeatedly ad- vised against giving up asure thing for an uncertainty, so we would caution you to consider well the advisability of re- maining where you are. ‘Telegraph-oper- ators are paid from $15 to $25 a week, At first you could not. expect to receive more than $15 a week, or $60 a month, and say in two years you reached $25 a week, or $100 a month, would that be equal to what you might hope for if vou remained at home? BOYS dent upon himself. Napoleon carved out his reputation for himself, and from a sub-lieutenant in the army advanced to the command of an army. Later, he be- came Eniperor of the French, Benjamin Disraeli from a dilletante man-about- town became prime minister of England. Garfield began at the tow-path and ended as President of the United States. You see it is in your power to make a place for yourself, P, R, Santa Fe, N. M., writes: “Iam 18¥ years of age, and am deaf, but not dumb. [ have acquired a good education. Please inform me where I can get work during vacation? I am going to college at Washington, D. C., and there is where I desire to get something to do.”’ To get work to do is never an easy task, and this is especially the case when one is without any special knowledge of your qualifications for work. Moreover, the difficulty is enhanced by your unfortun- ate impediment. It seems to us that we would advise you to consult with the col- lege authorities in Washington concern- ing some light employment, Dr. Gaullaudet is a man of extensive influence, and doubtless can suggest more to you than we can. Washington, how- ever, is a difficult place to secure employ- ment, as there are always more looking for places than there are places to go around. The Government clerks are mostly poor men with but little money to spare, and therefore any extra work that is possible for them to secure from the departments is naturally seized at once. lt is said that there is always work in the way of out-of-town letters to news- papers, which you can furnish if you are bright. Such letters are easily written and the material is ample. Odds and ends of gossip with reference to the society and bits of information about the work- ing of the bureaus, or special facts deal- ing with the scientific departments of the Government can without difficulty be ures and made ipto a very readable etter. Perhaps you can make such an arrange- ment with your own local newspaper in Santa Fe. They would be interested in knowing about the work of the United States Geaogicai Survey. Irrigation con- cerns all the Western States, and espe- cially the Territories of New Mexico and Arizona, Major Powell, the director of the Survey, would be glad to tell you about it. Cultivate the acquaintance of the officers of the Smithsonian Institution. Professor Otis T. Mason can tell you lots about the Indians of your New Mexico that will be interesting. The Department of Agriculture has todo with the cultiva- tion of special plants and fruits through- out the United States. From these you can pick up facts that are new and valu- able. If this suggestion proves of service to you, you can readily see avenues by means of which this sort of thing can be increased. Perhaps you can work your way into writing magazine articles. Not long since a magazine published a series of papers on the National agencies of sci- entific research, including descriptions of the work of the United States Coast Sur- vey, the United States Geological Survey, the United States Weather Bureau, and other like bureaus. We know of nothing that could be done more easily than such work, and if prop- erly handled ought to yield you a fair income. A less congenia] kind of work is canvassing for some subscription book. If you work this properly there is consid- erable income in it. After all, however, for a young man in Washington trying to get an education there is more important work than earn- ing money. You have your studies to attend to first, and if you have any time left after that devote it to sight-seeirg. In the United States National Museum there is enough to keep one busy for six months at least. Find out how the wcrk is conducted in various departments of the Government. Study and see the pro- cesses by means of which a piece of paper becomes a bank-note. Learn how the pen- sion bureau is operated. Find out what the Life Saving Bureau does and how it does it. What is the Light House Board for and what are its functions? The Capitol, with the House and Sen- ate, are very instructive. How many citizens, think you, know how laws are made? What is a bill? How is it intro- duced into Congress and what course must it take to become a law? All these things are of far more value to you than the earning of a few hundred dollars dollars for you when you are older. — —————— a anneal AN adventurer who had drifted into Lead- ville, says a truthful Western paper, awoke one morning without food ormoney. He went out and shot a deer, which in’ its’ dying agonies kicked up the dirt and disclosed signs of gold. The poor man staked outa claim, and openec one of the most profitable mines ever worke No. 162, Next Week. the chances of disaster. ~< wevir, Allen or Hardwick. that’s easy enough to wey, but how can you prove 4 was the short reply. Is it necessary to prove f returned Hal, just as Wickly. + Well, the case is just ere, we don’t want spies found here. The police "Ould pull this place ina “Minute, if they knew of it.” tal could not help but Mile “Do you know how I “arned of this resort?” he asked, 1a. One of the dudes who hee t know how to keep S mouth shut told you, I i wiepose. e (This Story Will Not be Published in Book-Form,] ‘HE TIN BOX MYSTERY: OR, THE STOLEN RAILROAD BONDS. was commenced in No. 154. flection Hal resolved for the present to put up at one of the cheap hotels. the statement made to him by one| o'clock, still wearing the false mustache of the proprietors of the gambling- | and Jack McCabe’s hat, Mr. Sumner did ‘Alt is true the mustache is false, but it | Back numbers can be obtained of all This he did, and slept soundly until morning. When he slouched into the office at ten not at first recognize him. “What do you want?” he asked, from Far aes ee “You are certain?” ‘ “Yes, sir. I followed him right into the place and watched him pTgy.” “Humph! Did he win?” *® “No, sir, he lost heavily.” Horace Sumner gave something like a groan. “I am being deceived. on alli sides,” he said. “Ifa man is a gambler he is often something worse. How about Hard- wick?” “T have reason to believe he went to a ball last night with a lady friend. He gave a note to Dick Ferris and I followed Ferris. It nearly cost me my life.” And Hal related the particulars. Hor- ace Sumner listened with keen interest. When he learned how Hal had- been struck down, and afterward found him- self in the icy vat, he shuddered. “That will never do,” he cried. “Hal, you must give up running such risks. I would not have you lose your life for all the bonds in New York. We will call in one of the regular detectives, and——” “No, Mr. Sumner, I started-on my the- ory and I wish to finish the work. I did not know how desperate the men were with whom I have to deal, but in the future I shall be prepared for them.” “Have you—are you armed?” “T intend to buy a pistol, sir, as soon as possible. And I wish to ask a favor.” “What is it?” “Will you advance me a little money? Imay need it in traveling around, and my dis- guises may cost——” “You shall have what you please, Hal. You are theonly eT y Al ‘ Ki es rushed up to Mr. Sumner and kissed im. “Oh, papa, why didn’t you tell me?” she burst out, with something like a sob in her voice. “Tell you what, pet?” asked Mr, Sum- ner, with a shadow on his face. “About all those bonds being gone. Lucy Cavaler mentioned it to me this morning when I called on her to go shop- ping. Have you got them back?” “Not yet, pet.” “And who stole them?” “T don’t know. ‘I and this young man have just been trying to find out.” The girl turned to Hal, who took off his hat, bowed, and then blushed furiously. “This is Mr. Hal Carson, one of my em- ployeeg,” went on Mr. Sumner. “Hal, this is my daughter Laura.” Laura Sumner extended her hand, and Hal took it. Their eyes met, and from that instant the two were friends. “You are trying to help papa find the stolen bonds?” she said. “Yes, Miss Sumner.” “He has done some excellent work on the case,” said Mr. Sumner. “He is dis- guised now, as you can see,” he added, with a faint smile, which made poor Hal blush again. “Oh, I trust you get the bonds back for papa,” cried Laura. “If you do, I’ll be friends with you for life.” “Tt’s a whack—I mean a _ bargain,” re- turned Hal, and then both laughed. “But you haven’t told me why you didn’t mention the matter to me, papa,” went on Laura, turning to Horace Sumner, “I did not wish to worry you, pet. Since your motker died you have had enough on your shoulders running the household,” one I have in the office to de- Ve —— ——— o. An old apple-stand fellow told me.” . 428 that straight?” tt is. So if the police anted to run you out they Ould easily do so.” _€ proprietor muttered wething under his breath. ice” 1, you are sure you “ete t intend to give us ay, then?” | yido not.” ; . What brought you?” foot iosity concerning a «2W who played here.” «What fellow?” «Mr, Caleb Allen.” aa pat! the man who just Pd a row 2?” “Yes,” «Ate you spotting him?” m Excuse me, but that’s any business. He has gone, Wil) pith your permission I 7 follow him.” he old gambler looked at “TD Or a second in silence. Sa 1 trust you, for you Yo € the right kind of eyes. are following Allen for Urpose, but that’s none pies a Of just, affair, When you go Dlacg ret all about this Ton,,’; unless you want to la hanger some time and try “ . wit stank you, I will,” and lege Out another word Hal doy 2e room and hurried eH Stairs, ‘toy asty look into the va- i that Tooms convinced him i buijqy Allen had left the 1 o 4,28; and then Hal lost ‘me in doing likewise. | Bust, at hehad seen had dis- ‘ “Hy, him beyond measure. n ght men can stay up all lika 20d gamble in a place ; Stang hat I’ can’t under- Would he murmured to himself. “I Vit d rather be in bed and asleep. And t elanids to reason the proprietors have Tun st of it, otherwise how could they Harce a gorgeous house?” Ment Was soon on the snow-covered pave- ba He looked up and down, but Allen «7 Owhere in sight. fart) ‘Sno use to try to follow him any y €r to-night,” thought the youth. “I ~but® well get home and get some sleep Ney, » 20, Tcan’t dothat. I must finda Oarding-house, and go under a dif- Sup, “ame for the present. One thing is fash} Mr, Allen can’t gamble in that He © with what he makes honestly. pees a and ick are ; : Tones. Hardwick are a couple of deep nd that’s all there is to it, and i q nt Ferris and that Macklin are their ls,” how too late to hunt up a regu- ng-place, and upon second re- N= | le LZ / ~ tir 7 ii ee eeeeee aT. Se Fase “I WANT TO KNOW WHAT YOU ARE FOLLOWING ME ABOUT FOR?” DEMANDED HARDWICK, JA / = ES ME i eo sy Ae fi iN (fs L ty) % = , is > _ J if i 4 SSS ee EE A AS HE LEVELED A REVOLVER AT HAL, the book-keeper’s desk, where he was busy, instructing the new man in his work, “JT wish to see you in private, sir,’ Hal’s reply, and he winked. For a second Mr. Sumner was puzzled. Then he smiled and led the way to his private office. “Hal, I hardly knew you!” he burst out, the instant the door was closed. “T hardly know myself, Mr. Sumner,” was the youth’s reply. “The mustache is almost a complete disguise.” “LT intend to adi a beard to it soon,” said Hal. “I have news for you. Mr. aan was not in Philadelphia yester- a ath Not Where, then?” “He spent a great part of the time in ue evening in a gambling-house up- own,’ - was pend on, and you are doing a remark- able work for one so young.” “If you will let me have, say ten or fif- teen dollars——” : “Here are fifty,” returned Mr. Sumner, handing over five crisp ten-dollar bills, “When you need more let me know.” “But—but I won’t want this much!” gasped Hal. “Yes, you will, if you are determined to go ahead. Don’t let dollars stand in the way. Why, I have already spent one hundred and fifty dollars on the regular detectives, and they have done absolutely nothing.” Without another word Hal pocketed the bills. As he did so there was a knock on the door, then it was flung open and a girl rushed in. She was apparently a year or two ounger than Hal, and had blue eyes, ight hair, and a remarkably pretty face. ~ “And haven’t you had more than your share, papa, with troubles in the office, and trying to find a trace of baby Howard 2” “I have given up all hopes of ever learning of the fate of my little boy,” sighed Mr. Sumner, and as he spokeatear stole down his cheek, which he hastily brushed away. CHAPTER XXIII. HAL’S BOLD SCHEME > , ¥ AL could not help but ag =| feel a keen interest in the conversation be- tween Mr. Sumner and hisdaughter, Evidently there was some deep family sorrow behind the words that had been uttered. He stood respectfully by until Laura turned to him suddenly. “Excuse me, but I suppose I interrupted you when I came in,” “No, Lhad about finished,” replied Hal. “You have no further instructions?” he con- tinued, turning to Mr. Sum- ner. “No, save that you must

Grand street. This neighborhood was entirely new to Hal, and he was at once satisfied that the tall boy was not going to pay a visit to Tommy Macklin. : Passing down Grand street, Ferris pres- ently came to a tall, white building with a large open hall-way, the entrance to which was covered on either side with signs. ; a Intering the hall-way, Ferris mounted the stairs to the third floor, and then passed to a small office in the rear. Hal was not far behind, and he had no difficulty in locating the apartment Ferris entered. The upper part of the office door con- tained a ground glass panel, upon which was painted in black letters: ROBERT E. HAMILTON, Fint LAw AND BLANK PRINTING. For a second Hal studied on how to get into the place, but soon an idea struck him, and he lost no time in entering. He saw Ferris in earnest conversation at a small counter, which ran across the office, which was narrow but quite deep. Hal edged up and listened to what passed between the tall youth and a man in charge. Ferris had a number of slivs in his hand, and these the proprietor was exam- pene of continuing toward the ining with reat care, “You wish all of them duplicated?” he asked. “Yes,” replied Dick Ferris. “Tt’s a nice piece of work.” “T suppose it is, but the firm is willing to pay for it.” “Who are the blanks for?” “wr. Albert Schwartz. But I am to call for them.” “1 do not know the gentleman.” “T will leave a deposit on the replied Ferris, promptly. es “Oh, all right! And how many of each of these blanks do you want?” “Twenty of each,” “What! No more?” “No, Next year we are going to have work,” an entirely new set. If you do these ’ NEW S. right, Mr. Schwartz says he may you the new work.” “I’ll do them in the best style. How soon do you want them?” “As soon as possible. Weare in a great hurry for them.” “In two days do?” “Oh, yes !” “Very well. dollars.” “As much as that?” “Yes, I will have to take my workmen from another job, and we always charge a little more for a rush.” “How much of a deposit shall I leave?” “Five dollars will do.” “Then here you are.” Dick Ferris pulled a five-dollar bill from his pocket, and after receiving his receipt, walked out of the office. He glanced at Hal as he passed, but the young detective’s back was turned to him, and Hal seemed to be interested in some prints which hung upon the wall. “Now, sir, what can I do for you?” questioned the proprietor, turning to Hal. He left the slips Ferris had brought lying upon the counter. “T would like to know how much you charge for printing wedding invitations,” ¥ They will cost thirty-six replied Wal, approaching the counter where the slips lay. “Wedding invitations, eh?” The pro- prietor smiled. “Here is a young man about to get married,” he thought. “By his looks, I think, he wants something rather nice.” “Yes, sir,” Said Hal. “With an engraved plate, I suppose?” “Of course.” “T’ll show you our book of specimens.” The man turned away to where a num- ber of books were lying upon a side desk. As he did so, Hal carelessly picked up the slips Ferris had left and examined them. ; He could make nothing of them, ex- cepting that one had the words “ Bonds of the Second Class, receivable,” printed across its face, and another,.“Sumner, Allen & Co. Transfer Slip of Limited Calls, December.” = “Here you are,” said the man, coming up with one of the books, and he gath- ered up the slips and put them away with a memorandum, Hal looked over the book, and noted down the prices of several styles of invi- tations. “Ido not want to order now,” he said. “TI merely wanted the prices.” “Very well, glad to see you at any time,” returned the man. Once in the street again, Hal looked up and down, but could see nothing of Ferris. But when the youth reached Grand street he beheld Ferris making fer down town as rapidly as his long legs could carry him. “l suppose he is going to stand outside and meet Mr. Allen when he comes out,” thought Hal. “1 will follow him, and see what turns up next.” Dick Ferris walked up Grand _ street until he came to Broadway. Here he stood upon the corner, and _ presently waved his hand toward a passing horse- car. Immediately a man descended from the car, and came toward the tall youth. It was Hardwick. ; “Hullo! This can’t be a chance meet- ing,” said Hal to himself. “No wonder Ferris hurried to the corner. He almost missed his man,” / As Hardwick stepped from the street to the sidewalk, he glanced toward where Hal was standing, gazing into a shop window. Then he turned to Ferris and the two began an earnest conversation. . Hal passed the pair, but did not catch a word of what was said. Nor did the young detective notice Dick Ferris’ quick, nervous look in his direction. few minutes later, Hardwick and Ferris walked back down Grand street. Reaching Chrystie, they turned into it and walked along several blocks until they came to a narrow alley leading to a lumber-yard. Both passed into the lumber-yard ,and out of Hal’s sight. Wondering what had become of them, the young detective passed the place. ; Noone was in sight. “That's queer, I wonder if they entered that building in the rear?” For fully ten minutes Hal hung around, but neither Hardwick nor Ferris put in an appearance. : A wagon was Icading up on one side of the yard, but presently this drove off, and then all became quiet. Watching his chance, when he thought no one was observing him, Hal entered the gate of the lumber-yard, and. burried down to the building in the rear. There was a window beside the door to the place, and Hal gazed inside. An elderly man was present. He was seated beside a hot stove, toasting his shins and reading a morning paper. “They didn’t enter the office, that’s certain,” said Hal to himself. “Now, where did they go?” give Suddenly be stupped short. Wa. possible that Hardwick and Ferris . discovered that they were being follow and had slipped through the lumber-y merely to throw him off the scent? “Tt certainly looks like it,” thous Hal. “I’ll sneak around the back w: and see what I can discover.” Back of the office were great piles luniber, all thickly covered with snc Among them could: plainly be seen footsteps of two people. The marks w fresh, and led along the back fence :F then to the right. Hal followed the marks among the pi™ ; of lumber until he came to a spot whi = all became mixed, as if some one had ‘Coes traced his steps. As he paused, examining the tracks, yar j heard a noise behind him, and, turnis's Age he found himself confronted by Ha wick. The ex-book-keeper held a pistol in 4 hand, and his face was dark with p'! sion. Ry 1 “IT want to know what you are follo } ; a Te Cc ing me about for?” he demanded. And he took a step forward, and l/s eled his revolver directly at Hal. aylig > (TO BE CONTINUED.) Hht ha —_—_—_—_~>_+- > _____ ood h PIG-STICKING IN INDIA. ta’, ering oOM yentur UR next meet,” says a foreign Copier &) respondent, “was at Warree, ay V we had excellent khubber to ("hag “AS courage us. We had to put off op 7” meet for four days, however, on accouy ery of heavy rain. The pigs had moved frop qi), their usual quarters, but in the afterno Speal we dropped on a solitary boar, who mq j:no. certainly would have given us the si, bac had not ten spears been out. He stuck w), the scrub-covered, stony Warree hilleaq and we were chasing and losing hija, sp fresh finding and losing him again, fq jj, good hour, till at last he teok upfm sp quarters in a nullah, whose sides Whj's pe thickly covered with scrub jungle. Alt\ya being bombarded with stones for sO#No” time, he eventually left this, only}r, uy charge back again. I happened to Mt.” — him, and on he came, fury in his @#A yj bristles erect, and full of wrath and n# Uy, ice. Both of us were going full tilt, a Whe as I passed on, I left nearly two fee# Gone steel and bamboo buried in the boamauliy muscular body. 1 felt his snout aga my boot, and fully expected he had me. Luckily he did not. He then sul in some thick stuff, and crackers which we had’a good supply—failing§. oust him, one of our number said he sure he was dead, and would go in see. If languagecould have told H— the danger he was incurring, he w have thought twice before doing ; But he was deaf to expostulation, B not dismounted. He had hardly taken th a tw et paces, when, as we all expected, t# ut was a ‘ Woof-woof,’ and H—— was 0D Bpers, back in a trice. ] had ranged upa Was side of H—— on old Bravo, and distra™lrebra the boar by prodding him—uselessl¥e ma course, as we were both standing § but it made the boar turn his attent me, and he was under my poor old f in a twinkling. You can picture }Allb frame of mind and my anxiety forers | horse, for I never for a moment expe@fOlves we should get out of the scuffle wittmat niishap; and yet, strange to relate, 1@ and so did H——, for beyond having }'ndre the wind knocked out of him he was 4 The hurt. I can only account for the fz the boar being so blown from all hustling he got that he could not use #oVere tushes with effect; and he had a pr he cay ell, a pair, too. Well, to make a long gH A%™m short, we eventually had all to go imyat b foot at him in the scrub. There was shinin, room for three abreast, and as Start couldn’t see him, the proceeding Peeling somewhat risky; but the two Aah Hee the leading three got their spears (P3nior into him as’ he charged, and, moreo Tes ¢ held on; the others did the rest, and phadd ‘Whoo-whoop!' sounded over a reg. * 4 plucky thirty-inch boar, after a gi eache fight.” tle 3 ———> +> —___—_ pam 8) ELECTRIC POLICEMAN, eyes ; — a It would he impossible to find a b Spri guardian for a valuable building electricity. It is the most trustwom®? of and efficacious custodian imaginable, pvith vided only it is set to work in the prognd W way. There is one safe deposit in Bo which is especially well off in this ” spect. The gratings of the vaults, are all so cpus? nected with electricity that it is a Wi lutely impossible for any one to ey aw’ without giving analarm. Even the md ments of the officials and officers are ‘corded, so that the absence of any on them from their posts is at once notifi, ; + - ee A grand treat in store for ofr rea next week, See page 2568. W Wh doors and windows, and even {Phis. 8 rt. - Wal 1 Ferris ny follow lumber-y S. scent? % it,” thou¥ » back w reat piles with sne be seen marks w ; fence 7 Bx {THES STORY WILL NOT BE PUBLISHED IN BOOK-FORM. } 3 “Mat Merriman, the Mesmerist.” e tracks, yar MERRIMAN ABROAD” was commenced in No. 151. id, turnis's Agents. } l by Hay CHAPTER XXI. CAMPING IN THE DESERT. distol in k with p! aie roto oll an hour the chief and his ke followers had disposed them- d, and UE selves for the night, although ‘al. there was yet fully two hours aylight, in which time several miles ) ‘ht have been accomplished. oe bod having been disposed of, Undulini NDIA _ tbe adventurers were left alone in * ¢ tented wagon, though a_ separate fee and bed was provided for the ffnturers, y iasree. hief,” Mat said, “answer me, truth- bber to y are and what is the wild man— put off oppre Spirit, cee ery bad spirit,” muttered the chief, e afternog dilating a2 ES peak!” commanded Mat, ‘oreign who has recently been “what do oh ra know of him?” ie stuck A bad spirit! Not aman! Him dead, nen hips. While since.” rhe Ny Dead | How did he die?” gain, fo Bt Sporba » Undulini burned him. Cov- ok upf 11m with wood and set fire to it. sides weisg pPitit come out and cursed Undu- le he hi's people.” g for soli WY bat was he? A missionary?” | No,” returned the chief, with a shud- 7 om. im not a missionary—only ser- 1 his CBA missionary’s servant?” and M®Um, um!” he boul aetiot gescaped Undulini many years. 1t agaibirit atetas many since then; but bad : hada ays haunt him—always. “ore than this it was impossible to arn, and US little party had to be con- t with it. After a little left the fen su ackers while they had heard, _#mounts to this,” Mat said, when Y Were within the tent ee had been 1 atlas on at their disposal. “The wild man ‘kena 1a ot your father, Mr. Whalley, and op burn out to be noconnection, either.” ny Ut the box in his possession, and the it We W hat of giver ” Hirebra, this fellow his servant?” asked a rand, suddenly. “That is nearer to ‘© mark,” Bc. ay be so,” Mat replied ; “and to- si we 11 wish our black friends fare- #ay2 22d hunt him down.” hrers ving agreed upon this the adven- pg OY. down to rest, with the cries of €S and jackals in their ears; but e wi ite, 1@r they wer i ie e under th 101 aving Mndreds of iavnacn. the protection of ’ 'S night ® wr | will-o’-the-wisps. That brute of yours will run him down On, so that they could talk over what | in no time. i sible! Back numbers can be obtained of all carries a big burden. See,” asa flood of moonlight burst upon the rocky hill be- fore them; “it is aman! It is Mr. Whal- ley being borne away by the wild man! Haste!” With rapid strides our hero and Fire- brand dashed in: pursuit. This proceeding of the hermit was wholly inexplicable. How had he man- aged to enter the tent without awaken- ing any one? And how could he so easily bear olf the body of a large and powerful man? He must have been possessed of the strength of a giant! Mat reproached himself for not having placed Leo on guard at the entrance; and now the thought cameto him that the lion would be of the greatest service in this chase. To desire his presence was the work of an instant, and the thought was conveyed to the beast with equal speed, ‘rhe response was a terrific roar, and Teo dashed after his master. ©: That will awaken the natives,” Fire- brand said. “No matter; Bob and Alf may join in the chase. On, on! good Leo!” continued Mat, as the lion reached his side. For a moment the wild man paused on aspur of rock, and stood distinctly re- vealed in a flood of bright moonlight; then he uttered a wildcry of derision and disappeared as suddenly as though swal- lowed up by the earth. “We shall lose him yet,” panted Mat. “Oh! what will become of Mr. Whalley?” “Wave no fear,” was the consoling re- ply of Captain Firebrand. “We have al- ready gained upon him considerably, and a couple of big men can’t disappear like The game is ours, See, he has reached the spur of rock already.” This was true, and on the summit Leo paused, and uttered a prolonged cry, something between a roar and a howl, In breathless haste our hero and Fire- brand ran forward, and to their astonish- ment could see no trace of the hermit. “Great Scott!” ejaculated the captain. ‘“There’s something uncanny about that fellow. Hehas vanished into nothing- ; ness.” “But where is Mr. Whalley? Impos- He must be hiding somewhere.” However, this mystery was quickly solved by the disappearance of the lion, in a mass of dense shrubs, which had been artfully trained to conceal a hole at lat sound had no terror for them now, | the base of a large rock. “Follow!” shouted Mat, hysterically. “Coming,” returned Firebrand. “Look ; tht deepened until the stars, to your pistol, sir.” ™ed brilliantly, and with the passing | arting the bushes, our hero dropped 1 all POUrs the wild beasts became bolder, and recklessly into the cavity, which was t use POVered tah tun a prihe eat a few bundred yards of ca Parc, Ust have been g } eCame aware tl . ° hi aware that the moon was ee 2 ak brightly, He had awakened with | ling Meeling “4 Sense of chill, and an unpleasant | at He ® altogether anke ant Could is rics of during the pauses between the| ad phudder the animals without, and with a a ¥e tose preparing to compose him- | a gitache en a distant human voice | He acan Sain th ut S at ery, but now farther away. saw o1geine to his feet, he looked out and er of arly inthe moonlight, and quar- a be ng st wo ible, } 1e pro 4 burden. ee ; hurled Then a torch flamed up, e Set put his hands, but found that | Was yas ately occupied by Mr. Whalley | high into the air, and | fully ten feet deep, and found himself in | a spacious but dark cavern, In a moment past midnight when his companion was at his side, and a cautious advance was made, for they were unable to seea yard beyond their noses. “Pity wehaven’t got a torch,” Fire- ear the snoring of his com-| brand said, “This will be slow work.” “Hark! We can follow Leo’s voice. He is not far aheadof us. Hurrah! We shall save Mr, Whalley yet.” Suddenly they became aware of a dim light before them; but at present could not estimate its distance. “Thank goodness !" said Mat, fervently; “we are on the right track.” “But must not rush into the arms of death,” his companion replied. “We know not what the madman may have in Ww ith'a h mile away, the figure of a man. store for us.” As he spoke the light vanished, and both were of opinion that a door or an Bost! actions. a shower of sparks in all di- | aperture of some kind had been closed. this ? What could it mean? at € become suddenly ill—deliri- ithont a further thought, Mat started tance, Pusuit, but found that he st Ptain Firebrand was at his side. mo Seen the same as have you, Mr. ~ in,” he said. “Something is ifeterri ~ tam coming with - WwW ’ = narned.” eee ese Once only he looked back, and heard a great commotion in thecamp. Alf Wat- son was not following! A moment he_ stood irresolute; but the next started — away again, well aware that his figure | was plainly visible in the moonlight, and — that pursuit would soon begin. He reached the hills, and threaded a dozen rocky and narrow passes, until winded, and in a perfect maze, he sat dowa to rest. ae eet Pies fe a celebrated pote like Robert Blunt, Es- sa -. Undulini is the true king, and has a wise 2572 bs There was no sound of the enemy, and now poor Bob almost burst into tears, “Which I am safe: for the present,” he muttered; “but what about my _ friends? What has become of them? And what’ll be the end of Master Watson? Why didn’t he stick by the side o’ this ’ere pote, and then we could have fought for each other. It’s worse than awful to be lonely.” He sat, his face buried within his hands, until the shades of night had been chased away by the light of morning, and the sun was climbing the brilliant blue sky. He had no heart to go farther. Where was the use, and of what value was life to him now? After a while he became curious whether the natives were still encamped in the plain below; but it took him a long time to get out of the winding passes of the hills, and the day was half- spent ere the view he desired was before him. “Gone!” he groaned; “which I’m all alone in a country as nobody knows any- think of. Is this to be the conclusion of quire? Oh, my friends and comrades, edi- cation's no good in a land——” Ping! He fell flat upon his face, with the idea that a bullet had shot past his ear; and yet he had heard no report. With the fall one of the chambers of his gun discharged itself, and immediately the sound had died away, a similar “crack” nearly split his ear-drum, Bob felt that he was being regarded by some watchful foe, and that his last hour had most assuredly come, * * * * * Bob Blunt’s impetuous rush, fierce as it was, left little chance for Alf Watson to follow, forhe wasimmediately grasped by many powerful hands. Two or three savages pretended to pur- sue Bab fora little while, but their fears lest heshould be possessed of some magical power deterred them from pressing on, and they returned to the camp again, de- claring that he had vanished like aspirit, albeit his form was still to be seen gal- loping up the hill-side. Secco, the lientenant, again came forth and interviewed his men, expressing great disgust that the elder prisoner should have been allowed to escape, and Alf was forthwith conducted before Undulini, ~ who had also been aroused by the ais- turbance, though the half-hypnotic trance in which Mat had left him, seemed to have dulled his interest in passing affairs. He received the news of the absentees with stupid stolidity, and when Secco artfully inferred that their prisoner had been left as a gift by the magicians, and should be sacrificed to the amusement of the warriors, he neither gave negative or affirmative. , For the time being ‘his mind was par- alyzed-—a state in which Mat had pur- posely left him, little dreaming that he iad» a lieutenant of so treacherous and ambitious a nature. “Great chief,” said Secco, “the white magician bid us have much sports with ue prisoner. -What does Undulini say ” The chief closed his eyes and snored atte grunting a perfectly unintelligible reply. . Secco withdrew, and with the dawning day was haranguing the warriors. -“Undulini no good. He must die! He must never return to _ settlement. Secco will be your chief, and lead you to ~ the hunt. The whites shall learn that the glories of our fathers have revived, and tremble. Undulini no good. Seize him, and then the white prisoner shall nerish!” But Secco had reckoned without his host; he was not so popular as_ he imag- ined, and his rabid politics were not em- braced by the older members of the tribe. who were the tutors and the tutored of - the sagacious Undulini. They listened with frowns and indecis- on. How many were the followers of Secco? Most of the young and the fiery were en- thusiastic, and the elders judged that the ¢ase was a desperate one, ; The plot which Secco’s. brain had evolved was the death of Undulini, and himself proclaimed king. ~ “Undulini no good.” he continued, “He have no sports. He frightened, and not - worthy to be chief of so great a tribe. He must die.” The repetition of the young warriors’ enthusiasm was interrupted by one of the elders—a man who had long been deemed great in council, and whose head was white as snow. : _. He held up his hand, his eyes flashing — witlr scorn. y “Warriors, stay your hands. Secco has _ said words which surprise us all. Secco is a fighting chief without judgment, but » head. Lay your complaints before Undu- ee RS Goon NEWS. “Qld man * fool }" shoutidSeeto, “He shall “die,” Rt rae — Fifty spears wertgraised; but the elder was at once protect i the hostile parties bers alm@st even, “Go traitors!” the elder cried, ud is our chief, and no other.” * For a few minutes a conflict was immi- nent, but the elder advised his adherents | to retreat, and take charge of the sick Undulini. This having been done, the loyal party started with all speed for the settlement, ere the news of the disaffection could reach the bulk of the tribe, “Warriors,” shouted Secco to his party, “we will make a new village, and soon our victories in the chase shall make all Undulini’s people flock to our side. All white men shall die, and the littie tribes shall be subjugated till the army of Secco shall sweep all before it.” “Yah, yah!” “Now, we will find a-spot for a new village; then start away for prisuners and cattle, after sports with white boy, and all who stand in our way shall die,” “Yah, yah!” ; A little later the mutineers started in an opposite direction to that taken by their late companions, not halting until sunset. The spot chosen was one sur- rounded by natural fortifications; it was on the summit of a range of hills, and belted with savage rocks, The next few days were devoted to the prisoner, Alf Watson, should be brought out for the pleasure of his men. After a series of fiendish tortures, it was decided that he should be roasted alive to the tune of a war dance, for on the morrow Mae! intended to start in search of war and bloodshed, (TO BE CONTINUED.) oe © > —-————— RUNNING AWAY WITH AN ENGINE. ——_e——. BY JAMES REYNOLDS. ethnics Gp tactntemsess OME years since—it is not neces- sary to state how many—there lived on a pleasant stretch of Jand near Bordentown, N. J., a family of the name of Bross—this is about as near the name as we care to go, for the reason that many of its members, wealthy and respected, are well known in New York; and we may add that what we are about to relate had nothing to do with them either as individuals or as a family. On this. farm there resided a very beautiful girl, as house-servant, who was as full of mischief as a monkey. Her life was a continual frolic. Overflowing with vivacity, and as impulsive in her move- ments as a young colt, she frolicked her time away, continually. getting herself into scrapes and generally getting out of them unscathed. When she laughed she put every one in good humor; and her voice, musical as that of a canary bird, was ever running over with music. We have said Mary Scott was_beauti- ful—the word isnot strong enough; mag- nificent better expresses our idea of her form and feature. She was a Juno, a Gamymede, and a Venus in one person, and as fearless as it is possible to con- ceive a woman to be, and, withal, exces- sively good-tempered. Had she paused to think, it is more than probabe Mary would have been more sedate in her deportment: but as her ani- mate spirits and her quick-silverish dis- position would not let her indulge in re- flection, she would get from one difficulty into another, and then laugh herself out of both, It is needless to say that so handsome a girl could not escape unnoticed, or that every young man in the country around was “head-over heels” in love with her; but none knew how toapproach her. She was so different, this mad-cap, from other girls with whom they were ac- quainted, that they did not know “how,” as they said, “to take her.” Notwithstanding the transcendant love- liness of Mary, it is questionable if she ever stopped to think how handsome she really was; and, as for the “fellows, she eared nothing for them.” There was one young man, howeve ~~ an engineer on the railroad that skirted the farm—with whom she was on more familiar terms than with others, whom she called Jim Brown, and who was as fond of getting off practical jokes of a harmless character as herself. The good- hearted youth was really in love with Mary, but he had sense enough to know that playing spooney and “sighing like a furnace” in her presence was just about the worst policy he could adopt, if he would win her heart. Jim Brown generally took his dinner in the village, while his iron steéd was fill- lini, and he will speak.” ing its stomach with water, preparatory hunting, and then Secco announced that’ to its next race. On such occasion the fire was permitted to slacken in its fierce- ness. It happened one day that Mary was sent to the village on someerrand. While passing the station, she saw the locomo- tive standing on the track above; even its tender was detached. The girl stopped to look at the fire- ister, and then, while, a avs iia sr omind, frightened?” Without another word, or a thought as to consequences, the mad-cap jumped upon the platform of the locomotive, closed the door of the furnace, and with- out well knowing what she was about, beyond the one idea of frightening the engineer, she managed to ge. hold of a crank and gave it a half-turn. She had opened the throttle-valve, Instantly the steam in- the boiler rushed with all its force into the cylinder, and to her as- tonishment the great wheels of the loco- motive began torevolve. Her first im- pulse was to jump from the platform; but before she could turn to do this the engine commenced driving the wheels at a fearful rate, and the whole machine sprang along the track at a speed that could not be rated at less than fifty miles an hour. Jim, who had been quietly eating his dinner, had seen through the window, near which he was sitting, the girl get on the platform, and knowing her frolicsome disposition paid little heed to her. Cer- tainly he had not the remotest thought that she would be mad enough to tamper or play with the works. He discovered his mistake when too late. “Heavens!” he cried, as he jumped to his feet, his usually rosy face becoming: as vale as white marble; “that Mary Scott 1as run off with the engine. She will be cGashed to pieces! And,” he added, as he optic. vbr to the door and looked up the road, noting with his experienced eye the fearful progress of the locomotive, “the two-forty train will be due in fifty minutes. What shall I do? Oh there will be hundreds killed and wounded, if there should be a collision !" Fortunately, at that moment, a dirt train rolled into the depot. Brown at once ran to the engineer of the locomotive that drew it, and cried: “Quick, quick! Detach the tender, and let me have the engine. Life depends upon it, Don’t ask questions now. Be quick! Be quick !” While he spoke, he frantically filled the furnace with wood, and opened the valve, The man to whom he had spoken saw the terror depicted on Brown's face, and without a word did as he was bidden, The next instant Brown was driving over the road at even greater speed than was the runaway girl, who stood helpless on the locomotive whose rage she had in- voked, her long, soft, ringletted, sunlit hair streaming inthe wind like whips from the mastheads of a war-ship; her bright, large, brown eyes—no laughter in them now—wide open, and her rose- stained lips half-parted as if in moment- ary expectancy of some dreadful calamity confronting her. Her form was, however, erect, and as she flew through the coun- try, she muttered: “Well, it’s no matter! I did it out of fun, and if I must die for it there’d be nobody to blame but myself. 1 feel sorry for Jin), as he’ll lose his engine, and per- haps his place, for letting a silly gir] like me—whom staid people say is half-crazy —get on the platform.” On—on, with even increasing speed the locomotive plunged, and behind it even more frantically, if possible, whirled Jim's engine, gaining little or nothing upon the runaway, which was now ten or twelve miles ahead. To save the mad girl’s life—the life of one whom he pro- roundly loved—and to prevent acollision, were objects worthy of his utmost efforts. “T wonder,” mused the girl, “if I can’t somehow stop the thing. Let me see. Yes, now I recollect the furnace door was open, and I closed it. Well, that I can undo,” and as she spoke the door was thrown back, “and next I turned some- thing round.” > This part of the mechanism, however, she could not recall; and as she did not like to touch anything else for fear of in- creasing the speed of the locomotive, she desisted from further effort, resolved “if she had to die, to die gloriously.” It happened that there was but little fire in the furnace when the gir] closed the door, and that had now nearly ex- hausted itself. The steam had gradually decreased in force. The machinery worked slower, and the great wheels on the track ceased to revolve with that rapidity they had shown during the first few minutes of her involuntary journey. From fifty to sixty the progress of the vehicle gradual- another speculator, who was soon James Brown was now in sight of runaway, and in a minute or two he immediately behind her, the speed of own engine being necessarily reduced + til it accompanied itself to that on wh; she was, which within less than a qu ter of an hour wholly stopped. _“Heaven be thanked!” ejacula Brown, with all the fervor of a grat heart. “Ten minutes to spare! ‘lhe press train won’t be upon us_ befor an) of the way.” very, very sorr But it was a glorious ride!” “If Heaven had not helped us, M. perhaps a hundred lives would have » the penalty of your freak. The two-f@) express train will be heie inless than » minutes, and you would have struck But say no more now—till I get t} locomotives on the side track, ou harm’s way.” } In five minutes time thé engines y where Jim desired to place them. had hardly accomplished the task, w a heavy locomotive, puffing and shrt ing, shot round the bend in the ro with ten or twelve cars attached to it, the rate of thirty miles an hour, “See, Mary, what. you have escape and as he spoke, he for the first time his life placed an arm around her wais The girl. did not resist the embra She trembled a little, and turning 1 fine eyes full upon him, now swimn in tears, said: “Jim, only keep this a secret from’ folks on the farm, and I’ll promise a/ thing—do anything you ask of me.” | “Will you promise, Mary, to be wife.” The maiden hid her head for a mom, - on her lover’s bosom, and then giv’ him her hand, said half:laughingly: “You’re a mean fellow to take one} ata disadvantage. But, as I have pre ised, I’l] stick to my word.” : “Bless you for that,” whispered Jij half-distraught with delight, as he i pressed a kiss upon Mary’s ruby lif “and you’ll never run the engine agai “Never—never, dear Jim. Oh, whaj wicked, wicked girl I’ve been; but mend my ways! If it will please you, even join the church,” ‘ Jim laughed, and, placing his betrot by his side, managed in the course the station from whence they had stay The people on the farm wonderef_ Mary’s delay. : She had been absent nearly two h When she did return she looked a more demur® in the face, and her m ments were quieter than usual; buy — was not until three weeks had pa) | away—not until Mary had assumed} name of Mrs. James Brown—that were told the story of her fearful ridé. a locomotive. ———_ +0 —___ PRECIOUS STONES AND THEIR, LEGENDARY MEANING. ; — The ancients attributed marvelous p erties to many of the precious sto} and particular gems have been marke@ their own distinguished fables. are the different months and the st@— sacred to them, with their respect legendary meaning. Here is the January—Garnet; constancy and fidé in every engagement. February—A thyst; preventive against violent } sions. March—Bloodstone; courage, dom, and firmness in affection. Ap Sapphire; free from enchantment; notes repentance. May—Emerald; di ers false friends; insures true love notes meekness. June—Agate; inst long life, health, and prosperity. Ruby; discovers poison; corrects resulting from mistaken friends August—Sardonyx; insures conjug licity; also the moonstone, which n domestic peace and large families. tember—Chrysolite; frees from evil sions and sadners of the mind. OctoP Opal; denotes hope, and sharpens | sight and faith of the possessor, Nov) ber—Topaz: fidelity and friendship; vents bad dreams, December—Turquo prosperity in love. —___—_>+ +> ______ A QUEER business transaction has come to light in Paris. A man wa: rested for buying a blind man, It sé that the first owner of the blind ma cured Lim from an asylum, and use lead him along in front of the café beg. The venture was not a fin success, so he sold his blind ma ~ gusted,.. The unfortunate man wa serted on the streets by his purch and in that way the police be },mé ly slackened down to eight or ten miles, quainted with the peculiar tra) r }! thirty minutes to get the locomotive) — et t oO nes we enn sk, wi — shrt he ro to it, scape time r waig embra ning | vy imm from” lise a Soe aA 1e, mom n giv/ gly: | e one) ive prG red Ji\ . a iby li! e agall }, what ; but { : you, betrot 2ourse otivel d star :deref ro he lah er ni 1; bu d pa vat hat al ridé a HEIR, . t lous s sto narke 3, Ba he ste respec he ta’ d fide} ry—Al lent rage, t : H nent } dA; dist loves ; ins y. JU ects @ riends). nivg ch 6 fies. evil 1 Octobe rpens 4 NeM ship; } ‘urquo n has) n was It s d man nd use he café finaDa 1 mab soon n was purch#) a hoe , h ry i ah hn GooDpD NEWws. _ 2573 ved the water. yARDIAN. dit almost —-.- ind on the 3m0, H. COOMER. roceed. fr~ | eriorais is the great dog you have Rlliold me of in your letters,” I said rg to my friend, Charles Marston, at whose Colorado home I had just arrived; “what a noble fellow he is!” It was an immen§e mastiff which, with a tread like that of a mountain lion, had approached me where I sat and laid bis large head confidingly across my knees, “Yes,” was the reply; “he is a noble fellow, indeed; noble in character as, well as form. Anuie and I can bear testimony to that without the least reservation.” “Annie,” was my friend’s pretty young wife, and her face glowed with feeling as she looked upon the strong, stately creature which appeared so bent upon forming a friendly acyuaintance with me. “He can never be overpraised,” she re- sarked. “We call him ‘Arty’s Guard- ian,’ for he has twice sared our little boy’s life, so that he has well earned the title, we think.” . “I should say so,” was my answer, “I have had a curiosity to see him ever Since learning of his performances.” “Hecame to us in a singular manner,” said her husband. “It was just after a terrible blizzard that we heard a loud scratching at our door. I opened it, and in rushed a huge dog. He commenced pulling at my trousers, all the while look- ing wistfully up in my face. I was a little shy of him at first, he was so large and powerful; but it was soon plain that he wished me to follow him, andI didso. He appeared very impatient, running ahead, and often looking back with a short bark, as if to encourage me. “About a mile from the house we came to a spot where a man lay dead in the snow. He was a stranger who had lost his way and been frozen to death in the storm, We discovered afterward that he was from Boston, and had been prospect- ing through our region. I procured assist- ance, and had the body removed to our house, where the faithful dog continued to watch beside it until it was laid away forever, Then he attached himself to us in the most affectionate manner, and here he has been ever since. “ *Brutus’ was the name on his collar, and to that he answered eagerly. Our little boy was then two years old, and the great brute appeared to comprehend the child’s helplessness as well as a human being could have done. “The winter passed away, and as the Weather became pleasant Arty would Sometimes go toddling about out doors, though, of course, never very far from the house. One day a couple of horses belonging to a neighbor of ours, while attached to a heavy wagon, took fright and ran. They came in this direction, tearing on at full speed. Arty happened at the moment to be standing right in the wheel track, and when his mother discovered his danger the team was al- most upon him. “She flew screaming from the door, but Saw that she was too late, as the child was ten or twelve rods off. It was an awful moment, but just then Brutus came bounding to the spot. He had bare- ly time to seize the little fellow in his big jaws, and leap with him out of the path, when the cruel hoofs and wheels went thundering by. Could human in- telligence or human courage have done more than this?” “It was a wonderful act,” I said, “and I should hold such a four-footed guardian above all price. But the panther incident about which you have written me—I would like to have you point out the Spot where that took place. Yonder, I Suppose, is the pond, and that old lean- ing tree by its bank, I shonld guess, must be the one you described.” The pond was a deep water sheet of Several acres, lying about twenty rods from the house, and the old tree, which Thad noticed in particular for its singu- ar position and form, was a great Snaried oak, three or four feet in diam- ter, leaning from the bank in such a manner that a person could have ascend- = it with very little difficulty. The sunk was short, and one huge branch xtending from its fork, reached out over 16 pool likea gigantic arm. is ou are right,” said my friend; “that ye © pond, and that old oak is the very a ®& “Sunny Lake’ is the name we give Our little basin, because on bright days SO reflects the sunshine. But I tell Tae, We ought now to call it ‘Panther Ee though that would be’a rather ce name, I must confess.” ob €s; much too fierce for my liking, Served Mrs. Marston. “We shall let oa old tree stand asa memorial of what aie Occurred there; and yet at times I meee shudder when I look at it from th, window here, it makes me so realize lat dreadful scene.” ne of these days it will fall into the water of itself,” said her husband; “it Seems as if almost ready to do so now, ” But meanwhile you shall hear the story from Annie’s own lips. She can tell it better than I can, for it wasan adventure all of which she saw, and part of which she was. Brutus was a part of it, too, and see how he pricks up his ears, as if he knew what we were talking about, I wish he had the power of speech !” “Poor Brutus!” said Mrs, Marston, “you should have seen him, after that terrible struggle; he was torn in every part of his body, and must have suffered dreadfully. “We heard that a panther had been seen a mile or two from here, but it did not seem very probable that he would venture near the house especially in the day-time, and so the rumor did not pre- vent me from going about the premises as usual, though I knew that a strip of thick woods reached from the main forest, which you can see yonder, to the very margin of the pond. I did not think that a wild beast would be tempted to follow such a narrow line of thicket, with open fields on both sides of it, but the event showed how little I knew of the crea- ture’s habits. “One afternoon my husband had gone away to the village seven miles from here, leaving me alone with Arty and old Brutus. Toward evening I went out to gather some beautiful lilies which grew in the water at the edge of the pond. I had seen them the day before, but some of the buds were not then sufliciently opened. “IT took Arty with me, and put him down near the bank, where he at once began a chase of the yellow butterflies that were winging their way about him and lighting among the high grass. Bru- tus we had left in the house enjoying a comfortable nap. I found some difficulty “MAMMA! MAMMA!’ CALLED in getting at the lilies, and so a consider- able time was occupied in gathering them; but all the while I kept Arty within call, and could hear his baby voice talking now to me and now to the butterflies. “At length I was startled by a peculiar sound as of some heavy animal rushing with a springy motion over the grass; and this was immediately followed by a cry of terror, and a plaintive call of ‘mamma, mamma!’ “Springing quickly up the bank I saw a sight that even now it frightens me to think of. Before me stood a large, fierce creature, with flaming eyes and waving tail, apparently just ready to leap away with the prize that he had snatched up— and that prize was my own little boy! “With outspread arms and a scream that I think could have been heard for more than a mile, I rushed straight to- ward the savage beast, which seemed startled and confused by such an unex- pected act. He bounded a few feet, then stopped for a moment, looking about him with those glaring eyes, and finally sprang directly upon the trunk of the old oak, still holding Arty in his mouth. “He ran up the leaning body of the tree, and upon reaching its fork went out like a great cat upon the long branch, which, as you can see from here, stretches so far out over the pond. “It was plain that the fearful enemy could be nothing less than a panther, and even in my terror and confusion I realized that it was only my unlooked for presence between him and the thicket from which he had come which prevented him from taking to the woods, For an instant the thought of Brutus crossed my mind; but should I run to the house to let him out, would not the savage beast peers and escape, taking Arty with rim “ “Mamma, mamma!’ called my poor litle darling, stretching out his dear baby hands for me to help him, If I hesi- tated as to my course it was but for an instant. The next moment I was climb- ing the leaning trunk, using both hands and feet to assist me. “The panther growled frightfully as I stepped from the fork upon the large limb where he crouched; but I went forward as fast as possible, balancing myself as I did so with all the skill I possessed. “At first it seemed as if the beast had no thought of retreating, for his whole attitude was one of defiance. His back was rounded, and the hair upon it stood up in a bristling line. But as I advanced his tactics changed. He looked first one way then another, and presently leaped down into the water. Yet his hold of the child was never for a moment re- laxed, and with Arty still in his mouth he struck out for the opposite bank. “T leaped frantically after him, and in fact almost upon him, so that he but just avoided me as he swam. But the water was up to my shoulders, and I knew that it would deepen at every step. The horror of that moment I cannot describe. I floundered on for a few yards, thinking only that I would die with my child. The panther would quickly accomplish the crossing, and then farewell to all hope! ; “ “Oh, Arty, Arty!’ I cried, in agony, as the water rose to my very neck, and I saw that with another step my footing would be wholly lost. MY POOR LITTLE DARLING.” “Tust as the words escaped me there was a heavy, swashing plunge beside the bank, and looking around I saw the head of a great dog pushing out into the pond, while the strong paws were tear- ing through the water with a prodigious force. “ ‘Brutus, Brutus!’ I exclaimed ‘oh, quick, quick, good dog. Seek him, seek him!” “But the noble animal needed no urging, “He had leaped through a window—the very window you are now sitting at— taking sash and all. And now, with every sweep of those broad paws, he was gain- ing on his enemy, encumbered as that enemy was with his living prey. “The two animals landed almost at the same moment on the opposite shore; and dropping his prize on the grass of the bank, the panther bounded fiercely upon his pursuer, “T flew, rather than ran, around the end of the lake, a distance, as you may see from here, of about forty rods; the yells of the panther and the hoarse growls of Brutus all the while filling the air. “Arty lay on the ground so close beside them that he was every moment in darger of being trampled upon; and as I caught him to my heart he had strength only to murmur once more that dear, piteous sound, ‘mamma, mamma!’ “¢Oh, mamma has got you, my darl- ing,’ I cried, as I fled with him from the spot; ‘mamma bas got you!’ “Looking back presently I saw that both combatants had rolled down into the water, where the battle was still con- tinued, now one and now the other seem- ing to be uppermost. “Upon reaching the house my joy was great at finding that my little one was, after all, not dangerously injured. The panther’s teeth had been fastened mostly in his clothing, though, of course, he had some bites which I knew must be -pain- ful. It was so much better than I had feared. “ Afver dusk Brutus came limping home, covered with blood and wounds. It seemed to me that he had not a piece of whole skin as large as my hand. Yet he crawled up to Arty and licked his pale face and laid his head upon the little baby breast. “Charles came home in the evening, and early the next morning he fished the body of the dead panther from the pond, Brutus had finished the common enemy, sure enough. “You know the very largest dog is not supposed to be a match for a panther, and so we have always thought that it was the water which decided the victory in favor of the noble creature that fought so bravely for our child. Brutus is so im- mensely powerful that he was probably able to force the panther’s head under the surface, while the sharp claws of the ferocious beast could not be used there as effectually as on the land. ~ “Such is our panther story, and I am glad you have come here to make the ac- quaintance of dear old Brutus, who al- ready knows, just as well as you could. ones that you are a lover of’ his cind.” The brave dog looked as if he under- stood every word that had been said, and going up to Arty he gave him a loving lap with his broad tongue, then once more came and laid his head across my knees. a STRANGE POSTMEN. > YAS, LETTER from South Africa! yh , Through what strange hands and SY scenes this letter must have gone before it reaches its destination. At the African end my friend, who lives one hundred niiles from a settlement, em- ployed a native-runner to carry the letter to the station. This wiry sprinter pre- pared himself by removing all clething, rubbing his body afresh with grease, and filling his snuff-box. He takes no other food but snuff for his three days’ journey; if he needs anything to eat, he can get it from the native huts. He placed the let- ter in the split end of a stick to keep it clean, for if it came in contact with the rancid grease on his shining body, all the perfumes of Araby would not make the mail desirable to receive. Thus equipped, these men run like grey- hounds, with little rest and much to- bacco, till they finish the trip. While there are no roads in Africa, the whole country is a network of paths between the villages, even through the jungles and forests that we have always believed to be impassable, These are the African “star routes.” In India letters are carried in nearly the same way, sometimes a number being placed at the end of a stick. The mes- sengers run through jungles infested with cobras and man-eating tigers. They carry bells, and at night torches. There is a pony express in China now. From the palace at Pekin to the bounds of the empire the emperor's carriers gal- lop, shouting: “ Way for the king’s mes- sengers !” They are begrimed with dust, and their cut and bleeding faces often show what perils they have encountered. The route between Lassa, the capital of Thibet, and Pekin has changes of horses, but not men. One man must ride night and day the three thousand miles’ distance. Dis- pa have been carried in twenty-five ays. The man who is to carry the messages puts on a long robe, in the lining of which are the dispatches. The robe is then tied fast and sealed upon the man, and must not be taken off. The messenger rarely eats anything or sleeps; he drinks a little “buttered tea” at stoppings, and smokes opium. This keeps him up till he reaches the imperial city, and receives great honors and large sums of money. No private mail is carried by these mes- sengers. 3 : There are picturesque mail-carriers yet. In the Landes of France, where the ground is marshy, mail-carriers mount on high stilts, and stride across the coun- try as though on _ seven-league’ boots. They are not afraid of falling, for they can balance like jugglers; and it looks very quaint to See one doff his cap and hand down a letter to a pretty damsel. The camel express of India is a gorge- ous affair, with trappings of high color on the camel and rider. The camel is a rapid traveler, doing sometimes eighty miles a day; but the jolting is something fearful. It 1s said to shorten the rider's days. The light buffalo cart of India is often a BS74 natty affair. A trained buffalo will make as good time as a horse. j A team of reindeer can go seventy miles a day. The Russian mail routes in the Arctic are equipped with reindeer sledges that fairly fly over the crisp snow. —_—_—_—_>- ee ___ {Thus Story will not be Published in Book-Form,] THE GULF CRUISERS; OR, Voyage of the Lost Canoe BY ST. GEORGE RATHBORNE. (“THE GULF CRUISERS” was commenced in No. 156 Back numbers cau be obtained of all News Agents. J eh eee CHAPTER XVI. A MANGROVE PARADISE. HE canoe continued to rock vio- lently, but with less danger of cap- sizing. Whatever the cause of the sudden commotion could have been, it was evident that the peril was past, at least for the present. Both of the voyagers thrust their heads out of the tent. Blackness lay around them, the night breeze had gone to sleep. The noise still came at intervals from theswamp. Jack’s keen ear caught some- thing else near-by,’ and his suspicions were at once aroused. “IT know what it was, Aleck,” he ex- claimed. “Tell me, then,” eagerly exclaimed the other, who had stared into the darkness, but not being gifted with the vision of an owl, had failed to make any discov- oh @ an alligator, swimming into this cove, must have come up under the boat. I heard his crawl up on the mangrove roots just now.” “And I reckon you’re about right. Per- haps the old villain thought it wasa rival asleep here.” “Hardly that, Aleck. One snap of his jaws would crush our boat, while a sweep of his tail might reduce it to kindling wood. No, depend upon it, the collision was accidental. I have no duubt the rep- tile was as much surprised as ourselves,” “IT hope it won’t be repeated, then,” muttered Aleck, whose heart was still throbbing faster than its wont. “Hardly probable. I’m going to sleep again.” “IT believe you could sleep, Jack, if hung up by the thumbs,” said Aleck, en- viously. “ld try it, anyhow,” returned the other, crawling back to his hole. The balance of the night was even more wretched to Aleck than the first part had been, for now he had a. new source of alarm added to the rest. Nothing occurred to disturb them, how- ever, except that a coon jumped aboard when the canoe, turning with the tide, drifted near the mangroves, Aleck chanced to feel the little fellow tapping at the canvas close to his head, and gave the spot a sharp blow. A splash followed, and when the coon crawled out of the water on to the mangrove roots, it was undoubtedly a more suspicious ani- mal than it had been previously. Aleck slept no more. He watched the coming of dawn, and when it was light enough to see plainly aroused Jack by shaking the boat. The other opened his eyes at once. “ Another ‘gator, Aleck?” “No, but the sooner we meander out of this region the better I will be pleased. Why, ve acreak in my back now that will last me a life-time. I’ve aged’ since yesterday,” returned his companion, mournfully. “T reckon your hair’s turned white. Well, first of all, the tent must come down. We'll begin with your great wad- ing act.” “I think we’ll dispense with that this morning.” “How now, Mr. Mate?” “Well, I don’t fancy an encounter with alligators and water moccasins,” with a ane of his shoulders that made Jack augh. , © Wise chap, Aleck. I quite agree with ou. This is a villainous bole to bathe n, anyway. Let’s seo how we can get iis They managed to take down and stow the tent. Thenacold breakfast was eaten, after which the paddles came into play. Swiftly the Wanderer glided along be- tween the everlasting mangroves. Aleck examined them-enriously. They grew very large down in that region, ce- creasing in size as they ran farther north. “A enrious. tree-bush,” he -mused, “growing where nothing else can grow—in the mud where the flood tide covers their — -yoots, I think the qneerest thing about _ them is the way they propagate.” — the stars shone overhead, while: “How is that?” asked Jack. “Captain Lucas was telling me. see, if they had seed like ordinary plants, it would be washed away by each rising tide. The object of the mangrove is to concentrate, It has aseed about the shape of an old-fashioned long nine cigar, with the pointed end down. When it drops it sticks in the mud, and quickly takes root.” “The ways of Nature are ingenious, in- deed. I’ve often thought of these things. Take the common thistle. It desires to spread and seek new pastures, so the seed flies away on the wind as thistle-down, to lodge in some fence corner where the soil is just suited to its propagation.” Thus conversing the young fellows pad- dled and sailed by turns for it may be set down as certain that they never let a chance slip by when they could make the wind do the work of their arms. That they succeeded in keeping near the outer edge of the numberless man- grove islands was a source of much satis- faction. Aleck congratulated his compan- ion on his skill in accomplishing this feat more than once. Several times during the morning they had glimpses of the gulf, and both were inclined to believe they must be nearing the lower end of the great bay that held the labyrinth of islands. Noon passed, and still they were in the same kind of surroundings. Aleck groaned at the prospect of another night such as the previous one. At two o’clock they entered a wide passage, and headed a trifle west of south. On one side was a key and not a mangrove island, which fact Aleck hailed in a spirit of delight. They even discov- ered a turtle “crawl,” and understood from this that in the season men came here to catch the famous green turtle of commerce, using gill nets with a mesh of about sixteen inches. Later on they saw the turtles captured in this way, and also turned over on the sand when they came up to lay their eggs at the full of the moon. The open water beyond the key was Lawson’s Run, being simply another out- let of the bay. Beyond it lay a very large strip of land, partly swamp, known as Key McLaughlin.