= SASS Bie = << GOLD AND SILVER PRIZE PUZZLE. SEE THIS NUMBER. Sa oe | ss ise o> Nore ay me ae A YI hs SDOUTH aye" AV) 7> et Fiat Entered According to Act of Congress, in the Yer 1894, by Street &@ Smith. in the Office of the Librurian of Congress, Washingion, D. C. Hrilered as Second-class Matler at the New Yori: N.Y... Posti-Onice. Vol. 9. ete Bee tS aw come New York, June 9, 1894. See No, 214. LUE AND WHITE SAM; OR, RIDING FOR FORTUNE. BY ERNEST A. YOUNG. S “MT a LI A S| | eee nn ——— 1 a (“BLUE AND WHITE SAM” was commenced lust week.) SYNOPSIS OF OPENING CHAPTERS. | ryidentiy the prowler wished to injure some of Sam Talbot, a poor boy out of work, was | the racing stock, aud they must be on their tramping along a country road when he ‘sud- | guard. denly espied a runaway horse attached to a Sam was left to guard the stable and had a sulky. He succeeded in stopping the horse and | lively time with one of the ‘wild’ stock—a was warwly thanked by the owner, Mr. Rags-| young mare of splendid proportions. He dale, a race track follower. Ragsdale took Sam | finally got her outside and quieted down. On home with him, much to the anger of Tripp, aj|his return to the stable he heard strange half drunken jockey. | Voices. Heran up to the loft overhead and | At the stables it was learned that Jack Gard- | saw t wo men—a stoop-shouldered ruffian and ner, a hired man, had had trouble with a rascal | a horsey-looking man he had met on the road— who had been seen around there several times. | enter below. rd Z L.A SAM RODE WELL AT THE TRIAL ON THE TRACK, AND JILLY SEEMED TO THINK THAT A HEAVY WAGER WAS PENDING ON HER SPEED. 3410 GroOoDpD NEWS. “That boy came in here,” said one of the men, ‘‘and the first thing to do is to find and settle him.” be pees Sam, leaning on athin rail, listened with in- terest. AS he did so—crack—the rail gave way-—the hoy pitched forward—down shot his form, alighting squarely upon the shoulders of the ruffian! CHAPTER IV. SAM AT THE TRACK. REAT SCOTT !” gasped the horsey stranger, recoiling from his com- panion, who had dropped like a log under the weight which had de- scended so unexpectedly upon his rounded shoulders. Sam Talbot was on his feet in an instant, and confronting the one who had spoken, while the other, whose person broke the boy’s fall, lay groaning on the floor. ‘Forgot to say I was coming, but I am here just the same !” Sam exclaimed, coolly, “Well, who are you, boy? And what are you doing here in my friend Ragsdale’s stable ?”’ the stranger demanded, eying the boy in a crafty, disagreeable way. = * “Mr. Ragsdale is your friend, eh?” Sam retorted, meeting the gaze of the other squarely, ee ought to be, if he isn’t, after what {ve done for him,” said the stranger, signifi- cantly. : : “You see,” he added, while a mirthless grin caused the man’s white teeth to appear, “a man that advances cash to another man, when t’other is in a pinch, deserves to be counted as a friend, though it don’t always turn out that way.” ; Sam remembered what Ragsdale said about the runaway filly being hisif she were paid for. It therefore oceurred to him that | this disagreeable stranger might be, after | visitors were out of sight, and he was ac- | all, a money creditor to the more PRES sessing sporting gentleman. em =a earns He liked Mr. Rags- dale, yet he really knew nothing about him. ‘Tl go slow and’ watch which way the wind blows !” was his mental resolution. Aloud he said : ‘If you come here to see Mr. Ragsdale, you will have to call again later. He left me | in charge of this stable till he came back. If you've got any message for him, I ll deliver at when he gets back.” - “Gone into the city, has he?” the other asked. “T didn’t say where he had gone.” “Don’t be cranky, boy. You see, I know all about my friend Ragsdale and his way of doing business. *I eome here to see his jockey-the slab-sided specimen called Tripp. ‘Tripp used to ride at the track for me, and I want to strike a bargain with him.” Z “Tripp isn’t here,” Sam replied. : The round-shouldered man was upon his feet by this time, and if Sam had been at all nervous he would have shivered under the savage glare of the ruffian’s eyes. : “This is my man-of-all-work, Mr. Cashin,” said the horsey man, with an affable show of introducing his companion, who certainly looked like a promising candidate for State’s prison, Whereat ‘‘Mr. Cashin” ducked his bullet head in acknowledgment and looked more ugly than before. “And I,” continued the speaker, still more affably, ‘am Mr, Bamford Brayles, of the Coney Island Jockey Club. I run horses at the tracks.” Sam was not so much impressed by this announcement as Mr. Bamford Brayles evi- deptly expected him to be. : The truth was, the boy divined before- hand that the stranger was a frequenter of the race-courses, and so much of his declar- ation therefore was no surprise to him. “And as for his being a member of the Coney Island Jockey Club,” Sam mentally observed, “I'll bet a cent that he owns just about as much stock in the Coney Island track asI do. But I won't let on that I see through his yarn. I can sée ‘that he wants to work me for some sort of agame on some- body, and I'll keep cool and see what he wants. There is some kind of crooked business going on, and when I find out which is the right side of the game, that’s the side where I’m going to tie up.” “The Coney Island is a great track,” said Sam aloud, in the way of a non-committal remark, : ‘Immense!’ was the enthusiastic re- sponse of Mr. Bamford Brayles. ‘Not so much like the short tracks they make up this way for trotting horses. Still, when a man places his money right, and has a jockey that knows his business, there may something in a handicap race even here. You said Tripp wasn’t here ?” ‘No, he isn’t here,” Sam replied. ‘Know where he’s gone ?” “1 don't know anything about him.” “All right--only I thought I would ask. | had something stimulating in the bargain. which they had left hidden beyond a clump And what might your name be? Seems to me I’ve seen you before, somewheres.” Sam could do no less than to give his name, although he refrained from mention- ing their chance meeting on the road that morning. Indeed, it was clear that Mr. Bamford Brayles was merely trying to make a good impression upon this trampish-looking youth whom he found in charge of “his friend Ragsdale’s” stable. : Upon one pretext and another the man tried to gain points concerning the present whereabouts of Mr. Ragsdale, and about the latter’s intentions in the race which was soon to open in that vicinity. But Sam really knew little about what the other wished to find out, and that knowl- edge he knew how to keep to himself. Brayles was suave ; Cashin was silent and forbidding. The latter was like a savage brute which Brayles, as his master, re- strained from devouring the boy by the power of his eye. “That ruffian would like to whale me for lighting on him the way I did,” thought Sam. ‘And when it comes right I believe Bamford Brayles will let him try it. Brayles is a deep one, and if I stand by Mr. Rags- dale then there is to be trouble betwixt Brayles and me.” The intruders remained about the stable a little more than half an hour, but kept a sharp lookout all the while for the return of Myr. Ragsdale.. Whatever their original in- tentions may have been, they took their de- parture without making any aggressive move, and Sam was relieved to see them walk down the road and get into a buggy of trees. tagsdale returned almost as soon as the companied by his hostler, who evidently had been to see a doctor, and, possibly, had Mr. Ragsdale appeared to be in anything but an amiable frame of mind, and Sam’s relation of what had transpired during the other’s absence did not improve the gentle- man’s spirits. “Sam!” he exclaimed, laying one hand impressively on the boy’s shoulder, ‘That man is the worst enemy I have in the world. You don’t know either of us ; and it would take too long now for me to tell you the whole story. Im going now to take one of my horses to the track, just for training. Tripp has run them for me every day since I have been here, and he was getting some good work out of them. Whatdo you say to working Jilly for me this afternoon ?” Sam could scarce conceal his eagerness to comply with this suggestion. In his heart he devoutly hoped that Tripp, the regular jockey, would remain away. “But,” he silently reflected, “he wouldn’t dare to risk letting me ride at the race with- out knowing more about me. Too much money at stake. But if I do well for him in practice it may recommend me as a jockey for somebody else. A fellow can’t expect to tumble into good luck the first throw,” Aloud he said: “Pll do the best I can, Mr. Ragsdale, if Tripp don’t come around this afternoon. But I guess he'll turn up again before long, and when he does I'll be one jockey too many.” To this remark Mr. Ragsdale vouchsafed no reply. Whenever Sam’s gaze was averted the gentleman scrutinized him keenly, as though he wished to study the youth’s face unobserved. The distance to the track was not great ; and Sam rode thither with Ragsdale in the sulky. The hostler followed with Jilly, the youngest and fleetest mare in the stable. This animal Sam had noticed particularly in her stall, and his eye told him that she was of no ordinary value. And now, as she was led along the road toward the track, he glanced back at her fre- quently. _ At the track were the usual scenes which transpire upon the days immediately pre- ceding the races. Jockeys, in ‘their caps of various hues, were plentiful enough; and owners of horse. flesh, and the sporting gentry in general, were talking and smoking in groups. Two or three jockeys were trying to make a start with horses that nobody in particular seemed to have an interest in. And there were a few gentlemen in silk hats who seemed to be thinking more of making equine pur- chases than of taking a direct part in the coming race, Neither Bamford Brayles nor his ruffianly companion were at the track ; and Sam was not a little relieved when Mr. Ragsdale told him to “work” Jilly around the track, just to see what she could do. Sam had good luck as well as skill in the soul at the track whom he knew, except his employer, therefore he felt no embarrass- ment. Sam rode well at the trial on the track ; and Jilly seemed to think that a heavy wager was pending on her speed. When Sam sprang from her back and turned the quivering animal over to the hostler, Mr. Ragsdale seized Sam by the shoulders and hurriedly drew him aside. “You worked her to. a charm!” he ex- claimed, when they were alone. “And if she does as well when the real work comes it will be all I will ask of Jilly. “But you must mind and not make them do better at the trial than they can follow at the race. She has been under the training of Tripp, and he knows how to handle her. If he only could work my bay colt—Wildfire, as { have named her—I would put both of them into the race. But-——” “What ails Wildfire?’ Sam asked, for he had said nothing to the other about his ex- perience with the “wild” horse, which has been detailed to the reader in the preceding chapter. “‘T have never yet seen but one man who could ride her.” “How is that?” : ‘She was broken to saddle by a wild young rascal who sold her to me. I’m no rider myself, and this fellow showed the colt off for my benefit at a great rate, and I thought I was getting the animal for a song. Well, that colt nearly broke Tripp's head for him the first time he tried to mount. To make a long story short—I have had three jockeys and trainers on Wildfire’s back, and every mother’s son of them was fired over the beast’s head before he had ridden her a furlong.” Sam could ill conceal his eagerness as he replied : , “IT was on Wildfire'’s back for half an hour to-day, while you left me at the stable, and she didn’t fire me over her head. She tried a few antics, but a “You rode that colt? And she didn’t throw you?” Ragsdale excitedly demanded. “Nary a throw,” said Sam. “Will you prove it tome by trying the experiment again to-night?” “T'll prove it, any time and any place.” “If you succeed in taming that animal for me,” said Mr. Ragsdale, earnestly, “I'll make it worth your while.” ‘ Half an hour later they returned to the stable, and Sam could not help a feeling of intense disappointment when Talway Tripp, the recreant jockey, emerged from one of the stalls and greeted Mr, Ragsdale with a sheepish grin. Sam did not stay to witness the “inter- view” which he felt confident was to ensue but started off for a stroll, He had barely left the stable out of sight vhen two men stepped forth from a road- side thicket and confronted him. They were Cashin and Mr. Bamford Brayles ! CHAPTER VY, THE PLOTTERS IN THE Woops, 2a f ) sn UST the chap we wanted to meet!” yl declared Mr, Bamford Brayles, laying 7} a detaining hand on the arm of our hero, ‘ _ flung off the familiar hand and drew ack, / ‘“‘Needn’t be particular about taking too close a view of me, just the same,” he re- plied. “Come, boy, don’t be cranky!” said Brayles, persuasively, ‘You were at the track this afternoon with one of my friend Ragsdale’s horses, and they tell me you os: her neat as could be. Wasn’t that so “You didn’t see me there?” tioned, a little surprised. “You were seen, and noticed. And you know how to ride at the track—so much I feel sure of. And jockeys of your heft are scarce as flies in January. And yet I'll go something big that Ragsdale hasn't engaged you to ride for him at the race!” _ “That's between Mr. Ragsdale and me,” Sam replied. “Of course. Lain’t wanting to pry into your arrangements with my friend Rags- dale, by any means. I merely wanted to put a flea in your ear, as it were. Ragsdale 1s a great hand to make contracts with people that he never intends to keep, except as faras it suits his convenience. That is something which it isn’t pleasant for me to say. But you are a boy, and I judge that you ve got your living to get. And I’m the sort of man that stands up for a boy that is ready to work his way in the world.” management of the filly. There was not a ‘Bamford Brayles had a most emotional Sam qnes- picious moisture in his eyes as he gave voice to these generous sentiments. J Perhaps Sam might have been more im- 7 pressed by the speech of the suave stranger © had he not at the same moment noted the © tigerish cunning and ferocity which per-— vaded the whole countenance of Cashin. 4 As it was, the boy did not for a moment a believe that Mr. Bamford Brayles was | speaking from any noble or unselfish mo- —~ tive. It was merely a question with Sam as to ~ what malignant and treacherous scheme the other was plotting against him or his em- 7 ployer. “Tf that’s all you’ve got to say to me, Mr. © Brayles, the sooner I march on, the better !” 7 said Sam. 4 And his eyes met those of the man with ~ a defiant flash. - Brayles saw the defiance and understood 4 of t. _ He shot a sudden look at the face of his — comrade ; and before Sam could follow the ~ glance to see its effect upon the other, — Cashin made a tiger-like spring toward the boy jockey. a Sam would have consulted his own safety — best at the moment had he taken to his © heels. But there was something in his blood that always impelled him to face an enemy, no matter how heavy the odds — might be against him. : So in the present case, where agility and— fleetness might have defeated the purposes of his assailant, he stubbornly faced the ~ ruffian, and met the attack of the latter with — a sturdy blow ‘‘straight from the shoulder.’ The blow, dealt by the arm of a boy though it was, gave Cashin another up pleasant surprise. The ruffian staggered © under it with a fierce growl like that of #— wild animal, and his prominent tevth gleamed like fangs. 7 Sam stood his ground, feeling no feat” there upon a public highway, where team of various sorts were frequently passing. — “Take care, Mr. Cashin,” said the drawl _ ing tones of Brayles. ‘‘You musn't let you temper carry you too far, so as to be harsh- with the boy. You know it isn’t my way | ever to be harsh.” “Ding the young scamp!” breathed Cashin, for the first time demonstrating tli fact that he possessed the power of speech Sam did not really think then that th ruffian’s sudden attack had been sanctione by Brayles. He believed that it was merely — an exhibition of the man’s ugly temper; — which seemed to be impressed upon his— every feature and motion. While Sam thus centered his gaze upo the ruffian, prepared to follow up his re sistance, should the other renew the attac Bamford Brayles had another opportunity to bestow a significant facial sign upoR” Cashin, at the same time adding, in_ bis — emotional draw] : 7 “If the young gentleman isn’t inclined t0 listen to our little plans, and to go in for — the chance to better his fortunes which W@— 9 a for us to try to thrash him into prosperitys— as it were !” a Brayles smiled as he spoke ; and to Sam 3~ surprise Cashin slunk away and walke i slouchingly down the road, with reluctat backward glances. He appeared for all thé world, Sam thought, like a fierce dog whose | master had called him off from his covete@- prey. a “A strange sort of man, but very faithiv to me!” Brayles confidentially remarked © | Sam. 4 “1 should say so,” said the latter. _ And I hope he won't leave you with any prejudice against me. I was really anxiowt to propose something to you that woul have been sure to put a pretty penny © your pocket. For that Ragsdale— but nevel mind! I must not presume to prejudice you. Timewill tell. Good-night !” oa Bamford Brayles backed away, leaviMe Sam standing alone, and not a little bew dered at what had passed. In another moment Sam heard the sount of wheels, and he saw Brayles and be human hound flitting down the quiet ro#™ in a buggy, and behind a horse that strue a lively pace. Evening was at hand. The sky was oa cast, and there was a feeling in the air th portended rain. sul It was too far from the city at that pol” for street lights, although there were 0 sional handsome residences and well-k grounds in the vicinity. ay Sam was alone, and the cool, damp bref b fanned his hot face. The encounter wit? Cashin had sent the blood bounding throve, his veins. And now that he remember that Tripp, Mr. Ragsdale’s regular jock had returned and would undoubtedly rev state himself in his employer’s favor bel voice, and there was something like a sus- the races, which would open the day afte were about to proffer him, it isn’t propel Soe eos) eee a tel it ie cae ef well ot. By vid ford ety dale’ 6T ‘A F ey of m. the r In so Jocke ay Since Said | “ey Plan tinne coy ev that consi feat PRS | ich We proper | peritys Pe kee Pe Well as anybody whether I am or not.”’ GOooDpD NEWS. Sail to-morrow, Sam experienced a feeling of vague resentment and bitterness against a fate that seemed bent upon coming between him and the fulfillment of his ambitions. This mood was quickly followed, however, by another impulse. He started off down the road in the wake of the retreating vehicle, an ambitious determination causing | him to walk very fast. “The way to winis to work!” he ex- claimed, half aloud. ‘Ragsdale and nobody else don’t want to hire a chap that isn’t val- uable to’em. He would ship ‘Tripp in a minute if he felt sure I could take his place. [ must show kim that I’ve got the stuff in me that he wants to buy.” Sam kept on for some time, and found himself mechanically following the wheel- tracks of Bamford Brayles’ buggy. Presently he found that the vehicle had turned from the highway into a narrow track that seemed to lead into the depths of a woodland tract. Sam hesitated only a moment. “T'll find where that pair puts up,” he re- solved. He had proceeded along the wood road but little more than a quarter of a mile be- fore he suddenly found himself near a large barn, with trees standing all about it. And just beyond, upon the opposite side of the road, he perceived a small unpainted house, with a light gleaming dimly from a window. The wheel-tracks turned in at the barn, the large door of which stood ajar, letting out another gleam of light, for here it had grown quite dark, so dense were the shadows from thick-foliaged trees. o From within the barn came the sound of voices. = Sam crept up toa small square window and peered cautiously in. Bamntord Brayles and Cashin were each seated upon a barrel, turned bottom-up, and near them stood athird man who bore a strong resemblance to Cashin, except that he must have been several years the latter's junior. “We have palavered about this business as long as we can afford to,” Brayles was saying, with an impatient gesture. ‘‘Rags- dale has put every penny he ean raise or borrow into the chances of the race day after to-morrow. If he wins I lose; but against that, if he loses I'm sure to win in more ways than one. I want to ruin Rags- dale-—no matter why—and for help that will bring about that result ['m willing to pay well. Now, Burton, if your plan is as sure as you say, give us the details, then go in and win the reward.” Sam Talbot, holding his breath in the in- tensity of his interest, pressed his face yet closer to the opening, that he might not lose a single syllable of Burton’s reply. CHAPTER VI. THE PLOT AGAINST SAM’S EMPLOYER. HERE’S ways enough to beat a man 4 >? ata race, if ye’re only middlin’ sharp, & PS), and have got the nerve to kerry any- ~ thing through,” declared the man called Burton, peering down into the face of Bamford Brayles with a cunning leer, Sam Talbot, at his post of observation, - strained his ears to catch every word uttered by the men in the barn. That he was on the point of gaining the salient items of a vile plot to ruin Mr. Rags- dale he was now certain. In his eagerness not to lose a syllable he forgot that there might be a strong element of danger to himself in thus placing himself on the side of aman who had such bitter and unscrupulous enemies. “Well,” drawled Brayles, “I think I have the nerve for anything that you may pro- pose, and as for being ‘middlin’ sharp,’ I rather think you're in a position to judge as Burton shrugged his shoulders. It was evident that he did know whether Bam- ford Brayles was sharp or not. “Ye say ye tried to buy u dale’s jockey ?”’ Burton asked. ‘TI tried—yes,” Brayles replied. “And he didn’t buy easy?” “He didn’t buy easy,” was the echo. “Well, of course, there are only two ways of making sure that Ragsdale’s hosses lose the race. One way is to cripple the hosses Tripp, Rags- _ in some way ; t’other is to buy up or fix the jockey that is to ride for him,” “Nothing so very bright about that scheme, Since I knew it before you proposed it,” ‘Said Brayles. ‘What you're after is somebody with a Plan for carrying out the scheme,” con- inned Burton, with his sly leer. ‘That is what I'm after.” “Well, I said I had a plan, and I'll say that I'll see to carryin’ of it through for a Consideration. To make matters doubly sartin, I say, cripple the hosses and the jockey too !” ‘(That is well ; but how ?” ‘‘Accordin’ to your tale, Tripp, the jockey, likes some kinds of drink better than he does any kind of food ?” **‘A good deal better.” ‘‘Then he can be dosed.” | ‘‘Easy enough, But Ragsdale doesn’t put | all his dependence on Talway Tripp. He is hable to get into such shape that he couldn’t ride at the race, without any dosing. So our friend has just hired another young fellow, and to-day the new one—a mere | boy-—worked Ragsdale’s Jilly around the track for practice. And when it comes to dosing two jockeys, there is too much risk and uncertainty.” Sam, hearing this, pressed his face closer to the opening and silently shook his fist at Bamford Brayles, as a mute sign of defiance. “Can't ye buy the new one?” Burton sug- gested, *T haven't fairly tried. But we felt of him a little to-day, and found him a good deal like a bag of gunpowder. And our friend Cashin, here, tried scaring him, and gota pretty sharp clip from the youngster’s fist for it. But, being only a boy, of course I don’t mean to let him stand between me and what I want to do. I was merely seeing how much of a scheme you hadin your head, and if it was worth any more than the one I had mapped out in my own.” “Perhaps the youngster would come to his senses if he was given his choice betwixt money and a broken head !” leered Burton, with a’sidelong slouch. ‘Not much doubt of it,” Brayles answered. “Then why not try that as our first move ?” “Tm willing. But we must move lively, and we mustn’t make a bungle of it. Ihave been balked in this business at every point so far, chiefly because I tried to beat Rags- dale without laying myself liable in a legal way. He is afraid of me as long as I keep within the law, because I have a hold on him. But let him once find that I plotted anything criminal, and he would come down on me like a thousand of brick. I must now do something pretty strong, however, or he will win in spite of me. First, can you manage the dosing of the horses and of Talway Tripp?” ~ Brayles had descended from the inverted barrel and faced Burton with a flushed, ani- mated face. Cashin also got upon his feet and showed his teeth in his fiercest manner. “T can manage the jockey,” said Burton. ‘‘But as for the hosses- ——” “Manage the jockey, then. Ill find a way to fix the horses—the ones he is to en- ter for the race, at least. Now for the young- ster— he is your meat, Cashin.” The latter, like the fierce animal he so strongly resembled, brought his teeth to- gether with a click. Sam Talbot, the boy jockey, had heard enough. With thrilling nerves he turned away from the barn window and stole silently out to- ward the wood road. Evening had fallen swiftly in the woods. Sam dared not strike a running pace while he was so close to his enemies. He walked with long, cautious strides, glancing frequently backward at the glim- mering lights in the house and barn. Suddenly the rumble of wheels sounded just ahead of him, and he realized that a ve- hicle of some sort was approaching the lonely dwelling. He turned hastily in among the denser shadows by the roadside, hoping that he might thus escape observation. As he did so, however, he saw a dark ob- ject bound along the narrow road and halt abruptly opposite his hiding-place. At the same moment the long, doleful bay of a hound quavered upon the air, and the animal which had paused to sniff at the tracks of the intruder, wheeled suddenly and leaped toward Sam’s concealment. All these details occurred much more rap- idly than we have been able to relate them. Sam knew that discovery was inevitable. He had not a doubt but the driver of the approaching team, which was accompanied by the hound, was friendly to the occupants of the lonely house. Sam’s first impulse was to escape from the teeth of the hound. To that end he did some lively climbing up the nearest tree, which chanced to be a maple sapling. He barely got his legs out of reach of the dog as the latter leaped upward at the foot of the tree. He paused, breathless, upon one of the lowest branchts just as the team stopped. And an instant after he saw a man alight and approach the dog, swinging a lantern to and fro as he came. “T an’t caught till I come down,” thought Sam. And with this thought he began to climb higher among the thick-foliaged branches, ‘Hey, there, Snipe |!’ exclaimed the man, as he reached the foot of the tree where the hound was still dolefully signaling. ‘What ye treed? Nothin’ but a chipmunk, Pll war- rant !” The man squinted up into the branches, still swinging his lantern. Then Sam saw him take something from his pocket and hold it close to the hght. The object was a small pocket mirror, and the.rays from the lantern were reflected full upon the figure crouching amid the foliage. Sam strove to avoid the search-light, but in vain. **T see ye,” said the man, coolly pocketing the glass. ‘‘Better come down,” he added, ‘whoever | ye be! I wont let Snipe chaw ye unless ye try to be too nimble. Come, get a move on ye 7? ‘Suppose [ rather roost up here?” Sam retorted, realizing that he was fairly discoy- ered, and that it were useless to pretend otherwise. “I tell ye to come down, and lively about it. Ian’t foolin’, as ye'll find out if ye try to be too funny !” Had it been merely a matter of his per- sonal safety, Sam would not have hesitated | But he thought of the | about surrendering. consequences to Ragsdale if he were to fail to warn him of the plot to ruin him. And this thought made him resolve to escape if possible. So, instead of speaking or making a move toward descending, he began to clamber out upon one of the larger branches, with the purpose of getting into another tree which grew close to that one. “Hold on, youngster!” commanded the one below. And Sam was thrilled by the sound of an ominous click. Glancing down he saw that the man was menacing him with a revolver! Sam set his teeth with mute determina- tion. With sudden agility he swung his weight from the bough that supported him, and clambered nimbly into the tree adjoin- ing. The sharp report of the revolver rang on the air, followed by a triumphant howl from the hound ! (T0 BE CONTINUED.) 8 we THE COLONEL’S RUNAWAY. BY GEORGE W. BROWNE. —— @ — 6--o____— [This Story will not be Published in Book-Form.] TOM TROXTON'S SCHOCLDAYS; Ry . BUN AND MYSTERY AT PICKLE ACADEMY BY HARVEY HICKS, Author of “Mat Merriman Abroad,” ete. (“Tom TRUXTON’S SCHOOLDAYS” was commenced in No. 203. Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents. ] CHAPTER XXXIV. IN THE TUNNEL, HEN Nicholas Flint saw Tom fall /> back, he dropped the still smoking pistol, and involuntarily started for the door of the little cell. “Have I killed him?” he whispered to himself. His pallid lips were scarce able to form the words, so agitated was he, but a second later a groan came from the corner where ‘Tom had fallen, and the sound put new life - into the cowardly villain’s heart. At the same instant, Barney struggled to his feet and stared about him with many a ‘piteous groan. ~ He saw Tom lying near by, and the sight - eaused him to laugh huskily. “Have you done him up?” he asked. ; “J don’t think so,” replied Mr. Flint, wiping his forehead with trembling hands. “T_J—sghot the boy because he attacked me, but he must be only wounded.” “Tt’s a blamed pity you didn’t finish the job,” growled Barney, bending over our his skull, and he'll come “You just grazed Hadn’t we better finish to in a minute. him, boss ?” “No!” exclaimed Nicholas, fiercely. “Pick the boy up, and bring him to the passage. Well, I'll be blowed if he isn’t getting tender-hearted,” contemptuously muttered Barney, below his breath. He obeyed orders, however, and dragged - Tom out into the next room. - Cyrus and Kane had already brought Walton Graves from his cell, and he now stood both gagged and bound in the mid- dle of the little apartment. - Just as Nicholas appeared with Barney and his burden, a loud crash sounded over- head. : “Quick ! open the trap !” almost screamed Mr. Flint. ‘Those dogs have broken in the front door, and they will be down here before we can escape,” | dragged ‘Tom and Graves through the Barney dropped Tom’s still inanimate form, aud ran over to the corner directly beneath the cellar stairs. Feeling around in the darkness, he pres- ently ‘touched a wheel, and began working it from side to side. ; : Those standing near heard a grating noise as of cog against cog, and then a circular hole suddenly yawned before them in the floor of the cellar. “Down with you!” exclaimed Nicholas. | «Put the prisoners in first, and then follow. Make haste—I hear them in the hall.” Cyrus and Kane passed Graves through the opening, and then Barney dropped Tom after him. All four immediately followed, and Nich- olas— who was last—was just in the act of closing the masked trap-door when Barney whispered : “Hold up there, boss; I’ve forgotten somebody.” “What is the matter now, man? What do you mean?” demanded Mr. Flint, irri- tably. “My dog is up there, and I’m not going to leave him to them fellers.” ; “Confound your dog! Do you think I will allow you to risk our safety for a brute of a dog?” “Can't help that,” replied Barney, sul- lenly. ‘“He’s stood by me, and I’m not going to give him the shake.” Before Mr. Flint could stop him, the fel- low reopened the trap, and dragged the bull-dog into the passage. ‘Now that [ have got him, I'll tell you that it’s a good job he’s here,” growled Bar- ney, closing the entrance once more. ‘‘If he had been lett up there he would give us away for a dead certainty.” ‘‘How do you mean?” “Why, he would have whined and seratched around the door until them fel- lers would have tumbled; see?” Nicholas saw that Barney was right in the matter, and said no more. Where the little party now stood was a narrow tunnel-shaped passage leading toward the back of the grounds in which the stone house was situated. It had evidently been dug out of the soft earth, and was “shored” up here and there by short timbers which crossed the passage so that it was impossible for more than one person to pass at a time. : After listening a moment under the en- trance, Mr. Flint ordered his companions to move on ahead with the prisoners. “You have a wider space not far from here, haven’t you?” he asked Barney. “Yes; a sort of chamber which used to be a cistern before this tunnel was built.” “Well, we'll go there and wait awhile.” Slowly, and with infinite trouble, they as- sage, and finally reached the place described by Barney. It was quite a commodious apartment, and was amply large enough to accommo: date all of them without overcrowding. ‘Wait here and keep silent,” said Nicho- las, after several moments had passed; ‘I am going back to see if I can hear anything of them.” He disappeared down the tunnel, leaving the two men and Kane standing in the dark noisome cistern listening anxiously for signs of their discovery. Presently Barney moved over next to Cyrus, and whispered hoarsely: _ ‘D’ye know, I believe the master is funk- g. “Why, what do you mean?” asked Holt, curiously. b ‘‘He could have slit that kid’s weasand a dozen times, and he hasn’t done it. , Why, = speed me twice when I was ready to do it. _ “Between you and me,” replied Cyrus, sinking his voice so that it was barely’ dis- cernible, “Nicholas Flint is trying to play a double game. He is a miserable coward and is afraid of.-his own shadow. I believe he would kill the boy if he thought there was no possible chance of the crime being brought home to him but—— What's that noise ?” : A slight sound like the scraping of feet against the cemented floor of the cistern came to their ears. The bull-dog growled, and moved away from his master’s side for a moment, then returned, whimpering. “Someboby has passed through this place, breathed Barney, straining his eyes in an unavailing attempt to pierce the in- tense darkness, ‘Do you think it was—-~” Cyrus hesitated, but his companion supplied the missing hame with startling distinctness. “Nicholas Flint! that’s who it was!” ex- claimed the ruffian, “He’s sneaking by, and is going to give us the shake,” “You are not certain,” replied Holt, ner- vously. ‘Wait a moment, and I’ll see if he is under the cellar yet.” He slipped away, and was back in a mo- ment, breathing hoarsely with excitement. ‘You were right,” he exclaimed, ‘The eur has left us in the lurch. He heard something back there to scare him, and he thought we would endanger his own safety if we skipped at the same time.” “But what do you suppose he heard ?” “Why, they are tapping on the trap-door in the cellar, and I think they must know we are here.” Barney started uneasily, and said: “Tf that’s the case, we had better go also. It’s a good job I had this tunnel dug to take crazy people out and in without the officers knowing it, as it gives us a chance to escape from a mighty bad fix. Come along.” Kane, who had remained silent until now, spoke up, and asked what they intended to do with the prisoners. “That’s a fact; I had clean forgotten them,” replied Barney. ‘‘We'll settle their hash just for luck and then skip.” He felt for his knife as he spoke, but be- fore he could find the murderous weapon, the bull-dog growled and darted up the pas- sage toward the cellar entrance. It was an alarm not to be disregarded. Without stopping to execute his purpose, Barney turned and fled down the tunnel closely followed by his companions, CHAPTER XXXV. FREEDOM, EVERAL minutes after they had dis- appeared Tom groaned slightly, and tried to sit erect. He soon discovered that he was tied, and gave up the attempt. “Oh, my head!” he moaned, almost frantic with pain. ‘What has happened, I wonder? Where am I?” Suddenly he heard a peculiar noise almost at his elbow, and his hair stood on end in momentary fear. : “What in the duse—— There it goes again !’ Tom cried, then he called out ; “Who is it?” Again the strange sound came to his ears but this time slightly louder, and then he felt something touch his body. it was a queer situation truly, and Tom will be pardoned for feeling a certain degree of terror. He was lying bound hand and foot in an unknown place with an odor like a tomb: he had heard uncanny noises which he could not understand, and, to cap the climax something was edging close to him at the present moment. Tom stood it as long as he could,and then gave a yell which sent back a thousand echoes. To his surprise and unbounded joy an answering cry came to his ears as if from a long distance, and then a light glimmered in the obscurity toward the left. The sight inspired him to call again, and this time he heard a voice asking in familiar tones: “Tom! Tom Truxton ! It is 1—Chester Gage !” Our hero did not hesitate in making known his whereabouts. He shouted direc. tion after direction, until at last’ his chum came dashing into the cistern, followed by Murphy and several men. fe It is unnecessary to describe the meeting Lap Naren _ two friends. | om’s bonds were cast off, and | Chester shook his hand until our hero sat fain to beg for a rest, By the light of the lantern which Chester carried, Tom Saw aman tied hand and foot alongside of him, and he recognized him at a ce ‘It is the. mysterious stranger who met in New York,” he Seeloiif ed “The person we received that letter from, Quick Chester, remove the ropes.” : _ But Murphy was just in the act of attend- ing to that operation himself, and presently Walton Graves stood up, a free man, “At last,” he muttered, hoarsely, looking from one to the other ; “at last I'am out of that villain’s clutches. But where. is he? where has Nicholas Flint gone ?” “Tam anxious to know that myself, sir,” replied Tom, staring around at the queer ee ; ee he asked Gage : “What is this place, ¢ is i the tenon house oP sepa ee Chester explained in a few word ee hes suggestion that Mr. Flint and his party had escaped throug portion of the tunnel. : . oe “After them, then,” shouted Graves ey “Don’t give the scoundrels any He seized the lantern from Chester's hand, A \ where are you? and hobbled down the passage as fast as his cramped limbs would permit. : Murphy followed close at his heels, while Tom and his chum made up the rear. : Just as they started, a dog dashed past them, and vanished in the distance. “What in the duse was that?” asked our hero, startled. Gage laughed, and replied : “Tt’s a bull-dog, and you can thank your lucky stars that he was in this tunnel. Ifit hadn’t been for him the chances are wé would have never found you.” Tom shuddered at the bare possibility, and asked his chum to explain. Gage first told him all that had occurred up to the time when Murphy and he had found the blood spot in the cell, and then added: ‘‘When I saw that, old boy, I almost gave. you up as lost, but not being willing to leave without exhausting every chance of finding you, Murphy and I searched the floor foot by foot for a trap door. Just as we reached that part under the cellar stairs we heard the bark of a dog from directly beneath our feet. That settled it. We were ten minutes findin the door, but it was discovered at last, and here we are.” “And if it had not been for your brave and unselfish nature, Chester, I would now be the victim of Nicholas Flint’s greed,” re- plied Tom, feelingly. ; _ “It’s tit for tat, old boy ; you risked your life to save mine on that railroad bridge, and now I repay you, so keep quiet.” Thegvords were uttered in a joking man- ner, but Tom understood him, and in that moment was cemented a friendship which lasted through many years, and amid strange adventures in foreign climes. While walking through the tunnel Tom explained how he had been wounded, and also told of his various adventures since his novel departure from the fair grounds, then added: “The very fact of my falling upon the house we were looking for is the strangest part of the whole affair. Just to think of my stumbling across the writer of that letter in this fashion.” “Has he told you anything yet?” “No; and I don’t think he will until wé catch Nicholas Flint.” ‘Woe betide your guardian when he gets him in his clutches.” Before Tom could reply, a shout came from in front. ‘‘They have found something,” exclaimed Gage, darting forward. Tom followed at his heels, and after ruD- ning several hundred feet they saw daylight ahead. Suddenly the tunnel sloped upward abruptly, and they were soon in the ope air, but not on level ground. One glance showed Tom that the el trance to the passage had been cunninglY constructed in an abandoned gravel pit, 2 the center of which they were now standing: Tom and Chester had hardly emerg from the passage when they heard an eX ultant shout almost directly overhead. “At last you are at my mercy, you villain After months of untold suffering at yo hands, I have a chance for revenge.” a Hastily looking up at the edge of the pis th # they saw Walton Graves struggling wi man whom they well knew. It was Nicholas Flint. Even as they gazed the combatants swayed too and fro perilously near the brink, aD then, just as ‘Tom was on the point of s ing to the stranger’s assistance, the tw men stumbled and fell headlong down inte the cavity below. ; (TO BE CONTINUED.) —_———>- 0 A CHANGE OF SCENE. nothing on earth more important @ self-sufficient in his knowledge than 4 sergeant in the German army, They wil} give exact and perfect orders to the me? yut their modes of expression are som sities inimitable. And then he tells thé story; Not long ago there was a total eclip of the sun, and the officer in charge 0 certain regiment wanted to explain it t his men. He sent for his sergeants, @ said to them: “There will be an eclipse of the sun 60 morrow. The regiment will be drawn UP on the parade ground, if the day is fine If it should be cloudy, the men will meé me in the drill-shed as usual.” The sergeants drew up this order: To-morrow morning, by order of colonel, there will ‘be an eclipse of sun. The regiment will assemble on parade ground, when the colonel wil spect the eclipse. If the day is cloudy thé eclipse will take place in the drill-shede ey A German officer says that there is | 1 ine GOooDp NEWS. 3413 {This Story will not be Published in Book-Form,] | Joe the Surveyor; THE VALUE OF Z LOST CLAIM. _—o BY EDWARD STRATEMEYER, Author of “Shorthand Tom,’ ‘*Camera Bob,’ elc., ete. ("JOE THE SURVEYOR” was commenced in No 209. Buck numbers can be obtained of all News Ageuts., } CHAPTER XVI. MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE, A XOY47 HEN Ralph Lumley left the y WA llurley cottage in search of the = Yy man who had robbed him, his . -o) mind was filled with strange _ thoughts concerning Doc Olney and Sam > Ridd. -He felt certain of one thing, and that was that the two ruffians had been fol- loving him up for over a week with their evil designs fully prepared. He had met them in [ronton, on the road, where Joe came so gallantly to his rescue, and now this was the ending of the game. ~ “Those two men are acting for some- body else, that’s certain.” was the thought which crossed his mind. “They did not want that case and its contents for them- _ selves. Now, who can they be in league with?” _ This was a question not so easily an- _ Swered, although Ralph Lumley had his _ suspicions. : It was-still dark outside, and raining eavily, ‘The sarveyor paused for a mo- nent ontheroad. Had the two men gone up or down? “They may be a good way from here by his time,” he reasoned. “But I must take my chances on that.” __ He took the road that led away from - Mountainville, and passed on for all of a mile. He saw nothing of Doc Olney and Ridd, nor did he meet a soul who might have given him information, At last, somewhat disheartened, turned back toward the town, __ It wasthen that he noticed a strange _ light flaring up into the sky. He watched - it for a few minutes with interest. “Unless Iam greatly mistaken, that’s a fire,” he said to himself, “And it can’t _ be far from Mountainville.” The light soon after died out, and he gave it no more attention. Presently Ralph Lumley heard the ounds of a wagon’s wheels on the road, and an old farmer on a buckboard drove into sight. The surveyor hailed him. “What’s wanted, stranger?” called out he old man, as he halted. ; “Have you seen anything of two men, Strangers, around here?” “Haven’t seen no strangers, ‘ceptin’ you.” “All right. Thanks.” “Been up to the fire in Mountainville.” “What was it?” “Amos Bemis’ store. That young rascal of a Joe Hurley set it on fire.” Ralph Lumley started. “Joe Hurley, did you say?” “1 did, stranger. I don’t know nuthin’ about it, but Bemis declares Joe Hurley did it.” ; “Ts the fire out?” “Oh, yes; an’ Joe Hurley’s in jail!” “What does he say?” “Says he had nothin’ to do with it.” “And I imagine he tells the truth. Do you want to earn half a dollar?” “ How 2?” “Take me into Mountainville on your buckboard., I am tired of walking.” _ As it had now stopped raining, the old farmer quickly agreed to do the job, and in a minute Ralph Lumley was seated beside him and they were on the way. The surveyor reached the jail just_as Constable Hicks was about to leave Joe ocked up, and inform the Hurley house- old of what had occurred. “Well, Joe, what’s all this?” asked the Surveyor, as he strode into the carpenter- he op. I “Oh, Mr, Lumley, I’m glad you came! was just going to send for you.” Pa is a bad business. Tell me about »” _“T have very little to say about the re,” responded the boy. “But I’ve got Something else to tell you.” - And in a whisper, so that Hicks might not hear, he told of his adventure in the ully. Ralph Hurley listened with keen inter- est to every word. When Joe had finished his face grew pale. : ‘ “T think I understand the matter now, he said. “I will tell you something ater.” “But you will try to catch the men?” Questioned Joe, A “T have been trying to catch them.” And Ralph Lumley related what had occurred at the cottage. “And they got your case?” Ralph Lumley nodded. Then he mo- tioned toward Hicks, and indicated that he wished Jce to- remain sileit for the present. Joe was much perplexed, but he heeded the warning, and the surveyor changed and saying: “See here, Hicks, don’t you think you did wrong to arrest Joe?” “Amos Bemis makes a charge against him,” returned the constable. “Yes, but what has he to substantiate that charge?” “T don’t know.” “Where does this Bemis live?” “Right across the lots from here, in the old brown house with the whitewashed fence.” “I’}l go and see him. lock Joe up.” “Reckon you'll find Amos at his store yet.” ms All right. I’ll be back long.” - Then he added in a whisper: . ‘“Don’t worry if I’m not. I may go on a hunt for those two men again.” A moment later and Ralph Lumley was gone, The surveyor knew Bemis’ store very well, and it took him but a few minutes to reach the place. All was dark in front, and the curtains were tightly drawn, for the stationer never left them up during the night. Ralph Lumley walked to the rear of the store. Here he found the burnt-out win- dow boarded up, but there were several larye cracks, from which the light of a lantern streamed. ; He applied his eye to one of the cracks. and saw Amos Bemis kneeling in front of the old safe. “Gone!” he heard the stationer groan. “Gone, true enough. Can it be possible that that boy has discovered my secret?” It’s a shame to Joe. betore his feet, and slam shut the safe door and turn the combination knob. The next moment Amos Bemis appeared at the rear door. He started back in con- fusion when Ralph Lumley confronted im. “What—where did you come from?” he stammered. “I just came from the carpenter-shop that is used for a jail,” was the reply. “I want to know, Mr. Bemis, what makes ated think Joe Hurley set your store on fire?” The stationer took an unusually long time to reply. He seemed to be thinking of what best to say. “Because he was seen around here when the fire broke out,” he returned, slowly. “Ts that all?” “An’t that enough?” “No. Your store is on the main street of Mountainville, and he has a perfect right to be on that street without coming under suspicion on account of it.” “The boy is down on me.” “Excuse me, but I fancy the boot is on the other leg,” observed the surveyor, What do you mean, sir!” blustered Amos Bemis. “T mean to say that you are down on the boy.” “No more than [ ought to be.” “There is where we do not agree. He has never harmed you, while you are causing him no end of trouble. Now, I am that. bey’s friend, and I propose to stand by him.” “Don’t talk rot to me!” growled the stationer, but the statement that Ralph Lumley intended to aid Joe appeared to worry him more than he cared to show, “Tt is not rot. You have no right to bring a charge against him, unles there is some real reason for it. Unless you withdraw the charge, I will bring a counter-charge against you.” “Against me?” “FY en.” “What for?” because he won’t work for you at reduced wages. He has told me his whole story, and I know something of how you tried to keep him under your thumb.” “Tt an’t so.” “Well, we'll see, unless you withdraw this present charge.” “took here,” blustered Amos Bemis, who actually seemed to fear the turn affairs had taken. “I an’t going to have my fair name dragged into the dirt before Mountainville people. I suffered enough already through this fire, and the broken windows, and such.” “Then tell Hicks to let Joe go. You know well enough he won’t run away, because he is already under bail for that other charge you made against him.” “Well, what do you want?” “T want you to tell Hicks to let him off till Judge Ullman gets back.” ! Amos Bemis appeared to meditate deep- ‘jy for a minute, Then he locked the back the subject by turning to the constable, | ; The surveyor saw the stationer arise to | “Conspiring to ruin the boy’s character door of the store, and placed the key in his pocket. “T’ll see Joe, and haveatalk with him,” he said. “And I want to see him alone.” CHAPTER XVII. JOE AGAIN AT LIBERTY. , versation Amos Bemis appeared at the carpenter-shop. Ralph Lumley co had followed him, but again the stationer declared that he wished to see Joe in private. So the surveyor remained below, while Amos Bemis tramped up the stairs to the tool-room which was used for a cell. Hicks sat. on a bench talking to Joe when the stationer entered, but soon left after being given a hint to do so. “Now see here, Joe, I want to settle this matter,” began Amos Bemis, and the boy noticed that he paused to wipe the heavy perspiration from his brow, “That’s just what I wish .o do.” said Joe. * “T don’t want tobe bard on you, but I want ee went on the stationer. ell¢g- “You an’t done just the proper thing with me, Joe—an’t treated me as you ought to.” “T have not done you any injury that I know of, Mr. Bemis.” “Yes, you have; but——” “But what?” “Maybe you thought you had a right to do what you did,” whispered the stationer, as her stepped closer. “Am I right, Joe?” See ; Fe version a after the above con- “Why, of course I had a right to do as} I did,” replied the boy, somewhat per- plexed by the other’s manner. “But you don’t understand me—least- ae don’t or won’t let on that you do, Joe, “Don’t talk in riddles, Mr. Bemis.” “It an’t no riddle, Joe. I've found you out—l know you opened the safe.” As Amos Bemis svoke, he glared search- ingly into the face hefore him, as if to read Joe’s inmost thoughts, “You discovered that I opened your safe?” repeated Joe. The stationer nodded. “Well, you are greatly mistaken, for I did nothing of the kind.” “No; I was not inside of your store to- night.” Anios Bemis walked upand down nervy- ously for several minutes. Joe could see that he was doing some deep thinking. “Joe, if you will tell me all you know, I’ll try to explain some matters to you.” “What I know about what?” “The—you know well enough.” “No, I don’t.” “Do you mean to stick to the statement that you haven’t been watching me, and that you didn’t taka anything from the safe?” “T certainly didn’t steal anything be- longing to you,” returned the boy, indig- nantly. This quick reply, to which Joe had hardly given consideration, had a curious effect on Amos Bemis, He grew pale and trembled slightly. “Nothing belonging to me, eh? Then you are sure it belongs to yo: , is that it?” Joe noted the change in the man’s manner. He was completely bewildered, but he was shrewd enough to see that Amos Bemis was aiming at a certain ob- ject. f He hardly knew what to say. He wished to draw out his former employer, if possible. “Then you say, Mr. had something in the me?” he ventured. On the instant the fiercely. “No, I didn’t say so, and it an’t so,” he cried. “I can prove that I didn’t——” He broke off short. “Joe, you're making a big mistake, and going through my safe an’t going to help you any.” “What can you prove, Mr. Bemis?” questioned the boy, not knowing what else to say. “Never mind that,” howled the station- er. “See here, Joe, I’ll make you an offer. Give me back that pocket-book you took, and I won’t say a word about this fire—won’t press no charge against you— not even for going through the safe,” “T haven’t got the pocket-book.” “You have.” “T have not—never saw it.” Amos Bemis took a deep breath.’ Then he came even closer than before. “See here, boy,” he fairly hissed. “You nwist remember one thing—you can’t prove that what you took from the safe was there. So you can’t do me any harm. Now, if you’ll promise to keep quiet about that matter, I’ll let the case against you drop.” ; “You'll drop everything?” “Yes, even the pocket-book matter.” “If you’ll do that, I won’t say anything about your safe, what’s in it or what came out of it,” replied Joe, striving his best to"make a deal in the dark, Remis, that you safe belonging to man faced him ee Bemis’ face took on a look of re-’ ief, “You won’t go to any lawyer?” “T won’t go to any lawyer.” “Of course, your folks will talk over matters, but I don’t want any publicity, understand ?” “Yes, l understand, Mr. Bemis.” “Remember, you can’t prove anything, Joe, not a word, for my word is as good as yours.” “T suppose it is.” At this juncture Hicks came up into the cell, and cut short what promised to be a deeply interesting conversation. “I would like to know if I’m to stay here all night?” questioned the constable. “No, Hicks.” replied Amos Bemis, and he added: “i—I have fixed up matters with Joe, and you can let him go.” “What?” “Yes. I—I—I will pay you for your trouble, and we will not mention the affair again.” Hicks stared at the stationer as if he doubted strongly that he heard aright. “T’m to let the boy go?” he asked, slowly. ; “Yes, bail.” “Yes, but——” “T don’t want to be hard on him. He'll be in court all right, so he says, and ee feel better in bed at home than ere.” “Well, I'll be jiggered !” That was all Hicks said, but a good deal. Not long after this Joe was on his war to the cottage, accompanied by Ralph Lumley, who all this while had been waiting below for him. “Tt’s of no use to try to track those two robbers to-night,” said the surveyor. “They have probably gone off to Ironton or some other railroad station.” It did not take the two long to reach the cottage. Meg was on the watch, and was overjoyed to Jearn that Joe was safe. All proceeded to Mr. Hurley’s bedroom, where the sick man was now resting comfortably. Every one had to tell his story, and Meg told hers as well, The way Amos Bemis had treated Joe was a puzzle to all, and though they speculated on it for some time, nothing came of it. “IT must pump him ina roundabout way when I get the chance,” said the boy. “It is some valuable secret. If it wasn’t he would never have consented to let me off as he did.” “{ imagine you are right,” said Mr. Hurley. “But I can’t make it out.” The conversation then turned upon Ralph Lumley’s loss and what he pro- posed to do about it. “Luckily the robbers did not get much of great value—that is, to them,” said the surveyor. “The case contained only some old journals, pertaining to some surveys made in this vicinity years ago, and some items concerning some oil wells I am interested in. But why they should be following me up is as great a puzzle to me as this Bemis affair is to you.” “Perhaps in surveying we may run across them again,” said Joe, “If we dol hope we will be able to bring them to justice, not only for my sake, but also for yours.” 2 lt was almost morning before they re- tired. Joe was utterly worn out, and did not wake up until nearly noon. His. hands and wrists were still sore, and Meg bathed them for him and bound his left hand up. A heavy rain had sef in and it was not until two days later that Joe and Ralph Lumley again went to work. During that time Joe went to see Amos © Bemis, but on arriving at the store learned that the stationer had left the business in charge of his brother from Ironton, and gone to Philadelphia, You know he is already under it meant CHAPTER XVIII. AN ENCOUNTER IN THE WOODS. RING out the chain, Joe, and we'll go over that line again,” ade It was Ralph Lumley who spoke. He and Joe were high up on the top of Knob Mountain, surveying a line which passed over half a dozen big rocks. “Isn’t it right, Mr. Lumley?” asked Joe, as he got out the surveyor’s chain. “I want to prove the survey, that’s all,” was the response. “We can do that, — you know, by working backward, That — ast angle was a sticker, owing to the Pee I fancy it will prove up ail Joe passed one end of the chaintohis employer, and walked off with the other. | His sore wrists were almost well, and | the rough treatment he had received at — the hands of Sam Ridd and Olney was fast fading out of his mind, so engrossed was he in his new occupation. a Joe took to the profession «sa duck takes to water. Indeed, Ralph Lumley had declared that he already knew more ee it than Gus Bink had learned ina monta, S414 “By the way,” said Joe, after he had called out halt a dozen measurements to bis employer. “I saw Bink at the tavern door this morning.” a “T thought he had left, since 1 had set- tled with him,” replied Ralph Lumley. “I wonder what he expects to do here? “T’m sure 1 don’t know.” : “Did he speak to you?” ; “No, he simply scowled at me and then went inside. I suppose he would like to chew me up,” and Joe laughed. “Don’t be afraid of him. He is at heart a big coward,” responded Ralph Lumley, The end of the line was reached, and taking out his note-book the surveyor put - down a number of figures. : e “Now, this is the way we work it, Joe, he saia. “ You understood how I got those angles, didn’t you?” Ces... i “Well, now, this line was four chains and a half long. The last was just double that, so if we——” Bang! It was the loud report of a gun that startled both of them. It came from a short distance down the mountain side. “Some hunter,” said Joe, who was the first to speak. “But I don’t want him to hit me.” : “T’ll fire my pistol and warn him others ‘are near,” returned Ralph Lumley. He felt for his weapon, and then a look of disappointment crossed his face. “Pshaw |” “What's the matter?” “T left the pistol at home.” Just then came another report. not quite so close at hand. | : “Sounds as if he was running from us, said the surveyor. “If that is the case, there won’t be any call to warn him.” “T wonder what he is after?” “Birds, most likely. There isn’t much else up here, I fancy.” : “Once in a great while they strike game on the mountains,” said Joe, “but it is not often.” “IT know that. Two years ago I came upon a deer not over five miles from here.” “Did you bag him?” “No. [had nothing but a pistol, and before I could get in more than one shot the deer was out of range.” “T shot a couple of foxes up here last year,” said Joe. “I followed them all the way from our chicken house. They had killed two chickens and were carrying them off,” “It was clever to trail_ them, for they are so sly that—— Goodness gracious, look there |” ; Ralph Lumley sprang back and pointed to a thicket to the left. Joe saw that he was greatly alarmed. “What is it?” he asked, quickly. “Some big black animal.” “Are you sure?” é There was no need for Ralph ore to assure Joe that he was, for hardl: had the question been asked that from behind the thicket lumbered a big black bear, “A bear, sure enough!” cried Joe, in alarm. “We must get out of the way,” yelled Ralph Lumley. “T reckon we can scare him off,” de- clared Joe. “Hi, hi! get out of here, you brute? «. But the bear did not scare iii the least. - Instead he came nearer, and there was an angry light in his rolling eyes. “He has been wounded !” shouted Ralph Lumley. “And he is in a regular rage.” “Let’s run for it, then!” replied Joe. Both started to do so in the same direction, and as a consequence they came together so soundly that the breath was knocked out of them completely. Joe rolled on the ground, and Ralph _Lumley went down on top of him. Before either could rise the bear was close at hand. - “Get out of here!” screamed Joe, and the surveyor yelled nearly as loudly. _ The bear arose on his hind legs as Ralph Lumley sprang up, and made a dash for the man, ay Joe instinctively felt for a stone, and, It was finding one close at hand, shied it at the -ereature’s head. His aim was true, and bruin dropped down, hardly knowing what to make of this sort of attack. _ his gave the surveyor a chance to get - out of immediate danger, and he was not slow in embracing the opportunity. But it placed Joe ina position of greater danger than even before, for now, with an angry growl, the bear leaped directly upon the boy. But Joe was nimble, despite the fact that his left hand was inasling. As the bear came down he doubled up almost - into a ball, and before the creature could strike him, with paw or otherwise, he ~ had rolled over out of reach. “Good for you!” shouted Ralph Lum- ley. “Now run for it, Joe!” “That’s what I’m going to do,” panted the boy. “And you had better do the same, : _.. Ralph Lumley needed no urging. His legs were long, and he put in his best efforts at covering the ground. GrooDp Joe essayed to follow, but in rolling on 'the ground he had received some dirt in his eyes, and this somewhat blinded him. He covered a distance of nearly fifty feet, and then was compelled to pause, for he could hardly see. “Come.on!” yelled the surveyor. “Don’t stop there.” “TI can’t see!” replied Joe. “Can’t see?” “No; my eyes are full of dirt.” “The dickens you say. Well, straight ahead. Here, give me hand,” Ralph Lumley came back, and took his hand. By this time the bear was again close by, and they had to run lively to get out of his reach. On and on they went through the bushes until the surveyor gave a sudden ery of alarm. “Oh, what a fool I’ve been !” “What’s up now?” queried Joe, still trying to free his eyes from the blinding dirt. “Can't you see where we are?” “No; I can hardly see anything.” “We are on the path that leads to that precipice whichI pointed out to you as we came up.” “And the bear is still following us?” “Listen !” 3 They did so. Yes, the bear was still following, and he was not very far be- hind. “Can’t we turn back or to one side?” Ralph Lumley gave a hasty glance around. To one side was a steep wall all of fifteen feet high, to the other a dense hollow, filled with slimy water and rank vegetation. “We might go down there,” he said. “But the chances are that the hollow is ‘full of snakes.” “Ugh! I don't want any more snakes!” shuddered Joe. He had hardly uttered the words when the bear again appeared in sight, not twenty feet behind them. (TO BE CONTINUED.) ——_+-¢-->— ]This Story Will Not be Published in Book-Form. } Captured at Sea; OR, DICK WILLARD’S STRANGE LUCK. ee BY CLARENCE CONVERSE, Author of “Dick Oakley's Adventures,” etc., ete. run your i tee (“CAPTURED AT SEA” was commenced in No. 205. Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.) > —_= CHAPTER XXXII. AN ENTRY IN THE LOG OF THE ALLIANCE. O yovw’ve stolen her from the thieves ? Very good, very good !” was Captain Reed’s hearty comment, as he turned toward Dick after Lieutenant Rich had stated the case, and Dick was greatly pleased with the friendly greeting of the genial captain ;:‘‘and you think we may be able to catch the scoundrels if I put back di- rectly for Bino Island?” he questioned. “There is a.chance, I think, sir,” was Dick’s courteous answer. ‘‘And it would be : matter of the greatest importance to me— Geaas” ; Captain Reed was glancing out of a port at the little yacht as she lay almost immov- ably on the water two cables’ length dis- tant. _ “Mr. Rich,” he said, smiling appreciat- ively, “isn’t that the same little vessel we ran very near to, under steam, six days ago? —and this gentleman,” with a nod toward the apprehenatye Sing, “working her pump brake ?” Lieutenant Rich regarded the yacht a mo- ment. “Yes, sir—Pilgrim, Martinique,” he an- swered slowly, reading the name with the help of a glass. _ The incident amused Captain Reed not a little. But Sing’s knees began to smite each other at the incident being recalled and at his identification. “They painted that name over her real one. She is named the Lurline, and belongs to a Mr. Huntington, of Boston,” said Dick, ‘Lurline! Well, the rascals did disguise her,” remarked Captain Reed. He walked over to a book-case, without a word, and taking a newspaper from a ' pigeon-hole, handed it to Dick, with his fin- | ger on an article headed with a number of | sentences in bold type. Then he and Lieutenant Rich watched Dick with smiles of quiet amusement, as the ; young fellow read for the first time the ac- count of the theft of Mr. Huntington’s yacht, and of the large rewards offered for ) her capture and that of the thieves. NEWS. “You were going to say something when |] interrupted you. What was it?” Captain Reed asked, when Dick laid the paper down. “T was going to tell you that the thieves stole the vessel in order to find some buried treasure that rightfully belongs tome. They had dug it up and were bringing it down to the water when I sailed the yacht away. I picked this coin up near where the treasure was buried.” Dick handed Captain Reed the coin as he spoke, and he told the whole story from the first item down to his sighting of the Alli- ance, “Hum! Well, you have had an experi- ence,” was Captain Reed’s friendly comment. “T have heard of that Captain Kelly, and I hear that old Sanateo and his people are fit subjects for the good missionaries. You came near catching a rather undesirable bit of barbarism on Watling’s Island, and no mistake. But all’s well that ends well. You've earned a tidy sum of prize money, and there’s a good chance for your getting your treasure besides, after all. A hundred thousand dollars in gold weighs about—let’s see,” he continued ; ‘about three hundred and thirty-five pounds, according to a state- ment I once saw somewhere. So the three gentlemen will have hard work getting very far off with the gold. “This is a case where I think Uncle Sam will not object if I burn a little coal,” he added, and he turned to the lieutenant. “See to steam being gotten up at once, Mr. Rich.” Lieutenant Rich left the cabin and Cap- tain Reed dropped into a revolving chair op- posite the little book-case. “You said something about the Duchess going down—or ‘did I make a mistake ?” ‘“T learned of her foundering through Sing, here, when I boarded the yacht. She went down almost directly after the shock or the collision. J——” A puzzled look had come over the face of Captain Reed. He interrupted Dick with the question : “That was over a week ago ?” SY 6si-sit.” Captain Reed made no answer; but he touched a bell, when the steward appeared. ‘Bring me the log.” While the man was gone, the commander regarded the humble figure of Sing quizzi- cally. : On the steward bringing the canvas-bound volume, the captain turned a page back from the one with the last entry. ‘Saturday 21,22,” he read, and mumbling over most of the entry, began aloud* again with the next to the last item: “Spoke schooner Duchess, Beacon Cove, Captain Joyce. Bow stove by collision with un- known brig night of 19th ult. Did not want assistance. Second mate, Willard, lost at time of collision. Chinese cook thought to have been lost also.” Sing began to shift uneasily from one foot to the other, and examine the end of his cue intently. Dick muttered alow “Thank God !” under his breath. It was about the best news that he could have heard. The schooner Duchess had on board the only persons in this wide world-— or almost the only persons—whom Dick Willard could call his friends, in the full meaning of that sadly misused word. wy ow'll give Captain Joyce a bit of a sur- prise when you turn up, Mr. Willard,” was Captain Reed’s exclamation, as he closed-the log with a snap, and regarded the manly young fellow with a merry twinkle to his dark eyes. “I would advisé your not walk- ing in on him too suddenly of a dark night. ‘But now what do you intend doing with the schooner yacht?” he asked. ‘We will have steam up shortly, and the quicker we bout ship the better.” “IT was just thinking of that,” Dick re- sponded. ‘I suppose I had better get you to loan me two of your men, so that I can be sure of taking her into Nassau safely, I can cable Mr: Huntington from there But——” : Captain Reed smiled as Dick hesitated. But you'd like torun back to the island with us? Well, I hardly blame you. Stew- ard, tell Lieutenant Reynolds I would like to see him.” The commander of the Alliance examined the gold coin Dick had handed him min- utely. ‘‘What kind of coin did you reckon this to be?” . “From what I have heard father tell. I thought it looked like a Spanish doubloon,” was Dick’s response, , ‘You are right there. It is rather disfig- ured, but I have handled a number, Their value is $15.93, to be exact.” At that moment Lieutenant Reynolds—a RRP officer ~entered, » you are to take a cablegram to Nassau, in the launch, and wait there un- til the ship touches.” As Captain Reed said this he took a sheet of paper and envelope from his desk and made room for Dick there. “Remember,” he cautioned, good- naturedly, ‘‘each word will cost you more than eight ordinary messages.” ‘“T sha’n’t be able to send a word unless you will be kind enough to advance the money on that gold piece,” was Dick's frank acknowledgment ; and he hesituted, ‘Lieutenant Reynolds will attend to the details.” Dick hurriedly wrote the following mes- sage : “HULL YACHT CLUB, Hull, Mass., U. 8. A. “Lurline found. Cable ‘RICHARD WILLARD, “Nassau, New Providence.” CHAPTER XXXIII. CAPTAIN REED’S PLAN. HE Duchess was safe with her little ~ party. That was a glorious bit of Fj), news to Dick. I doubt if he could have heard anything else so welcome. The Lurline was now the same as returned to Mr, Huntington, and a reward far more generous than Dick had thought would be offered, was as good as earned. The cable- gram would be flashed to its destination by noon apprising the yacht’s owner of the capture of her. But just what plan Captain Reed was con- cocting puzzled Dick, who, as he glanced out of a port toward the retreating launch, was conscious that the soldierly appearing man by his side was scanning him over intently. The Lurline was riding the light swell as gracefully as a sleeping water fowl, within easy hail of the shiv, the two men aboard of her lounging on the taffrail with heads — together. But they had their eyes open for any slant of air that might drive the little schooner under the far-reaching yards of © the Alliance. “T have an old seaman who was brought up in these waters. more likely to catch the thieves than one. I will send him to act as your pilot. You have no fear of not being able to handle the « 5 9) * with a proper crew? ey schooner— Captain Reed paused after the question, in the act of pressing the button of his elec-_ tric bell. “She is a costly vessel. I would not take risks in her that we have in the Duchess— I have ‘a first mate’s papers,” was Dicks ready answer; and one which evidently satisfied Commander Reed. ‘The captain summoned a lieutenant and gave him orders which, in brief, were to _ pick two of the best sailors, one from each | watch, and have them in the cutter with Sam Tomlinson, as speedily as possible, and to report to him when they were ready to leave the ship. “You will sail to Watling’s Island and make inquiry at the three villages,” he said,turning to Dick. “I don’t apprehend any trouble at the hands of Governor Sanateo when you — land backed up by five brawny Yankee Jacks. But I will equip them with side arms if you feel any uneasiness.” Two vessels will be - Zi = ‘ - “The yacht has a full stock of arms, Dick answered, ‘I may take some WiD- chesters ashore when we land, but they — shall not be used except to protect life. give you my word of honor as to that,” he added, earnestly. ‘I do not anticipate any trouble. Mr. Huntington would sanction my plan. Come to Bino from Watling’s if you learm — nothing there.” The conversation was interrupted by thé entrance of Lieutenant Gulick. Be “The cutter is alongside with the men 12 her,” he reported, with sidewise: glances # the young fellow standing by the desk. “Lieutenant Gulick--Captain Willard.” Captain Reed smiled with quiet amuse ment at the expression of surprise on 1) officer’s face, as he introduced them. He looked for some embarrassment in Dicks manner. But beyond a slight heightenIM® — of color beneath the deep tan, Dick answere to his new title nonchalantly. ; The three proceeded to the deck, where a large volume of smoke could be see? pouring from the great stack of the vessel. “Tomlinson is to act as pilot for Captar Willard, and he and Howe, Griffith, Jobhn- son, and Beckwith take orders from ae captain.” saa ‘Captain Reed gave this direction 1 Lieutenant Gulick. ¥ feel sa Dick had presence of mind enough 0 — “salute the quarter-deck” after shakin hands with his new friends. i He and Lientenant Gulick went dow? the ladder preceded by Sing, who preserved a ‘Stairs an a pecte wh led with unwonted animation. & singularly thoughtful mood, and they Were pulled across the short stretch of in- tervening water to the schooner. ‘‘May luck attend you, Captain Willard,” Was Lieutenant Gulick’s parting salute. The launch bearing the cablegram to Nassau wasa small spect on the water off toport. She would be lying by the stone Stairs of the Custom House in an hour, and an answer to her message might be ex- a pected in the morning. Sing disappeared below decks as though SF something required his prompt attention here. ‘Ease off the main-sheet, Mr. Tomlinson, Stand by jib and staysail sheets, two of you, to ease off and sheet in.” The breeze of the morning was now a ‘8ood ten knot one, and it kept the sheets tugging savagely. Conscious that the eyes of most of the @ Crew of the Alliance were upon them, the Yacht’s crew were only too desirous of acquit- ting themselves creditably. And the light of Teminiscence sparkled in the bright eyes of @ Yomlinson, the incident recalling the man- Ning of prize vessels in the days of his boy- ood. The Lurline was gotten on the return ‘Course before the Alliance, and she began ‘Showing her heels to the great vessel. When er topsails were all up and pulling like Ponies, Dick told his plans to Tomlinson, } 8S he and the grizzly old seaman stood on the quarter-deck. The Alliance, with the help of her steam nd a perfect pyramid of canvas reaching to he clouds, however, soon drew up along- Side in the race, and the officers of both ves- Sels raised their hats in polite mutual Salute. When the man-of-war had drawn on a Mile or more ahead, Dick called his men aft Sr the pick of watches. He gave a brief Speech, which, after a short explanation of € case, ended with the promise that each Man should receive a hundred dollars, out of his reward, should any of the three thieves 6 captured. “And we must capture them,” added Dick, firmly, CHAPTER XXXIV. THE NEW GOVERNOR. LOWLY and gracefully the Lurline a moved through the narrow channel, and dropped anchor not more than a pistol-shot from the adobe home of Usky Governor Sanateo, When the Lurline’s boat grated on the nd, Dick led his handful of armed men taight up to the governor’s house. ', the young commander was just a trifle Dxious, “If the old villain has put Carli through,” th Said to himself, ‘I'll be tempted to sack € town.” And he felt no doubtas to his ability to do », backed as would be any order he might "Blve the five bluecoats of his party, each of Om carried one of the yacht’s Winchest- "ts, a belt of ammunition and holster, from Ose top was visible the butt of a heavy Caliber navy revolver. th he six or eight idle villagers, lounging in - doorways, appeared to be suddenly im- ; At least, x fy took to the woods with suspicious lacrity. but surely that step could not be Governor to's shambling gait, nor yet Chicua’s ay noiseless footfall, as Dick rapped on _-® door-casing of the dwelling. “Carli !” ete lithe, not unhandsome young native i © appeared in the doorway regarded his ‘itor with reserved surprise. Then he | harbor, Chicua, simply though becomingly clothed in a garment of some soft material reaching to her ankles, zame shyly forward with a welcoming smile for the manly young vis- itor, who doffed his hat at her approach. “Murk not here no more,” was Carli’s dry response. ‘‘Governor want him be kill when we come back.” He drew Dick into the building as he spoke, and the three seated themselves on the mats. ‘Put him in irons—him try what we try. Then me marry Chicua; me be governor— then me let Murk go.” And Carli then explained how some of his people produced a long swamp pole, and taking that young man into their hands rode him out of the village with his big attendant, in a way not unlike one prac- ticed in our more civilized countries. The sailors outside the adobe cabin peered in respectfully, and Sam Tomlinson stood in the entry with his musket at parade rest. Their desire to keep as near the door as | possible might have been from the fear that | their young officer might come to some per- sonal harm ; but I will risk it that the ex- planations they heard Carli and Dick giving each other, and the smiling comment of pretty Chicua now and then, had more to do with their attitude than anything else, When Dick asked Carli if any strange sailors had been seen near there, the new governor shook his head. He and pretty Chicua listened with a great deal of sur- prise to Dick’s story of the theft of the treasure. “Our canoes good canoes,” Carli said, encouragingly, when the story was finished. “P’r’aps catch sailors. Carli try to do so for white friend who do so much for Carli.” “IT know you will do that,” was Dick’s confident response. ‘I should like to stay, too, and take a meal with you,” he added, as Carli pressed him to, seconded by Chic- ua’s odd little nods and blushing glances— | very much like those of a young married lady of lighter complexion and metropoli- tan surroundings. But Dick had to be firm in his refusal to accept the urgent invitation. He rose and respectfully extended his hand to the new ‘firstlady” of the village, who advanced her very small velvety one coquettishly in return. Next he gave Carli’s hand a warm pres- sure, pretending not to notice a tear that glistened in the eye of the impressionable youth, and he wished him good fortune until they met again. ‘Though, as_ they parted, Dick felt that it was very unlikely that he would ever again see the young islander. ‘‘We’ll drop in at the other village,’”’ said Dick, when once more on board the Lur- line, ‘‘and if there’s no news of my friends there we will try to drop over to Bino Island before dark. The Alliance must have gone over the ground there pretty thoroughly by this time.” “Captain Reed will have found out if your friends, as you calls them, are there,” was Sam Tomlinson’s assurance. ‘Jump; there, Howe ! Captain Willard wants to dine along with Captain Reed to-night.” And broad-shouldered,deep-chested Howe and the others, swinging in the light boat, did jump. The trim schooner moved out of the little Dick waved his hand to Carli and Chicua, who then passed into their adobe home—out of sight of Dick and out of my story forever. (TO BE CONTINUED.) a COULDN’T BE DONE. A professor of legerdemaiti was exhibit- Me forward quickly. eriend! Carli not know who you be.” | ),. Vell,” exclaimed Dick, heartily, grasp- 4, the proffered hand, “I don’t know but | “tI might not have recognized you if I Gan, S882 you anywhere else—in those Mothes,” peor if there was a change in Dick’s ap- ig tance since he had last seen the young Yu tder, there was as great a one in the ap- ¥,2Nce of the young mulatto, who might Hy Ost have posed as one of the old-time 4 “ors of Venice, in the deep purple sash Ue brilliant neck-cloth that had taken the ‘Aly ® of a suit of the worst clothes trom the i 2 chest of the brig Black-Eyed Susan. igh Verything evidently has turned out all » exclaimed Dick. ‘I thought it at, nla; but I feared that that sneak, Murk’’— ui Smiled at the mention of the name— ty, S4t give you some trouble, and I in- , lea trying to get some word from here j wee as I could,” : hy, Bile Dick was speaking, two curtains in ty “8° corner of the building were parted & graceful olive-hued arm, and pretty | goodly audience. ing in a provincial theater, and he had a The professor was go- ing to perform the wonderful trick of causing a piece of money to pass, by the simple effort of his will, from a securely- locked box upon the table, or from a gentleman’s hand, into the pocket of one of the boys in the audience. Of course, he must call up a boy to help him, and he chanced to fix his eye upon a tow-headed urchin near the front, who promised, in appearance, to answer his purpose. He called, and the boy came up. : “Now, my man,” said the professor, in his grandiose way, at the same time lay- ing his hand upon the boy's head, “I am going to cause that piece of money—you see it?—it isa solid piece of metal—to pass from tleat box, in which you shall see me put it, into your pocket. You don’t think I ean do it, do you?” “No, sir, I don’t,” answered the lad, with decided emphasis. “Well, do you stand up here, and we shall see.” “But, sir,” persisted the boy, “ther’ an’t no use’r yer tryin’, ’cause I know yer can't do it.” “You know I can’t? Don’t be too sure, GOOD NEWS. 3415 Wait and see. Just stand right there. There! Now hold up your head, and look steadily at me, to see that I do not cheat * you. : “Oh, well!” muttered the persistent urchin, with a comical grimace, “Ill stand anywhere ye want; only, if you git any money into my pocket, I reckon ye’ll hey to find the pocket, for I an’t had such a thing this two months. I tored ’em out at hooking apples, and han’t had none put in sence,” eh - 6 AN ODD GHOST STORY. > if is strange,” said my grandfather one winter’s evening, as we sat by at the log fire, roasting chestnuts, and watching the flames leaping and dancing in harmony with the music of the crackling of the fuel and the burst- ing of the nuts. “i was saying, Tom, that it was strange that the trivial inci- dents and events of one’s early life stand out so clearly through all the years that have slipped by, and seem as vivid and real as the things of yesterday.” Then grandfather stopped and looked at the fire, evidently in deep thought, from which we children knew from past ex- perience he would evolve some _ story which would call for all our interest and attention, And soit proved, for, rousing himself suddenly, he hurried into a narrative at once strange and interesting. “Yes,” he said, “ghost stories are, as a rule, capable of explanation. I know it fora fact. If only those who see the ap- parition were to exert a little presence of mind, it would be possible for them to solve what they precipitately put down as supernatural and mysterious. “T remember when I was a young man that I received an urgent invitation from a very valued friend to spend a couple of weeks at his father's house at Mobberley. Of course I responded most willingly, the more so that [had never been to his place before, although I had heard much of it. We traveled by coaches in those days, and a journey from London to the north of Lincolnshire was no unconsidered trifle, I can assure you.’ However, in a few days I found myself speeding up the drive which led to the ancestral home of the Arden Howard family, and was, in truth, highly gratified at the hearty reception my friend and his people extended to me. “There was no event of unusual interest for some days. Hunting, shooting and skating parties were organized, and in a down-right old-fashioned way we young people did justice to the entertainment so lavishly provided. “But itso happened that one day dur- ing the first week of my stay, and some few days before Christmas, I met with a slight accident while on the ice, anda sprained ankle prevented me from further indulging in outside sports for the re- mainder of my’stay. Nevertheless, I in- sisted that my inability to join them should in no way deter my companions from following their ‘own sweet will. Thus it happened that one evening I was the sole occupant of the great hall, which was, in point of fact, the largest room in the whole house, and a most imposing apartment it was. The lofty ceiling was supported by massive beams of Oak finely carved, and blackened by the smoke of centuries, while hanging round its walls were some of the most beautiful tapes- tries I have ever seen. At mntervals were placed suits. of armor, shields, swords, spears, and other war-like implements, which shone and glistened in the glow of the immense fire which burned in the open hearth, “For a while I had occupied myself with a book, sitting far back in the chim- ney-corner, in order to avoid, aS much as possible, the draughts which seemed to steal upon one from all quarters; but as it grew dusk I threw it aside, and fell into a state of musing, which must have lasted some considerable time, since I found afterward that my pipe, which I had just filled, was empty when I roused myself. ‘The immediate cause of my arousal is the point of my tale, which is most interesting and curious. I was, as I said, sitting far in the chimney recess— where the light of the fire, which made more or less visible the whole of the room, was unable to penetrate—and was speculating on the various objects of in- terest the place contained, when a door at the farther end of the roomavas cau- tiously opened, and a figure arrayed ina garment of white noiselessly entered and glided over the stone floor. It came straight across the apartment, and cast- ing a furtive glance round, took from its place on the wall what in the distance seemed a long dagger, and in another moment it was gone—disappearing, it would seem, behind the tapestry hang- ings. “You may judge I was somewhat startled at the apparition, yet being curi- ous to see for myself what, further would happen, I sat immovable for the period of—it may have been—fifteen minutes, when I was both shocked and horrified to see the figure return, with the same noise- less tread, clutching the dagger in its hand; while the drapery, the hand, and the dagger itself were now covered with stains of blood. Before replacing it, how- ever, the figure wiped the blade upon its dress, and left thereon a most ghastly and appalling stain. Then, with a sig- nificant, almost noiseless laugh, it with- drew as it had come. If I was startled at first, you may judge that the ‘creepy’ sensation was not a littl: augmented by the second appearance, and I had come to no satisfactory solution of the matter, when my friend, returning, entered the hall, and burst into an excited account of his afternoon’s sport, “That night I questioned the family as to the ghostly visitor, but found that the house was quite free from any such tradi- tion, not even possessing, as most old country houses do, a haunted chamber; and the family were as much astonished at my vision as I was myself... They had never heard of any such apparition, and for some time stoutly held that I had fallen asleep and dreamed the whole thing. Finally it was agreed that on the following day Herbert and Ishould watch together, and accordingly, at the same hour next day, we stationed ourselves in the chimney recess to await events; but we waited in vain. “Three days we watched thus, and for three days I endured the good-natured banter of the whole family; but on the fourth day—Christmas Eve—our patience was rewarded, for scarcely had we settled into comfortable shape, when the ghost walked. Never ‘shall I forget my com- panion’s face as the door opened, disclos- ing the form swathed in white. Hitherto he had been skeptical, and was the most aggressive of my many tormentors; yet I can now see how his eyes became fixed and his ruddy face paled before the dim- ly-outlined form, which, with many a sidelong, cautious glance, neared the spot it had visited when I had first observed it. Sostill and death-like was the silence, that the crackling of the log startled us, and I believe we both felt as though ‘our each particular hair’ was standing on end, as the white arm of the figure drew out the dagger from its sheath; it cer- tainly is true we drew breath more easily when the door was once more closed. Still, we were determined to unravel the mystery, and so with tremulous steps we followed our unearthly visitant. Herbert was familiar with the passage along which we hurried, through a concealed door, into a large court-yard, from which the various outbuildings were entered. “There was just light enough to enable us to discern the movements of the ob- ject we were tracking. Leaving the yard, it entered a building opposite our point of observation. Immediately there was a scuffling sound as of some one struggling, and, terrified and alarmed, we rushed across the yard. What a spectacle we be- held! Never shall I forget the sight which met our gaze... The figure in white was stooping over a living form, which emitted» the most horrifying cries and sounds that ever fell on mortal ears. One hand was on the throat, and in the other was the uplifted weapon of destruction, “As we looked we seemed to gain fresh courage, and rushed forward to prevent, if possible, the coming blow, but as we entered, the hand dropped, and the dag- ger entered the throat. Thén, with one terrible shriek and an unavailing strug- gle, the eyes closed and the living, ani- mate form became forever still. There facing us stood the form in white, with the dreadful instrument now dripping blood ‘still in his hands. Yet neither of us moved until with a strange gesture it spoke thus: ‘Ob, Mr. Herbert, sir, please, sir, indeed, sir, I’m awful sorry, sir, that I used this, sir, but them other knives an’t a bit sharp, an’ them °’ere suckin’-pigs wants to be dealt with quick like. An’ please, sir, don’t tell master as ’ow I used this, or ‘e’l] be after giving me notice to quit. An’ please, sir, in- deed, Mr. Herbert, sir, I'l! never do it agen, sir.’ “The fact of the matter was, that the cook, having to provide sucking-pigs for dinner, clandestinely purloined one of the sharpest instruments, in order to overcome, as speedily as possible, the ob- stacles which lay in the way of pig-kill- ing. His white blouse and apron in the dim, uncertain firelight, together with his strange and uncanny conduet, had deluded us into the belief that his appear- ance was of a supernatural character. “This is my ghost-story, and I venture to believe that the majority of those told would, if treated to a similar investiga- tion, prove just as delusive.” And my grandfather, having ended his tale, resumed once more his pipe, and sat laughingly enjoying our somewhat amusing criticism of his story of the cook’s ghost. —_~ + <——____ ENVELOPES were first used in 1839, ~ by proper change of number on your label. GooD NEWS. ISSUED WEEKLY. NEW YORK, JUNE 9, 1894. Terms to Good News Mail Subscribers: (PosvaGE FREE.) Z3months - - + - - 65c,| One Year, - + - - - $2.50 4months - - - + - 5c, | 2copies, one year- - 4.00 6months - - - -_- $1.25 | L copy, two years = -, 4.00 Goop News AND N. Y. WEEKLY, both, one year, $4.50 How vo SEND Monery.—By post-office or ae mouey order, registered letter, bauk check or draft, at our risk. At your own risk, if sent by postal note, currency, coin, or postage stamps in ordinary letter. RENEWALS.—Lhe number indicated on your address label denotes when your subscription expires. All subscriptions will be stopped promptly at expiration of time paid for. ; 5 REcEIPTS.— Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged t If not cor rect you Lave not been properly credited, and should let us know at once. . ‘Yo CLUB KatsERs.—Upon request we will send sam- ple copies to aia you in obtaining subscribers. : AGENtTS.—Our responsibility for remittances applies only to such as are sent to us direct, and we wi 1 not guarantee the reliability of any subscription agency or postmaster. All letters should be addressed to STREET & SMUTEH'S GOOD NEWS, 27 & 2 Rose Street, N.Y. Back numbers of GOOD NEWS can always be obtained from your Newsdealers. If they do not have them please send direct to this office and we will supply them by mail on receipt of price. Advertising rates, 50 cents per agate line. Contents of this Number, SERIAL STORIES. “Blue and White Sam,” by “Ernest A. Young. “The Pluck of a Pilot,’ by Lieut. Lionel Lounsberry. “Joe the Surveyor,” by Edward Strate- meyer. “Little Hickory of the Mountain Express,” by Victor St. Clair. “Captured at Sea,” by Clarence Converse. “Tom ‘Truxton’s Schooldays,” by Harvey Hicks. ‘That Young Scamp Billy,” by Larry Lee. SHORT STORIES. “The Colonel’s Runaway,” by George W. Browne. “An Odd Ghost Story.” “Saving the Building and Loan Money,” by KE. E. Youmans. “About Secret Inventions.” “A Night in a Balloon,” by H. I. Allen. “How ‘Lucky’ Jack Won His Title’—The Good News Story Tellers’ Club. REGULAR DEPARTMENTS. “Short Talks With the Boys,” by Arthur Sewall. “Ticklets,” by Chas. W. Foster. “Mail Bag,” “Exchange Department,” ‘Club Notices,” ete. A RARE TREAT. We can promise every one of our readers a rare treat in the serial to commence Next WEEK : THE BOY FROMTHE WEST; OR, The Struggle for the White Horse Mine. By HARRY DANGERFIELD. It is an exciting and thrilling story from start to finish, and we are sure each of our readers will follow with keen interest the adventures of the manly cowboy hero who, coming directly from the ranch, faces so bravely the many perils of the great metro- _ polis while battling for his mother’s rights. ————_--—- + «> —- —-— SOON TO FOLLOW! A splendid story of LIFE AMONG THE GYPSIES, by Joun H. Wurrson, will begin shortly. It is undoubtedly the best boys’ story this talented author has yet written. ——— > + Tell your friends of all the good stories |' GOOD NEWS is publishing; tell them also of the PRIZE PUZZLE. Sort FatKs —= WITH THE ‘Boys. foe ga etal EDITED BY ARTHUR SEWALL,. MORE ON CONTRIVING. LD Commodore Vanderbilt used to tell a good story that bears on this point of contriving: : AS~ “When I was a youngster,” said he, “a lot ot us farmers’ boys on Staten Island had sail-boats, and once ina while one of us would make a shilling or two by carrying a passenger to New York. It wasn’t much money, but money was so scarce in those days that all of us hung around waiting for a job. I hadn’t the best boat of the lot; 1 wasn’t the best sailor, either; but one day I made up my mind that the boat and my Sailing skill were all the capital I had, and I must get my living out of them in some way. It took months of thinking and contriving, but one day I went along the shore, and told every family that thereafter my boat would start for New York at certain hours every day, whether there were any passengers or not. I made a good many trips alone, but in the course of time my boat became the recognized ferry. It was the starter of my line of ocean steamers and all the money I made afterward. I've helped to bury some of the other fellows —owners of better boats—real bright fel- lows, too; they didn’t leave enough to pay their funeral expenses.” The word “contriving” has an ugly sound; it often is used to describe people who are underhand and tricky, but it doesn’t necessarily mean anything uf the sort. The inventor is contriving when trying to find a method of making easier some kind of work; so is priest or preacher, rabbi or teacher, when he tries to win soine bad man from his evil ways, General Sheridan was essentially a con- triving man; he used to say that he wasn’t half as smart as some of hisclass- mates—he knew he wasn’t; but some other people knew that during the war, while some of these smart fellows were sleeping or joking, Sheridan was think- ing hard—contriving, or trying to con- trive, some new way to make the best possible results with the force he had, Grant was another ¢ontriving man, Some of his earlier corps cominanders called him stupid, but his adjutant-gen- eral once told me that when everything was red-hot at the front, Grant would sit on his horse in the rear, or perhaps lie on the ground, listen to all reports that came in, think a little while, and then issue an order that would speedily im- prove the aspect of things. General Lee was a great deal the same sort of man: so were Sherman and Joe Johnston; if they hadn’t been, the war would still be go- ing on. : Don’t fear that to be contriving is to be mean. Any quality of mind may be wrongly used; but this is not necessary. Because you are contriving it does not follow that you are trying to get some other man’s money away from him; you can do better by confining yourself to trying to get full value out of whatever is yourown. Take nostock in the yarn that all business is gambling or theft; there’s a chance for you to make a com- etence without injuring any other man, ome men who have made fortunes, have at the same time bettered the condition of every one with whom they dealt. Turn your business over in your mind frequently; there is no other way to get light on all sides of it, Now for our letters, H..McD., Philadelphia, writes: “Will you kindly give me some advice, as I think you are the only person I ean ask that can give it in this case. I would like to go to the naval academy. I was born in Glasgow, Scotland May 6, 1878; my father and mother Irish. My father came to this country when I was 3 years old. My mother and I followed about 6 years later. My father is a citizen of the United States. My teetly are not good; two in the hack part are pretty well decayed, and two in my upper set, also, and my feet are not well formed, beingrather flat, taking a No. 7shoe,and I have not got a good education. Tam poor and Thave to work. Will you please excuse my presumption in wishing to go to the academy because iffas been my one wish ever since I came to this country, and knew what it was. I don’t care for anything else, as Lam in love with one day being an officer in the United States Navy. I don’t see why T should not want to go as wellas arich boy. Now, ifthere is any chance, do you think I could be prepared by the time Lam 18? How mnueh will it cost to get educated at night, and where? Will you please tellme something about the engineer service, as a friend of mine wants to know.” | The tone of your letter indicates that you mean to succeed in anything that you sue ~ take, and that being so, perha you will make a good thing of it, even if you enter Uncle Sam’s navy, coy So long as your parent is a citizen, it does not make any difference what country you come from, but the physical requirements are very strict to gain admission, and the fact that your teeth are bad, and your feet mis- shaped, may be the means of your application being rejected. On the whole, we think if you are deter- mined to enter the navy, you had better not trust to obtaining an education through say a night school or by self-teaching, but enlist as an apprentice, and then strike for promo- tion to the position of gunner, which pays $1,200 per year, and the advantages of a com- missioned officer. Then again you might apply for admission to the Saratoga, the Pennsylvania State schoolship, and thus work your way into the merchant marine. For information concerning the engineer corps, we would advise you to write to the Commanding Officer, Willett’s Point, L. 1. for full particulars. , H. H. W., Covington, Ky., writes: “I have been a clerk in a book-store about a year, and understand the business in allits branches, 1 aim only sixteen, but want to strike out and make money. To what city shall I go? Lunow get six dollars per week,” Are you not just a bit conceited, Harry? It is doubtful if you, after an experience of only a year, understand the business as thorough as you imagine; and in the second place, you = may be receiving all the wages your services” are worth, and more than you could earn else" where. The first thing for a boy to realize the truth of the old saying, that “‘a roll stone gathers no moss.’”’? Steady work is wh counts in the long run. The boy who gi flying from place to place, not only suffers reputation, but will be out of work a gooe share of each year. ' By And, too, boys are apt to overestimate the own importance and the value of their serv: ices. If Harry should leave his place travel east, west, or north in search of an other, it might be months before he co earn a dollar. While the chances are that Dl is receiving all the wages he could commé anywhere, he can console himself with reflection that the longer he remains in place, proving his honesty, industry, 4 general fitness, the more his services will B appreciated and the more salary he can com mand. He ought to remember the old sayimg that ‘‘a rolling stone gathers no moss.” SpecraL Notick.—Many communicatio improperly addressed to this department, 4 answered in the ‘‘Mail Bag.” Splendid Story Books FREE Read over this TO ALL OF OUR READERS The Chance of a Lifetime, which will Never Come Again. List of Books. Are They Not Just What You Would Like to Have? PERILS OF THE JUNGLE. A Tale of African Adventure. By LIE R. H. Jayne. 212 pages. Illustrated. ARTHUR HELMUTH. A Railroad Story for Boys. By E. S. ELLIS. 306 pages. Illustrated. THE RAJAH’S FORTRESS. A Hunting Story. By WILLIAM MUR GRAYDON. 330 pages. Illustrated. ; A NEW YORK BOY. A Story of Metropolitan Life. By ARTHUR PUTNAM. 307 pages. Illustrated. $500; or, Jacob Marlowe’s Secret. By Horatio ALGER, JR. pages. Illustrated. TOM TRACY; or, The Trials of a New York Newsboy. By ART Lee PUTNAM. 218 pages. Illustrated. HEiow You Can Obtain ONE VOLUME OR THE ENTIRE SEI We want everybody to see “Good News” and read it for a few weeks, j find oat what a really good boys’ and girls’ paper it is. So we have determined to 3 Trial Subscription of Ten Weeks for only Twenty-Five Cents, Postpaid, the subscription to start with some recent issue designated by the publishers, an } containing fifty cents, we will send, above books. We will subscriptions, ete, : the opening of a splendid serial story. Now, to the person who will send us two of these trial subscriptions with the am0 Free of Cost, his or her choice of any one of send two books for four subscriptions, three books | You can get the subscriptions with but little trouble if you only try. In send trial subscriptions, be sure book or books desired, and write out names and addresses in full, and mention Such a chance to get valuable story books does not occu every day. We obtained these books at far below their actual value, and we intend to give our readers the benefit of our bal gain. This offer holds good only so long as the present sto of books lasts. When this stock is gone the offer will not renewed. Address, STREET & SMITE GOOD NEwsS, 27-29 Rose St., NEW yO} a BP nerWnT ue ss —=: JR aed GooDp (This Story Will Not be Published in Book-Form., } MoE PLUCK OF A PILOT: OR, Pr Alin Of ih GREAT LAKES: By LIEUT. LIONEL LOUNSBERRY, Author of “Lieut. Carey’s Luck,” “Midshipman Merrill,” ‘Won at West Point,” ete. “Te PLUCK OF A PILOT” was commenced in No. 211. Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.) | hide in one of the coves, and whena | vessel comes along they sneak out, and { board it.” | “Well, HEN Ben saw his chum disap- | craft.” pear from sight—dragged from! “Yes, and we must see what damage his position on the mysterious} has been done.” schooner’s rail by some invisi- | 3 CHAPTER X. THE LAKE THIEVES. they evidently surprised this ce) tam bled up the ves- NEWS. plied our hero. way they went.” Running up the ladder leading-to the top of the deck-house, he glanced toward | the land. but failed to see any trace of | the pirates in that direction. Then, looking toward the Dragon, he saw to his horror and amazement that the long, narrow boat filled with its cut- throat crew gangway. “Great Scott! they are going to board yaw! all of you. We must get back before they capture it.” Springing to the deck, he ran to the waist, and, followed by Ben and the rest, tumbled pell-mell into the boat. “Hurry, men, hurry!” Randy gasped. “Fool that Iam, not to think of their boarding the Dragon.” | Seizing an oar, he set the stroke, and ithe frail craft fairly flew through the | water. As they moved away from the schooner, Telling the mate and his men to release | they heard the harsh clank of the pumps, ble person—he gave a cry of rage, and'the sailors, who were lying about the! and knew that strenuous efforts were be- “Wait; I'll see which | was just pulling up to the| the yacht!” he shouted. “Quick! man the | 3417 voice, and as an earnest of their intention a bullet struck the yawl with a discour- aging spat. Randy instantly saw that his party was at a great disadvantage. He and his men were fully exposed to the fire of the ruffians, while they could shelter themselves behind the upper works of the Dragon. And they were also undoubtedly well armed, while he could only boast of one revolver. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but he ordered the sailors to turn back toward {the schooner, and to make haste if they valued their lives. “Confound it! they have uson the hip!” he muttered, addressing Ben. “It would be sheer madness and folly to try and re- capture the yacht in this manner.’ “We'd all be killed before we reached the side.” “Certainly. Now, all we can do is to board the schooner again and see if the old skipper has any rifles or other fire- arms. “By George! the villains are getting the Dragon under way $ side, N reaching the top mt the bulwarks, he W a strange and Bost thrilling sight ——_ ES €ad out before m, i Scattered about the ck were four or five Tv. hot bound hand and th bt, and over near : bt entrance to the pein, was the red: iskered man, Mtetched full length ©n the hard wood, lig apparently life- Au this was seen ha glance, as Ben nc but little time in qych to attend to tails. His services were re- itired elsewhere, and Drdiately, too. hi rectly in front of 4 he saw Randy posting with a wart, ree ing man who femed to be trying Hh natch the pistol ™ his grasp tering a shout of ‘ hy, ttagement, Ben {ne to the deck, » grabbing} a_ be- Ng-nin from the darted to his *s assistance. \ © stranger saw 1 me Coming, and, br Aching himself - from Randy, ran € other side of ~ Schooner. ty, 2, with a deri- yell, he mounted i, Dulwarks and dis- ; Map ored just as the aq” of the Dragon } he sailors came y ,sht. fy vrick ! after him; CE Pe Tes iil i HITT cx ss os Ty F let them es- prec! exclaimed bad panting for hye ot h . They are ®thieves, and have fm ue this schooner.” lh hey?” asked Ben, 4mazement. “Are at More than one?” tq >) three or four, again !” cried Ben, ex- citedly, pointing to a dense column of smoke pouring from the yacht’s rakish funnel, The sight caused Randy to leap to his feet in dismay. It had never oc- curred to him that an effort would be made to move the craft. He knew that Ful- ton — stubborn man that he was—would die rather than aid the pirates, even in- voluntarily, and that an engineer would be found among the ras- cals was almost pre- posterous. Still there could be no doubt but what some one understood the working of an engine, as the yacht soon began to move slowly ahead. Randy was now in as great a haste to reach the schooner as he had been to leave it a few moments pre- vious. He knew that his only hope of saving the Dragon was to secure aid from the other vessel, and he involuntarily glanced at the schooner’s lines to see if she promised speed, “it will be a chase with the odds against us,” he muttered; “but if we can only manage to keep the yacht in sight, I will be satisfied.” Iie noted with joy that the wind was freshening; and _cer- tain feathery clouds in the eastern quarter indicated a favorable increase. Only one shot had been fired by the thieves, as that had produced the desired results. When they saw the yawl turned around, GAMMA i ] 2 g 7 ; boat Ust in time to see a long, narrow | deck bound hand and foot, Randy turned Sweep around the bow. | his attention to the red-whiskered man, Harte were five rough-looking men in| apparently the captain. 3 Loy Nd the one with whom our hero had| He was still insensible, and a bright | ment Was steering. jred streak across his forehead showed | | that he had been wounded. Procuring some water from the scuttle- butt, Randy bathed his face, and soon | had the satisfaction of seeing him open thle boy pilot’s party had barely shown m 7 “ya ; r by, Selves above the rail, when the fel- ng OX the stern hastily drew a revolver, ood point blank at the schooner. thes bullet whistled harmlessly over | his eyes. hing leads, but every one dodged back- In the meantime, Ben had searched the Th Mstinctively. |cabin, and, just as the skipper revived, fy ot Randy cocked his pistol and re-| he came running out with the startling ty, od the compliment, but without suc- | ery: “The schooner is sinking! She has been scuttled !” “How do you know?” hastily replied | Randy, starting to his feet. ”) “JT heard the water bubbling and rip- It’s puuring in like | | Si; | bill firing, the boat swept on until it | Mj, Sisappeared around the starboard My } the schooner. Miq Jere isn’t any use of chasing them, Ys andy, “they are too well armed for| pling in the hold. “Rh } everything.” Oy tecy coming across a lot of pirates} “Thank Heaven, you came aboard in 1@ lake,” remarked Ben, evidently | time!” spoke up the skipper, feebly. “In o : janother minute we would have all been Sonn there are any number of them up | killed. Where did the scoundrels gow” “nied “They rowed away in their boat, and the northern shores of Michigan,” : ; andy, “They band together, and | have probably started for the shore,” re- qj, “ey have a boat Mgside,” 0] low ed by the WITH A SUDDEN CRASH, THE DOOR WAS BURST OPEN, AND TWO OF THE THIEVES, ARMED WITH BELAYING-PINS, H.? Randy ran to 7 RUSHED INTO THE ROOM! e raj] ‘d ol 1d Oy » and glance¢ and rowed away in evident haste, they sent a derisive shout after the defeated ing made by the crew to save their vessel. | party, and disappeared into the interior. The distance to the Dragon was not; over five cable lengths, but béfore the yawl had covered one-third of it, Randy realized that they would be too late. He saw the ruffians leave their cutter, and swarm over the graceful yacht, and ithen he saw Fulton, the engineer, meet them in the gangway only to be stricken down by. a brutal stroke from the buté of a pistol. “They have captured the Dragon, Ben,” A few moments later Randy and his companions reached the schooner, and climbed on board, being met at the gang- way by the skipper. “It’s-a blasted shame ye were beaten off,” he exclaimed, then impotently shak- ing his fist at the distant yacht, headded, heartily: “They haven’t got the best of us yet, imy lad. We’ll get sail on this old hooker, he almost groaned; “but the pirates will | never loot her as long as Iam alive,” “Ah! they’ve caught the cook and stew- ard,” shouted Ben, in. his excitement. “Now they have complete control of the —look out! they’re going to fire at us!” The sailors in the yaw] instinctively ceased rowing, and craned their heads in | an effort to see the yacht, Three of the lake thieves had taken their stand forward near the pilot-house, and, with leveled revolvers, were men- acing the approaching boat. “Keep away from here, or we'll blow and chase ‘em to the ends of the ’arth!” CHAPTER XI. A LUCKY ACCIDENT. HANK you!” replied Randy, grasp- ing the old sntlies hand, “I knew that I could rely upon you. You are too much like my foster-father, ew ) thy , I 3 us Captain Dick Bainbridge, to——” yer out of the water!” shouted @ hoarse | “What! air ye the ’dopted. son of old Dick?” hastily interrupted the skipper. “Then ye must be Randy, the boy pilot.” “That is what they call me, sir.” “Well, will I help ye? I guess yes! 3418 Here, you men for’ard there; set the fore- gail and jib! Hoist the mains]! A hand to the wheel! Lively there, men!” Bawling the orders at the top of his voice, the old mariner ran to the mizzen, and gave a hand himself at the spanker halyards. Randy, Ben, and the men from the yacht did not remain idle, but turned to with a will, and before many seconds had elapsed the schooner was moving through the water at a spanking rate. ; “We found the place where them vil- lains scuttled the schooner,” said the skipper, presently. “They had bored a hole amidships, and the water was a-pouring in by the ton, but we plugged it up, and now my craft is as sound as a dollar.” “Tt was certainly fortunate we hap- pened along when we did,” remarked Randy. ; “Yes, and I consider we owe our lives to you, my lad,” replied the old mariner, fervently. “But yerisked yer purty yacht, and all for us. Howsomever, I'll hel ye to git her back, if it costs every cent own.” The little partv had taken their station on the extreme point of the forecastle, from where they could watch the move- ments of the Dragon. , The yacht was rapidly increasing the distance between the two vessels, and our hero realized with a sinking of the heart that sail power stood little chance with steam. ; “By George! I’d give a year’s salary if we had a small cannon and some ammu- nition on this schooner,” he exclaimed, half to himself. The skipper of the schooner glanced thoughtfully at Randy for a moment, and then slapping his thigh, shouted jovfully: “Why, consarn my picture! we've got jest the thing. In my cargo is a small brass gun and a case of powder going to Milwaukee.” “Where is it, sir? Can’t you break it out right away?” asked Randy, in great excitement, “Yes;and get all the nails and old bolts you have on board,” chimed in Ben. “We'll have a naval battle in a jiffy, and open the eyes of those pirates.” Before he had finished his remark, the old skipper was on his way aft, and in fifteen minutes the sailors were spiking the cannon to the edge of the forecastle. It was a very small piece of ordnance, but considerably better than nothing under the circumstances, and Randy hailed its appearance with a whoop of oy. 3 The boatswain managed to discover at least a couple of kegs of bolts and scraps of iron, which he placed at our hero's disposal, By this time the Dragon had drawn away until she was fully a mile distant. Seeing that he must accomplish some- thing immediately or give up the at- tempt, Randy carefully aimed the can- non, and pulled the lanyard, There was a_ loud explosion, and then those gathered on the forecastle saw a flurry of white water just astern of the acht. aS onfound it! the charge fell too short,” exclaimed the young pilot, disappoint- edly. “But you have awakened them,” added Ben, with achuckle. “See how they run out of the cabin. Ha! there is Fulton!” Before the echoes of the report had died away, the entire gang of pirates had made their appearance, darting from the interior of the yacht in evident haste. They appeared greatly exeited, and stared at the schooner as if scarcely be- lieving their ears. Suddenly the engineer of the Dragon rushed from the engine-room, and, bound- ing upon the starboard rail, plunged boldly into the lake. “He has escaped from the ruffians,” cried Randy. “By George! they are shooting at him.” The sharp crack of a pistol-shot came across the water, immediately followed by a whole volley, but none of the bullets seemed to have taken effect. — The gang of pirates blazed away at the daring swimmer, evidently intent on kill- ing him in their rage. “We must pick the brave fellow up as. - we pass,” said the skipper. “He’s defied - the whole lot of them, and deserves a medal for it, blamed if he don’t!” “There they go again piling on more coal,” added Ben, pointing to an in- creased volume of smoke trailing astern of the vacht. In the meantime, Randy had reloaded the cannon, but he intended rescuing the engineer before firing another charge, The schooner was now bowling along at arate speaking well for her power in that direction, The lofty sails had been stretched until they stood up like flat- tened boards, and several of the crew were hard at work tossing bucket after bucket of water on the canvas to increase the drawing capacity, To those not understanding the effect thus obtained, it is well to state that dry canvas, no matter how closely woven, permits the passage of the wind, while if wettened, even slightly, the threads swell and form a compact surface. Aided by this device, the schooner soon covered the distance to where the engineer was still struggling in the water, and then rounded to within a few yards of him. A rope was skillfully thrown by the old skipper, and, a moment later, Fulton stood on the deck safe and sound. After recovering from the effect of his unwonted exertion he strode up to Randy, and said in his characteristic way : “Nice fix, eh? yacht gone; pirates in charge; loot her; ruin everything; break my engine; huh!” “Yes, you are right, Fulton,” replied Randy, disconsolately. “We are in a pretty bad fix, but I tbpink we’ll recover the Dragon all right. How did you es- cape?” “Humph! got knocked down first thing; taken to engine-room; told to start her up: said go to the duse; whacked me again; then they gaveit up; started it themselves; when you fired gun, they scooted on deck; so did 1; jumped in lake; you picked me up; here I am,” This remarkable statement was de- livered in short jerky sentences, and seemed so funny that the old skipper had to look over the side to hide his grins. Fulton was perfectly serious, however, and moreover, in a towering rage at his situation, “Do you know what they intend to do with the yacht?” asked Randy, preparing to discharge the cannon for the second time. “No; probably run her ashore some- where across the lake; hope they drown when they strike bottom,” replied Fulton, savagely. “TI echo that wish,” exclaimed Ben, shaking his fist at the distant vessel. “Well, well see if we can’t shake them up a little even before that hap- pens,” said our hero, carefully aiming the gun. He waited until a slight swell lifted the schooner, and then jerked the firing lanyard. This time the charge of old nails and bolts struck the mark, and the after end of the deck-house was seen to fly intoa mass of splinters. “By Jove! that was a whacker!” cried Ben, clapping his hands, “That dose will make them sick of their job, sure.” “It was pretty good, but I would like to reach the engines and disable her,” re- plied Randy.’ “No, no; don’t do it, sir,” interrupted Fulton, anxiously; “don’t hurt the ma- chinery; knock the pilot-house; wreck the cabin; smash the galley, but don’t break the engines.” Our hero paid little attention to the ap- peal, which he knew came from the eccen- tric engineer's peculiar liking for his steam pets. ‘ Randy rightly considered it far better to keep the hull intact, even at the ex- a of all the other parts, and he fully elieved the pirates would run ashore in a place where the Dragon would be com- pletely wrecked. The effect of the last shot was hardly encouraging. As before, the thieves swarmed from the interior and stared atthe schooner, then returned to the engine-room and re- plenished the fires, The sight of the dense volume of smoke ee on Fulton like a red rag to a wild ull. He stormed and raged about the fore- castle, until at last Randy was afraid he would jump overboard, and try to swim back to the yacht. Our hero was just on the point of soothing him whena faint crash came from the rapidly moving Dragon, and she heeled over until hen Youeats was al- most awash, Then those watching from the schooner saw the five ruffians suddenly appear on the deck, and cluster in a group near the ow. A cloud of steam emerging from the engine-room instantly told the story to the experienced engineer, and he cried, exultantly: “Ha! they’ve done it at last! cylinder busted; engine disabled; now we've got them; get your clubs!” CHAPTER XII. REVOLT OF THE PRISONERS, Ls 7 \ULTON was undoubtedly right in t his statement. The Dragon had s stopped moving ahead, and now “<"* lay tossing at the mercy of the athe faint hiss of-th e fain Ss 0. @ escaping steam could be plainly heard, ned the thick Soe cloud almost hid the yacht from sight. | Only the extreme end of the bow was visible, and on it. the pirates were still clustered, glancing anxiously at the ap- proaching schooner, NEWS. Randy was in ecstacies. He shook hands with his chum and all his companions, and then called for a round of cheers, which was given with a Viln. “Get all the small arms you can scrape together,” he directed, reloading his own weapon, “Captain, bring your vessel within a fair pistol-shot and then heave to. We’ve got the rascals, and I’ll curn what’s left of them over to the authorities before many hours.” “Why not hang them?” suggested Ben, seriously. Every one laughed at the blood-thirsty proposition, and Randy shook his head reluctantly. “They have got to go through the courts, old boy,” he said. “But thev will receive an adequate punishment, never fear, Ah! we are almost near enough, Steady now.” The schooner stood gallantly on the course for a moment longer, and then came to the wind with sails aback. Running up the fore rigging a few feet, Randy leveled his revolver at the group of pirates, and called out in a stern voice: “Surrender, or we'll blow you out of the water !” One of the party stepped forward, and sullenlv replied: : “We'll give up, if you put us ashore.” “Not a_bié of it,” promptly replied Randy. “If you don’t surrender peaceably we'll shoot every one of you; and, if you do, you will have to take your chances with the law ashore. I'll give you just ten seconds in which to answer, What do you say?” This determined speech ruffians to storm with rage, and one of them suddenly jerked a pistol from his coat, and fired point-blank at Randy, The bullet struck directly under his feet, severing the ratline upon which he was standing, and for a brief moment the lad hung by his hands, fully exposed to the treacherous enemy. It is probable the villains would have shot him had not Ben and the rest poured a volley into the group, The angry crack-crack of their revolvers was followed by a chorus of groans, and two of the pirates were seen to fall upon the deck of the Dragon. Then the old skipper ruskKed from his cabin with an antiquated blunderbuss, loaded to the muzzle with a charge of slugs, and he would have finished the task if Randy had not bade him cease. “T’m all right,” he exclaimed. “They didn’t succeed in their miserable attempt, no thanks to them. But we mustn’t slaughter the fellows in cold blood, I'll give them another chance.” “Mercy wasted,” spoke up Fulton, loud- ly. “Kill them; rid the lakes of the gang.” But Randy secured another position in the rigging, and again ‘demanded the surrender of the pirates. This time they complied, but it was evidently with very bad grace. At our hero’s direction they tossed their weapons into the lake, and then held up their hands, while a boat was lowered from the schooner, After seeing his men embarked, Randy turned to the old skipper and shook his hand, ' “I’m a thousand times obliged for your an in recovering the yacht,” he said. “If “Don’t thank me, my lad,” interrupted the honest mariner. “I am the cause of your getting into trouble as it is. If old Cudlipp says anything about the damages to pave craft, just tell him to send his bill to me. Where be ye going to take the scamps?” “Detroit, I think, We are bound there, and, if Fulton can repair the engines, we'll steer direct for that port. Well, good-by! I’ll tell the authorities that you are a witness to the villainous work of these pirates.” . After asking the captain to keep the group of men covered while he was pass- Ing between the two vessels, Randy shoved off, and soon. ran alongside the eye t was like a “home-coming” to him and he breathed a deep sigh Of relief on stepping foot on the yacht’s deck. If we had lost the craft, I’d never have Sailed the lakes again,” he said to Ben, “and I guess old Dick would have emees me, too.” “Well, everything is all right again barring the damage to the SeGhi-Hones ye i eee his chum, as y walke oward the li thieves a ttle group of ey were greeted with sullen frowns and muttered oaths, but Randy sternly ordered them to hold their tongues, and then saw that each was bound in the no manner, n the meantime Fulton and ‘the mate a ps es =~ et engines, baa atter in sea x steward, earch of the cook and he two servants were found i pantry almost frightened out of si scanty wits, and neither would move a caused the) et or a Or eer ES a step until assured that the ruffians bi been rendered harmless. Randy examined the wounded pirat and after ascertaining that both we not in great danger from their injure locked the whole gang in the forecasile® with two men as guards over them. The latter were well armed, and ordé to shoot on the slightest sign of an @ tempt to escape. Then our hero visited the engine-roo with Ben, They found Fulton hard at work repa ing the cylinder, and Randy saw at glance that he could hope for a speé completion of the task. After watching the taciturn enginé and his assistants for a moment, asked: “Do you think we can get up steam ¥ fore long, Fulton?” “Um! two hours,” was all the la vouchsafed in reply. The time was well calculated, and, before dark, the Dragon was again und way, en route to her destination, _ The schooner had stood by until doubts bad been settled, and when t on board saw the saucy yacht steam Pp they sent a hearty cheer of congratulath avi her, which was .returned with will. Randy remained at his post in pilot-house all that night, and only ™ linquished the wheel to the mate wH& daylight finally appeared. The youm commander felt the vast responsibi ity resting upon his shoulders through presence on board of the pirates, when he finally retired to snatch a} moments of rest, he cautioned his rel in most emphatic terms, Ben had remained on watch with him and, accordingly, retired at the same ti so the yacht was left in sole charge of mate. Worn out from his long vigil, Ram immediately fell asleep, and did awaken until several hours later, then only because of a sudden hubbu heard on deck, Still drowsy with slumber, he sat up the edge of the bunk, and listened. Ben, who occupied «a cot in the sa” cabin, also sprang to his feet in alarms “What in the duse was that? asked. “It sounded like a——” He was interrupted by a hoarse § apparently from the pilot-house, and t the voice of the mate was heard cal for help in evident terror. Grasping a revolver from the ta Randy dashed toward the door, an just in the act of opening it, whe iron spike came crashing through panel, passing within a few inches 0 0) head. “Great Scott! the prisoners have f themselves!” he exclaimed, appreheD ly. “Quick! Ben; get that other gun, prepare to defend yourself.” ane The words had hardly left his di when, with a sudden crash, the door burst open, and there on the thres stood two of the lake pirates, armed belaying-pins, : “Come out of that, and give yers* up!” shouted one, making a pass at D4" with his weapon. “We've got th’ hoo® ag’in, and’li——” Bang! went Randy’s pistol, speaker dropped to the floor. The other stepped back in affright, then turned to run, but before he © take more than a couple of step5, lads were upon him. z Ben had secured the revolver ment! by his chum, and now proceeded to ¥ as a club, unfortunately having fou? weapon unloaded. e A sharp blow on the pirate’s cra”! sent him to the deck, where he lay a a8 of his mate, entirely out 0 gent. ( Seeing that both were hors de com’ Randy exclaimed: . “To the pilot-house after the othe! low, Ben! Knock him down, if you © sight of the scoundrel.” Making their way forward, the cautiously advanced to the pilot door and peered in. Lying stretched out upon the floor the mate, insensible, but of the re? ing thief not a sign was visible. |, a “We must search the yacht, © Randy. “You take the starboard and I'll go——” He was interruped by acry of ™ fear, which seemed to come fro after part of the fire. room, Running in that direction, Rand3 his chum looked down between thé bars forming the grating, and bet spectacle which caused them t0 é back with overwhelming amazeme? horror, and (TO BE CONTINUED.) JUAN FERNANDEZ, the island on “Robinson Crusoe” lived for many, is now inhabited. by people who d huts. Catching and drying fish am ing cattle and vegetables are t vocations followed by the natives- GoowDp tis Story will not be Published in Book-Form.] LITTLE HICKORY OF THE (OUNTAIN EXPRESS: OR, SWITCH-YARD TO LEVER. BY VICTOR ST. CLAIR, Pe) Or of ‘Zig-Zag, the Boy Conjurer,” “The Young Stone-Cutter,’”’ ete. fits ieee MTLE HICKORY OF THR MOUNTAIN EXPRESS” Minenced in No, 207. Back numbers can be ae of all News Agents.) ‘' CHAPTER XXII. |THE MAN AT THE WINDOW. MI'TLE HICKORY was unable to understand what had become of ¢the engineer and the fireman, hough he realized that the situa- s fraught with great danger. 7 was no station for more than ten ithe entire distance being an al- Continual descent, while the many | Curves and twists in the track were MNual menace to their safety. Kes the peril .to all on board, the S$ sure to carry terror and death 4s it went. Tignt of way belonged to them only Second station, and after that who Yell. what would ar pent He these thoughts flashed through Hickory’s mind, the train had in- “its momentum at a fearful rate, farcontaining the passengers shook Cked so every one was at the height sor; Gentleman Carl no calmer tian Lers, fot be alarmed, gentlemen,” said ~ Hickory. “I think Ican get. the Inder control in a short time.” me, boy!” exclaimed the ponder- -president, who did not seem common man, then, “and I will ou handsomely. But in Heaven’s 0 it quick !” Out stopping to hear the conclu- Vice-President Buxton Swallow's » Little Hickory stepped out upon “torm, and climbed to the top of At car with the agility of a cat. Wain was still increasing its wild 1¢ head-light shooting through St like a meteor. ther brakemen had already ap- @ brakes without any visible tif the train would hold to the “itil Little Hickory could gain the ythey would be saved. “€ to stand upright, the brave Tawled as rapidly as possiblealong erous course in a remarkably le, until he had reached the tent later he dropped upon the Td, and his hand was on the re- 4ever, while a glad cry left his © longer dreaded the runaway, #8 now under his guidance. listled for brakes, which at the]. “he told those on the train that he “hed the cab, and that the danger Hickory quickly checked the on- Wsh of the throbbing iron horse, allowed it to sweep on at a tre- Ss Yate, for he had an object in do- Salready trying to devise some Pture che disguised train-robber, ,00n hit upon a plan which he be- Suld be worked successfully. » re rapidly approaching a sta- d Flume. Furnace, where he ed there would be help enough j-2. capture the outlaw before he vine their intentions, “ngly the moment he had brought € to a stop, he sprang down platform and rushed into the ‘the master just inside the door, Quickly told what was wanted. immediately shook his head, at there were not men enough Place to capture the desperado. legraph ahead to Milesburg, them be in readiness for him we vet there.” © other agreed to do, and un- little freight to be left here, i kory gave his directions to the nd a fireman and started on for a=) 4ll inside of ten minutes, Noticed that Dennett was aboard Oment of starting, so he felt lat his capture would be effected Dennett was too wily a fox to tapping, and whether he had -“ the plans laid to seize him, or & part of his intentions, when began to slow up at this sta- tion, he slipped out of the car and disap- peared, When the officer and his there, he could not be found. Mr. Anderson was among the most sur- prised ones, when he stepped from the express a few minutes later to learn what had happened. It proved that both the engineer and fireman had been new men, and that they had become rattled the moment the train started down the heavy grade, so they had partly jumped and partly tumbled from the cab, leaving the engine to its fate. Of course, it was necessary for Little Hickory to act as engineer until Lock Haven was reached, when he received the hearty thanks of all on the train. Mr. Swallow, he found, had changed to the express at Milesburg. As soon as he could without being heard by the others, Little Hickory de- scribed to Mr. Anderson the scene he had experienced with the vice-president, when the conductor burst into a fit of laughter. “It's just like Swallow. You served him just right, too. I should have done the same, and the chances are he would have discharged me if I hadn’t. Don’t worry about losing your job. You have gut friends as well as enemies. Shall I see you in the morning?” “If Mr. Swallow doses not object.” Feeling in better spirits after his talk with Mr, Anderson, Little Hickory sought posse got | his home, to find to his surprise a sealed packet awaiting him there, which he opened immediately, thinking it might be something of importance. Perhaps it was important. At any rate, it gave him food for very much hard thinking. It contained a small piece of paper bearing this message, short and pointed: “Tf you mean to quit, why don’t you? We will give you three days longer of grace. If you value your life, make yourself scarce be- fore that time.” The missive was not signed, and after reading it tbree or four times, he was about to tear it into shreds, when he thought it might be best for him to keep it. “T believe I can trust Mr. Lord, and I will let him see it.” .« He next turned his mind to the monev he had with him, and, knowing that he would not be safe with it should any one learn that he had it, he laid it carefully under his pillow, and soon after fell into an uneasy slumber, He dreamed that he was.a young boy again, and that his father was engineer on the Mountain Express, that his mother was living, and that life had none of its cares and stern battles for him to fight. Then a shadow came over the scene, and he was taken to the home of his heartless uncle, aad his father and mother were both gone. Again he was driven out of his uncle’s house, to seek his fortune in the world. And then he seemed to be the engineer on Grizzly Van’s Mountain Eagle, and among the passengers on the train was his uncle. Something followed which he could not understand, He awoke with a shudder, and, as he opened his eyes, he saw the figure of a man framed in the window. CHAPTER XXIII. THE SUPERSTITIOUS ENGINEER. 21TTLE HICKORY’S first thought was to cry for help, but he wisely maintained silence, while he saw the intruder move, and he knew he was not dreaming now. Some one was breaking into his room after the money. If the robber had any companions, they were not to be seen, and knowing that if he acted at all it must be promptly, Little Hickory drew himself together, and, with all the strength he could command, he leaped out toward the man. A sharp cry came from the latter, and he threw up one hand to defend himself against his assailant. Then he slipped from his precarious footing, and, thraw- ing up his arms, went backward down the ladder he was ascending. The clatter of the ladder, as that went crashing to the ground, half-drowned the cries of the baffled robber, and then a silence settled upon the scene. Peering anxiously out of the window, Little Hickory caught the glimpse of some one disappearing around the corner of the house. The commotion quickly called some of the other occupants of the house to the scene, to whom Little Hickory gave a brief account of the attempted robbery. Whoever the thief might have been, he succeeded in eluding all pursuit, though little sleep followed his nocturnal visit. Early in the morning Little Hickory made a business call. He had known of a house in Lock Haven he could buy on the installment plan, providing he had something to pay down. With the five hundred dollars he had received from the railroad company, he resolved to make ~ eas NEWS. the trade, feeling confident he could meet | his payments as they became due. | “Buying it to speculate on?” asked the | owner, good-naturedly, as Little Hickory | counted out the money. “No, sir; I intend to make it my future home. A lady living at Moshannon will | live there, too, I think.” It had been his plan to have Mrs. Has- tings sell her place on Bitter Root road | und come to Lock Haven, investing, if she wished, the proceeds of the sale in the house with him, Little Hickory’s next movement was to | hasten to the railroad office to meet Mr. | Swallow, as he had been requested. | That pompous official was evidently | awaiting his appearance, though he ap- | peared indifferent .enough, as he ex- claimed: “What name did you say, young man?” “Caswell, sir. L was brakeman on the mixed yesterday.” | “Ah! the impudent scamp who acted as conductor on ie down trip?” “T acted in that capacity, sir, as far as | Milesburg.” | “And made me, the vice-president of | this corporation, pay fare on my own | train.” “LT simply obeyed one of the rules you helped make, sir.” | “Who is finding fault, young man? All ILask of you is to obey your orders as well every time. You are made of just the stuff I like to have in men. Let’s see, your father was an engineer?” CB, Bila “One of the best we ever had, too. We) will make an engineer of you before you | have reached the age of man. Report, | sir, to-morrow to Engineer Darrow on the Long Freight. That is all.” With this brusque dismissal, the vice- | president left Little Hickory nothing to} do but to retire. - He was both vexed and pleased by this} meeting, the first feeling soon wearing | away, while he felt that at last he had fairly entered upon regulary work. He was | satisfied, too, that Mr. Swallow was more} of a gentleman and friend than he seemed. | Without further delay, he started to} report to Mr. Darrow, who he anticipated must be the new engineer on Mr. Ander- son’s train. The latter was anxiously awaiting him. “T congratulate you on your appoint- ment,” he greeted. “I know we couldn’t do better. Come, and I will introduce you to Darrow. He is a new man on this road, though he comes pretty well recom- mended, The truth is, for some reason or other, we are pretty hard up for help just now.” Little Hickory was not very favorably impressed with his new associate, who was.a tian past the prime of life, judging by his whitened hair and care-worn face, though he greeted the young fireman quite cordially. Fox Darrow, it seemed, had recently come froma train on the Pacific slope, where he had run an engine for several years. Before that he had been on one of the roads running into Mexico, so it was evident he had seen his part of a life on the foot-boards. Generally, however, he was very reticent in regard to his past career, so that our hero had been with him a week before he had learned this much, : All the while he had noticed that there was something peculiar in the man’s ac- tion. One day he would complain that his engine was out of sorts and would not obey him as he wanted; the next trip he utd not speak for the en ire-dis- tance., These morose spells would be sure to be followed by bursts of wild merri- ment, when he would sing exciting songs and dance like a crazy man to and fro as he shouted his songs. Little Hickory paid as little attention, as he could to these varying moods, and gave strict account to his work. “Boy, do you believe in dreams?” sud- denly asked Darrow, as they were bound- ing along the steady grade leading from highlands to the sharper descent above Mary’s Furnace. The question was the more startling as the engineer had not spoken before since they had left Tyrone, but stood at his post as rigid as if cut from marble. “T asked if you believed in dreams,” re- peated his companion, more sharply this time. “Excuse me, Mr. Darrow, but [ did not understand your question at first. Ido not believe in dreams, though some- times——” “Sometimes! What is the use to speak inthat way. I know that dreams come true; and I have had the strangest dream to-day you ever heard.. Oh, you needn’t stare so, for I had this dream while I was wide awake! And if dreams come true that are dreamed when men are sleeping, how much more sure they are to repeat themselves when seen with open eyes. “While we skim this valley, I will tell you this dream of mine, for it concerns you as well as me. Listen: “T dreamed that I was running an en- _ 8419 just such a helper as you. The distance was the same as 'tis between Lock Haven and Tyrone. I thought we were return- ing home as we are now. Everything had gone well through the day, but as the night began to settle down the old engine began to sulk. “I talked to her kindly, but coaxing was of no avail. My. fireman fed her till she was fit to burst, and she puffed, and panted, and blowed like an over-driven horse with the heaves, “After balking and bothering in this way, as.only a sulky engine can, I thought she took to jumping the track. Nothing I could do would keep her on her feet. Tor rods ata time she would bound right into the air. “As she flew off in one of these tan- trums, | caught sight of some one sitting on the cow-catcher. Then, as she got back upon her feet, 1 saw that the uncanny rider was Death ! “I don’t like dreams like that, boy,” and the narrator wiped great beads of perspiration from his forehead, while his face had become as whiteas a sheet. The hand onthe lever trembled, and a mist seemed to come before his eyes, for he brushed his hands across them several times. “A friend of mine, who was running on the Santa Fe and Old Town Road, had just such a dream, and he dreamed it standing as I did, andon that very tripa woman in white rode on the cow-catcher for miles. “Tom, that was my _ friend's name, knowed that he was a doomed man, but 3 stood at his post like a hero until the ast.” The bronzed and bearded man, who had passed a quarter of a century on duty, suddenly stopped speaking, though his lips still moved. His left hand rested firmly on the lever, while with the other he shaded his eyes as he gazed fixedly into the space ahead. An unknown. dread crept into Little Hickory’s heart, and we know that he was no coward. The other’s words and manner had had a strange effect upon him. In the midst of this impressive scene the steady throb, throb of the engine and the roar of the rushing train sounding not unlike tbe thunder of some distant cataract, the iron, horse suddenly began to jump, followed by a lurch as if it was leaving the rails. “Good Lord !” cried Darrow, “it’s come!” CHAPTER XXIV. THE ENGINE STOWAWAYS. e~ ay N a moment the engine settled down if to a smooth run, though Little Hick- a ory realized that they were not > making the usual speed. This fact seemed to be known to the conductor, for at that moment the little gong over the engineer’s head rang smartly, asking for greater speed. “Hang him!” muttered Darrow, “I am doing my best. Give her more fuel, buy.” Little Hickory glanced at the gauge to see that the pointer stood at 123 degrees, within two of what the engine was capa- ble of standing. Certainly it was not a fault of his. What, then, was the trouble? Engineer’s are not, as a rule, supersti- tious, and still many times they come to believe that an evil spirit presides over their destiny. It iscaused no doubt by the steady strain upon their nerves in their constant watchfulness, continually looking for something and seeing—noth- ing. In defense of Fox Darrow, let me say © that the best engineers will tell you that engines do sulk sometimes. Old No. 9— engines are generally called “old” even on their maiden trip by their masters— on this particular occasion seemed: to be doing her level best. The driving-rods were shooting to and fro in perfect play, and the huge drivers were rolling in clock-like regularity. In fact, everything seemed in grand working shape, and yet they were moving along at what appeared to them a snail’s pace. Determined to do his part, Little Hick- ory turned to the big pile of coal, and be- gan to shovel it into the fiery maw of the roaring furnace, As he flung open wide the door, the fire cast a dazzling glare over the cab and back even to the cars. Working in this red light, Little Hick- ory had not taken his third shovel of coal before he saw an unexpected object protruding from the cavity he had scooped out. It was a man’s foot! Little Hickory was quick to understand that there was more than a foot, or a leg even, in that pile of coal, for a closer look aoe him the outline of the limb and ody. He fancied that the foot moved slightly, but it may have been nothing but the falling coal. If there was one man hiding in the coal, might there not be others? gine on just such aroad as this, with Fearful that this might be the case, S420 and that an alarm would precipitate a crisis in affairs, he kept at his task to wait a favorable opportunity to apprise his companion of their unknown passen- gers. ; 3 : Darrow was still staring into the space ahead, as if his life depended upon the intensity with which he maintained his vigil. Little Hickory cou the hand holding the quiver, while the fingers wor sively. ‘The dread in his heart grew heavier as he realized that the engineer was not like himself. He desisted from ld see the muscles on lever contract and moving more coal, keeping as close a watch as he could, without attracting attention, over the foot in the coal-biu, and upon the engineer as well. Little Hickory in this startling situa- | tion had one thing to give him hope; and that was the fact that they were to stop at Mary’s Furnace, which they were due to reach inside of five minutes. — Again the little gong rang spitefully, as if the conductor's impatience was in- creasing. eine enaineer shook his grizzled head and moved the lever spasmodically, with- out turning his gaze from the front. _ | Those were anxious five minutes to Lit- tle Hickory : Mary’s Furnace suddenly shone like eyes in the night, and he breathed a prayer of relief that the suspense was almost over, The next minute the engine shot past the rambling dwellings and coal-sheds, past the station, past the grim walls of the iron works, on and on. “Hold!” cried Little Hickory, “we are to stop here! This is Mary's Furnace. The gong rang fiercely for the train to stopped. ee as !" cried Darrow. “To stop is death! A phantom rides on the pilot, and we must outstrip him! More fuel, boy, more fnel! She leaps, ae flies! Tom was on just such a trip as this.” : Little Hickory Pacee to feel that his situation was getting desperate, while the train flew on with increasing speed, telling that the engine had aroused from her stupor, if her master had not. _ In the midst of his wild speculations, Little Hickory saw three dark, round ob- jects rise from the midst of the coal. _ But before he could cry out or move In self-defense, without the least warning, the train ca:e to an abrupt stop. The engine puffed and panted, while the wheels went round with a loud, whirring sound, without biting the iron or getting ahead an inch. ; “It’s come!” shrieked the excited en- gineer, leaping from the cab, without stopping to shut off the steam, which was fighting an unequal battle with un- known powers, (T0 BE CONTINUED.) —————_<>_+— > Saving the Building and Loan Money. BY E. E. YOUMANS. ——~———— AUL, I want you to go down to the Building and Loan with this money to-night,” said Mrs. Brown, as she came into the room where her son was seated reading a book. “I’d go my- self, but I expect Mrs. Carson here to see me, and must be on hand when she comes. I guess you can attend to it all right enough, don’t you think so?” “Sure,” said the youth, laying aside his book; “I'll start at once.” He secured his hat, and prepared to leave. . “Look out you don’t lose the money,” cautioned his mother. “There are fifty dollars in the roll.” “No fear,” answered Paul; and a mo- ment later he was on bis way down the road, : The place where the Building and Loan Association met was atasmall village some two miles from Mrs. Brown’s farm, and it was necessary for Paul to pass through a lonely woods on the way. This he did not mind, however, for he ‘was used to the road, and had often gone through the woods at night, It was just turning dusk when he left the house, but before he reached the forest darkness had fallen in full. xi The moon did not rise till late, and he could not see far ahead when he passed in under the trees. But he pressed on, the money tucked safely away in the in- side pocket of his vest, and had just reached the end of the woods, when the sudden glimmer of a light in the edge of the trees attracted his attention. “Why, that’s near the old cave,” mut- tered the boy, stopping and looking-to- ward the gleam. “Wonder what it means?” He was about passing on when the im- pulse to go forward and investixzate seized upon him, and he turned toward the cav “ e. : t won’t take but a minute,” he told himself, “I’ll just sneak up near enough , until the straggling lights’ of | OOD !to see who’s prowling around. It may be {some of the boys, though it’s been a long | time since any of us have been down this way.” ae climbed over the fence, and stole toward the light. It was still shining, | but before he got half-way to it it sud- | denly went out. | He kept on, however, and soon reached | the vicinity of the cave. lated in a small and rocky ravine, and ked convul-| had been formed by several large bowl- | ' ders rolling down from the sides of the ' gorge, and lodging in such a manner as | to leave a considerable cavity underneath. Paul and his friends had fora long itime used this place asa sort of ren-| | dezvous in some of their sports. But they had lost interest in it, and had not been there for some time. In a few minutes he was near enough to the cave to hear the sound of strange voices. “That’s none of the fellows,’ tered, beginning to feel a little uneasy. “But who can it be?” He paused fora moment in uncertainty. Then his curiosity urged him on again, and he soon gained a position behind one of the bowlders that formed a side of the cave, Here he crouched down, and listened. In a little while the party within began | talking again. “There’s no doubt about it. all the money wich him, and, if we’re smart, we’ll make a clean haul of three or four thousand dollars.” “All the same, it’s blamed risky,” said another voice. “Well, what of it? I reckon we’re smart enough to make our escape. We'll just stay here till twelve or one o’clock, then we'll make tracks for Bolton’s house. Take my word for it, bub, he’]l never put that money in the bank to- morrow.” Paul almost betrayed his proximity by the start he gave as these words reached his ears. Mr. Bolton was the treasurer of the Building and Loan Association into which he was going to pay the fifty dol- lars that night, and these two men were concocting a scheme to rob him at his home. The youth soon decided what.to do, He must hurry away at once, and tell the treasurer what he had discovered, “It’s the greatest piece of rascality I ever heard of,” thought Paul, as he cau- tiously rose to his feet and turned away, But he was not destined to escape. He stepped upon a small stone which slid out from under his foot with a sharp noise, and nearly threw him down, “What’s that?” cried one of the men, and the next second both were heard starting from the cave. Paul did not wait. Knowing he was sure to be caught, he broke into a run. The next moment the men saw him, and started in pursuit with a shout of rage: “Stop, you young eavesdropper,” cried the foremost ruffian; “stop, 1 say, or I’]] shoot you.” ; Paul paid no attention. He dashed back toward the road, expecting to have a bullet sent after him each moment, but for some reason it did not come,’ Straining every muscle, he soon came near the fence, and at oe same moment he heard the pursuers close behind him, He had no time toclimb the fence, and gathered himself for a spring. | When he reached it, he placed his hand on the top rail, and made a tremendous leaps He would have cleared it all right, but the rail gave way under him, and he a head long into the grass on the road- side. He sprang up, but it was too late. A heavy hand was laid on his collar, and he was jerked yiolently around, “Now I’ve got you,” said a rough voice. “I’m a good mind to break your head.” “Let me go,” panted Paul. “ ? “Vl let you go, confound you,” roared his captor, shaking him savagely. “Who are you?” “None of your business,” said Paul, fearlessly, “If you don’t let me go, it’ll be worse for you.” “Careful with that tongue of yours, Just come along back here.” With a quick move the youth struck the man a stinging blow in the face. The ruffian uttered a howl, and put up his hand. Paul broke loose, and dashed awa oy > y. top him, Dick,” cried the fellow he had hit. “Shoot him down; don’t let him escape.” Paul was.running for all he was worth. Dick promptly gave chase, He was a good runner, and, despite the boy’s desperate exertion, rapidly overhauled him. When he got near enongh he struck at the boy with his fist, and once more Paul sprawled into the road. He was partially , stunned, and, before he could recover, | both men were upon him, ne me ee ae cried the one, ‘savagely. “He nearly broke my nose, ' Just let ine get at him.” : This was situ- | he mut- | He’ll have} NE ws. “We've no time to fool with him. me your handkerchief.” The man did so, and in a few minutes Paul’s hands were secured behind him, | back to the cave, Here he was laid down, and Dick be- gan searching him. . “We may as well take whatever you’ve ;got of value,” he said. “We deserve something for that blasted run you gave | US. | Paul’s heart sank. His mother’s hard- | earned fifty dollars would be stolen. | | “Oh, what’s the use!” said the other. |remember what the marshal ha Give} him, and held himself in readines turn on the gas when the signa given. Suddenly a slight noise was hear (he was lifted between them and carried | the window. “Hist!” said the officer. “There are |” heard, then the sash was carefully In a moment the men climbed t the window, and stood out on the The marshal nudged Paul. A glare of light flooded the room, the same moment Marshal Gilbert The man soon found the book and the | sternly: bills, and chuckled as he saw the money, Then, by the light of the lantern which he had relighted, he examined the book, and uttered a low whistle. “Well, I'll be hanged, Joe,” he cried, “if here isn't one o' the Buildin’ and Loan books; fifty dollars along with it, too, by the great thunder! Well, young- ster, we'd only get this money anyhow, so we'll take it now. Wish we could get all that'll be paid in to-night as easy as we get this.” He put the bills into his pocket, after which Paul was thrown into the cave. A large stone lying near was rolled against the entrance, and Paul’s capture was complete. Hour after hour passed till the boy knew it must be after midnight, Then the men prepared to leave. “T reckon you’ll be comfortable there for some time, bub,” said one, as they moved away. “ You can thank your lucky stars that we didn’t ki)’ you.” The next moment they were gone. Paul tugged at the bandage confining his wrists, “IT must get away, and warn Mr. Bol- ton,” he reflected, excitedly. “They may ki!l him.” But the handkerchief was well tied, and he could not weaken it. “What shall I do?” he cried, desper- ately. “T must get away.” Then an idea flashed into his mind. He rolled over with his back against the rock, and, despite the pain, began rub- bing the hanakerchief against it. His hands were soon bruised and bleed- ing, but he kept.on until finally the linen was worn through and dropped off. He groped his way to the entrance, and tried to move the rock. He could not budge it. He sank back again with a groan of dismay. “Too bad,” was his despairing cry, “I can’t get out, after all. The men must be almost there now. If——” He thrust his hand into his pocket, and uttered a low ery. They had not robbed him of his jack-knife, and he soon had it out, digging away the dirt for life. How the boy worked! In half an hour he had dug a large cavity under one side of the stone, and a hard push sent it cver so that he managed to squeeze through on the other side, and crawl from the cave, Then off he started across fields for the house of Gilbert, the town marshal. He had to cross a brook, -but he did not lose time. He waded through, and, with the water dripping from his garments, reached the marshal’s house ten minutes later, As soon as possible that individual was aroused, and Paul told his story. Hurry,” he’ concluded.~ “You may be too late.” In less than five minutes they were hurrying toward the treasurer’s home. The marshal had two revolvers, one of which he handed to Paul. : “Don’t be afraid to use it,” he said, and a few minutes after they. came in sight of Mr. Bolton’s house. They looked cautiously around as they approached, but all was silent. Evidently the thieves had not arrived yet. When they reached the house the mar- shal rang the bell long and hard, A mo- ment later an upper window was raised, and Mr, Bolton called out: i Who’s there?” “It’s I, Gus,” said the marshal, step- ping back and looking up. “Come down, quick as you can, and open the door.” Mr. Bolton knew the officer, and lost no time in admitting him, What is up?” he asked, when they were all inside, The officer explained: .. They'll be here soon,” he concluded. We must be ready for ’em,” _ Hasty preparations were made. Believ- ing that the thieves were acquainted with Mr. Bolton’s house, the officer concluded they would force an entrance into the room where the treasurer kept his safe and to this apartment they all repaired. A large, hizh-backed sofa was drawn up under the gas-jet, the gas was lighted and turned down low, and the three watchers crouched down behind the sofa. “We'll wair till they get in the room,” said the officer; “then I'll give you a nudge, Paul, and you must turn on the gas in full, Bolton and I will cover ’em with our revolvers, and if they don't surrender we’ll let ’em have it,” Paul was much excited, But he tried to | panic-stricken, and made a das “Surrender, or we’}l shoot you d@ Startled into confusion by thes illumination of the room, and the ous command, the two robbers bh fi window. x But the officer and Bolton we quick for them. Their revolvers © simultaneously, and both men went! badly wounded. After this their & was easy, and they were soon and secured. They were taken to jail wounds were dressed, and ie finally recovered were sent to pris? Paul, of course, recovered his. but the members of the Buildif Loan Association were so gratefu valuable service he had rendere@ that they clubbed together and Pi his mother’s book for several mo come, ————_>- 0 _—__—_——_- ABOUT SECRET INVENTII _—— a} es > ay, N the early working on arts and 12 ics workmen were put on O& - to reveal the process used in thei ufacture. Doors were kept clos sans going out were searched, visite vigorously excluded from admissh false operations blinded the workmé@l selves. The mysteries of every” hedged in by quickset fences of eM pretension and judicial affirmation used to be close by Temple Bar, 12 an old chemist’s shop, the prop! which, in days gone by, enjoyed the oly of making citric acid. More circumstanced than other secret turers, his was a process that req¥ assistance. He employed no WE Experts came to sample and assort tle his products. They never e2 laboratory. ; The mystic operations by which rich were confined to himself. _ having locked the doors and bling windows, sure as usual of the safew secret, our chemist went home to A chimney-sweep, or a boy dise™ such, wide awake in chemistry, watch. Following the secret-keep on his way to Charing Cross as 1 a he would not return that day, philosopher hied rapidly back Bar, ascended the low building; down the flue, saw all he wante@ turned, carrying with him the making citric acid. The monop® inventor was gone. A few months® price was reduced by four-fifths. man was heartbroken and died sh ward, ignorant of the trick by whi® been victimized. ; i The manufacture of tinware 12 originated in a stolen secret. need to be informed ‘that tinwase thin sheet iron plated with ti dipped into the molten metal. In is an easy matter to clean the iron. Dip the iron into a bath tin and remove it, enveloped 12 y metal, to a place of cooling. I however, the process is one of difficult of arts. It was discovere land and guarded from publicity utmost vigilance for nearly half England tried to discover the s@ until James Sherman, a Cor crossed the channel, surreptitiously into a tin-plate made himself master of the brought it home. The history of cast steel pres€ ous instance of a manufactu stealthily obtained under the appeal to philanthropy. The mé tion between iron and steel, as MY know, is that the latter conta The one is converted into the “| being heated- for a considera contact with powdered charco box. Now, steel thus made is W middle of a bar is more carbonl™®, ends, and the surface more thaP | It is therefore unreliable. Neve fore the invention of cast steel nothing better. In 1760 there tercliffe, near Sheffield, named Huntsman, He became U Two or three peculiar scratehe ithe w ‘to the ighw ’ e] an on sk “succee bs E Or agri tthe : Ming t Otives quest ing atione. Fan so Wer, w ed his e Men ci er Goonpd NEWS. S421 ii the watch-springs in use and set him- tto the task of making them homogene- “Tf,” thought he, ‘‘I can melt a piece Bee] and make it into an ingot, its com- Sition should be the same throughout.” f Succeeded. His steel soon became fous. Huntsman’s ingots for fine work €in universal demand. He did not call mM cast steel. eat was his secret. About 1770 a large Mufactory of this peculiar steel was es- Shed at Attercliffe. ‘The process was Pped in secrecy by every one within fh, true and faithful men hired, the KK divided and sub-divided, large wages Hand stringent oaths administered. It Mot avail. One midwinter’s night, as tall chimneys of the Attercliffe Steel Ks belched forth their smoke, a traveler Wked at the gate. It was bitter cold, the W fell fast and the wind howled across Moat. ‘The stranger, apparently a plow- for agricultural laborer seeking shelter M the storm, awakened no suspicion. ining the wayfarer closely and moved Motives of humanity the foreman granted Hequest and let him in. lgning to be worn out with the cold atigue, the poor fellow sank upon the Fand soon appeared to be asleep. ‘That, SYer, was far from his intention. He Mihiseyes apparently only. He saw sien cut bars of steel into bits, place ‘in crucibles ina furnace. ‘The fire Urged to its extreme power until the »Wes melted. Clothed in wet rags to ect themselves from the heat, the work- fdrew out the glowing mould. Mr. “sinan’s factory had nothing more to se, ‘The making of cast steel had been Vered. S86 casting of hollow ware was for a mer of years a secret, and was kept in mily for more than fifty years. mt 4 NIGHT IN A BALLOON. BY H. I. ALLEN, > July, three years ago, I received ‘Several letters from parties in Chi- (ago consulting me regarding cost nd other particulars for a private N8ion, in the interest of a number of men, whose object was stated to be ~00n voyage which should combine tific investigation with pleasure. ~ 16 was nothing new to be called to make such ascensions, no ques- » Were raised one way or another. “Ontract was entered into, and at the ‘ted time, I proceeded with one of s est balloons to Chicago. .8 met at the station by two men, sy Said they were of the balloon 2) and that they had been appointed tin all matters regarding the ascen- » that the entire party was composed yattied men, and consequently it ;, be necessary to use every precau- to keep the matter out of the papers, tit should by any means come to the Nasdze of their wives the voyage i have to be abandoned. _S Was reasonable to suppose, and to ®id the utmost secrecy was observed. S Lalloon was to be inflated with open gas, in order, as they said, that pose might be as extended as pussi- hey Wanted it filled during the night, ».0 Start before daylight, giving as a for this that, though an all-day = Was contemplated, they neverthe- 5 “Nted to view the city by gaslight. ). far south of the city was an old ,.-Nclosure and a house occupied by tere? of Germans, the men being .° rounds were secured, as well as peVices of the men, for the erection i fas-making apparatus and assist- ) 2 the inflation of the balloon. ti reparations were made to have the 0 take place on the night of Tues- “gust 3d. s locks of the city were striking two © balloon had received its supply , “8? was then attached. h “Nchor, drag-rope, sand hallast, s9°n of water, basket of provisions, : ®Xtra clothing, and several grip- y aid to contain wine, scientific in- ayats, ete., were in their places in , Cut the car. Preparations were all complete, . balance of the party had not ap- ap and I then learned for the first Q at the two men I had already met © be the only ones to accompany na asked for an explanation of their j, Statements, they merely remarked i Ould make no difference in the att which I was to receive, at the he handing me a roll of notes of in tlated amount. &ht it strange, but made no com- It was just three o’clock. The six head-light lanterns, which had been placed at safe distances on all sides, made the central space about the balloon a glow of light, causing the darkness out- side to appear more dense and uninviting. I surveyed the prospect for a moment, and could scarcely control a foreboding sensation that crept over me. One of them had asked me some hours before if I ever carried fire-arms with me, and I had answered no; but on after- thought I concluded that for such an ex- tended voyage some sort of weapon might be serviceable, because balloons often alight in unexpected places; so I took oc- casion fo secure a pair of good revolvers. These were placed in my overcoat pock- ets, and as I now put it on to secure my- self against the cold in the upper regions, the extra weight attracted my attention. I was about to speak of them, when one of the men rather impatiently urged me to make haste. Stepping into the car without further delay, I proceeded to adjust the ballast; the restraining ropes were severed, and instantly the balloon was cleaving its way through the darkness. : On rising, the gaslights came into view, perfectly outlining all parts of the city. Through the more central parts many electric lights were to be seen, making their surroundings in some degree visible. It was already evident that our ccurse Hay directly over the city. My two companions began conversing very earnestly in German. I listened, for, while I am not a German linguist, and rarely make any effort at conversation in that language, yet I un- derstand much of it when spvken by others, This they did not know, and, pre- suming on my ignorance, they seemed to forget my presence entirely. The first phrase that arrested my atten- tion was, when one of them essayed to open a grip-sack, the other exclaimed: “No, no! not yet! Wait until we reach the business portions, then give it to them red-hot.” What could this mean? I was unable, in the darkness, to read their countenances, but I had heard and seen enough to convince me that there was some deviltry on foot, and that I was being made a party to it. What could be contained in that grip- sack which would make it red-hot for the business portion of the city? . A fearful thought flashed through my rain, What if it should be dynamite? I thonght of the two revolvers, and in- stinctively felt for them. There they were, nestling one in each breast-pocket of my overcoat, every cham- ber ready for use. I made up my mind in that moment that if there was to be any attempt to slaughter the innocent sleepers below, I should prevent it, even if I had to kill both of the men. Meanwhile I kept listening, and found that they were only delaying their dia- bolical work to make the destruction more terrible farther on. There was no time to lose. A balloon car filled with dynamite was no place fora fight; besides, they were two to one against me, and desperate men at that. My resolution was taken. Picking up a sand bag, I emptied its contents over the side of the car, Feeling the balloon respond to the ac- tion, and, stepping on to the side of the basket, Iswung myself by the net ropes into the perch of the concentrating ring, above the heads and out of reach of my passengers, They did not seem to have noticed what I was doing. In a half-reclining position I watched as well as I could, and listened to their now very excited conversation. “Now is the time!” I heard one sud- denly say. They stooped to pick up their grips. Just then I yelled at the topof my voice: “Stop!” Their faces were immediately turned upward, “Move hand or foot,” said I, “and I will rill you both with bullets. Now put down those grips, and lie down on your backs. One word, or one suspicious move, and I will put the contents of these re- volvers into you.” I was master of the situation. Daylight was coming slowly, but it seemed very long about it. I cautioned the men several times to lie perfectly still. Two or three times I glanced below, and saw that we were rapidly leaving the city by another current which was carry- ing us over the lake. What an awful catastrophe had been averted ! Hundreds, and perhaps thousands, now living, would have been killed and wound by these anarchistic dynamite fiends, But I had them where they could do no harm now. I was, however, very anxious to get rid of the stock on hand, I could bave killed the inhuman wretches easily enough, and would have been warranted, perhaps, in doing so, for, although as yet they had shown no inten- tion of harming me, it was without,doubt part of their policy to get rid of any wit- ness to their terrible crime. By the time it was broad daylight, the balloon had run from ten to fifteen miles | up the lake. J took occasion just then to give the rascals below mea short lecture regard- ing their individual safety, showing them very clearly that their lives were in my hands, and that I should not pause to act, if they showed the slightest hesita- tion to obey my orders, They were both lying in the same posi- tion, and I still forbade them. speaking, but, pointing out some loose cords, I told one of them to bind the other securely, With some show of reluctance in his countenance, but none in his actions, he obeyed, and the other acquiesced ; for they saw in my hand the best argument for such a course. I then ordered the bound turned face downward. This having been accomplished, the other man was compelled to assume a man to be my perch, I bound him myself. On searching the two men, I was sur- prised at finding no sort of offensive weapon upon them. I thought of the grip sacks:and their contents. Pickiny up one of them, I asked: “What do these contain?” One man had his face partially turned up, and in a tremor replied: “Explosives! For Heaven’s sake, be careful, or you’ll blow us to atoms!” I opened the grip carefully, and saw nothing but some tin cans, Taking the man’s word for it, how- ever, and carefully noting that no vessel was anywhere within miles of us, I let} the grip and its contents drop to the lake. It was out of sight long before reaching the water, but when it struck, an explo- sion rent the air which must have been terrific in its violence, for a by the concussion, The content» of the leather bags were not all alike in form, but the result on dropping them over was the same with six of them. The seventh explained the absence of any weapons on the men, for it contained three loaded pistols and two ugly-looking knives. They followed the rest to the bottom of the lake. All this time I had been lightening the balloon of a very considerable weight, and it kept mounting faster and faster, as, one after another, the bags had been disposed of. It was very cold, and the rarity of the air made breathing difficult. The men in the bottom of the car were not enjoying this much, and shivered badly. But there was no help for it. I was glad myself when the descent began, Our course was still up the lake. I should have been glad now to have made a landing, and have given these prisoners of mine over to justice; but the lake is long, and unless other currents were found, there was a tedious ride be- fore us straight up its length. It was past nightfall when the western shore was finally reached. I looked for the glistening lights which are usually springing into view at this time, but saw none, and so was forced to the conclusion that the country below was a forest wild. My prisoners, to whom I had given food and drink, asked from time to time to be released from their uncomfortable positions; and when refused, begged pite- ously to know what my intentions were regarding them. But I declined to say. During that long and anxious night there were but two sorts of sounds that greeted my ears—that of falling water from an occasional cascade, and the rarer sound of what I at first took to be the barking of dogs, but which, on after- thought, was attributed to wolves. At last the morning broke, but in the uncertain light I could make out noth- ing. When it broadened into day, I per- ceived naught but woods in every direc- tion. The men began begging me to tell them something'of the situation; but instead I released one of them sufficiently to enable him to look over the side of the car, A smile of satisfaction spread over his face, as he looked up and said: “You are lost in some wilderness. You will never be able to give usup to the law.” moment | afterward the balloon was roughly shaken | I told him not to make toe sure of that, as lexpected to reach civilization again very shortly. Then they implored me to land them in the wilderness, saying they would rather die of starvation than be carried back to Chicago. I was none too sure of getting out of the woods myself, unless I should drop these men soinewhere, and take in ballast instead. This I determined to do at the first op- portunity: and so, pretending to accede to their entreaties, I lowered the balloon till the drag-rope was trailing over the trees. Presently a moss-ccvered bog was reached, and the balloon was brought to the ground. I then explained that I was going to leave them to themselves in the woods, to find their way out as best they could— that J should give them the remaining provisions, and that in return for such mercy they were to swear never to return to Chicago, nor ever to engage in anv such villainous plot again. Es The car swung by the anchor rope toa stout sapling, to which I lashed it. This was sufficient hold to allow one man to get out. Releasing one then, I told him to bring some bags of dirt out of the woods, bne _+.___—_— HAZING THE PROFESSOR. A party of smart young students in a small town in Kentucky, last winter con- ceived the brilliant idea of hazing their new teacher. It was decided to invite him to accompany them coon-hunting some night, and after leading him about in the woods until completely bewildered, to abandon him, and leave him find his way - back to the village or remain in the woods all night. Now, as the pedagogue was a stranger, and weighed nearly two hui- dred pounds, this scheme seemed too funny for anything, and many a hearty laugh did they have overit. The invita- tion was given and accepted, and the ap- pointed night came, cold and clear, with several feet of snow on the ground. Everything moved on as per arrange- ment, the professor seeming guileless and unsuspecting, but from beneath his puffv eyelids now and then gleamed an amused twin'xle. The party had plodded through the snow for several hours, and the ring- leader was about to give the signal to disperse, when the professor sank to the ground with a groan of agony. “Oh, oh!” he moaned; “oh, one of my attacks again! Quick, boys, for mercy’s sake, get me to a place of shelter, or I’m a dead man!” Talk about scared boys! Here they were five miles from the nearest house, and an apparently dying man on their hands. Something must be done, and quickly, too. 0-2 Tue tirst steel pen was made ? © for 1); th.bo r, ELL ~ tree Hy Teac t, OUaY tt bee ay) art GooDpD NEWS. 3423 AMON G EWS iGLUBS. CX N MY ~s 1OOD ey ISPECSAL NOTICE.—This column is for GOOD EWS Clubs only. No notices will be inserted Copting such as are genuine GOOD NEWS Club ices, and nothing in the shape of an advertise- Mt will be allowed. Every club notice should V6 the names of the president and secretary of 8 Club attached. For information concerning ¥OD NEWs Club Badge and Electrotypes see ad- ttisement on last page. | a CHAT. 4.1L. ¥.—Thanks for compliment. Are you try- for a prize? 0: R., A.G.. and A. L. Freer ur officers if you wish your club no V. C. M.—'The case of fraud you mention will be tigated, and if it is as stated the offender will ished. us a list of CLUB NOTICES. ‘arrie A.Holmes, Greenland, N. H., wishes to = GOoob NEws Musical Clubs, with a view Dining. in Burgess, 933 West Mulberry street, Balti. | *e, Mad., would like to join a GOOD NEWS Club | his State. ‘you are looking for a good club to join, the NEws Corresponding Club of Ft. Madison, 1e One. All joining get neat card of mem- ). printed lists of members and 25 visiting 8 free. 1Outh in advance. +» 1004 Second street. GOopD NEWS readers are invited to join Goop WS Friendship Clup of Chicago, Ills. Initiation Chas, B. Hesse, sec. and 10 cents; dues, 5 cbits per month in advance. | on joining you receive a five membership card, | ) tules and regulations, and every month you “receive lists of members and Golden Monthty. “es free. For full particulars address the ‘Stary, Adolf Boehm, 575 West 25th street. 6 Columbus GOOD NEWS Corresponing Club of Mibus, Ohio, makes the following inducements 6 more members: The first one to join will We a handsome box of note paper; also the one Sing the nearest to the number of members we ©. Ladies free; also officers of home and for- clubs. Dues, 5c. yearly. Address all orders Mtary Arthur McBryde, 266 Mt. Vernon ave, ‘you want to correspond with young people £ On the other side of the globe? We have mem- $On our list who reside in China, India, Aus- 44, British Guiana, etc. Join Goop Nuws Cor- PONding and Exchange Club of North America. tion fee, 5 cents; dues, 5 cents monthly; sand foreigners’ free. Pres., Irving Edwin sec., J. H. Hagen, Riverhead, L. I., N. Y. tamp tothe secretary for constitution and 8, an application blank, ete. 6 are lots of GOOD NEWS clubs, and the best Goop NEws Corresponding Club of Fort Towa. When joining you receive nice col- Membership card, your name in our neat ership list, issued every alternate month, and, and best, the Club Gazette. We have on our + some of the best contributors in the organi- 7 Initiation fee, 10 cents; dues, 5 cents per in advance; ladies free; no dues. Geo. W. i, secretary, Fort Dodge, lowa, © Queen City GOOD NEWS Corresponding Club Milo, N. Y., has organized and wants members ll parts of North and South America; Sare: J. McEllott, president; J. Wilson, Vice-president; C. Crowe, second vice-presi- sand Tl. McElliott, secretary. Initiation fee, 8; dues, 5 cents per month in advance. admitted for two one-cenut stamps. Mem- lists issued monthly. Address all com: tions to secretary, Thos. J. McElliott, 101 a street, Buffalo, N. Y. al notice! Have you seen the new card of ; Niws Humane Society of the United States? Have you got one? Remember this is the Clety of its kind in the entire organization. Hot join such a valuable society like this? ) ty object is that you should prevent animals wittelty if such isin your power. When join- JU will receive a certificate to certify that ¢ Auagent Wewill soon have badges which 'SO be sent to newand old members. ‘The On fee is only 12¢.; no dues. H.H. Duncker, y, 10 E. Broad street, Richmond, Va. XCHANGE Derarrmenr. HWeLANT.—TLhis column is free to all our readers #4, NOt be responsible for transactions brought rough notices in this column. All offers must ly exchange Offers. We will not insert any advertisements, nor exchanges of fire-arms, » dangerous or worthless articles. If exchange O not appear in a reasonable time, it may be OO that they were not accepted. Address all ons for this column to ‘Exchange De- ADING MATTER.—Paul Lennard, Vienna, iy Paper-covered novels and libraries to ex- oor back numbers of boys’ papers Also a th-bound books for same, ELLANEOUS.—Karl W. Hillen Jr., 2212 Street, Frankford, Pa., will exchange $6 Mreading matter, 1 bound volume of papers, hound History of England, 1 business ac- ne book, 1 steel plate electrotype, 500 en- vy) artist’s color box, 3 fonts of type—entire , i $23 to $25—for Safety bicycle 28 or 30 LS.—A. Heairchin, 919 Natoma street, San » Cal., has eight 5-cent detective novels ge for boys’ papers. Write for par- All letters answered. LLANEOUS.—Wilmer Hill, 1933 U st. ‘Neb., will exchange 3! stamp papers, 150 Cards, 165 card pictures, and the books, * le, Billiard Rules, and Bulbs, and How th Them for a catcher’s mitt or glove. bh ES:—Andy Williams, 269 Colborne street, » Ontario, Canada, will give 25 foreign 4 Or every mixed 5, 6, 8, 10, or 15-cent Colum, Mps, and 40 foreign for any Columbian .,'Dove 15-cout denomination. Will ex- ‘foreign stamps for Columbian envelopes or 8 ot United States stamps. ALANEOUS.—A. W. Pierce, Box 108, 4 Mass., has a pair of skates, size ‘1's, i; album of noted Indian chiefs, Interna: ices inserted, | Initiation fee, 15 cents; dues, 5 cents | tional album, 500 stamps, valued at $15; set of old coins, dating 1751: 40 birds’ eggs, 40 cloth and paper- bound books, set of Dickens’ works, valued at $10; hand-painting of two leading trotters, 3 vol- umes boys’ papers, to exchange for good pneumatic Safety. Send description. HAND BOOKS.—C. Allyn Barrett, Crafts, N.Y has 7 hand-books, 4 bound books, and reading mat- ter to exchange for story papers. Write tor par- ticulars, MISCELLANEOUS.—S. Phillips, 73 t#ast 109th street, New York city, has a bicycle lantern, a hand printing press and outtit, 425-cent books, 2 50-cent books, 86 story papers, 50 3-cenl stamps, and 10 2- cent brown United States stamps for best offer. All letters answered. HARMONICA.—Morris Jacoby, 49 New street, Newark, N.J.. will give a fine double harmonica ivory topped, worth 75 cents, for bestoffer in United States or foreign stamps not in his collection, or for a $1 Columbian stamp or a 60-cent Columbian stamp. Send sheets. MUSICAL CLOCK.—Frank Douris, Box 240, Hartford, Kansas, has a large new scroll-work mus* ical clock, with glass show-case, worth $75, to ex- change for good Safety bicycle. Alarge photozraph of clock will be sent to any one that means busi- ness, for inspection, Please send description of Wheel. All letters answered. MAGIC LANTERN.—James Osborne, 1207, 8th street, Lynchburg, Va., has a small magic lantern, with pictures, to exchange for small card printing press or best offer. All letters answered. | STAMPS.—G. F. Yohn, Turner’s Falls, Mass., | has 10,000 mixed Columbian stamps, nine varieties, 100 philatelic papers for best for good foreign ; Stamps for same. MISCELLAN EOUS.—Otto Hartmann, 2 Wilken street, Rochester, N. Y., has 500 story papers, nov- | els, picture cards, cabinets of ball-players, etc., for | best offer. Send for list with offers. CARDS AND PAPERS.—Wm M., Pigott, 514 C | street, N. E.. Washington, D.C., has 1,200 picture cards and 200 story papers to exchange for story papers. MISCELLANEOUS.—Austin J. Jones, 705 8S. Adams street, Peoria, Ill, has pair No. 9 club skates, 20 numbers of boys’ papers, 20 numbers of | philatelic papers, 100 picture cards, 215 certificates, and Columbian and old United States stamps for bound juvenile books, or back numbers of boys’ papers. Send for list. STAMPS.—Frank Moore, Salyersville, Ky., has 30,000 foreign stamps to exchangein any quantity | for books or bound volumes of magazines or period- icals, | MISCELLANEOUS.—Charlie S. Mortimer, 2927 | Clay street, San Francisco, Cal., will exchange 2000 | picture cards, ten bound books, five novels, vol- | ume of boys’ papers, strong magnifying glass, 100 | foreign stamps, 500 Columbian stamps, canceled, for best offer. NOVELS AND CARDS.—Frank E. Brooke, 401 East Crawford street, Findlay, Ohio, will exchange picture cards, and 90 novels for boys’ papers. Write for particulars. MISCELLANEOUS.—Robert L. Stephens, Dan- | ville, Ills., has 75 good books, stamps, minerals, | fossils, picture cards, gladioli bulbs, ete., for choice foreign stamps, old U. 8S. and Columbians. |} PICTURES.—C. J. Reardon, 426 North 12th st., | Philadelphia, Pa., has 500 card pictures, for rare stamps; columbians above 2 cents preferred. Twice their catalogue value in 5-cent or 10-cent novels, for stamps not in collection. MISCELLAN EOUS:—Bruce List, Aberdeen, Ohio, has books on hunting and fishing, and a book on boxing ; also has novels toexchange for picture cards or a Scott’s international stamp album. MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS, ETC ,—Austin A. Goss, Box 46, Green's Landing, Me., has musical instruments, papers, books, stamps, minerals and fossils, etc., to exchange for best offer of printing press, printing material, Columbian stamps, Safety bicycle or other offers. —~+-2—--- ——. Qur Mail Bag. cmon Gresennmest Rosas on subjects of general interest only are dealt with in the “Mail Bag.” Medical or legal questions not answered. Goop NEws goes to press two weeks in advance of date of publication, and there- fore auswers cannot appear until two or three weeks after we receive them. Communications intended for this column should be addressed Goop News “Mail Bag,” P. O. Box 2734, New York City.) Le dace ie Coins, Milwaukee —1. As early as January, 1782, a plan for an American coinage was submitted to Jongress, and in February following Congress ap- proved the establishment of a mint, but no further action was taken until 1785, when Congress adopted the plan of a national coinage, and im 1786 decided upon the names and characters of the coins. In October, 1786, Congress framed an ordinance for the eStablishment of a mint; but nothing further was done until 1787, when the board of treasury made a contract for copper coins. On April 2, 1792, a code of laws was enacted for the establishment and regulation of the mint, under which, with slight amendments, the coinage was executed for forty- two years. The mint referred to is at Philadelphia, and was established in 1792. The first silver coin was produced at this mint in 1794. Powder, New York.—Great care is necessary in the preparation of colored fires, The ingredients should be separately reduced to powder and sifted; then put into well-corked, wide-mouthed bottles until the time for mixing them for use. Colored fires deteriorate rapidly by keeping, and are nearly all dangerously inflammable, and we would advise you not to handle them. If you cannot get along without them, however, you might purchase them much cheaper than you can make them, and avoid the possibility of blowing your head of in the manu- facture. T. W., Boston.—Tf the boy is to have an expens- ive weapon, a double hammerless twelve gauge of about 74 pounds weight shonld suit him admirably. Such a gun, if built by a maker of repute, will give service for a lifetime. : E. R., Grand Rapids, Mich.—1. No premium ona “dime of 1842. 2. Send the part of the $20 bill to the Treasurer of the United States at Washington, D. 3. No. G. D. N., Watkins, N. Y.—You had better buy a good work on electricity, as we cannot answer your questions witbout knowing the full particulars. A. K.,, Chicago.—What is termed the gall bladder, or gall, is not found in the deer. This is also true of several species of quadrupeds. kk. W. F., West Sullivan, Me,—-1. Your mother. 2. We cannot say which is the best music. 3. No. C. A. G., Philadelphia.—Yes, the present editor writes exclusively for GOOD NEWS, era ee teft over to be answered next week. offer ; 1,000 2-cent Columbian for 24-cent 1872 issue. | | Ticklets. BY CHAR Li s wy FOSTER. True Equality. Little Ethel—‘‘Nellie Nexdoor is taking paint- ing lessuns, and the teachers say she is a per- fect genius. Mayn't I take painting lessons, too?’ Mother—“Do you think you have any talent for painting ?”’ Little hthel—“Of course. Our family is just as good as Nellie Nexdoor’s.” Wanted a Change. Little Dot—‘‘Oh, I'd give anything if I was old enough to have a husband.” Mamma—‘*Merey me! Why ?” Little Dot—‘I’mm so tired of being petted.”’ Messenger Boys in Real Life. Prison Missionary—“My friend, to what do you owe your incarceration ?” Prisoner—“‘To reading the comic papers.” Sn “TIT was a trusted cashier, but lost money on the races, and concluded to skip. In order to save the bank officers trouble, IT wrote a full confession, and gave it to a messenger boy, thinking I would have plenty of time to en- gage passage and leave the country before he’ N a GOoxrLYD AND SIDV EF got through playing marbies, reading dime novels, and sleeping on curbstones. Hang those joke writers! I was arrested before IT could pack wy grip.” Asking and Telling. Teacher—‘‘Define ‘obedience.’ ” Little Girl—“Obedience is w’en girls don’t go anywhere without asking, and boys don’t go anywhere without telling.” Not Much Known. Freshman—‘Where did these things come from ?”’ Exhibitor—These, sir, are instruments of torture from the Inquisition.” Freshman—T never heard of that college. Guess they haven’t any foot-ball team.” Imprisoned, Mother—‘‘That’s Mr. Poorchap in the parlor with your sister, isn’t it?” Small Son—‘Yes.” “Hum! Lwonder what that poverty-stricken fellow thinks of that forty dollar bouquet Mr. tichfello sent her?’ “Guess he don't like it much. Sister has | been holding his hands all the evening so he can't hurt it.” Very Vinegary. Mother—‘‘How do you like your new teacher?” Tittle Dick—“I don’t like her at all. She has such a sour, early strawberry look.” ABSOLUTELY GIVEN AWAY BY GOOD NEWS! THE COMPETITION OPEN TO ALL. $20 In Grold and Silwer. 17 PRIZES. $20 17 YOU CAN WIN ONE IF YOU TRY. In order to make GOOD NEWS more popular than ever with the boys and girls, we have decided to begin a series of prize competitions in which all, living far or near, shall have an equal chance of winning prizes! ITIS VERY EHASY. Below we present the first of these puzzles. TRY IT AND SEH. 15, MTL Vea ‘ AQ) XY " Vance : WX SORA \\ 8 RY AGIRLS NAME \\ SY SW ~~ SN tS A GIRLS GR APERY. =s Ay a Z TUN eT WIND A a ee \\\ aaa t \ /7 THREE EXCLAMATIONS ‘The Puzzle is to name the different parts of the world numbered above. 1 to 12 are Countries, 18 to 16 Islands, 17 to 19 Rivers, 20 and 21 Lakes, 22 to 24 Mountains, 25 to 27 Capes, and 28 to 30 Cities. Get out your Geographies and go to work. $10 in Gold for the First Correct Answer. $5 each in Gold for the Second and Third Correct Answers. $2.50 each in Gold for the next Four Best Answers. $1 each in Silver for the next Ten Best Answers. Answers to this Puzzle may be written ON THE SLIP PRINTED ON THIS PAGE NEXT WEEK. In filling out this slip be sure and add your name and address in full. All the answers will be placed in a box, mixed up, and opened, one at a time, on June 9th, 1894. No answer received after noon of that day will bé counted. Do not forget to place the right name after each number on the slip, Remember that even if you only have half the Puzzle right, you may win a prize. PUZZLE, GOOD NEWS, 29-31 Rose Street, TELL YOUR FRIENDS ABOUT THIS GREAT COMPETITION. of any kind required. Letters must be addressed to PRIZE New York There is nothing to pay, and no coupon NEWS. 4ODS iil are Scungrper (at Coney Island Palace Inn)—‘Mine cracious, sompoddy for- got dot sausage! I von dake him alreaty. . THAT YOUNG SCAMP BILLY. BY LARRY LEE. ae Sete XVI. THE WIND-UP. COUPLE of weeks later it was an- X nounced that there would be a big political meeting at Haytown. Mr. Hunker, who was up for the position of overseer of the roads in the dis- trict, was all excitement to attend and have tee incied up in his best, and got Peter Tucks to drive him down, using the best turn-out about the place. Of course Billy was on deck. It would never do to-let such a good for fun slip by. OTe. meeting wine held in the public square, where a temporary stand had been erected. Already a big crowd was collected, and matters were red-hot. A band was discoursing lonely wails of music, supposed to be ‘‘The Star Spangled Banner ;” and then the first speaker was announced. He was a short, stout man, who wanted to run for State Senator. He wasn’t a very good speaker, but he thought he was the greatest orator in the land, “What has brought this country to its present condition ?” asked the speaker. “Skunks !” cried Billy. And eyery one who had been on the ill- fared picnic was mad. ‘Who gets the most money from the poo? farmers ?”’ went on the man on the stand. “The circus,” replied Billy. Then people began to snicker. “Will somebody put that boy away?” said the speaker, savagely. “You can never down McFadden,” sang Billy. ‘Take the head-light out of your shirt-front, and give the torches a show.” The would-be Senator wore a bogus dia- mond, and this allusion made him madder than ever. “You're a pack of fools !” he howled. ‘‘What’s that he said?” asked the old man. “Said you were a fool,” replied Billy. Obadiah was on his ear all over at once. “Fool, am I?” he cried. ‘Billy, have you a cane?” “No, pop; here, take this lump of dirt.” ‘And Billy handed him an ancient egg, one of several he had brought along. Spat ! Obadiah landed the egg right on the top of that diamond. The head-light was completely extin- guished. And some of the rotten stuff splattered up in the speaker’s face. The smell was enough to paralyze him. He stopped short, and shook his fist at the crowd. “Who threw that egg ?” he roared. “Call me a fool?” replied Oby. “I’m as good a feller as ahybody here.” Biff ! Somebody gave it to the old man under the chin. “That'll teach yer ter throw eggs. Nice overseer 0’ roads you'd make.” Billy sized up the fellow who had struck his father, and an instant later the fellow got an egg straight between the eyes. “Sthop! Murder! Du meine zeit! Call der bolice und shoot der mat dorg!” It took his breath completely away from him. Instantly there was confusion on all sides. ‘Down with the rotten Democrats !” “Squash the measly Republicans !’ ‘Shoot the Prohibition ticket !” ‘““Give the Farmers’ Alliance a rest !”’ Tn vain the people on the stand tried to restore order. They called on the band to strike up, but when the players blared out the first notes of ‘‘Annie Laurie” about a half a bushel of soft tomatoes cut them short. After this there was fighting on all sides. *“Who hit me with a rock ?” ‘Who fired that egg at me?” ‘Who slugged me in the ear?” ‘‘Dod-rot the feller thet shoved that ere mud down my neck !” “Tl pulverize the man that smashed my hat !” ‘Who ripped the sleeve off my coat ?” “Get off my feet !” ‘‘Who’s stepping all over me?” Watching his chance, Billy threw up two dozen ancient eggs at once. They landed all over the crowd, and a sicker mass of men and boys was never seen. Every one vowed his neighbor had done it. And they went foreach other worse than ever. And the stink of those rotten eggs! It brought tears every time. Then Billy climbed up, and blew out the torches on the stand. The darkness made matters worse. The band tried to escape, but it was no 0. The brass horn was all smashed to bits, and Obadiah himself put his head through the bass-drum, “Whoop her up!” shouted Billy. her go for Uncle Sam.” And everybody did let her go. It was the liveliest political meeting on record. When it was all over, there wasn’t a man or boy in Haytown that didn’t bear the marks of the fray. It looked as if a cyclone had struck the village and caught up the principal inhabit- ants. For a full week the authorities were try- ing to find out who had started the trouble. Of course Billy kept shady. The imp didn’t want to fill an early grave. Obadiah came home a regular wreck. There were three strips of court plaster on his face, he carried his left arm in a sling; and when he got out of the wagon it was only done with the aid of a crutch. “Gosh blame the dod-rot politics, any- how!” he howled. “I’m done with ’em, Billy.” And he was. _ When they came to put his name on the ticket, he told the committee he wouldn’t ruQ for a million dollars and the Brooklyn Bridge thrown in. But here let us bid good-by to Billy Hunker, the worst scamp in Haytown. (THE END.) MARRIAGE PAPER FRES....f00.cccponaenes GUNNELS’ MONTHLY, TOLEDO, OHIO. Mention Good News. RN he eee TONIC TABLETS A noft, clear and beautiful complexion can only be secured by a rem- edy which acts directly hpon the skin through the Stomach, Nerves and . Theabove remedy , popularly named and known for many years as “THE GREAT COMPLEXION BEAUTIFIER,” mailed, free from observation, for price, 0c or $1 per box. Our book, “TOILET HINTS AND AIDS TO BEAUTY,” containing Priceless hints to either sex for the care and beautifying of the face and form, mailed forstamp, or Book and TRIALSIZE of Tablets for 250. Address FOLDER CHEMICAL CO., 12 A St., Duluth, Minn. “Tet _ Mention Good News. USEFUL INFORMATION. There is no good reason why people should not be well informed when they can become so for a small sum. The following list of valuable books will be sent post-paid to any address on receipt of price, 10 cents each: The Album Writer’s As- sistant. The Way to do Magic. How to Behave in Society Amateur’s Manual of Photography. Out-Door Sports, How to do Business. The Young Gymnast. The Hunter and Angler. Short-Hand for Every- body. The Taxidermist’s Man- The Lover’s Guide to Courtship and Mar- riage. Dunn’s Fencing Instrue- or. Prof. Muldoon’s Wrest- ng. The Complete Checker ayer. Backgammon and Baga- telle. Boys’ Own Book of Boats. Captain Webb’s Swim- ming Instructor, Amateur andProfessional Oarsman’s Manual, The International Criec- ket Guide, Complete Training Guide for Amateur and Pro- fessional Athletes. Riding and Driving. ual, Riddles and their An- swers. The Peerless Reciter, The Young Elocutionist. Callahan’s Easy Method of Ventriloquism, The Standard Reciter, Napoleon’s Book of Fate. Imperial Fortune-Teller. Poe’s Foot-Ball. Everyday Cook Book. The Book of Knowledge. Address MANUAL LIBRARY, 29 Rose st., N. Y, FOR ALL. $75 a month salary penses paid. If you want employment at once toP. O. VICKERY, Augusta® Mention Good News. and sureto workers. Greatsell AG ENTS quick. Royal Mfg. Co., Milwaukee Mention Good News. Amateur’s Manual of Photogtal S. & S. MANUAL LIBRARY, Noo PRICE, 10 CENTS. A hand-book of practical, instractiong a dry -plate photography. itisa complete | , thachineitis art. Fully illustrated. Tells from ft camera is made to the finish of a first-c ee Photography is a clean, light. and pleasant vr suitable for any young lady or gentleman, the reach of all. 3 tf For sale by all Newsdealers, or will be sent, | OF upon receipt of price, ten_cents, by the STREUT & SMITH, 31 Rose Street, New YO We guarantee $5 per day easy; 3 ————— LOVE, COURTSHIP AND MARRIA® All who cor” g | plate mart ; should not bes g out the : § — Sr instructions SS ; 7 to Wina o 7 aS” Love; what T . . of Character #% ° ¢ ¢ ¢ iN : Mit men; How ‘and Create Love; How a Plain Woman ne a Man’s True Love; Advice to those % ts, ¥ $ Marry; The Marriage—its Present Deligh ail < ture Hopes and Joys; The Bride’s rived will ‘ of Despondency, etc. This valuable bora $ sent onreceipt of LO cents. Address, M ¢ LIBRARY, 31 ROSE STREET, N, Good .News Bindé Price 50 Cents. Answers the purpose of a bound volume. fifty-two copies comfortably. i — Tt nas a durable black embosset ne flexible back, and a gold stamp title 0! eae cover, Itopens flat as any book, and a paper can be inserted as soon as reempal directions for inserting the paper acco a binder. : ao We will send the GOOD NEWS binder. #0968 ) age of binder pins, postpaid, to any @Ge— ceipt of 50 cents. G BOUND VOLUMES OF C NEWS. ia We have issued volumes tw four, and five, bound iD 0 heavy paper cover. = 1 numbers constitute % vole! papers are cut and w ual bound with as much care as an expe binding, and the price is u re . EIGUTY-FIVE CENTS EAC These volumes contain serial stories by Edward 8, Ellis Horatio Alget Jas, Otis, F Edward stratem , Harry Castlemon, Wm, Murray Walter Morris, Oliver Optics ort W. B. Lawson, Lieut. Louns And others equally well know™ 0 Address Subscription Department Go! 29 Rose street, New York. number OF have had MA Ke aneat badgre: cut is a fac badge is ma grade of Ge artistic in something & 4 will be a If we wer 4 these padges pre a fall into UNV ieees hands. x 10 fore, decide \¢ ix small charee for the dozen for sixty cents, if sent tu on® Readers desiring these badges 5), their orders at once, as we have me small number only, and the supply f exhausted. Electrotypes for Prilh ite, simile of badge on letter heads, cari, | cell sent post-paid on receipt of twenty- e To No coupons, n0 coutest, and no Ted") nly it8 | to secure one of these badges. Thee ce! ment is that each applicant sends 8 OD NBT their order for a badge, Address oS york responding Club, 29 Rose street, : —_— $$ | « 7 Be sure ana use '!Mrse out ay MOTHERS Soothing Syrup” 52 yout i while Teething: Guide, It gives ow re pd iD ne loves to fi to Mal HOU