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Entered According to Aet of Congress, in the Year 1895, by Street & Smith, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C.
Entered as Second-class Matter at the New York, N.Y., Post-Office.

Bae neP ne hatte al Me MeO tnt Net Sat tet MeO tne ee ne ne anne hahaa mar hah Meh Mee Nees eRe ttee tes tases

Rot Nat Nar et eter ee eh eee Ee RAN ne ne nenG eh Meret Merten tee esheets ae ete seme” BOER hi RgiGgiigh ty S%e Styl eS estas

Subscription Price YY
$2.50 a Year. No. 2 16.

Vol. 11. So Hoee Bisect, Maw wetk. ew York, August 17, 1895

 

 

     
 

     

oe oe SSS Z
Sas SSS SSS ZZ

CARL AND BOB UTTERED CRIES OF DISMAY. THE TIN BOX WAS EMPTY!
rT’ é,,' : yi * NN
THE RIVAL CANOE BOYS;
; ilies x 5
OR

WITH PACK AND PADDLE ON THE NIPIGON.

BY ST. GEORGE RATHBORNE,
Author of “Reckless Carl,” “The Gulf Cruisers,” etc., ete.

 

 

 

 

(“THE RIVAL CANOE Boys” was commmenced last week.]

CHAPTER V. | ‘*¥You believe Amos Turner is well ac-
quainted with this region?’’ asked Carl.
CARL SEES SOMETHING. ‘‘T am sure of it—he has camped right

here several times with parties, fishing these
Pe two young men sat in the darkness | waters.’’

 

 

ee for a time, talking in low tones, The} ‘‘Then he evidently knows this camp.’’
WITH GENTLE STROKES CARL AND BOB COMMENCED THE ASCENT sont ace 3 ver thas sae ee ee. ea ee ee Why ee
OF THE RIVER. new interest to develop. | ‘**Because I’ve an idea they are heading

 

 

 
    

    
     
   
  
 
     
  
    
   
  
   
  
   
  
   
   
   
  
    
   
   
   
 
  
   
  
   
  
  
 
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
   
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
   
  
   
  
   
    
   
    
   
  
  
  
  
  
   
    
  
  
  
   
  
     
   
   
  
   
    
  
   
   
   
 
  
   
   
  
   
    
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
   
   
 
  
 
    
   
 
  
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

4402

 

GoOoD

 

for this place, and will show up in an hour
or two.’’

*¢The mischief you say !’’

‘*Tf we are here, even in the dark, there
will be a collision.’’

‘*That’s true.’’

‘*] believe if they had the chance they
wouldn’t hesitate to slash the sides of our
canvas boat, so that at least we’d lose a day
mending it.’’

‘‘And a day’s start would give them the
prize. ’?

‘‘Exactly. On that account we
afford to let such a thing happen.’’

‘*Hardly.’’

‘*We must be willing to sacrifice our own
personal comfort in order to succeed.’’

‘‘T’m with you there, Carl.”’

‘*Then I have a proposition to make.’’

‘*You mean to desert this nice camp?’’

‘*What is your opinion, Bob?’’

‘‘T leave it in your hands. I’m ready to
paddle all night, if necessary.’’

‘*Oh, that doesn’t follow. We’re tired and
need rest. We’ll cross the river to a little
point I noticed above, where we must make
ourselves as comfortable as we can, hiding
the boat. Then, about an hour before day-
light, we’ll eat a cold breakfast from the re-
mains of our supper, embark, and be well on
our way when daylight comes. What d’ye
think of the idea???’

Bob pronounced it a capital plan. He had
the greatest faith in his companion, which
was founded on what he had seen him do in
times gone by, for they had been much to-
gether on hunting trips into the woods,

There was no reason why it should not be
immediately carried out.

They bade farewell to the fine camp, and
paddled quietly along until the point was
reached that projected from the other shore.
This was rounded, as their canoe would be
safer from observation on the farther side
in case a large fire should be built on the
river bank by the others when they arrived.

Carl proposed taking turns watching—at
any rate he meant to stand guard fora
while. Bob crawled under the blankets,
while his friend took one of the guns and
walked away.

He found a spot under the outer trees,
where he sat down to wait and watch. He
had plenty to think about, and besides, the
young fellow never grew weary listening to
the various noises of the night.

Perhaps Carl had been sitting at the foot
of the pine tree half an hour when he heard
voices. The sound came from the direction
of the lake. At the same time he caught the
odor of a pipe. Evidently he had not been
far out of the way when he guessed that the
others would also endeavor to make the
camp on the little river befére giving up for
the night.

He knew when they landed, and could
hear much of what was said, for the little
dude’s voice was shrill and piercing, and he
seemed rather petulant just then.

A blaze started up, and soon a fire had
full swing, a fire big enough to warm the
whole of outdoors, Carl thought. By its
light he could see the campers plainly.

Amos filled and lighted his pipe. Carl
watched him with some curiosity. Soon the
other came down to the edge of the water,
and seemed to be examining some marks
there, which Carl judged they must have
left when landing.

It was evident that Amos understood that
they had been here, eaten their supper, and
gone on. Would he enter the dug-out and
paddle up the dark river, hoping to discover
them? The task was not to his fancy, and
Carl found himself well pleased to see the
guide shake his head and turn back. The
fire was too cheerful to be deserted just
then.

Finally Carl saw Amos curl up among
some blankets of his own, and silence rested
over the camp under the hemlocks.

As all was a Carl could see no sense in
sitting up, so he crept in beside his friend,
and was soon sleeping soundly.

It was about the middle of the night
when he felt something grasp him.

‘*Carl!’? came in a whisper.

‘*What is it?’’ he asked.

‘‘!’ve been lying awake for some time
trying to make out what that strange sound
is. If I were down in Louisiana, I’d know
it came from an alligator, grunting in the
swamp. Listen, now you can hear it, and
again it dies away.”’

‘*Just as the breeze comes and goes.”’

‘*Perhaps. What can it be—one tree scrap-
ing over another, do you think?’’

‘*There isn’t enough wind for that,’’ said
Carl, sitting bolt upright and listening.

Presently he laughed.

‘“The breeze comes to us directly over the
camp on the other side,’’ he said.

‘“Well???

‘‘That camp is no longer empty.’

‘*How do you know???

‘*Bless you, my dear boy, I saw the dug-
out arrive, watched the fire go up, both of
them eat, and finally lie down to sleep.’?

‘*Oh! now I see’a light.’’

**Amos lies on his back and snores like a
bull.”’

‘Yes, I’ve been in camp with him.
mystery is explained. I’m off again.’’

With which Bob philosophically turned
over on his side and again wooed the gentle
goddess of slumber, an example Car] quickly
copied,

can’t

The

 

 

When Car! awoke again he had reason to
believe it was nearly dawn, There wasa
faint light in the east that told of coming
day, though the cohorts of darkness had not
yet scattered.

Arousing Bob, they proceeded to gather
their traps and load the canoe, careful to
make no sound that could be heard by those
in the camp wear by, in case they were
awake.

When all had been accomplished they
pushed out, and with gentle strokes com-
menced the ascent of the river. The gray of
dawn was spreading over land and water,
but a sort of mist hung like a veil over the
river and served in a measure to hide them.

The current was swift and it required con-
siderable hard work to urge the canoe on-
ward; but two stout paddles, handled by
those whom experience has taught how to
conquer hard tasks, can accomplish won-
ders, and they made good headway in the
direction where lay Cranberry Lake.

All the while the dug-out followed in
their wake, propelled by the muscular arms
of Amos Turner, with the dude captain
seated in the bow.

CHAPTER Vi.
THE THREE GUIDES.

  

less in volume, but they had no diffi-
culty in making their way along--
although narrow, the outlet of Cran-
berry Lake was deep enough. S

As the day began to wane the cruisers
grew anxious to see signs of the lake ahead.

It had been their hope to reach the lake
before dark, so that they could locate the
vache and secure the papers deposited there
years before—the papers which meant so
much to Bob Fletcher, since they would
bring him a fortune and a sweetheart.

As night came on they had to let this hope
slip away. .Bob thought it strange they did
not catch a glimpse of the lake, but as long
as Carl gave no sign of stopping his labor
he was willing to keép on.

Carl had discovered signs of an opening
ahead, and a number of things told him
they were near a body of water. That ac-
counted for his persistence with the paddle.

‘‘There you are, Bob,’’ he said, as they
suddenly swung around a point.

The lake was before them, but wrapped
in darkness. They could just see the reflec-
tion of the stars and the young moon on its
surface, which was exceedingly peaceful and
quiet, the great forests of hemlock border-
ing the lake preventing the soft night wind
from even ruffling its surface.

‘*Well, what shall we.do?’’ asked Bob.

‘That depends on you, old chap.”’

‘*We are near the cache, and possibly that
fellow might summon up enough energy to
make a run for it, He’s dead set in this
matter—I never saw him so determined,”’

‘*And he has a good guide—Amos can’t
be beaten by any of his kind. If paid well,
no hardships are too severe for him to
undertake,”’

‘‘Then if I decide to go on to the cache

”?

VAs the hours went on the stream grew
) )

  

‘*1’m with you every time.”’

‘‘Carl, you’re a friend worth having.’’

‘*Nonsense! You’d do as much for me
under similar circumstances, my dear boy.’’

‘“You can wager I will.’’

‘*Then, forward all!’’

The canvas canoe was soon floating on the
bosom of Cranberry Lake. Turning to one
side, the cruisers urged the boat along,
keeping near the shore for several reasons.
Bob had only a verbal description of the
cove where the cache had been made, and
he had to get several landmarks in order to
locate the place.

Slowly the boat moved along; the tall
trees stood outlined against the heavens like
grim sentries, their tops looking like the
serried files of soldiers in battle array.

‘*We must be near the place. Unless I am
mistaken, there should be a tongue of land
covered with trees, jutting out ahead. The
snug cove lies beyond it,’’ said Bob. ¢

‘Hark’?

‘*T declare, that was a man’s laugh, Carl.’’

‘¢We are not alone on this lake, then.’’

‘*How could they have overtaken us so
soon???

‘*You are wrong—that wasn’t Amos.’’

‘*You mean some one else—who can it be
—where are they located?’’

‘*!’m afraid fate is against us, Bob. Un-
less I’m considerably off in my reckoning,
there’s a fire beyond the spur of land you
speak of.’’

‘*Confusion! right in the cove!’’

‘* As true as you live, Bob. See, the light
shows between the trees now.’’

‘*That’s a fact. I’m disappointed. It may
throw us back, and we won’t be able to get
the papers before the others come.’

‘*Hold on, don’t give up so easily. First
of all, we'll see who these people are.’ .

‘‘We’ll put in here, Bob, and creep
through the trees until we can spy on the
camp.’?

Bob saw the wisdom of the suggestion,
and was quite willing to carry it:out. So
the canoe touched the lower side of the
tongue of wooded land, and was speedily
drawn up on the beach.

Upon leaving the boat they did not neglect
to take along with them the guns, for there

 

  

NEWS.

 

was no telling what might happen. Besides,

Bob carried a spade, which had been brought |

with the idea of utilizing it when they found
the lost cache.

After crawling along for a while the canoe
cruisers reached a spot where they could
survey the fire and those near it, Three men
were in sight, and their boat, a weather-
beaten, birch bark canoe, was drawn partly
up on the little beach near by.

-‘*They’re all guides,’? whispered Bob.

‘*Yes, I know one of them—Curt Willis.
He’s a hard drinker, though a good man
otherwise, ’’

‘‘Just the same with the others—I know
’em both, and they seem to be having a
particularly jolly time now.’?’

‘‘] don’t understand what they are doing
here—where are the gentlemen they came
out with?”’

‘*Gone back, I reckon. Perhaps these fel-
lows have returned to secure a basket of
wine they purloined and hid away while in
camp.”’

‘*It would be just like them all, I declare.
Yes, I believe you are right. See the bottles
—men of their stamp don’t buy such
things.’’

Bob seemed downcast.

‘*The worst of it is they’ve camped in the
place we want to dig. Unless I’m mistaken
in my calculations, that fire is on the very
spot where we look to find the cache.’’

‘*That’s rather tough, I admit, but all the
same I’m not going to give it up.’’

‘‘They’re three against two, and a hard
erowd at that when in liquor.’’

‘*Oh, I have no intention of a fight, Bob.
There are more ways than one of accom-
plishing the same end,’’ returned Carl,
wisely.

‘*Then you have a plan?’’

‘‘An inspiration, rather. It may work,
though. Do you recollect the time when I
hid away in that old house and frightened
all the rest of you nearly into spasms?’’

Bob chuckled at the thought.

‘*Do I—well, I shall never forget it. Such
an awful racket was never heard before. I

| think my hair stood up on end as [ ran like

the wind. If you try that game here, Carl,
the game is won.’’

Carl was not so positive, however.

‘*There is a difference between a pack of
boys and three woodsmen; used to meeting
danger,’’ he said.

A minute later the trio in camp heard a
long shuddering cry arise from the woods,
It was not unlike the weird call of the loon,
only three times more terrible, and it
brought every man of them on his feet
instantly.

They gazed around with intense fear
marked upon their faces. The fearful sound
rang out again, even more intensified, and
was succeeded by a series of discordant
shrieks such as might well chill the blood of
braver men than those who stood in this
lonely spot and listened.

Perhaps all of them might have been
brave enough before any tangible danger,
but the combination of ignorance, supersti-
tion and liquor was too much.

They were rooted to the spot with horror
for just about thirty seconds, during which
Carl’s unearthly cries grew more discordant.
Then the trio made one grand rush for the
water, sent the canoe afloat, tumbled in any
way, one even wading waist deep before he
could embark, and made off from that
haunted shore as though pursued by the evil
one.

Bob rolled on the ground and kicked in
the endeavor to restrain his laughter. Carl
crept out to the water and listened until he
was sure the three guides had really gone.

‘*Come,’’ he called to his comrade, ‘‘let’s
lose no time. Bring that spade here.”’

Alive to the business on hand, Bob sprang
to his feet. In another minute he was in the
camp, surveying the situation. He took his
bearings, and decided upon the spot to dig,
within three feet of the fire.

At length the spade struck something that
sounded like a tin box, such as- Bob had
beer’ told the papers were secured in, In
five minutes more he tossed out a rusty ob-
ject, fastened with a piece of twisted copper
wire. Eagerly Bob took this wire off, then
held his breath in suspense while Carl
snatched away the lid. Both uttered cries
of dismay !

The tin box was empty! Who had found
the cache before their coming?

CHAPTER VII.
READY FOR THE CIRCUS.

ITH the empty tin box lying there
between them, Carl and Bob pre-
sented a woe-begone picture. They

e) raised their eyes and looked at

each other. Bob was the first to give utter-

ance to his feelings.

‘*We’re too late, Carl—some one has been
here before us and secured the papers,’’ he
said, in a mournful voice.

Carl] nodded—he was thinking.

‘*You don’t believe they could have gotten
it by any means?’’ Bob continued.

‘*Meaning Felix and Amos?’’

‘¢-Ves,??

‘Impossible. They are still coming, and
if we hid ourselves here we’d see them dig.’

‘*Then the three guides?’’

Carl shook his head.

   

 

‘*Hardly possible—if they knew of the
place they might have dug it up, but you
can rest sure they’d never fill the hole up
again.’’

‘*But who could have found them? I
understood it was a great secret.’’

‘*For one, the man who told you.”’

There was a deep significance in Carl’s
voice, and Bob looked at him quickly.

**You suspect him???

‘*T don’t know who else to suspect.’

**But, Carl, see how preposterous—he
could have secured those papers at any time
and didn’t doit. Why should he make a
rush for them after telling me about it???’

‘*‘Why? Well, there may be various rea-
sons. He may have seen no value in the
papers until one Bob Fletcher was found.
Some sudden emergency may have made
him need money badly, and it came upon
him that here was a chance to get it. Let’s
take it for granted that he has the papers—
what will he do with them? Will it pay him
to approach the squire who is in full posses-
sion of the property, or you who may be
anxious to get in?’’

‘*T’m afraid he’ll conclude a bird in the
hand is worth two in the bush, and go to
the squire. ’”’

‘*That would be bad. The only way we
can remedy that is to keep watch about the
old Cleves homestead, and when this man
makes his appearance capture him. We have
the right and must do our level best to keep
that document out of the squire’s hands.’’

Bob picked up a little with this. A cheer-
ful companion is a great boon when mis-
fortune overtakes one.

‘‘Tf we could only be sure,’’ he said.

‘*You have never described this man to
me fully. Suppose you do now.’’

‘*A singular looking man, with a nose like
a hawk. He called himself Jason Jacks. In
stature he was tall. and raw-boned, with the
biggest feet I ever saw on a human being.’”’

Car] smiled.

‘*T'-wonder if he could beat this track.
Just cast your eyes here.’

Bob dropped down beside the foot-print
which was plainly marked in the damp sand.

‘No other man could have made that—
Jason Jacks has been here,’’ he declared,
emphatically.

‘* Another case of Robinson Crusoe finding
the foot-prints on the beach,’’ laughed Carl.

‘‘T only hope I'll be as lucky in meeting
my man Friday, that’s all.”’

‘*Shall we finish filling the bole, Bob?’’

‘*T’d leave it just that way.’’

‘*Wherefore?’’

‘*Well, these other fellows will come up,
and it’s just as good to have them think
we’ve got the papers.’’ ‘

‘*T see, and you’re quite right, too.
as well to throw them off the scent,’’

‘‘We can do nothing more here—suppose
we vamose the ranch?’’

‘“You mean head for home?’’

‘*Tt’s our only hope now.”?

They picked up the spade, cast one glance
around the scene, and started to make their
way:back to where the canoe lay.

Just as they broke out from among the
trees Carl uttered an exclamation of sur-
prise. At the same time there was a splash-
ing and the sound of retreating footsteps.
They caught a glimpse of a man’s figure
which was immediately swallowed up in the
brush.

‘*Well, I declare! That fellow was in the
act of stealing our canoe. A minute later
and we would have been in a bad fix.’’

Bob showed signs of excitement.

‘Did you notice that man, Carl? Was it
Amos or one of the three guides?’’ he de-
manded. ,

‘‘Now that you speak of it, I can’t say
that it was. The darkness is pretty strong,
but he looked taller to me.’’

‘“‘That’s it, Carl—do you now I declare I
believe it was Jacks.”’

His friend whistled to indicate his surprise.

‘‘What’s he roaming the wilderness for?
He must have met with some accident. Per-
haps he lost his canoe in the gale we experi-
enced on Lake Nipigon,’’ Carl suggested.

‘*A very likely thing. If that man was
Jason Jacks, our duty is plain.’’

‘*Yes, we must haunt these fine woods
until we can come face to face with him,
and make him deliver up the papers.’?’

‘Even at the muzzle of the rifle.’’

‘‘Why not—they belong to me. Jacks is @
thief, and must be treated as such.’’

‘‘Well, consider that settled. The question
now before the house is what’s to be done
about this pretty thing? In other words,
what shall be our next move?’’ ,

‘*T don’t think we had better go far away
for several reasons. In the first place, I
like to try and follow Jacks’ trail by day-
light. Then again, perhaps the others may
come up, and this fellow might attempt to
steal their boat.”’

Carl whistled his surprise.

‘‘A fact that missed me, and yet what
you say is apt to be true. We must remain
somewhere in the neig. dorhood.”’

‘‘T believe there ig nothing more to bé
done at this place??? _

‘*We’d better deca’ ip.”’ ;

They made'their way back to the point,
this time in the canoe, rounded it and
sought a hiding place beyond. If the others
came creeping along near the shore they
would not be apt to discover them.

Going ashore with some blankets,

Just

a bed

 

    

 

  

tint i a a a

aa” at

et and et

 

  

 
   

od

om 1 eS

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NEWS.

4403

 

was made, and they drew lots for first
watch. It fell to Carl, who philosophically
sat down with his back to a tree and waited.

When his ,time was up he awoke Bob and
took his place. In turn, about an hour later,
the other laid a hand on Carl’s face, and the
young cruiser opened his eyes instantly.

‘* Awake, Carl?’’ whispered his companion.

For answer the other crawled out of the
blankets and, groped for his gun, under-
standing that Bob would not arouse him un-
less there was a good reason for it.

‘“They have come,’’ added the sentry.

‘‘Just as I expected. Won’t some one be
disappointed though, when they find that
hole and the empty tin case?’’ chuckled
Carl.

‘‘Shall we. creep around and see the
show?”?

‘‘Why not—it’s a free blow-out.’’

The first act of Carl was to gather up the
blankets and place them in the canoe. His
object in so doing was plain enough. There
might be occasion for hurried action on their
part, and it was good policy to have matters
so arranged that there would be no delay.

Under the peculiar circumstances no one
could say what might turn up, and it paid
to be ready for an emergency.

This done, the two canoe voyagers began
to creep toward the cove just back of the
tongue of land that cut into Cranberry
Lake. That Bob had made no mistake was
already evident, for they could plainly hear
voices sounding upon the night, and as they
drew nearer the cove they even saw the
flash that proclaimed the lighting of a fire.

‘*Now we’ll see a circus,’’ whispered Carl,

CHAPTER VIII.

‘600K TO YOUR BOAT, AMOS TURNER!”’’

te S the flame increased they could see
the guide, Amos Turner, bending
over and aiding the flames with his
= robust breath. Near by sat the
dude sportsman, utterly weary, although he
had probably slept on the way. He sat there
looking eagerly about, as though the place
had a deep interest for him,

Just peeping into view, drawn up on the
beach, was the faithful dug-out that had
carried them to this spot.

The wood was a trifle damp, but the fire
began to catch better as the minutes went
past, and by degrees the light increased.
Amos suspended his imitation of a pair of
bellows, and turned to his employer.

‘‘Well, here we are, Mr. Darling. It’s
been considerable of a hard pull, but I was
bound to get here before I quit for the
night. When the fire jumps a leetle more, if
you take your bearings we’ll lay hold of
them papers quicker nor a jiffy and then get
some rest,’ °

‘‘This is a happy moment of my existence,
and rest assured I shall carry out the
promise made with regard to extra pay-
ments,’’ lisped Felix, in his affected way.

‘‘Oh, that’s all right—I an’t afraid of be-
ing left. But I say, Mr. Darling?’’

‘‘Well, what is it, dear fellow?’’

‘‘Don’t build too high on this matter.’’

‘‘Pway, explain. Perhaps I am smigularly
obtuse, but, by Jove! I’ve: gone ‘through
enough to bewilder any one less strongly
constituted.’’

The guide put his band to his face to hide
a pige grin, and after subduing it, con-
tinued :

‘‘T mean don’t bank too heavy on finding
them there papers here.’’

‘*Confusion, man! isn’t this the identical
place where they were deposited?’’ snapped
the dude.

‘‘That 1 don’t know; but it’s the cove you
asked about—the only one of its kind on
Cranberry.’’

‘‘Then what do you mean, Amos, by
chilling my blood in that manner? [If this
is the place, we must discover the coveted
articles,’’

‘Unless some sharper chap has been afore
us,’? remarked the guide, dryly.

Felix gave a groan, and scrambled to his
feet.

He surveyed his guide strangely, while his
little figure swelled with rage, just as the
lizard does when aggravated.

‘‘Suppose we look and find our p’ints?’’
suggested Amos.

‘‘Our what?’’ gasped Felix, not accus-
tomed to association with these rough boors
of the woods.

‘«Look for the cache.’

‘*T comprehend.”’

The counterfeit of a man again swelled
with the importance of his position. Up to
this time it had been Amos who had given
all the directions, because Felix knew noth-
ing of woodcraft or cruising, but at last
his time had come, and how he gloried in
it. A very small thing upsets a brain as
pecenerly constructed as that of the dude—-

is hair was parted so scrupulously near the
center that it did not take much to turn his
head,

He began in an offensive and stilted man-
ner to give orders, Amos scowled, but
smothering his choler, on account of the
good pay he was receiving, and his con-
tempt for the dude any way, carried out

‘what he was told,

Felix had his guide walk in an imaginary
line directly to a gnarled tree, then turn so

 

that he faced a double pine across the open-
ing.

** Advance ten paces, Turner. That is the
spot where the papers lie. When you reach
it stand just as you are. Then report, sir.”’

The guide stepped out.

After taking a number of paces he paused.

‘*Well,’’? drawled Felix, ‘‘what now, fel-
low???

‘*Nine paces, sir.’’

‘*T said ten.’’

‘*Can’t take the last one) sir.’’

‘*The duse you say. Jhat’s queer, now.
What’s in the way—no rattlers in camp, I
hope.’?

‘*Them’s something we don’t have up
here. I can’t advance ’cause there’s a sand
heap and a deep hole just in front of me,
sins?

Amos uttered these words with something
of savage satisfaction. He received his pay
whether success came or not, and the dude
had managed to make himself so very dis-
agreeable to his guide that the latter would
not lament very much if they failed to gain
what they sought.

As the meaning of the guide’s words
worked through the dude’s brain, he grew
excited again.

‘*Do you mean some one has outwitted
us? That the precious documents no longer
repose under this sand? My dear fellow,
bweak it to me gently. I’m delicately con-
stituted, you know, and a rude shock is apt
to injure my bwain.’’

Amos strode over to the fire, and picking
up a blazing brand, brought it close to the
spot where he had made his discovery. Felix
was not far behind him, for his interest had
by this time beey fully aroused.

When their eyes took in the result of Bob
and Carl’s energy, both of them grasped the
situation. It was not difficult to do this, as
the matter seemed very simple.

Amos’ lip curled, for he knew they were
beaten.. He kicked contemptuously at some
object upon which his eyes had rested.

As for the dude, he uttered a gurgling
cry, and sprang forward to pick up this
identical article. Of course it was the rusty
tin box. His gaze was fastened upon it as
though his whole soul must be filled with
horror.

‘¢Tost—all lost! This is the acme of de-
spair. Mazie is gone—that fellow wins her!
Bah!’ throwing the tin box down and
trampling on it with a vicious spirit in
keeping with his nature, ‘‘everythirg is
against me. I’m furious enough just at the
pwesent moment to——’’

He looked around him furtively as he be-
gan to turn back the sleeves of his canvas
coat.

‘*None of that, Mr. Darling. Take a man
of your size if you want to whip him, I’m
an orphan,’’ said Amos, pretending to be
alarmed, when he could have demolished the
little sportsman with one arm tied behind
his back.

Somehow his manner appeased the other,
who could not see the satire of it all. He
turned down the ends of his sleeves again.

‘*After all, it would be foolish to cripple
you, Turner, since I would haye to propel
the boat back myself. But I assure you I’m
in no trifling humor. I feel that I have been
basely wobbed, sir, after enduring the
beastly fatigues of this. tiresome journey,
and it’s lucky for him the perpetrator of
this outrage is not in my, sight at this mo-
ment, I should certainly chastise him
severely.’’

‘Well, Mr. Darling, that’s all very good,
but it an’t getting them papers back.’’

‘tGetting them back! Holy smoke! Mr.
Turner, do you mean to intimate there is
even the slightest chance of such a delight-
ful thing?’’

‘‘Perbaps. I’m willing to try and figure it
out if you say the word.’’

‘‘]’l] say a thousand words if——”’

‘¢Please don’t, sir. Let’s look close here
and see what marks there are.’’

He bent low with the torch.

‘‘Just as I thought,’’ he declared, pres-
we:

‘*What is?’’ asked the dude, eagerly.

‘‘See them tracks—made by Bob and
Osrt.:

Felix muttered something between his
teeth.

‘*They’ve been on this spot then—beat us
here in spite of our strenuous exertions?’’

‘tT reckon they has, seeing they were two
ag’in one, and in a light boat at that.’’

‘‘If these fellows have been here, where
are they now? Let us find them, and compel
them to hand over or destroy the papers
taken from this miserable tin box.”’

‘“That’s it, sir. You’re a regular Napoleon
when it comes to figuring out things.”’

‘‘That’s my forte, Amos. You possess the
brute strength, but the intellectual towers
far above that,’’ cried the little giant,
puffing out with pride, for Amos had at last
touched his weak point.

Before the guide could make any further
suggestion, a voice suddenly smote their
ears:

‘*Look to your boat, Amos Turner, if you
don’t want to be marooned on Cranberry
Lake! Look to your boat!’’

(TO BE CONTINUED. )
———__+-e-—e__—_—_—_

BOILED alligator flesh tastes very much
like veal. It is much eaten in India.

 

IN THE LION’S JAWS.

pee cite

A STORY OF UNLOOKED-FOR ADVENTURES.

a T was Monday morning in Hilton vil-
I: lage, after morning school. A groupof
! boys were standing, with their hands
in their pockets, staring ata _ parti-
colored placard, enlivened with illustrations
of animals, known and unknown, engaged
in most remarkable evolutions. It was an
announcement to the effect that Banger’s
Menagerie, of world-wide celebrity, would
appear for one day, and one day only, in
the favored village. Everybody was invited
to come; people generally were informed
that such a combination of attractions was
never before, and would never again, be
found in one menagerie, and were requested
to take particular notice that the charge
Upon This Occasion—with large capitals—
was only Twenty-five Cents.

‘*T shall go,’’ said Charlie Phillips, rattling
the contents of his pockets, ‘‘only I’ve got
no money.’”’

‘‘So shall I,’’ said George Bailey, ‘‘if I
can get some,’?

‘“‘] had some money on Saturday,’’ said
Harry Seymour, gravely, thinking the mat-
ter over; ‘‘but I don’t think my mother
will give me any more; I’ve had my pocket-
money in advance for I don’t know how
long.’’

‘*T wonder,’’ said young Ted Marshall,
standing by, ‘‘if they’d let us in half-price.
I’ve got five cents.”’

‘*That’s not half-price,’’ said Dan Owen,
who had not even that humble sum; ‘‘what
are you thinking of?’’

There was a pause, Their thoughts were
very simple—how, individually, they were
to raise that twenty-five cents. Banger’s
Menagerie was not a frequent visitor, and
to miss seeing it when it did come was not
to be thought of. Those pictures were grand,
the one representing a on standing on his
hind legs, knocking down an elephant with
one paw, while his mouth, turned toward
them, was opened so wide that they could
almost hear him, and with little effort of im-
agination fancy the elepbant walking down
his throat, was not to be sneered at, The
only question was about those quarters,

‘*‘] wonder,’’ said George Bailey, after
some reflection, ‘‘if they’d let us in for
nothing, and let us pay next time they
come around.’’

No one answered. They were inclined to
think Mr. Banger, benefactor of his species
though he might be, would scarcely see his
way clear to give them credit to that ex-
tent. So George Bailey wondered all alone.

‘*My father,’’ said Dan Owen, ‘‘will give
mea quarter, [ know, and you see if I
don’t go in this afternoon.’’

The others envied him. Their fathers,
they were afraid, would not give them ‘a
quarter, and they were tolerably sure that
they would not go in that afternoon. Still,
there is nothing like trying, and each went
his way, resolved to raise the money if the
thing were possible.

But when they were re-assembling for
school again, the conclusion had been ar-
rived at that it was impossible. One or two
fortunate ones had got the cash, but by far
the greater number had got nothing but very
plain hints that they had better not ask for
anything of the kind again. This was hard,
and there were those among them who felt
that fate to them was cruel.

‘‘TIt’s tyranny,’’ said George Bailey, who
had had. his ears boxed for persisting in his
petition; ‘‘that’s what it is. When I’m
grown up, and have a boy, I’ll let him go
to menageries, see if I don’t.’’

‘*Ah!’? said Dan Owen, who had the
money, and had come up to make his friends
comfortable by showing it to them, ‘‘my
father don’t mind; he’s given me the money
and he said I might stay away from school
this afternoon.’’

‘*Well,’’ said Charlie Phillips, whose tem-
per was not improved because Dan was
going, ‘‘a few afternoons away from school
won’t do you any harm, for a more ignor-
ant fellow, and a thicker head than yours, I
never knew.’?

But Dan said nothing. He Gould afford to
let them lose their tempers. Whistling
‘* Annie Rooney,’’ and with a sweet smile
upon his face, he walked slowly from them
in the direction of the menagerie. As soon
as he was gone Harry Seymour called Phil-
lips and Bailey aside, and broached to them
a Pree which had been fermenting in his
head.

‘‘T know,’’ he said, ‘‘I’m going, with the
money or without it, and you fellows can
come, too, if you are the sort that I take
you for.’’

They looked at him.

‘*What do you mean?’’ said Charlie; ‘‘you
don't think they’ll let you in for noth-
ing?

‘*T will tell you,’’ said Harry.

And he told them. His plan was very
simple: simplicity was its chief point, and
impudence as well. Money was to have
nothing to do with the matter. Harry’s
visit was to be strictly gratis. Nor was he
to go in with the crowd; his inspection was
to be a private one. In fact he proposed
that they should wait till the business of
the day was over, all the visitors were gone,

 

 

   

 

and the menagerie closed, and then creep in
when nobody was looking.

‘‘But supposing we get found out?’’ said
George, who saw the plan had drawbacks.

‘‘We sha’n’t be,’’? said Harry. ‘‘But
where's the harm, supposing we are.’’

‘*A great deal,’’ said George. ‘‘I’ve no
taste to be half pickled by a horsewhipping
if you have.’’

‘*Pooh !’? said Harry, ‘‘they daren’t touch
us? They’d never be able to come here
again if they horsewhipped us.’’

Which was what he said, he would have
found it hard to say on what authority.

‘*But,’’ said Charlie, starting objection
No. 2, ‘‘it will be so dark we shall be able
to see nothing.’’

‘“‘Ob, yes, we shall,’’? said Harry, who
was not going to have cold water thrown on
his scheme; ‘‘it will be light enough; it’s
never dark these nights, and they’re sure to
leave some lights inside. ’’

There was a pause, they walking around
the playground, each busied with his cwn
reflections.

‘*T don’t mind,’’ said George, finally an-
nouncing his decision; ‘‘it wouldn’t be half
a bad lark, and Ishould like to see the thing
at any price.’’

Charlie followed suit, so Harry had his
way.

Before going in all arrangements were
made. The trio were to meet at a certain
place at a certain hour, and then act as cir-
cumstances prompted them. Harry particu-
larly warned them to say nothing to any-
body else, on the ground that if their plan
got wind they would have a whole troop at
their heels, and then to attempt to escape
discovery would be hopeless. And then, on
the understanding that eath was to hold his
tongue, they parted for the afternoon.

Evening came, and with it a clear sky, a
bright moon, innumerable stars. The busi-
ness at Banger’s had been fairly brisk, as
good as he himself under the circumstances
could expect. Hilton was a small place, and
if a fair proportion of the inhabitants
patronized his unrivalled show he could
have no fault to find. But by ten o’clock
people had had enough of him and his men-
agerie as well, and, under the starlit
heavens, his keepers and assistants com-
menced the process of closing for the night.
This was the time for our three heroes.

Banger’s Menagerie had taken its stand in
the center of the village green. In one cor-
ner of the green was a clump of trees, grow-
ing close together, forming a convenient
shadein the daytime from the sun, at night
from passers-by. This was to be the rendez-
vous. George Bailey was first upon the
ground, and for some few minutes he had
the pleasure of cooling his heels and watch-
ing the last few stragglers departing from
the center of attraction. Then Seymour and
Phillips came up together.

‘*You’re a nice sort,’’ said George to
Harry, when he came up, ‘‘keeping a fel-
low waiting like this!’’

‘*Keeping you waiting!’’ retorted Harry;
‘‘who’s been keeping you waiting? we can’t
do anything until the coast is clear.’’

So they waited, taking care to keep be-
neath the shadow of the trees, and escape as
much attention as possible.

Time passed on. Banger’s visitors would
dawdle, and when the last of them had
gone, Banger’s people had their turn. They
showed not the slightest inclination to re-
tire; and, having put out the lights, haunted
the precincts of the show in a fashion
which did not at all meet the views
of our young friends. It was getting
late; time had passed; and yet there seemed
no chance of doing what they had come. to
do. The moon hung likea golden lamp over-
head, and under her light it would be im-
possible to escape detection from the sbarp
eyes of Banger’s assistants, resting after toil.
George Bailey was getting desperate.

‘*T sha’n’t stand much more of this,’’ he
declared. ‘‘I shall have my father looking
for me, thinking I’m drowned, or something
of that sort, if I don’t look out.”’

It was unpleasant to be kept waiting;
but then the folks at Banger’s did not know
they were in the way.

‘*Nonsense,’’ said Harry; ‘‘it’s no good
going home after all this trouble; it will be
all right in a minute: wait till the moon
goes under a cloud, and then we’ll make a
dash for it.”’

As luck had it, the moon did go under a
cloud soon after. The heavens were dotted
with fleecy travelers, and one of those com-
ing in her path, hid her from the world.
Then Harry gave the word to run for it.

Banger’s people had gone ‘for a time to
the other side of the menagerie, so, for the
minute, there was no one there to notice
them. Peeping out from among the trees to
see that all was safe, taking advantage of
their absence, Harry, passing the, word to
the others, with them pressing at his heels,
ran his hardest across the green. All three
bent low, and, if only somebody had seen
their flight, suspicion would have, been
aroused directly. But, as it chanced, there
was no one there to see, and they reached
the canvas goal of their ambition without
discovery.

Everybody knows what a traveling men-
agerie is like—a caravan in front, caravans
all around, anda canvas tent covering the
center. At least, such was Banger’s. They
reached the tent right at the back, and

 

 

 

 

 

 
    
     
    

   
      
  
   
    
   
   
  
  
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  
    
   
   
   
   
   
   
  
   
   
  
   
    
  
   
    
   
   
   
  
  
   
   
 
  
   
   
   
   
  
  
   
   
  
  
  
   
   
   

f Pa

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4404

 

CrOOr)D

 

paused a moment to recover breath, and con-
sider what next was to be done. So far they
were unobserved; but to stay where they
were was to court discovery every moment.

‘*Let’s see,’’ said Harry, ‘‘if we can’t lift
the canvas, and get under.’’

No sooner said than done. The canvas,
fastened down close enough in most places,
here and there hung quite loose, and with
little difficulty they raised it sufficiently
high to creep under on hands and knees.
Harry went first, Charlie second, George
brought up the rear.

‘Hallo!’ said Harry, as soon as he’ was
in; ‘‘what’s that?’’

He might well ask what that was; it was
a pretty hard bump of his head against a
harder substance. Not seeing where he was
going, he had carromed into one of the cages
which stood in his path. While he was rub-
bing his head, and wishing it elsewhere, a
stifled roar came from its inmate, sounding
so close to where they were that they gave a
start of alarm.

‘*Whatever’s that?’’ said Charlie, cluteh-
ing George, perhaps unintentionally, by the
elbow.

‘*T don’t know,’’ said George, comfort-
ingly; ‘‘I dare say it’s alion. My goodness!
if it were to get loose!’’

It was a pleasant suggestion. Where they
stood, contrary to Harry’s predictions, it
was at first so dark, that they could scarcely
see their hands in front of them. But, after
a while, when they became used to their
surroundings, the darkness somewhat faded,
and, in the dim shadow, they began to make
out the lines of the different cages, and
other objects, whose identity they could not

2

Harry, by cautiously putting out his hand
and feeling, had discovered that the backs
of the cages were to them, so that there was
little chance of any unwelcome curiosity,
whose capability of seeing in the darkness
was superior to theirs, putting out an unex-
pected paw, and making their acquaintance.

‘‘T say,’’? said George, who had not re-
covered from the shock that growl had
given him, ‘‘I thought yousaid it was going
to be light; what’s the good of coming if
there’s nothing to be seen.’’

‘*All right,’’ said Harry, ‘‘wait till we
get into the middle. I’ve got a box of
matches in my pocket; then we’ll have a
look about us.’’

It was very well saying wait till we get
into the middle, but it was what they found
it difficult to do. One and all were unwilling
to make a step in any direction, not know-
ing what they might step into or against.
It was not pleasant to know they were in
the midst of wild animals, whom they could
not see, but who, for all they knew, could
see them well enough. They began to think
that visiting a menagerie gratis might not
be altogether an unmixed happiness.

‘*It’s no good our stopping here,’’ said
Harry, truly enough. ‘‘Il’m going to chance
it,??

His mode of chancing it was to go down
upon his hands and knees, and make the
best way he could in that position. The
others followed his example. They found
that the cage in front of them was in reality
acaravan. Under it they crawled. When
they reached the other side Harry stood up.

‘*Shall I strike a match?’’ he said, doubt-
fully.

‘*Do, for gracious sake!’’ said Charlie,
still down on hands and knees. ‘‘I don't like
this sort of thing at all.”’

Taking his match-box, Harry proceeded
to light one, strangely enough, with rather
a shaky hand.

Scratch, scratch, went the match, flicker-
ing first, then bursting into a flame. It only
lasted a moment, then went out again; but,
in the instant it did last, the creatures about
them, either annoyed at the sudden illumi-
nation, or wisely suspecting everything
was not as it should be, burst into such a
discord of sounds that, in sudden terror,
Harry dropped the box from his hands, and
fell upon his knees, hoping to find, nearer
his friends, that security which he did not
feel elsewhere.

While the discord lasted they clung closely
together, expecting every moment the
keepers would come in, or something would
happen, and, at the least, they would be
discovered. But it was not so. The tumult
lasted a few seconds, then died away, and
all was still.

‘*Did you ever hear such a row in all
your life?’’ said Charlie Phillips, when he
had nerve enough to speak.

‘*No,’’ said George, solemnly, ‘‘never.’’

They waited to see if the noise would be
resumed; but all remained silent.

“‘T shall get out of this,’’ said Charlie,
breaking the pause. ‘‘I’ve had enough of
it. Sha’n’t I catch it when I get home!’’

‘**Don’t be such a donkey!’’ said Harry,
whose courage had somewhat returned, and
who did not wish such poor results as the
issue of his great scheme. , ‘‘Where’s that
match-box?’?

‘If you strike another match,’’ said
George, whose nerves were more disorgan-
ized than Harry’s, ‘‘I’71l——’’

‘‘What will you do?’’ said Harry, feeling
for the box. ‘‘Why, you’re a perfect muff!
Do you think, after taking all this trouble,
I’m going to back out of it without having
a sight of the creatures, man or no man?
No, thank you, not if I know it!’

Just then he found the box, as he pro-
ceeded to show by taking out a match.
George caught hold of his arm.

‘*Charlie,’’ he said, ‘‘don’t you let him!
we'll all get killed!’’

**You Molly !’’ said Harry, suatching his
arm away; ‘'do you think I’m afraid?’’

Before there was a chance for further
argument, the match was lighted and the
deed was done.

None, however, of the results followed
which George had feared, and Harry had
scarcely looked forward to with pleasurable
anticipations.

The animals had either had enough of
roaring, or else did not deign again to
notice the unusual light. They kept perfect
silence. Harry, with the flaming match in
his hand, stood up, and looked around him,
The others also inspected their position with
anxious glances.

They stood in an avenue, forming, in its
entire length, a circle, and before and be-
hind were cages. In fact, it was the men-
agerie, so placed as to give, in one walk
around, a complete view of all that it con-
tained.

Some of the cages were closed, either be-
cause they were empty, or because it was
the custom of the occupants to spend the
night in an Egyptian darkness. In some of
the others the occupants were wide awake,
performing a sort of hand-mill drill ‘Around
and around their narrow quarters.

Behind was the cage against which Harry
had bumped his head.

The inhabitant he declared to be a species
of foreign fox, Charlie maintaining it to be
a wolf, George a laughing-jackass. What-
ever it was—even if it was the latter—it

 

was an ugly-looking creature, perpetually
snarling as it paced to and fro bebind the
bars.

Gathering courage as they found no notice
was taken of their presence, George and
Charlie stood up by Harry, and together
they promenaded around the cages. It was
rather a trouble to have to keep on lighting
matches, especially as more than once Harry
burned his fingers by holding them too long;
but as he said nothing, it was not their
business to complain.

They had completed their round, and
were thinking of returning the way they
came, when Harry’s attention was caught
by a cage which stood close by. Presumably
it was a cage, though, as far as they could
see, it might be anything, for it was closed
in front by the side of the caravan, which
acted as a kind of lid to be opened and shut
at leisure. It was fastened at the top by a
large iron button. Near at hand stood a
pole,

‘*T wonder,’’ said Harry, lighting what
was nearly his last match, ‘‘what’s in here?”’

Before they knew what he was going to
do, he took the pole, raised it, and turned
the button around,

Down came the side, nearly crashing on
his head, striking his shoulder with sufficient
force to knock him down.

His fall, which knocked match and match-
box from his hand, probably saved him
from far worse than a blow; for almost sim-
ultaneously a tremendous roar filled the
tent, and, looking up, he saw a great ani-
mal bound out of the cage onto the ground
behind him.

The scene which followed was sufficiently
appalling.

The united noise made by the falling door,
and the roaring animal, effectually roused
every creature in the place.

The uproar, which would have been bad
enough in the day time, was rendered
worse by the darkness and the uncertainty
of their position. Harry, too frightened and
stunned to move, lay where he had fallen.

‘‘What was that?’ said George, all his
fears returning.

‘*A lion!’ said Charlie,; ‘‘let’s run for
it.’?

It was a matter in which they made no
scruple, and, dashi. g to the side, they left
Harry to manage.as best he could.

Harry always protested that the few min-
utes which followed were the most exciting
in his life, and itis not unlikely he was
right. ‘

There he lay, helpless in the dark, amid
the din of beasts, and at the mercy of he
knew not what. He could neither move nor
cry, and remained motionless for the course
events would take. He knew the creature
which had jumped from the caravan was
just near him, and when it came, actually
standing over him, and he felt its hot breath
on his face, he thought his fate was sealed.
How long it lasted he could not say; it
seemed to him hours; of course it was only
minutes. They wy. that on such occasions
time flies with leaden wings. Anyhow,
never was a more welcome sound than when
he heard footsteps approaching the tént, saw
the canvas lifted, anda man step inside
with a lantern in his hand. Then, for the
first time, to his exceeding terror, he found
that the animal standing over him was a
full-grown lion!

And it must have been a very well-satis-
fied lion, or else one well-bred, for it never
made the slightest attempt to injure him;
and when the new-comer saluted this king
of beasts with a heavy kick, he left him at
once, and crouched at his keeper’s feet. You

 

NEWS.

 

‘*Well,’’ said the man, holding up the
lantern, so as better to see his face, ‘‘you’re
a pretty one! Pity he never ate you, and
saved us butcher’s meat.’’

Harry thought otherwise, and made a

comfortable farther off.

‘*Hold hard,’’ said the man; ‘‘don’t you
be too fast; you’ve got him out, now you’ve
got to help to get him in again.’’

Going to the caravan, he struck his hand
against the bottom, and the lion, in obedi-
ence to the signal, sprang back from whence
he came. This was a new experience to
Harry, who had never thought lions could
be got to behave like that.

Lending a hand to lift the door which he
had been the means of bringing down, be-
tween them they fastened the lion once
more in his own apartment. Then, following
in the keeper’s steps, he quickly found him-
self in the open air, heartily glad to have
got out of the adventure with whole bones.

Without, he discovered his friends, George
and Charlie, in the custody of half a dozen
of Banger’s people, who had stopped them
in their flight. The great Mr. Banger was
there himself, and the young gentlemen
trembled for the consequences which yet
might follow.

Luckily for them, Mr. Banger had had a
good supper, and was in a good humor; and,
considering they had already suffered enough
punishment from fright, he let them off
with a warning not to try that sort of thing
again,

Taking to their heels as soon as they were
allowed, without offering much in the way
of thanks, they tore off homeward.

Their gratis and private view had not been
so successful as they had expected; and, if
the report told true, the greeting they re-
ceived at home was as warm as they de-

served,
—_—__—>-e-—e—__-
wy AND

‘How To Ho Tues.

EDITED BY DAVID PARKS,

__

THE ATALANTA RACE,

 

HE Atalanta race is a capital and pic-
turesque race. With, for example, six

y competing, it will be necessary to

provide six real or imitation apples,
These should be of fair size, with a leafy
twig attached, so that they may be better
seen, A distance of one hundred yards is
best to show off the ‘‘picking-up,’’ which is
the feature of the race.

After providing a couple of officials to
hold the winning-tape, let the competitors
get into position at the starting point. Care
should be observed in obtaining a graceful
attitude here. I suggest that the competitors
should toe the starting-mark with the left
foot, bend the advanced knee, and incline
the body forward; lift up the right hand to
the rear. When the apples are placed in
parallel lines in the center of the ground,
give the start, when the runners should
dash off. Their ‘‘start’’ or ‘‘get off’’ will be
assisted by bringing the right arm smartly
downward, and pushing with the right foot.
Run to the left side of the apple, and, as
you subeeee it gradually stoop, bringing
the right hand down to the side. As you
pass the apple, extend the fingers and pick
it up, continuing your run until the win-
ning-tape is reached.

If by any mischance, the apple should be
‘‘muffed’’ or dropped, the competitor must
pick it up before returning to the end of the
race. This picking-up should be specially
practiced, as it requires great skill to do it
to a nicety and at full speed. Butif you
confine your efforts, first to a walk, then a
gentle run, and finally at a quicker rate,
you will soon master the awkwardness of
the movement, and be able to pick it up at
top speed. After the first race, the same
apples will, of course, be replaced for the
next and succeeding heats. .

Another and much more difficult aspect of
the race is called ‘‘the ring and apple race,”’
Six small hoops, made of card-board, cane,
or anything which is discernible, and being
about nine inches in diameter, should be
laid flat down onto the center of the ground,
and in the places previously occupied by the
apples.

F he runners toe the line as before. They
should, however, each hold an apple in their
right hand. When the start is given, they
run off, keeping to the left side of their ring.
As they approach the ring they gradually
stoop down, and, as they pass, place the
apple in the ring with the right hand. They
continue racing until the end of the course
is reached, ‘Then suddenly turning around,
they must continue running, making for the
left side of the ring. As they approach the
ring, they gradaally stoop, and as they re-
pass the ring, they must pick up the apple,
and take it to their original starting-place,
which in this case will be the winning-post
also,

This is a most skillful race, full of diffi-
culty in laying down and picking up the
apple. Plenty of ‘‘muffing,’’ as a rule, takes
place, either with the apple rolling out of
the ring when being placed there, or in

 

 

may be bound Harry was up before you
could say Jack Robinson,

picking it up on the return journey. In
each case the conditions should be rigidly

#

move by way of showing he would be more’

 

enforced, and the competitor obliged to re-
turn and perform the task correctly. Special
practice should be giyen to the various
points, such as ‘‘stoopizg,’’ ‘‘picking-up,”’
and ‘‘turning,’’ when I have no doubt but
that you will be well pleased with this skill-
ful and exciting race.
THE PEDESTAL.

The object of the game is to mounta
pedestal and throw a disk or quoit the
greatest distance without losing your bal-
ance or coming off the pedestal.

First let us secure the quoit. This should
be the shape of an ordinary one, only much
heavier. Ora bag of peas or beans may be
substituted. An ordinary stool will suit very
well for the pedestal.

Let the markers have several small pointed
sticks to place in the ground where the
‘*throw’’ falls.

Now for the best method of throwing.
Mount the pedestal. Keep the quoit resting
in the left hand until you are quite ready
for action. Now, place the left toot for-
ward, pointing slightly to the left, with the
right foor to the rear, the feet being almost
at right angles with each other.

Now, hold the quoit, edge to the front,
with both hands close to the chest, and,
suddenly extending the arms in front, loose
with the left hand, swinging the quoit back-
ward, passing the right side until it is well
to the rear. On its return to the front, bend
both knees, and lean the body forward. As
the quoit leaves the hand, assist the effort
by straightening the knees and body. When
the quoit has left the hand, lean well back
on the right leg to prevent losing your
balance. You must wait on the pedestal
until the judge has marked your throw.

This contest can either be made an indi-
vidual competition, where each competitor
has his ‘‘throw’’ marked, or a ‘‘team con-
test.’’ In this latter case, a team consisting
of, say, six a side, compete. A boy from
each team would go on alternately, and
after all had made their throws, the record
of each would be added together, the team
gaining the greatest aggregate distance
being the winners,

A variety in the competition is afforded,
by throwing the bag over the head back-
ward, The quoit had better be discarded in
favor of the bag, as, since you cannot see
where you are throwing, it might simply go
perpendicularly upward and downward on
your own head, or you might throw it among
your friends, and cause a stampede. Let it
be a bag then.

The best way to throw this is to hold the
bag by the sides. Then, placing your feet
well apart, not behind each other, stoop to
the front, bend both knees as the bag passes
slightly through the legs. Then in the re-
turn swing, suddenly raise the body upright,
and throw the bag over the head. As the
bag leaves the hands, counteract the inclina-
tion to fall backward by projecting both
knees well to the front. Retain your balance
until the throw has been registered. This
style can also be competed for individually
or in teams.

,THE DUMB-BELL RACE.

The ‘‘dumb-bell race’? is so full of exer-
cise, speed, activity, and coolness that I
think you are sure to like it.

The apparatus required will be six baskets
and six rows of dumb-bells—about three
pairs for each competitor.

Place the baskets behind the competitors
at the starting-line. Then place six rows of
dumb-bells in front, at about ten yards
apart if a*hundred yards race, and at
shorter intervals if in a shorter race; then
let the competitors take up their positions.

The object of the race is that each com-
petitor should run and collect up the dumb-
bells placed on his line, and return with
them to the basket. Whoever does so first
will be the winner.

Now as to the manner of picking them
up. At the word ‘‘off,’’ the competitors
should run to the first dumb-bell, pick it
up, run back and place it in the basket
without losing any time; run off again and
bring back number two dumb-bell, and

lace it in the basket; off once more, and
tae back number three, then number four,
then five, and, finally, the sixth and last
dumb-bell. Thus all the dumb-bells will
have been collected alternately, and placed
in the basket belonging to each competitor.
If the dumb-bells should by any chance not
go in, or be missed being placed there prop-
erly, the runner must make good the default
by putting it in correctly, or otherwise be
disqualified.

Sometimes the option of picking up any
dumb-bell in any order they please is aske
for, some runners being able to collect them
better in this way. If this is agreed to, the
runner may run and collect whichever
dumb-bell he prefers first; but in every case
only one must. be collected at a time, and
each run be made separately to and from
the basket, For effect, we think the first
plan looks the best, although it may be 4
little slower than the optional method. :

There are several methods of varying this
race. One is to ‘‘place the dumb-bells
down.’’ In this case, all the dumb-bells be-
longing to each line are collected and placed
in their respective baskets. In their places
are laid down small rings or hoops, about
nine inches in diameter. The object of this

 

 

 

 

 

        
  

      

   
 
  

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game is to take the dumb-bells separately
out of the basket and place them in the
rings; whoever succeeds in the task first to
be hailed the winner. The runners must, of
course, observe the same rule as before, and
only place one dumb-bell down at a time,
returning for the remainder separately until
all are placed. This race and the first way
can be performed conjointly, but it is very
severe. In this case the ‘‘placing-down’’
would be performed first, and the ‘‘picking-
up’’ secondly; and to prevent confusion as
to the carrying out of the rules, option of
picking up any dumb-bell should not be
allowed.

Another method is ‘‘the gathering race.’’
In this the competitors start as before de-
scribed, run and pick up all the. dumb-bells
in one journey, returning with them as soon
as possible to their respective baskets. If
any bells are dropped, they must be picked
up by those dropping them before they are
legally in the race again. The basket, too,
must not be overturned while the dumb-
bells are being placed in. ;

Perhaps the most difficult and at the same
time most amusing ph deat is to use boys
instead of dumt-bells. ach boy should
stand within a small ring on the places
usually occupied by the dumb-bells, stiff
and rigid at the position of attention, until
the runner comes and carries one away, de-

ositing him behind the starting line while
ie returns for the others.

Another way of performing this race is to
have arunner for each boy to be carried.
Thus, if there are six boys standing in each
line, there’should be six runners behind each
other, and as number one boy is carried
away and placed behind the starting line,
number two should make off and fetch
number two boy. As soon as he is over the
starting line nuniber three should start
away and fetch number three, and so on,
until all have been removed; the team
bringing their boys over the line first being

.the winners.

 

[This Story Will Not be Published in Book-Form. }

LOYAL TO NAPOLEON:

THE YOUNG SPY OF FOUCHE.

BY ALFRED ARMITAGE,

Author of “With Crusader and Saracen” and
“In the Days of the Gladiators.”

o———

 

{‘‘LOYAL TO NAPOLEON” was commenced in No. 265.
Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents. }

 

CHAPTER XXXIV.

THE CAPITULATION OF ULM, AND ONE OF
ITS TERMS,

S Captain Jouillard spoke Napoleon
urged his splendid steed forward,
\¥ and at once the entire mounted staff
Z. were in motion. At the foot of the
slope they wheeled, and then rode on a
gentle gallop along the line, greeted by the
crash and blare of the regimental bands.
They took their stand on the crest of a
mound that lay near the town, and as the
bands ceased to play, a strange and ex-
pectant silence fell on all the scene.

This lasted but a sbort time. A single gun
boomed loudly, and as the smoke curled up-
ward the gates of’ Ulm opened, and out
marched the head of an Austrian column.
Slowly and sadly they passed the mound,
corps after corps stopping to pile its arms,
and then the long line of white uniforms
wound on across the plain into the hazy dis-
tance. }

Regiment followed regiment, infantry and
cavalry, and in the rear of the disgraced
and humiliated army came four thousand
horses, seventy pieces of cannon, and a
lengthy train of ammunition wagons. It
was truly a glorious day for France, as the
imperial bulletin announced that evening.
The entire garrison of Ulm, hemmed in by
the most brilliant of strategy and forced
marches, had capitulated without a blow.
The Austrian empire seemed to be prostrate
at the feet of Napoleon.

The victors, to their honor be it said, re-
frained from any manifestations of triumph
that might add to the bitterness of their
fallen foes. It was a harrowing spectacle,
and even Napoleon seemed deeply moved.
Lucien and Captain Jouillard, who chanced
to be very near him, could see the look of
compassion on his proud face. In his eyes,
however, was a flash and fire that ‘showed
him to be not insensible to this last great
tribute to his military genius.

With the exception of a few staff officers,
the surrender was a surprise to the whole
army, and when the soldiers were drawn up
on the plain that morning they supposed
that @™review was to be held. That the
fortress town of Ulm, with its immense
garrison and siege defenses, would yield
without a struggle did not occur to them
until the retreat had actually begun.

For several hours the steady and melan-
choly march past continued, and'‘as the rear
guard of baggage and ammunition carts
were rumbling through the gates a mounted

 

Austrian officer was seen spurring his horse
to get by them. He rode straight to the
mound, and as he passed Lucien and Cap-
tain Jouillard they saw that he was a,hand-
some, elderly man, with grief and Humilia-
tion stamped plainly on his features.

The staff officers fell apart a little to let
the Austrian advance. With a grave bow
he checked his horse in front of the emperor
and delivered his sword.

For several minutes they conversed in
tones that were too low to be heard, and
then Napoleon sent word by an aide-de-
camp to Lucien and Captain Jouillard that
he desired to see them.

They rode to the spot, saluted, and stood
at attention. .

‘“You may be aware, Captain Jouillard,’’
the emperor began, in a low tone, ‘‘that a
number of Frenchmen who took service
under the Austrian flag were among the
garrison of Ulm. .Some of these men were
banished for disloyalty and conspiracy, and
were permitted to leave France on_their
sworn oaths that they would not again take
up arms against their country.”’

‘*And they have done so, sire?’’ exclaimed
the captain.

‘*Yes,’’ said Napoleon, with a frown of
anger, ‘‘they have sworn falsely. By the
terms of the capitulation, however, those
who come under that class were to be sur-
rendered unconditionally. I am informed
that the clause has been faithfully kept, and
that the prisoners are now confined in the
guard-room of the town hall. Take a com-
pany of hussars and bring the men to head.
quarters. But do it without attracting at-
tention, and keep your orders a secret.
Lieutenant Bellair will accompany you, and
Colonel Hapsburg, this Austrian (officer, will
serve as your guide.”’

At the mention of his name the Austrian
bowed courteously, though a sudden flush on
his pale cheeks showed how distasteful the
order was to him. Lucien and Captain
Jouillard were scarcely more pleased at
being assigned to arrest these recredant
Frenchmen, but without hesitation they
saluted the emperor, and spurred their
horses down the hill.

The three rode along the lines to the
cavalry division to which the Eighth Hus-
sars was attached, and a moment later Lu-
cien’s own company wheeled out of ranks at
the word of command. All eyes were turned
on the little party as they galloped toward
the town, the Austrian officer, conspicuous
in his white and gold uniform, riding be-
tween Lucien and Captain Jouillard, while
the hussars pranced_ behind in files of four.

They entered the gates of Ulm as the last
of the ammunition wagons were coming out,
and as they rode on through the narrow
streets they marveled at the loneliness and
silence of the town. Many of the citizens
had preceded the garrison several days be-
fore, and those who remained kept behind
closed shutters, fearful of outrage and in-
vasion from the French. It was like a city of
the dead, except for a slinking figure here
and there in the distance.

‘‘This way, messieurs,’’ said Colonel
Hapsburg.

e wheeled his horse into a street on the
left, and a short distance farther brought
the party to the town hall. Here were more
signs of life than had yet been met with,
and it was evident at a glance that some-
thing tragic had recently ‘happened.

A grated iron door that led to the base-
ment at one side of the main entrance to the
building seemed to have been broken open.
An Austrian soldier lay dead on the pave-
ment, and another, sorely wounded, was
propped against the wall of the house, at-
tended by a lieutenant and a private of in-
fantry, and a little man in black who looked
like a surgeon. In the background stood a
knot of towns-people, too much interested to
flee at the approach of the French.

As the troop halted at the bugle call, the
Austrian lieutenant looked up from the
wounded man, and then came slowly for-
ward.

‘‘Colonel, the prisoners are gone,’’ he
said. ‘‘I did my best, but it was no use——”’

‘*Gone?’? muttered Colonel Hapsburg,
flushing with anger and mortification.
‘*Impossible !”? .

‘*T must have an explanation of this,’’ ex-
claimed Captain Jouillard. ‘‘It isa violation
of the treaty, and the emperor will never
consent to overlook it.’’

‘*Messieurs, I entreat you to believe that
my sorrow is as deep as your own,’’ replied
the colonel. ‘‘But let us first learn the truth,
and perhaps we may overtake the fugitives.
It is clear that they have broken out by
force, and I am satisfied that they will not
dare to join the garrison.’’

‘*No, they have gone the other way,’’ said
the lieutenant. ‘‘It happened thus, colonel,
and little blame to me. One of my own men,
Wetzel, was the traitor, and I’ll swear he
was bribed to it by Count Berg, who was on
the best of terms with the French officers.

ou know——’’

‘*Make haste, man, and tell your tale,’’
thundered the colonel... ‘‘There is no time to
lose.’’

‘All right, sir,’’ replied the lieutenant.
‘*As I was about to say, I heard a cry for
help around in the next street, and thither I
hastened with Privates Rouss and Kellar,
only to find nobody in sight. Then I smelt
a trick, and when we came back here ina

      

 

hurry, Wetzel, who was on guard, had just
let the prisoners loose. He didn’t have the
keys, but he had helped to break in the door.

‘‘Well, what could we do? Of course we
tried to stop the rogues, and we paid dearly
for it. Rouss was killed, and over yonder
lies poor Kellar with a hole in his chest. I
followed the party as far as the residence of
Count Berg, where they stripped the stable
of horses and rode like mad for the east
gate. The count was not to be found, and
none of the citizens would lift a finger to
go in pursuit. And small blame to them,
sir! These Frenchmen, I make bold to say,
wore the Austrian uniform, and they should
have been treated as the rest of the garri-
son.

‘‘Silence, man!’’ cried the colonel. ‘‘You
are talking treason. It was a matter of
honor that the treaty be kept, whether
right or wrong. When did this daring es-
cape occur? Quick!’’

‘*Scarcely half an hour ago,’’ the lieu-
tenant replied. ‘‘The fugitives can’t be far

aro:

‘*Then we may overtake them yet!’’ cried
Captain Jouillard. ‘‘Don’t you think so,
Bellair?’’

‘“Yes,’’ said Lucien: ‘‘if they left by the
east gate they will almost certainly push
down the Danube in the direction of Vienna.
Let us start at once. We have no orders to
that effect, but we must risk it.’’

‘‘It is a wise course, messieurs,’’ ex-
claimed Colonel Hapsburg, ‘‘and with your
permission I will accompany you. I deeply
feel this stain on the honor of my country,
and [——”’

‘*No, no, sir,’’? interrupted the captain.
‘‘This is expecting too much of you, and,
besides, it would be an unpleasant duty. I
beg-that you will hasten back to the em-
peror, and relate to him what has occurred.
In that way you can best serve us.’’

‘“‘T thank you, gentlemen,’’ replied the
colonel, with a look of gratitude, ‘‘and I
beg to assure you that if Count Berg is in-
volved in this disgracetul affair he shall be
properly punished. I am inclined to suspect
him, since I remember that he is related by
marriage to one of these French officers. I
shall return, then, to your emperor, first
craving permission to guide you to the east
gate.’

‘Which offer we gladly accept,’’ replied
the captain. ‘‘By the way, how many do
the party number?”’

‘Nine, sir,’? answered the lieutenant.
‘*Here is the list.’’

Captain Jouillard tookjthe paper, and, as
he read the names, he gave a sudden start.
He thrust it into his bosom, and shot a swift
and meaning glance at Lucien. The com-
mand to start fell from his lips, the bugle
blared, and with a clatter of hoofs and
jingle of equipments the troop galloped
away from the town hall of Ulm.

The east gate was soon reached, and here
Colonel Hapsburg turned back. At a furious
pace Captain Jouillard and Lucien led their
eager comrades along the hilly but well-kept
road that followed the north bank of the
Danube.

CHAPTER XXXV.
A CHASE DOWN THE DANUBE,

7 OR the first mile scarcely a word

' was spoken. With steady and rapid

clatter of hoofs the hussars pounded

on and on along the highway. In

front the constant dipping of the road

limited the view ahead to a very narrow

extent. On the right was the broad, swift-

flowing Danube, and to the left rose steep

and .wooded hills, with here and there a

cluster of houses nestled at their base, and

a battlemented castle or old ruin towering
from their summits.

But peasants and land-owners alike had
long since fled before the French as from
a pestilence, and the few who remained kept
out of sight. The country seemed deserted;
vineyards, fields, and farm-yards were as
dead and gue as though they rested under
the spell of some mighty magician.

‘‘We have passed several cross-roads lead-
ing into the hills,’’ said Captain Jouillard,
at length, ‘‘and though the fugitives would
hardly have turned off the highway one can
never be sure. It is the duty of a good
soldier to watch every loophole of escape.
Yonder in that little ravine is a mill, and
I’li swear I saw a shutter open and close
just now. Suppose we get hold of the fel-
low and make him tell us if the party have
gone by, and how long ago.’’

‘We won’t get much out of him,’’ replied
Lucien, ‘‘for I have heard that these Aus-
trian peasants are intensely loyal. If he tells
us anything it will be a clever lie. Pardon
me, sir, but I think we had better push
rapidly on, and not lose a minute’s time.’

‘‘Why, my lad?’’ asked the captain.

‘‘Because it is not likely that the fugitives
have any dread of being pursued,’’ Lucien
replied, ‘‘and in that event they will ride
leisurely, to spare their horses, nor will they
think it necessary to turn off from the river
highway. That, at least, is my opinion——”’

**And a very shrewd and sound opinion it
is,’’ exclaimed Captain Jouillard. ‘‘Par-
bleu! you shoulda be the leader and I the
lieutenant. I quite agree with you. At any
moment, then, we may expect to catch a
glimpse of our renegade Frenchmen.’’

 

‘Unless they run against an outpost of
the enemy that considerably outnumbers our
force,’? said Lucien. ‘‘We are pretty far
from Ulm now, and for all we know thé
country ahead may be swarming with Aus-
trian troops. And then we have exceeded
our instructions, and are acting without
orders. I confess that I am worried.’’

‘““You need not be, so far as our orders
are concerned,’’ replied Captain Jouillard.
*“We are doing what the emperor would ap-
prove, and whether we succeed or fail we
need not fear a rebuke. As for the danger
of being gobbled up by the enemy—why,
that is another matter, I confess. It is likely
that small detachments of Austrian troops
are hovering about between here and
Vienna, but there may be none within fifty
miles of us. On the contrary, we may stum-
ble on their pickets at any minute. How-
ever, so long as no danger is in sight we
will push on. The emperor is desperately
anxious to get these fellows into his hands,
and I'll warrant they won’t be turned loose
a second time.’’

‘‘He shall have them if we can possibly
accomplish it,’? said Lucien. ‘‘To do Napo-
leon a service 1 would stick to the saddle
from here to Vienna.’’

‘‘Until you dropped off from exhaustion,”’
suggested the captain. ‘‘It is pretty nearly
three hundred miles to Vienna.’’

Another hour passed, and still there was
no sign of life on the far stretching white
highway. Under the mellow October sun
the hussars clattered on and on through the
morning, their officers never losing confi-
dence and hope, though they knew by this
time that the fugitives were not sparing
their steeds. Ulm fell miles behind, and by
noon the traces of civilization had mostly
disappeared. To right was the blue and
turbulent Danube, with not a single boat
floating on its surface; to left were wooded
and rocky hills, with here and there a dark,
lonely ravine that gave back in echoes the
pounding of the hoofs.

“Tt won’t do to advance much farther;’’
said Captain Jouillard, as the troop were
drawing near to the crest of a long slope.
‘‘T begin to think that the Austrian lieu-
tenant at the town hall deceived us about
the time, and that the fugitives had a much
longer start than we supposed.’’

‘Or perhaps I was wrong,’’ replied Lu-
cien, ‘‘and they have turned off into the
hills. It looks that way now, and—no, there
they are at last! What good fortune! And
they have not seen us yet. Stop before they
take the alarm.’’

He checked his horse with a jerk, and
caught hold of the captain’s bridle.

‘*Halt, men,’’ he added, turning around
in the saddle, and at the word of command
the hussars pulled up short.

It was a glad sight that met the eye of
officers and men. Their heads were a foot or
two above the level of the hill- crest, which
was only a few yards in advance. Beyond
that was a deep hollow—into which the
road dipped—and near the top of the oppo-
site lying hill, considerably less than a mile
away, a dy of horsemen were trotting
leisurely forward. There were exactly nine
in the party, and beyond doubt they were
the escaped Frenchmen.

They probably did not take the precaution
to look back, and had they done so it is not
likely they would have spied the heads of
the hidden hussars. They rode on to the
hill-top, crossed it, and vanished from sight
on the farther side.

At that instant the word to advance rang
out, and away went the gallant hussars ‘in
hot pursuit, led by Lucien and Captain
Jouillard. Down the long hollow and up the
other slope they galloped; then over the
hill-top, and with a blare of bugles they
pressed on the heels of the terrified and
amazed fugitives.

The road ahead was now fairly level and
good, and the foremost party of horsemen
spurred on at a furious speed, bent on es-
caping their pursuers; they doubtless knew
what fate awaited them if they were cap-
tured.

But the hussars came on even more
rapidly, and in the first half mile of the
chase the intervening distance, lessened from
several hundred yards to as many feet. On
one side was a rocky cliff overhanging the
river, and on the other were unscalable
hills. The fugitives, driven to desperation,
wheeled in their saddles as they rode and
emptied a volley of pistol shots at their foes.

The officers escaped, but one of the hus-
sars pitched headfirst to the ground, and
another was shot in the arm. The troopers
returned the fire, and two of the fugitives
fell from their saddles. Lucien galloped over
one of them a moment later, and was
startled to recognize the Chevalier de
Florin. He was still more surprised when
the two rearmost fugitives turned to fire,
and he saw the faces of Jules St. Maur and
Count Jusserand.

‘*Look!’’ he cried. ‘‘Do you recognize the
traitors, captain? It makes my blood boil to
see them in the Austrian uniform.’’

‘‘T knew they were there,’’ replied Cap-
tain Jouillard. ‘‘We shall take them back
with us, never fear. They can’t escape.
They are making an ugly resistance though.
When they shoot duck your head.”’

This was a wise precaution, and by ob-
serving it constantly, Lucien and the cap-
tain probably saved their lives, since they

 

   

 

 

 
    
   
    
    
   
   
    
   
    
  
  
  
     
    
   
    
 
    
     
  
   
     
    
   
  
     
   
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
   
  
   
   
    
  
  
    
    
    
   
   
  
    
    
  
  
  
   
  
     
  
   
  
   
  
  
  
 

 

 

 
 

 
 

 

  

ALOS

 

GrooDp

NEWS.

 

were invariably singled out for marks.
Pursuers and pursued thundered on for ten
minutes, during which time the intervening
distance remained the same. A straggling
fire was interchanged, but with little effect
considering the number of shots. The road
was level, and half a mile in the distance
the spires and roofs of a village rose from
the trees.

‘‘On, on, my good fellows!’’ shouted Cap-
tain Jouillard. ‘‘We must close and finish.
The emperor wants these men alive, remem-
ber !’?

The troopers answered with a ringing
cheer, and as they urged their foaming
steeds on the distance began to lessen.
Nearer and nearer hove the fugitives, still
firing wildly. Jules and the count were yet
in the rear, and Lucien could have shot both
had he chosen. He had several narrow es-
capes from their pistol balls.

But just when another moment must have
seen the French and Austrian uniforms
mingled together in a hand-to-hand conflict,
a roll of drums vibrated on the air, and
from the edge of the village, scarcely a
quarter of a mile away, advanced the head
of a column of Austrian infantry.

Lucien saw them, and the sight only
stirred him to recklessness. He hesitated a
brief instant as a pistol ball struck Captain
Jouillard’s horse and sent steed and rider to
the ground. Then, with a hoarse cry, he
spurred madly forward after Jules St. Maur
and Count Jusserand, bent on arresting their
flight.

He was deaf to the warning and imploring
shouts of his comrades—to the bugle recall
behind. and the roll of drums and fire of
pistols in front. He gained rapidly, and was
soon at the very heels of the fugitives.

‘‘Surrender!’’ he cried, as he unsheathed
his sword.

With a mocking laugh and a vile epithet,
Jules turned in the saddle, presented his
pistol, and pulled the trigger. Lucien saw
the flash, and felt a stinging pain. Every-
thing grew dark as he reeled and fell.

CHAPTER XXXVI.
THE BATTLE OF AUSTERLITZ,

eee

7 a HEN Lucien came to his senses he
XX \ J was lying on a cot, under a roof

) of white canvas. The tent wasa

~ large one, and when he turned bis
eyes he saw other cots occupied by wounded
men. He felt very weak, and his head,
which was wrapped in bandages, pained
him terribly.

At first he was puzzled and confused, but
memory quickly returned, and the recollec-
tion of what had happened stirred up a
fierce anger against Jules St. Maur. He
was thinking of the chase along the Danube
road when he suddenly became aware that
Spado was standing at the foot of the cot,
regarding him intently.

‘*Ah, you are better, sir!’’ exclaimed the
negro, ina tone of delight. ‘‘Will you eat
something???’

‘*T have no appetite,’’ said Lucien. ‘‘But
tell me, my good fellow, how long have I
been here?’’

‘‘Since last evening, sir. It is now four
o’clock in the afternoon.’’

‘*More thun twenty-four hours, then. And
where is Captain Jouillard?’’

‘Right here, my boy,’’ replied that officer
for himself, as he entered the tent. ‘‘I am
glad to find you conscious, as the surgeon
predicted you would be. You have hada
narrow escape of it, and—no, no, don’t ven-
ture to move. You must keep very still, if
you want to get on your legs again.’’

‘*Am I badly hurt, then?’’

‘*That young ruffian’s bullet plowed along
the side of your head,’’ replied the captain,
‘tand very nearly shattered the bone. We
thought you were dead, but one of the hus-
sars threw you across the saddle in front of
him, and I jumped up behind another—my
horse was shot under me, you remember—
and thus we made a safe retreat back to
Ulm,”’

‘And the French traitors?’’ asked Lucien.
‘*Did you get them?”’

‘*Two were shot,’’ replied the captain,
‘*but the rest escaped to the Austrians.’’

‘*Then the emperor must be displeased,’’
said Lucien, in a sorrowful tone, ‘‘and all
my bright hopes——’’

‘‘Not a bit of it,’’ interrupted the cap-
tain. ‘‘Colonel Hapsburg explained the sit-
uation clearly, and the emperor quite ap-
proved the pursuit. He has sent twice to
inquire after you——’’

‘*Ah!’’ said Lucien, and his pale cheeks
flushed with pleasure. 7

‘‘Yes, you are as muchin his favor as
ever,’’? resumed the captain. ‘‘He is gone, I
don’t know where, and I am ordered for-
ward at once with my regiment. If you re-
main very quiet, and avoid excitement, and
talking, you will be able to follow in a few
days. I must leave you to the care of Spado
and the surgeon.’’

The roll of drums at a distance indicated
that bodies of troops were in motion, and
with a few words of farewell, Captain Jouil-
lard hastened away, leaving Lucien in a
state of depression. Nor did he rally from
it, in spite of the encouragement he had re-
edived. The escape of the fugitives and the

inflammation of his wound, added to all
this, brought on a sharp attack’ of fever,
and by night he was delirious.

For two weeks he hovered between life
and death, with but brief intervals of con-
sciousness, and then the care of Spado and
the surgeon brought him safely over the
crisis. He mended so rapidly that by the
end of the third week he was able to joina
small detachment of invalids who were
starting for the front to rejoin their com-
mands.

Day after day they marched down the
Danube, and to Spado’s satisfaction each
morning found Lucien better and stronger.
Cavalry officers of all sorts joined the de-
tachment en route, and on the 18th of
November they arrived at Lintz, the capital
of Upper Austria. Here they heard that
Vienna had been captured by Murat, and
that the Emperor of Austria had retired to
Brunn, there to await the arrival of his
allies. Other tidings indicated that the
different army corps were widely scattered,
and at the time no man could foretell what
was going to happen.

For more than a week Lucien and Spado
remained at Lintz, which was crowded with
infantry and cavalry. Then came positive
news that the allied armies were in camp
near Olmutz, and that Napoleon was _ push-
ing forward to Brunn. To the latter place
the various battalions were at once ordered,
and steady marching. brought them to their
destination on the 28th of November. Here
Lucien rejoined Captain Jouillard, and both
were appointed to the general staff of Napo-
leon. It was now certain that a great battle
was inevitable, and one that must conclude
the war. The allied armies and the army of
France were almost face to face.

* * * *

On the night of the Ist of December, the
soldiers of France were sleeping beside their
watch-fires, and scarcely a sound broke the
silence except the tramp and summons of
the sentries. All of that day Napoleon had
spent in the saddle, giving instructions to
officers and men, and planning, with almost
a spirit of prophecy, the issue of the coming
struggle. All was in readiness for the mor-
row. The emperor’s headquarters were near
the fortress of Brunnu. The right of the line
rested on a lake, and the left occupied a
wooded eminence. Soult’s division was in
the center, and the reserve consisted of sev-
eral battalions of the guard and numerous
artillery.

The enemy were equally ready and con-
fident, and off toward the village of Auster-
litz their thousands of watech-fires could be
seen glittering under the starry skies. There
slept the allied armies of Austria and Russia
—a host of 110,000 men. :

By an hour or two after midnight, most
of the officers in the French camp were
awake, among them, Lucien and Captain
Jouillard, who sat by a watch-fire near the
left of the line. Spado was sleeping on a
bunch of straw, and in all directions, beside
their picketed horses, lay the men of the
cavalry brigade to which the Eighth Hus-
sars was attached. As the night wore on the
rumble of cannon was heard from the direc-
tion of the Russian camp, and staff officers
began to pass to and fro on the gallop.

It was but three o’clock, and still quite
dark, when artillery began to boom far off
on the right. A little later the drums beat
to quarters along the French lines, and the
cavalry bugles pealed loudly. Then a divis-
ion of infantry moved forward, column
after column creeping over the earth like
huge shadows. A rumor quickly spread
throughout the camp that the Russian guard
were advancing fo the front.

Spado sprang to his feet, rubbed his eyes,
and brought up the officers’ horses.

‘‘Ts the fight beginning?’’ he asked;
eagerly.

‘Tt looks that way,’’ replied Lucien, as
he followed Captain Jouillard’s example
and climbed into the saddle. His face was
flushed with excitement, but he was per
fectly calm and composed. ‘‘We are ready
for orders now,’’ he added. \

‘*And they will come quickly enough,’’
said the captain. ‘‘This day is destined to
be a memorable one in the history of France,
my boy.’’

Dawn began to break in the horizon, and
now it was evident that the right of line
was engaged with the enemy. Down in the
plain the compact lines of troops closed up,
and from the smoky-red glare beyond came
the roll of artillery and the dinof small-
arms. Here and there moved squadrons of
cavalry and battalions of infantry. Batteries
of artillery dashed past, unlimbering their
guns as they went.

At last the sun—the ever-famous sun of
Austerlitz—rose in all its glory, and as the
mist rolled away from the marshes the dark
columns of the Russians could be seen pour-
ing forward. The news spread that Soult’s
division had been called up to support
Davoust, and a moment later the three im-
mense columns advanced on arun toward the
enemy. Now the word to mount passed
through the lines of the cavalry brigade,
and Murat and his staff came riding by
amid hoarse cheers.

But as yet only the right of the line was
engaged, and for more than an hour Lucien
and Captain Jouillard sat motionless in their

 

fear that he might miss taking part in some
important battle preyed on his mind. The

saddles, intently watching every feature of
the thrilling scene in front. of them. They

 

 

 

 

saw at a distance the charge of Soult’s

column, and the conflict between Berna-
dotte’s division and the Russian guard under
the Grand Duke Constantine. Then the
battle became general from right to left,
and the crash of hundreds of great. guns
seemed to shake the earth.

Amid this furious din a staff officer in a
general’s uniform rode up to Captain Jouil-
lard and checked his panting steed.

‘You will join your regiment at once,
sir,’? he exclaimed. ‘‘Report to Murat,
your brigade commander. And you, Lieu-
tenant Bellair,’? he added, ‘‘will report to
the emperor. You will find him over yon-
der, in the vicinity of the lake.’’

The officer galloped on, followed by Cap-
tain Jouillard. Lucien waved his hand in
farewell to Spado, and urged his horse furi-
ously through the moving lines. By making
inquiries here and there he soon found _ the
emperor on the slope of a hill about half a
mile from the Lake of Moeritz. -He was
giving orders to his staff—-which was now
small in numbers—and mounted officers
were riding off in haste in every direction.

Lucien checked his horse and saluted.

‘*T was ordered to report, sire,’’ he said.

‘*VYes, I wanted you,’’ replied Napoleon.
‘*Can you find Lannes’ division, sir?’’

‘‘It is. stationed on the left, sire, I be-
lieve.’’

‘*That is right, sir. The Russians intend

to try to outflank us there. Hasten to!

Lannes at once, and bid him, in my name,
force the enemy back at all hazards.’’

Lucien urged his horse back on its
haunches, and, with a parting salute, he
wheeled around and galloped off. With the
deafening cyash of the great battle ringing
in his ears he made his way unerringly to
the front of Lannes’ division, found the
marshal, and delivered the message.

‘*Tt shall be done,’*’ cried Lannes. ‘‘I am
starting now. Stop—you can’t go back, my
gallant young officer. It is too late. You
shall take part in the charge.”’

True enough, the order to advance had
already been given, and the living torrent
was moving forward. With a thrill of ex-
citement Lucien found himself attached to
the marshall’s staff, and galloping madly
down the hill-slope toward the masses of
red-brown Russian infantry.

(T0 BE CONTINUED.)
—__-_~>-+ + —__—_
[This Story Will Not be Published in Book-Form.]

FOR HIS HONOR’S SAKE;

OR,

The Richest Boy Detective in New York.

BY WALDEN F. SHARP.

(‘For His HoNnNor’s SAKE” was commenced in
No. 271. Back numbers can be obtained of all News
Agents.)

eae skal

CHAPTER XVIII.
ANDREW TO THE RESCUE.

NDREW DARWIN realized that the
old woman living in the house was
in great peril, and that something

; must be done at once.

At first he thought to run for assistance,
but the distance to the nearest house was at
least five hundred feet, and there was no
telling what might happen in the mean-
time.

Again came a muffled cry from the upper
apartment, telling that the lady was making
a struggle, perhaps for her very life.

Andrew hesitated no longer, but tried the
door. It was locked, and defied all of his
efforts to break it open.

But a window was close at hand, and he
raised this and hopped into the parlor of the
mansion.

He heard the tread of heavy feet directly
overhead, more cries, and the overturning
of a table.

Feeling to see that his pistol was ready
for use, our hero left the parlor and entered
the hall, where a broad staircase led to the
upper floor.

The flooring below was covered only with
matting, on account of the extra coolness,
and Andrew’s steps were heard in spite of
the tumult above.

‘*Who’s there?’’ cried a voice from the
upper hall, and then a man peered down
over the banister.

He was a rough-looking individual, with
a heavy, matted beard and a dark, savage
face.

‘‘Let that lady alone!’’ cried Andrew, at
the same time drawing his pistol.

‘*The duse take the luck!’ howled the
man, ‘‘We’ll have to get out!’’ he called to
his companion,

‘‘Who’s there?’’?’ came from within the
bed-chamber,.

‘CA fellow with a gun. Come on, there
may be half a dozen of them,.’’

hen, as Andrew mounted the stairs, the
man above disappeared, and our hero heard
him and his companion making their escape
to the rear of the mansion.

 

 

They passed through several long Japanese
curtains, and Andrew could not locate them

 

for the moment, for the rear of the house
was constructed in rather a mixed-up fash-
ion. As he hesitated, the old lady again
called out. :

Andrew instantly went to her. He found
Mrs. Petson on the floor,a heavy center
table directly across her body.

‘‘Help me! Don’t shoot me!’’ cried the
unfortunate, and shivered at the sight of
our hero’s weapon.

‘‘Lam here to offer you assistance,’’ he
said, reassuringly, and placing his pistol on
a chair, he raised the table and released her.

‘*The villains!’’ she moaned, as she stag-
gered to her feet.

‘*Who are they, thieves?’’

‘*Yes! yes! Oh, they ought to be cap-
tured !”? ’

‘‘T will see what can be done,’ replied
Andrew, and he hurried off to the rear of
the mansion.

But in the brief time taken to set up the
table, the two rogues had made good their
escape. Looking out of the back door,
Andrew just caught a glimpse of them as
they disappeared over the top of abhill a
long way behind the house. He fired after
them, but the shot flew wide of the mark.

Mrs. Petson had come down after him,
She was muth excited.

‘‘I must get Mr. Browne to go after
them !’’ she cried. ‘‘They must not escape.’

‘*Did they get away with anything?’

“‘T do not know yet. I hope not. You
surprised them.”’

‘*Who is Mr, Browne?’’

‘‘My neighbor. He lives yonder,’

‘*T will go for him. Those thieves will not
dare to return.’’

Andrew dashed off, taking a short cut
through the fields. He found the neighbor
working in an orange grove back of his
residence,

Matters were explained hurriedly, and
without delay Mr. Browne started off, ac-
companied by a negro servant, after the
thieves. Both were on horseback and armed.

‘*l’ve heard of them before,’’ said the
neighbor, as he rode off. ‘‘I’ll bring them
up with a round turn if I catch sight of
them.’’

When Andrew returned to Mrs. Petson’s
mansion he found the old lady standing
guard by the kitchen ‘door.

He told of what he had done, and she
looked much relieved.

‘‘Come in,’’ she said. ‘‘I must thank you
for your bravery in helping me. But for
you.there is no telling what those rascals
might have accomplished.’’

Andrew ;entered the mansion, and then
introduced himself.

‘*T was coming to see you,’’ he explained.
‘‘T am from New York, and Mrs, Clara
Petell is my friend.’’

‘‘Oh, yes, you mean the lady who was
Dora Strobell’s heir?’’

‘*Hixactly.’’

‘*T am glad to meet you, Mr. Darwin.
Come in and sit down,’’ and she led the way
back to the parlor and threw open the
blinds.

‘*Did the thieves get anything?’’

‘tT haven’t searched yet. 1 doubt if they
got much. You gave them rather a good
fright,’? and the old lady smiled gratefully.

Fearing some of the women folks front the
Browne house might come over and inter-
rupt them, Andrew lost no time in plunging
into the matter that was on his mind. He
asked about the Strobell estate and the land
Mrs. Petell had inherited.

‘‘The land was over on the next road; I
often heard Dora speak of it,’’ replied Mrs.
Petson.

‘*Can you locate it exactly?’’

The lady thought for a moment,

‘*T believe I can.’’

‘‘T am interested on Mrs. Petell’s account.
I believe some people are trying to swindle
her.’’

Again Mrs. Petson paused.

‘*T have a bundle of letters up stairs writ-
ten to me by Dora Strobell when she was in
New Orleans. She mentions the land in
them, I am sure, for she wrote it was only
a step from here, and that she might build
so as to be near me. I will get the letters.’’

»Leaving Andrew, Mrs. Petson disappeared
up the broad staircase. She was gone several
minutes, and then Andrew heard her give a
low cry.

‘<The thieves took the casket !’’

‘‘What casket?’’ he asked, following to
the upper floor.

‘‘An inlaid casket I had, containing sev-
eral bundles of letters and documents and
some jewelry.”’

‘¢ And those letters were in it?’’

‘*They were.’’

Andrew’s hopes fell. Here was another
set-back. 3

Then, like a flash, he thought. Were the
thieves connected with the land-boomers?

But he instantly dismissed this question.
It could not be, for they would have waited

‘until after Carson Biltry’s interview with

Mrs. Petson. age

By this time Mrs. Browne and several
others came in and the old lady was at once
surrounded by the crowd, who wanted to
know all the particulars of the thieves’
visit.

Andrew drew Mrs, Petson aside.

‘‘Please keep what I have said a secret,’’
he whispered.

‘¢ About the land?’?’

 

      
     
     
     
     
   
   
   
   
   
 
        
      
    
   
   
     
   
     
 
       
     

 

 

 

    
         
       
 
      
     
        
 
 

 

    
     
     
       
       
     
       
  

     

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oe Yes. 7
“4 will”?
‘¢ And another thing. Do you know Carson
Biltry?”’
‘‘Slightly.”’
‘tHe expects to call this afternoon. Please
be careful what you tell him. He is Mrs.
Petell’s enemy.”’
‘*T will be on my guard.’’
‘tT would like to go after those thieves,
too,’? went on Andrew; ‘‘but I have no
horse.’’
‘‘There are two in the stable. You are
welcome to use either. But you will have to
sadule him yourself, for my man is away.’’
‘*T won’t mind that,’’ replied our hero.
A few words more passed, and then An-
drew walked out to the stable. He found
two fine-looking beasts within, and selected
a coal-black steed.
It did not take the youth long to prepare
for aride. He brought the horse out, and
mounting on his back, set off at a gallop
down the path which led to the hill.
‘‘T would like to catch those men and see
those letters,’’ he mused to himself as he
sped along. ‘‘They may prove almost as
valuable as the deeds themselves. ”’
It did not take long to reach the brow of
the hill. Beyond lay a long, straight road,
lined on either side with palm and other
trees.. It was this road the thieves had un-
doubtedly taken, and on went Andrew,
keeping an eye open for both them, and Mr,
Browne, and his colored servant.

CHAPTER XIX.

AN EXCITING CAPTURE.

aT was a warm, clear day, and had there

I not been so much on his mind Andrew
j would have enjoyed the horseback ride

> thoroughly. Even as it was, it pleased
him, although his mind was so occupied by
keeping on guard he hardly dared to give
the exercise a thought.

As he journeyed along he passed several
fine groves of oranges, lemons, and other
fruits. He wished he could stop to inspect
them carefully, having never before seen
such fields, but that must come later, when
the case in hand was’ brought to a conclu-
sion.

On and on he went for nearly a mile be-
yond the brow of the hill.

Then, as he turned a bend to the left, he
beheld a man sneak from behind a clump of
bushes and cross the horse-path.

It was the very individual he had seen in
Mrs. Petson’s mansion—the man who had
peered over the banister when he was as-
cending the’Stairs!

Instantly Andrew urged his horse forward
until the spot was reached.

By this time the man was on the other
side of the road, but he was in sight.

‘““Stop!’? cried Andrew. ‘‘Stop!’’

The man looked back, and his face grew
dark and sour. He had not thought to see
our hero in that lonely spot. ;

But he did not stop. Evidently his idea
was to gain a dense hollow fifty yards
farther on,

“If you don’t stop I’ll shoot!’’ exclaimed
Andrew, and pulled out his revolver.

‘¢‘Wot do yer want?’’ growled the man,
and he came to a halt.

‘“You know well enough what I want,’’
returned our hero.

‘* An’t got no idee.’’

‘«Where is your companion?’’

‘CAn’t got no companion.’’

‘¢ And where’is the box you stole?’’

The man muttered something under his
breath.

‘* Answer me!’’

‘*T don’t know wot yer talkin’ about, boy.
You had better go on about yer biz.’’

‘“My business is right here. Hold on!’’ for
the man, had attempted to push into the
brush. ‘Let me tell you that [ am a pretty
air shot, especially at short range.’’

‘*Ver an’t got no right ter pull a gun on
Me.’?

‘‘We’ll talk about that later. Now answer
Me, where is your companion?”’

“*T tell yer I an’t got none.’’

As the man spoke he came closer to where

ndrew sat on the horse.

Suddenly he raised his foot and gave the
animal a heavy kick in the side.

The attack caused the horse to leap into
the air, and Andrew was nearly unseated.

Then off went the animal at top speed
With our hero clinging to the saddle with
®ne hand and the pistol with the other.
ac mocking laugh rang out, and the man

Sappeared into the brush.
to hoa!” cried Andrew, and ‘(id his_ best
{ bring the horse to a halt.
is was no easy task, for the animal had
igh temper. But finally it was accom-
Plished, and our hero turned him back.
act the same time a clatter was heard on
Colo Shell road, and Mr. Browne and his
red man appeared.

 

a allo! what’s up, my young friend?’’
hg out the planter.
: yy ne of the men is in the bushes yon-

x exclaimed Andrew.
4 he just slipped me.’
tay, OU don’t say! Show me; we will soon

Ye him.”’
hg drow led the way back.

‘*T tracked him,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Of course the

 

 

he asked, in a low tone.
drew’s brief reply.

me ”

GooDp

the negro, and pointed to several broken
and bruised bush branches.

‘‘Lead on, Jeff, you can follow it as good
as a dog, I know,’’ replied the planter.
At onee the colored man went off
trot through the brush, with Andrew
Mr. Browne on horseback behind him.

Evidently the robber had not expected to
be tracked so quickly, for soon they heard
him not a dozen yards ahead.

Crack!

It was the report of a pistol, and a bullet
whistled over their heads. :

‘Keep back!’’ yelled a voice. ‘‘I an‘t in
fer shootin’, but I’ll give it to the first
feller thet tries ter collar me!”’

The shot caused the colored man to re-
treat, but Browne and Andrew kept ‘on.
Both were armed, and now on the alert.

‘Stay where you are,’’ whispered the
planter, presently. ‘‘I will make a detour
and come up in front of him.’’

So Andrew pulled rein and halted behind
a clump of trees. The planter disappeared,
dismounted and tied his horse to a stump
and went ahead on foot.

Severdl minutes of almost
followed.

Then came a fierce exclamation, a pistol
shot, and the sounds of a man crashing
through the brush.

It was the fleeing criminal.

Searcely could Andrew dismount when
the rascal burst into view. He came from
the bushes directly in front of Andrew, and
on the instant the two were face to face.

The man held his pistol ready to shoot,
but before he could again discharge the
weapon, Andrew struck it from his hand.

‘“You rat!’’ howled the thief, who grap-
pled with Andrew catching him sideways,
so that the youth’s revolver could not be
brought into play.

He was a strong man, and in a trice he
hurled Andrew to the earth. He was about
to pass on, when our hero, by a dexterous
turn of his foot, tripped him up and sent
him sprawling on his face.

The two rolled over and over, the man
cursing at the sudden turn of affairs.

He attempted to scramble to his feet, but
Andrew was determined to capture him,
and held him down in spite of all he could
do.

‘«Let me go!’’

To this Andrew made‘no reply.

‘‘T’ll fix yer, young fellow!”’

The thief caught Andrew by the throat
and began to choke him. But our hero re-
taliated by doing the same thing.

‘Hi! hi!’? cried the colored man, rushing
up. ‘‘Massdé Browne, cum heah!’’

‘‘Have you got him?’’ came from the
brush. ,

‘“Ves, sah! come quick!’’

And then the colored man also fell on the
thief. The fellow raved and swore, but all
to no purpose. He was a prisoner, and so
remained. In a moment Mr. Browne ap-
peared on the scene.

‘*Porter, as I thought!’’ he said.
your struggling; it is useless.’’
‘‘The duse take the luck!’’ muttered the
thief, sullenly.

But he took the planter’s advice and be-
came quiet, while Andrew sprang to his feet
and disarmed him.

‘“‘T brought a pair of rawhide handcuffs
along,’’ said the planter. ‘Jeff, just put
them on Porter.’’

‘“You seem to know this fellow,’’ re-
marked Andrew, curiously.

‘‘Eyvery one around St. Augustine knows
him,’’ was the answer, with a short laugh.
‘‘He is a regular jailbird. He was only dis-
charged from the county jail a few weeks
ago.’’

“(He won’t tell me who his companion
was.’’

‘“‘That’s Porter to a dot. Whenever he is
on trial he is as mum as an oyster.”’
At this the prisoner winked, as though the
remark were a sort of compliment.

‘‘The other chap must have Mrs. Petson’s
box of valuables.’’

‘“‘Then they did get something?’’ put in
the planter, quickly.

‘Yes, sir; a box containing jewelry and
valuable letters and documents.’’

‘*We will search Porter.’

‘*No yer won’t!’’ howled the prisoner, in
sudden alarm.

He turned around and attempted to throw
asmall package taken from his coat pocket
into the bushes.

But Andrew was too quick for him.
caught the package and opened it.
‘*Here is some of the jewelry!’’ he cried.
“Two rings, two pins, and a gold watch-
chain. He must have divided up with the
other thief as soon as they left the house,”’
“Tf you'll guard him, I’) look around for
his pal,’’ said the planter.

This was,readily agreed to, and both Mr.
Browne and his man went off.

No sooner were they out of sight than
Porter turned to Andrew.

‘‘See here, young feller, who are you?”’

on a
and

utter silence

‘*Stop

He

‘*You may find out later on,’’ was An-
‘‘It won’t do you no good ter capture

‘¢Perhaps it will.’’
‘‘Yer won’t git no reward out of Mrs.

 

real was out of sight.
bh ere am de trail, Massa Browne,’’ said

    
 

    

Petson—she’s too mean.’’

| not disappointed.

claim, even down here,’’

help. But look at the money in it. We can’t

4407

 

‘Yes, but look here, let me go an’ it will
be worth a nice stake to yer.”’
Andrew looked the thief squarely in the
face.
‘“You’ve struck the wrong person if you
wish to bribe me,’’ he said, coldly.

CHAPTER XX.
THE WRECK ON THE COAST.
TAY, T this last remark, Porter, the thief,
a \ was evidently much disconcerted.

a He remained silent for several
—“ minutes, his face growing darker
than ever.

‘* All right, take yer choice,’’ he growled
at last. ‘‘But remember, if I’m sent up, I'll
take pains not to forgit yer when I come
out.’

‘““You can’t bribe me, neither can you
intimidate me,’’ was our hero’s reply.

After. that the conversation dragged until
balf an hour later, when Mr. Browne and
Jeff returned.

‘*We could see nothing of his companion,’’
said the planter. ‘‘He has evidently made
good use of his time and left the vicinity.”’

‘‘Tt’s a pity,’? answered Andrew. ‘‘He
must have the rest of the stuff. Let us
search Porter and see.’’

This was done on the spot. But nothing
more of value was found on the prisoner.
Andrew hoped for some evidence against
Biltry or Mr. Barnaby Walthrop, but it
was not forthcoming.

A little later Porter was marched off to
the St. Augustine jail by Mr. Browne and
his negro, while Andrew returned to the
Petson mansion.

Our hero had scarcely entered the grounds
when he heard some one bebind him. He
looked back and saw it was Carson Biltry.

He came to the conclusion that Biltry
wished to-see the old lady about the miss-
ing information, and hid behind a palm
while the land-boomer passed him.

But Biltry’s visit was a disappointment to
both himself and to Andrew.

The shock of the robbery had caused Mrs.
Petson to take to her bed, and she would not
see the man.

And even when Biltry left, Mrs. Petson
begged Andrew to cut his visit short, al-
though, to be sure, she was glad to learn
part of her property had been recovered.

Our hero left in the hope of catching sight
again of the land-boomer. In this he was
Biltry walked into town,
and an hour later saw him and two strangers
headed down the road leading to Point

Matanzas Inlet.

Andrew speculated for a while, and then,
in lieu of something more definite to do, re-
solved to follow the land-boomer down the
coast. It would be a nice ride on horseback,
and there was no telling what it would bring
forth.

It had been growing hotter, and now,
when they were several miles out of town,
the wind began to shift about to the east,
and a rain set in.

‘‘That’s queer,’’ thought Andrew.
never thought it would do that,
wouldn’t have come out.’’

But there was no help for it, and with his
coat buttoned tightly, his collar turned up,
and his hat pulled far down over his eyes,
he kept on.

A mile farther on and the broad road
swept out close to the water’s edge.

There was a hut some little distance ahead
and into this he saw Biltry and his com-
panions make their way, first tying their
horses in a shed in the rear.

Andrew knew the men had merely sought
shelter in the place, yet he could not resist
the temptation to ride up and see what took
place.

He made a semi-circle and came up in the
rear of the shed.

Here in a clump of trees he tied his horse,
and moved to the hut just as a fearful
crack of thunder was followed by a perfect
cloud-burst of rain.

The youth was glad enough to get under
the shed where the other horses were stalled.
Here he discovered a dry corner, and
crouched down, at the same time heartily
wishing himself safe back at the hotel in St.
Augustine.

Instead of abating the storm increased in
violence, until along the coast little short of
a hurricane was raging.

The vivid flashes of lightning made the
gloom that followed more intense than ever.
The rain, too, came down, not in drops, but
in large sheets.

Presently two of the men came out to see
if the horses were safe. They were both
strangers to Andrew.

‘‘Well, what do you think of Biltry’s
offer?’’ asked one, when they were satisfied
that the steeds were all right.

‘It’s good enough, I reckon,’’ was the
reply. ‘‘But I don’t know anything about
this man he is working for.”’

‘‘Oh, the New Yorker is all O. K.”’
‘*Maybe he is, and maybe he an’t.’’

_ **Biltry wouldn’t be in the deal if it
wasn’t O. K.”’

‘*Tt’s no slight job to push a fraudulent

   

 

 

coy
or I

‘Of course it an’t—that’s why he needs

 

‘‘That is none of your business.’’

 

make’ five hundred each easier.’’

‘*¥’m in for taking him up.”’

‘* All right, if you say so, I’m with you.”’

‘‘What do we eare after the money is in
our fists. We both intend to go to Cuba,
don’t we?”’

‘*That’s my plan.’’

‘‘And then we will be out of the United
States.”’

‘‘Oh, if we get out, we’ll be all right. I’m
looking at it in case we are collared.’’

‘Trust Biltry—and me.’’

At this juncture a crash of thunder inter-
rupted the conversation. The two men ran
for the hut, leaving Andrew once more
alone with the horses.

Our hero had been much interested in the
talk. It was plainly to be seen that the two
men were Carson Biltry’s tools, and Carson
Biltry was using every effort to push Bar-
naby Walthrop’s claim to the land which
rightfully belonged to Mrs. Clara Petell.

‘‘Tt’s a regular nest of rascals,’’? he mut-
tered to himself.. ‘‘And it is going to be no
fool of a job to bring them to justice.”’

The more Andrew speculated on the matter
the more he became convinced that the Pet-
son robbery had been instigated by Carson
Biltry, and that the visit to the old lady
had been something of a blind.

‘*T’]] question Porter in the jail,’’ he con-
cluded. ‘‘{ may catch him off his guard.”’

Then came another crash, but it was not
that of thunder. . It was the booming of a
cannon.

What could it mean?

The sound came from off the water, and
seemed to be directly east of the spot where
the hut was located.

It must be some ship in distress.

eAgain came the booming of a cannon, and
then.a rocket shot up through the blinding
rain, presenting a strange and fearful ap-
pearance through the semi-gloom.

‘‘Tt’s a ship, and she’s drifting on the
shore!’’ thought Andrew.

And forgetting all else in his excitement,
he left the shed on a run, and crossing the
road, plunged along to the water’s edge.

He was right.

Far out was a schooner, plunging and
pitching violently. The sails were all furled,
but the force of the hurricane was driving
her on, in spite of her anchors.

The scene was a thrilling one, but some-
thing even more impressive was to follow.
To the east the wind was increasing, if
such a thing could be, and it was banking
up before it a perfect mountain of water,
which came rolling along with resistless
fury.

As Andrew gazed spell-bound, this mighty
mass of water struck the schooner, partly
on her stern and partly on her side. The
water swept over the decks, hiding every-
thing but the tall masts from view.

Then came a crash and a splitting sound.
Unable to stand the tremendous strain the
vessel had parted!

But even then she did not go down in-
stantly. The tidal wave, if such it may be
called, carried her well into shore. But that
was the end. She rolled over, gave a little
heave, and went down.

As the craft disappeared, Andrew saw
several small boats let down. Into them
crowded the sailors and others. Two of the
boats capsized on the spot, their occupants
clinging to the upturned bottoms. The third
kept up and swept to land less than ten
seconds later.

The next wave brought in one of the up-
turned boats with three of the sailors and
an officer.

But the other upturned boat remained
out. Looking through the rain at the next
flash of lightning Andrew saw that but one
man clung to’it.

‘*Al] in??? he heard a loud voice shout
out.
‘©All but the man out on that boat,’’ was
the reply.

‘Who is that?”’

There was a brief silence, as the sailors
looked at each other.

‘<It’s Gus Pendrill, cap’n!’’

Andrew started. Could it be the man he
had met in New York? Most likely it was.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

——_——_ > +»

UNEXPECTED.
He had been trying to impress upon the
children in the school, in the capacity of a
temperance lecturer, that though it was
right and proper to relieve suffering and
poverty, it was much better to find out the
cause of it all—drink, of course—and re-
move that; and so with everything.
‘‘Now,’’ he said, ‘‘suppose your father
some morning came down stairs, and on go-
ing to the cellar, found it flooded; what
would he do first? Would he begin bailing
the water out?”’
‘tNo, of course not.”’ ;
‘‘Now, what would be the first thing he’d
do?”’ ;
After a short silence, a shrill, piping voice
cried out:
‘‘Why, he’d carry on awful!”’

—_——__>+->——-_—-

‘“Did yow buy that piano, or hire it??’
said Fosdick to Gaskett.
‘*We have it on trial.’’

 

‘¢That’s so.’?

‘Then I think you will have no difficulty
whatever in finding it guilty.”’

 

 

 

 

 

    
  
 
   

 

 

 
 

CST STONES HER
ISSUED WEEKLY.

NEW YORK, AUGUST 117, 1895.

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Contents of this Number.

atten

 

SERIAL STORIES.
“The Rival Canoe Boys,” by St. George

Rathborne.

“Boats, Bats and Bicycles,” by Ernest A.
Young.

“For His Honor’s Sake,” by Walden F.
Sharp.

“Toby and Tom,” by Will Lisenbee.
“Slack-Wire Zip,” by Victor St. Clair.
“Loyal to Napoleon,” by Alfred Armitage.

SHORT STORIES.
‘In the Lion’s Jaws.”
“Summer-Time in the Country,” by Max
Adeler.
“A Night of Horrors,” by Henry Clarke.
“A Startling Incident,” by R. E. Farr. -
“Mose Howard’s Fish-Trap,’ by J. R.
Hammond.

REGULAR DEPARTMENTS,

“Short Talks With the Boys,” by Arthur
Sewall.

‘“‘How to Do Things,” by David Parks.

“Our Stamp Album.”

“Mail Bag,” ‘Exchange
“Club Notices,” ete.

Department,”

 

ANNOUNCEMENT!

For the following three weeks, we shall
begin a new serial every week.

In the next numer,

BY PLUCK ALONE:

OR,

Ralph Nelson’s Upward Struggle,

BY HARVEY HICKS,

Author of “The Tour of the Zero Club,” “Tom
Truxton’s School-Days,’’ ‘Mat Merriman
Abroad,” etc., etc.

*

——

To follow:
A magnificent new historical story by

ALFRED ARMITAGE.

ee

. After that:
A story of adventure amid the savage
tribes of Africa, by an author new to’ these

columns.

—_—~e————

How do you like

OUR STAMP ALBUM?

Remember that in this department, we

SUMMER-TINE IN THE COUNTRY,

BY MAX ADELER.

pedals dictates

E have moved into the country to
stay for a few weeks with some of
our relations. They gave us such

.. very warm and repeated invita-
tions that we concluded to make some sacri-
fice to go, to oblige them, and I bad no idea
how much they appreciated our company
until the end of the first week, when they
handed me a bill for fifty dollars for board for
three of us.

Life in the country is very charming in
summer-time. We sleep in the spare room in
the garret, where the temperature gets up
to 104 degrees. The roof has not been re-
paired since Columbus landed, and conse-
quently it is full of apertures. For any one
who wants to study astronomy while lying
in bed, our garret offers phenomenal ad-
vantages; but whenever it rains at night
there is. nothing to be done but to make a
raft our of the clothes-horse and some bed-
slats, and float the family until daylight.
It is sometimes an exciting apartment. A
few nights ago, while hitting at a mosquito
with a shuck-pillow, I knocked a wasp’s
nest off of one of the rafters, and in the
morning we had knobs as_ big as hickory
nuts all over our faces and legs.

It is a good thing to live out here in the
country, because the early morning air is so
healthful. We get our morning air very
early. The family is routed out at four
o’clock, so that the men may go to the
harvest-field, and if we lie abed, there will
be nothing to eat until dinner-time. To be
sure, that would not make any very great
difference, if we could live without food, for
country diet is not as attractive as I hoped
it would be.

We always have salt ham and fried pota-

toes for breakfast; then we have boiled ham

and potatoes for dinner, and cold potatoes
and sliced ham for supper. On Sundays we
have two kinds of ham and stewed potatoes,
and potato pudding for dessert. When I asked
for milk for the children, they said. they
were using all the milk to fatten the calves.

They apologized for not having butter be-
cause the hucksters who supplied it hadn’t
come. I threw ouf a hint about raspberries,
but they said the man at the store was ex-

ecting them every day from the city, and
t would have to wait. They get their pota-
toes from the city, too, and the ham was
cured in Cincinnati.

The only vegetable that grows here is cab-
bage, but we are not allowed to eat it, be-
cause they trade it off at the store for pota-
toes, and they swap their chickens to the
huckster for butter—that is, their young
chickens. We had for dinner one day a hen
that cackled during the war of 1812. She
ate like a piece of India-rubber boot.

One of the finest things about living in
the country is that you can wander off to
some shady spot and lie in luxurious ease
upon the grass, dreaming away the hours.
And while you are dreaming away the
hours, straddle-bugs will probably crawl up
your pantaloons and bite you, and cater-
pillars will insert themselves between your
shirt-collar and neck. When you get home
you find that you have caught a frightful
cold from lying on the damp grass, and
while you are sneezing you learn that one of
the children bas fallen out of the haymow
and run a pitchfork through his calf, and
that the other one has been pitched over the
fence by the Durham bull.

Then we like to sit out in the cool of the
evening and enjoy the calm, quiet solitude
of the place. There is a canal at the end of
the lawn, and when we get enough of the
quiet solitude, the ‘‘Mary Jane, of Penca-
der,’’ will come along, and we will be enter
tained by the captain, who swears violently
at the boy because he does not stimulate the
mules to sufficient activity. As he wakes the
echoes with his abnormal profanity, we sud-
denly put the children to bed to protect
them from demoralization; and then, when
the hind. mule has kicked at the boy three
or four times, the boat passes up stream,
and silence once more returns.

We sit there until bed-time, beating off
the mosquitoes with one hand and scratch-
ing the bites with the other. And as soon as
we get into our garret with a candle the
atmosphere is filled with bugs, which dance
around the room and beat against the walls
until we go to sleep.

It is a good thing to live in the country,
because the children have such a chance to
obtain vigorous health. They begin the
summer in the country with prickly heat.
Before that is cured they get cholera morbus
from eating green apples.

Afterward they catch mumps from the
children on the next farm, and at inter-
mediate periods they get bitten by the dog,
they come near drowning in the creek, they
are sun-struck, they rub against poison vine
in the woods and swell up, they are tangled
in the mower and lose fingers in the feed-
cutter, they are run over by the ox-cart and
ground up in the threshing machine.

Then they cry all night in our garret, and
eat so much at meals that the owner of the

 

GOOD NEWS.

 

and they wear out clothes enough to run an
orphan asylum for a couple of years.

One of the best things about the country
is that it gives you a chance to go a-fishing.
We fish in the creek. After digging for a
couple of hours in search of worms, we go
to the water and throw in. I get a bite and
pull up, and the line winds tightly around
the limb of a tree. Then I shin up the tree
and undo it, and throw in again. After
several more ineffectual bites, I pull up an
eel, and find that he has swallowed the hook.
Everybody knows how it is with an eel.
You might as well try to, hold a streak . of
lightning. When he has covered your boots
with slime he bites the line off and wriggles
back into the water. When you have put on
a new hook you get a bite, and jerk out a
muddy snag, and then you catch one small
minnow and find that you. have been sitting
in a puddle of water waiting, for him to
nibble.

As your bait is exhausted, you conclude
to go home, where you can put some oint-
ment on your blistered hands and face, and
pick the ticks out of your skin and have
sewed up the rents made in your*trousers
by the blackberry bushes, and get ready for
the mosquitos in the evening.

There are some very peculiar charms
about rural life, and the farmer is the
noblest man on earth. But as for ‘me, I be-
lieve I prefer existence in an alley in the
city to even temporary residence among the
agricultural population.

SuortT FALKs —=—

Py AY)

With THE

etter > nvetnlis

faa
‘BOYS
EDITED BY ARTHUR SEWALL.

———_ + —_—

HINTS TO BOYS ABOUT TO ENTER A
BUSINESS LIFE.

of letters asking for general advice as

to what business to adopt that I have
“=> decided to answer such letters in a
bunch, and devote all my talk this week to
that subject.
It is a most delicate and- onerous duty to
assist a Jad in choosing a vocation; a some-
thing to which, as the word implies, he is
called—in other words, exactly suited by
taste, habits, and brain power.

As I have frequently said in this column,
everything depends upon the boy himself—a
good lawyer would probably not make a
good bricklayer, and vice versa—but a few
words may assist in answering the question,
‘*What am I to do when I leave school?’’

To a large number of boys this question is
a puzzling one. Boys with fathers in a well-
established business, or well connected pro-
fessionally, are very apt to follow in their
parents’ footsteps. But there are thousands
of strong, capable lads who have to make a
choice for themselves. What are they to do?
And what profession or business to pick?

Now, outside of the three great profes-
sions, a trade or craft, a making or selling,
must be a boy’s occupation. In these latter,
it is a safe principle to look well ahead,
mark the tendencies of the times, and try to
select a calling which will be a good one ten
and twenty and thirty years hence. Try to
forecast the world’s market. If you havea
taste, for instance, toward engineering, study
electricity. Many of the fortunes of the next
two decades will be made by adapting elec-
tricity to the needs of commerce. Those who
seo a few years before them will be qualified
to deal with this new power when it is gen-
erally called for, as called for it will be,
and when, in all probability, it will ba one
of the greatest forces that man has com-
pletely conquered.

To all boys we say ‘‘learn a trade, if pos-
sible, even if you have no present intention
of following it.’’ The sons of the Emperors
of Germany are obliged to learn a trade. A
man who can use his hands is a prince among
men. He can Seer ice a living, and he
can enjoy life as well. There is always room
somewhere for a trained pair of hands; and
he who can keep himself, and is master of
one trade, is always master of the world.

Take this as your guide in choosing a life
occupation. Is the business or profession
selected the one of all others which you like
best, and can do best, and keep on doing to
the end, with credit to yourself and benefit
to the world?

But whatever a lad’s business is, he will
have to learn the lesson that life is a series
of slow growth, and not a number of
jumps, and that success is like life. It
would be splendid, of course, to leap from
school into business, and from business-into
a carriage and pair, a fine house, and a
great position. But that notion’s all non-
sense; we have just got to wait, and work,
and smother up our growls. I know that
there are days when work and duty are
horrid bores. There.is no use in denying the
fact. There are dozens of days when we get
sick of grinding along, but we must still plod

} HAVE received such a large number

But don’t get discouraged at that. It is
astonishing if you look at it how little a
fellow does in one year. But though the
year apparently makes but small progress, it
is wonderful what ten years do. To you ten
years will seem an eternity. When a man
has gone through it it seems only likea
dream.

‘‘Wait’’ is the finest prescription in the
world. Don’t misunderstand me in this and
think that I mean to sit calmly down and
wait Micawber-like for something to turn
up. Far from it! I don’t quite agree with
people who say ‘‘Be content.’’ The ‘‘stay
where you are and be thankful, and don’t
kick up a row because you weren’t born a
millionaire,’’ is half a lie, and wholly un-
American. Of course a man doesn’t sit
down and whine because his hair isn’t the
color he would like. But though the inevit-
able must be bowed to, it doesn’t follow, and
never did follow, that because I was born in
a garret I should be condemned to live
there all my life. If you like garrets by all
means stop there; but for myself I prefer
the second floor to the garret. The first floor
is better than the second, and if you get the
whole house to live in, so much the better
still. This is a legitimate ambition. Money
and power, standing in the world, and the
respect won from the men who work about
you are good things, things to be coveted,
things that a wise man uses to wise and
good ends., But you can’t win them, except
by waiting, and waiting a long time, too.
The big names in history, with very, very
few exceptions, will prove this to you.
Cultivate grip. By that I mean the faculty
of sticking to things. You make up your
mind first of all, clearly and decidedly, to
do such and such a thing. Pros and cons are
weighed; advice is asked and considered;
then a decision is. arrived at. So far, well
and good; but a little while afterward
things go crookedly. Everything is far from
being as pleasant as you fancied it would
be, and a fit of the bluescomeon. Here’s
the time for grip, for the power of holding
on and sticking at things. It is wonderful
how matters smooth down in a few weeks,
how the worst troubles sneak away into a
corner, if you just get a good square look
into their faces.

But, on the other hand, I do not wish, re-
member, to prevent you making a vital
change when vital changes are necessary.
You may, some of you, select an avocation,
which, on mature consideration, does not
promise to suit you so well as some other.
Change, then, by all means; but do not
change in a hurry. . Six months are nothing
in a boy’s life. Go right into the very heart
of the trade you have selected, or your
father has selected for you, before you de-
cide you do not like it. Work through, in
fact, to the other side. Then, after months
of most patient and careful consideration, if
it does not really engage your faculties to
their best results, begin to think of a
change. This is the only way to make a
success in life.

In short: Never commence any enterprise
without looking all around it, and under it,
and over it. But when once it has been com-
menced, go through with it, even if all the
dragons of fable bar the way, and you have
to fight every step.

In conclusion, without any attempt. at
preaching, I want you to remember that,
while every fellow should strive to be well
off, the noblest record which a man cau
have is expressed in Sir Walter Scott’s little
speech to Lockhart: ‘‘Be a good man, my
dear.’’ Go through existence without ever
having the need to blush at anything you
say or do. Strive with all your might to
become good and honest citizens, men 0
fair fame, of unblemished character in the
on-coming years, when you, my lads, must
take the part of your fathers, and carry the
burdens which press upon senior shoulders
now,

‘‘Honor and shame from no condition ris@}
Act well your part, there all the honor lies.

improperly addressed to this department,
are answered in the ‘‘Mail Bag.’’

—— + =~ - 0 -e

HOW IT WORKED.

Brown (expert short-band reporter) —“‘!
say, James, the boy from the newspa
office has called for the report of that lect-
ure. Is it finished?’’ ;
James (a novice)—‘‘All but "a short we
tence in the middle of it, and I can’t f?
the life of me make out from my notes W54
it is.”’ ’

Brown—‘‘Oh, just put in ‘loud applaus®
and let it go.’’ t-

James acts on the suggestion, and the lee”
ure is sent for publication with the 4
tored part reading: o-

‘Friends, I will detain you but a few ™
ments longer.’’ (Loud applause).

 

jittl?

mince pie your mother made for you Y

day?’’

Bobby—‘‘No, sir; I gave it to my
teacher.’

Mr. B.—‘‘Did she eat it?’’ any

There wasn’t

 

 

house looks sour at them and growls out

 

answer all questions in regard to stamps.

something about raising the price of board;

on and do the best we can.
There is, I repeat, no bee-line to success.

Bobby—‘‘I guess so.
school to-day.”’

SprcraL Notice.—Many communications —

at i t
Mr. B.—‘‘Bobby, did you eat tha entht a

   

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aroun
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fellow
oe, Serr St>

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{This Story Wil) Not be Published in Book-Form. ]

BOATS.

BATS AND BICYCLES;|

OR,

NIMBLE JERRYS PLUCK AND LUCK.

THE HAPS AND MISHAPS OF A YOUNG ATHLETE.

BY ERNEST A. YOUNG,

Author of ‘* Blue and White Sam,’’ etc.

(“Boats, BATS AND BICYCLES”

was commenced in No. 273.

>

Back numbers can be obtained of all

News Agents. )

CHAPTER ,X.

PIKE AS A MESSENGER.

 
    
 

HORNTON’S boat was a stanch af-
> fair, and in a square collision with
I'\ the one propelled by Willis Terril, the
> latter would have suffered worst.

But it was not, properly speaking, a colli-
sion. It seemed, indeed, as if the demented
knight-errant of Nim-
ble Jerry had been de-
liberately ‘‘lying for’’
the other boat, with the
purpose of smashing it.

Thornton’s craft was
new and sound, yet the
nose of Terril’s boat
crushed a hole through
the side, and at the
same time the shock of
the blow left Thornton
and his companion kick-
ing and splashing in the
water.

Iam sorry to say that
under’ stress of condi-
tions like these, Mr.
Mortimer Thornton was
capable of using lan-
guage which was out
of keeping with his im-
maculate attire.

In ‘the present case he
blew water and exple-
tives out of his mouth
with spluttering vehe-
mence. R

As for Phineas Pike,
he seemed to be as much
at home in the water
as the fish for which he
was named. Neither did
he show the slightest
trace of anger. He
coolly set about right-
ing the boat, and while
his companion was still
splashing about he
sprang into the craft
and began to bail it
out.

‘¢ Just keep your head
out of the drink as long
as you can,’’ said Pike,
‘“and I?ll make room
for you here in a min-
ute.’’

As for Willis Terril,
he had simply veered
the course of his boat
to one side, and was
now leaning coolly upon
his oars, while a faint
smile of amusement re
laxed his finely cut feat
ures.

Mortimer -Thornton
soon clambered into his
boat again, which was
leaking at a rate that
promised to keep one
of them busy bailing
out. Not until then did
the New York youth ob- ~ |
tain a glimpse of the ys f
author of their mishap.

‘*See here, young fel-
low!’ he shouted.

Willis Terril touched
his hat with great cere-
mony, bowed gravely and. waited for the
other to go on.

‘¢Will you tell me what you meant by that
trick???’

“‘T beg pardon,’’ said Terril, without the
slightest trace of emotion. ‘‘But I will have
to refer your inquiry to his majesty, since I
merely act in the capacity of an humble and
faithful servitor.’’

Thornton glared for a moment at the ec-
centric youth, and then turned to his com-
panion, who was grinning broadly.

‘‘What does the fellow mean by that rot?
Who is ‘his majesty?’ ”’

‘‘T don’t know any more abcut it than
you do. But Ishould say that there was
something the matter with his upper story.

guess he’s the chap that I heered Jim
Granger telling about ’tother night up to
the store at the lake.”’

‘‘Insane, is he? And pretty dangerous,
too, if I may be allowed to judge.
ular country style to let a madman range
around at liberty until he kills somebody.
I’ll complain of the fellow within twenty-
four hours and have him shut up!’?

‘‘P’rhaps you’d better take hold of the
fellow and confine him yourself,’’ suggested

 

 

 

It’s reg- |

 

Phineas. ‘‘I’ll agree to row you both over
to the wharf if you’ll do the taking hold.’’
At this moment Terril touched his hat
again, and made a sweeping gesture as a_|
sign that he had something to say.
‘*Honorable gentlemen,’’ he said, ‘‘I have
to inform you that there is a quarter-mile
limit beginning at this point which we can-
not allow strangers to cross unchallenged.’
‘‘Let’s get out of the way, and the quicker

 

 

‘ e: i) Av * NM

the better,’? said Thornton, with a nervous | the spot.

shrug.

}

WY\) WRAY
: WY YY OX
WN \

 

 

 

called Nimble Jerry had some kind of a| something that will tell me what I wish to

hiding-place along here by the shore.’’
‘*So you said afore,

do that
quarter-mile limit

“Can’t we get to it by the way of the}

shore?’’
‘*Guess not.”’
‘*Then I don’t see as we can do anything.

I wish I had taken two or three of our fel

lows along while I was about it.

alone. Confound the luck! J’ll do it
There’s no telling when I’ll have another
chance. Jerry himself will be back in the
morning, and I don’t want him to know
that Ihave been prowling around his den.
We’ll go ashore, and I'll wait while you go
back to the camp, and hand a note that |

will write to the first one of our fellows that |

you see.’

But a moment was required for them to

get ashore.
They paid no further attention to the d
mented youth, who still remained in his boat

without seeming to watch them, yet evi- |
dently waiting for them to get away from |

| kifow.
but my idea is that | w
you can’t get to it without a boat, and to}
you’ll have to cross this chap’s| }

took no note of the lapse of time.

{sudden he noticed that
| bright 6@verhead, and that the fresh breeze

Then that |
| fellow would have been likely to have let us
now. |

that time.

; camp;

But this demented fellow, or idiot—
hatever he may be called—seems to be al-
ways on the watch.’’

So deeply engaged was Mr. Mortimer
Thornton with his own thoughts that he
But of a
the sky grew less

which swept in from the lake felt slightly

cool through his damp clothing.

He looked at his watch, then dashed it
back into his pocket with an impatient ex-

clamation.

‘<Stopped, of course—probably ruined
with the drenching it got. But what keeps
Pike? 1t must be an hour since he left, and
he ought to have gotten back in less than
IL see clearly I can’t trust that
f too much of a country lunk
head to know when he is well used !”’

Thornton began pacing to and fro impa-

ellow—he’s

tiently.

He was strongly tempted to return to the
but there were special reasons which

decided him to wait a little while longer.
It was possible that after delivering the
note there might have been some delay due
to those whom he had

 

 

a Hii

2 yA iW {
ieee

       

aay i

NIMBLE JERRY CAUGHT THE NEW YORK YOUTH BY THE SHOULDERS, AND HELD HIM WITH A DISPLAY OF STRENGTH AND
FIERCENESS WHICH FAIRLY TEBRIFIED THE GUILTY SOUL OF THE LEADER OF THE HERKIMERS.

note, and gave it to the Down-East youth,

‘*Then you think you won’t take holt of | who promptly went to deliver it.

him??? said Pike, with a grin.
‘*Did you hear me call for any of your re
marks?’

Thornton seated himself under the trees.
The day was warm, therefore his wet
clothing was less uncomfortable than it

‘“T s*posed by the way you talked that | might otherwise have been.

you’d want to get the fellow under control |
’*fore he did any more mischief. But just as |
you say, not as I care. Shall we heave}
across the quarter-mile limit that that fel- |
low tells about?’’

‘‘No—no!. Not now. There’s no telling |
what he may take it into his head to do.
But if we cbuld only manage in some way to |
smash his boat for him, and give him a good |
ducking, I should feel better about it.’’

‘Tf you feel like trying it, I’ll agree to
look on. But for my part, I feel that about |
the best way to do is to let the critter |
alone. They say he is a harmless sort of |
a chap, unless somebody tries to impose |
on him, or on the young fellow he calls his |
majesty.’

‘*Perhaps we can get where I want to go |
by going along the shore. You’ll know |
about that better than I. Somebody was
telling me a little while ago that the fellow !

| out all I can about that fellow,’’

As the afternoon was well advanced, and
as he had not yet accomplished what had
taken him from the camp, he decided to
keep out of sight as much as possible until
after sunset.

Having left such explicit orders for the |
| detention of Nimble Jerry, he felt at ease on

that score.

‘¢*T’]] never have a better chance to find
he mused,
as he lounged back upon the ground and

lazily watched the fluttering leaves and blue |

sky overhead.
‘There can be no doubt,’’ he continued,
speaking half aloud, ‘‘that this

message. But it is a question whether or not
he has any suspicions against me. Whatis he
here for anyway, to spoil my summer sport?
If I can only discover his den, or whatever
the place may be called, I’ll_ be sure to find

Nimble |
Jerry is the one my*father spoke of in his |

asked to come to his
assistance.

In the meantime,
Phineas Pike had made
his way lazily back to
the camp of the Her-
kimers, and upon arriv-
ing there asked the first
one that he met if Nim-
ble Jerry had returned.
Upon being answered in
the negative, he coolly
flung himself down un-
der a tree and declared
that he would wait.

‘‘Did Mr. Thornton
send you back?’’ he was
asked.

‘*Yas,’’ he drawled.

‘‘What for? Did he
send any message?’’

eee

‘“Why don’t you de-
liver it, then?’’

‘*Going to.’

The ‘Herkimer
guard’? who took it
upon himself to quiz the
youth, seized the lat-
ter impatiently by the
shoulder, exclaiming:

‘‘Then hand it here,
and be lively abouti t !’’

Pike twisted himself
free with a show of
muscle which went well
with his ample dimen-
sions.

‘‘1’ll give the mes-
sage to Nimble Jerry
when he gits back, and
you want to keep your
hand off’n me, or [ll
heave you clean from
here into the lake!’’

Phineas flourished his
arms, while his face
assumed an expression
of well-simulated fe-
rocity.

Of course a laugh
greeted this demonstra-
tion, for the members
of the Herkimer Ath-
letic Club, with the ex-
ception of their leader,
were on the wholé very
good fellows. They
could appreciate a joke
even if it were directed
to themselves.

Having no suspicions,
they allowed the eccen-
tric fellow to lounge
about the camp, and at
length, when be strolled
off into the woods they
took no particular note
of his course.

When Nimble Jerry

 

Thornton hurriedly wrote a brief | arrived at the camp they, at first, thought

nothing of Phineas Pike and his message.
They were not reminded of it until Pike
presented himself abruptly at the door of
Thornton’s tent.

Of course he was admitted without ques
tion, since they had no reason to doubt that
their leader had sent by him a message
to Jerry.

‘*Well,’’? said Phineas, looking sharply
down at the dusty, shabbily clad young ath-
lete, ‘‘so the hounds didn’t catch ye?’?’

‘*Not this time,’’ said Jerry.

Phineas had slowly taken from his pocket
the brief message which Mortimer Thornton
had written. It was simply folded and thrust
into an envelope without direction.

Jerry scanned it and sprang to his feet.

‘‘Did Mortimer Thornton, write this?’’ he
cried.

‘“Yas. He told me to give it to one of his
fellows. Didn’t tell which one, “Thought
you’d do just as well. From what he said,
T guess you ought to know what is in it,
whether or no he meant for you to, or not!?’

Nimble Jerry stared at the eccentric fel-
low as if he could not believe the evidence
of his senses.

 
  

     
     
    
   
     
  
  
    
  
   
  
  
   
  
   
   
  
   
     
    
   
  
  
   
  
    
     
   
    
   
    
  
  
    
   
    
  
  
 
     
 
   
   
     
    
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
   
    
  
   
   
 
 
    
  
  
   
    
 
  
  
  
  
  
 
  
 
  
  
  
 
  
   
 
   
  
  
  
   
 
 
 
  
  
   

 

 

 

 

 

 

4410

GOOD

 

‘“<So Thornton sent you for some of his fel-
lows to keep Willis Terril out of the way
while he prowled around trying to find my
den? Is that it?’’

‘TY guess that’s what he wanted to do.’’

‘* And you were white enough to see that I
was warned of the trick! And you didn’t
know much about me, either.’’ a

‘‘T see you up to the store to the lake
t’other night, and I’ve heard ’em tellin’
that you could ride one of them ’ere veloci-
pedes as if the old cat was after ye!’’

Jerry was too much excited to laugh.

‘*We’ll go back as quick as we can get
there. They tried to keep me here till
Thofnton got back, but now we’ve got a
pretty good excuse for going. If they think
that message said so, they won’t be apt to
raise any objections; and if they do, you
and I’ll pitch in and give them fits with a
big F.’’

‘¢Just as you say,’’ Phineas drawled, and
without further discussion they went out of
the tent.

CHAPTER XI.
THE BAY OF A HOUND.

SHE Herkimer guard who had first de-
tained Nimble Jerry in the tent saun-
tered idly toward them as they came

\-7" out.

‘*Forgotten your agreement?’’ he asked.

“That’s outlawed. I’ve got word from
Thornton, you know.’’

‘*Did he tell you to go back with Pike?’’

‘*Would I be going if he hadn’t?”’

‘*T think you had better let me see that
message,’’ said the guard, eying Jerry with
his shrewd squint.

‘And I think not, young fellow! When I
get a letter or message from anybody, it
will take a bigger-sized chap than you are
to make me pass it around to anybody who
happens to want to read it.’’

Without saying more, Jerry and his com-
panion broke into a run, making straight
for the woods.

The Herkimer guard uttered a shout, and
at the same time started in pursuit.

But Jerry and Phineas had a good start,
and this time there were none of the Herki
mers abead of them to cut off their retreat.

They reached the woods, and under the
leadership of Jerry, struck into a narrow
footpath which was almost hidden by the
thick growing shrubbery.

They kept on without slackening their
pace until they could no longer hear the
heavy tread of the boys who were trying to
follow.

‘*T guess we’d better hold up about here,’’
said Pike, in a low voice. ‘‘For I left that
young swell-head a little ways from here.’’

‘So much the better if we only meet
him,’’ was Jerry’s grim response.

Hardly were the words out of his mouth
when they saw Mortimer Thornton himself
limping toward them along the path.

e caught sight of Jerry first, then of the
tall form of Pike looming up behind him.

‘*Well, I fetched him along, just as you
said,’’ said Pike, innocently, as he thrust
his own lank form ahead of his companion’s.

‘*What—what do you mean? You—you
stupid villain !’’

‘*Yas,’’ drawled Pike.

Jerry was now face to face with this
youth whom he now knew ,to be the most
bitter enemy he had in the world.

He caught the New York youth by the
shoulders, and held him with a display of
strength and fierceness which fairly terrified
the guilty soul of the leader of thé Herki-
mers.

‘So I caught you at your trick, did I?
You would have had me held back in your
camp while you came out here to spy ’round
to see what you could find out about me!
A very good trick if it had only worked—
but do you know I’ve a good mind to give
you the worst trashing you ever dreamed
of getting?’’

Mr. Mortimer Thornton’s face.was very
white, as they could see plainly even in
the dusk which prevailed. His lips quivered,
and he trembled from head to foot.

He realized that he had been fairly caught
in a most contemptible piece of business.

His lips moved to make a response of
some kind, but no sound passed them.

Jerry held on and glared into his face for
a full minute, then pushed him unceremoni-
ously into a clump of bushes, releasing him
as he fell.

‘‘Let him squirm, and come on!’’ cried
Jerry, and at the same time he hurried on
ae his companion toward the shore of the
ake.

When they reached the spot where he
usually left his boat hidden he was at first
a little surprised that it was not there.

But a moment-after they heard the splash
of oars, and saw Willis Terril rowing the
craft toward them with his strong, steady
strokes. The strange youth sprang ashore,
gravely bowed to Jerry, and spoke the
single word ‘‘Sire,’’ and then touched his
— more stiffly to Phineas Pike.

erry greeted his comrade in his usual
manner, as Terril was very exacting in such
matters, and took great offense if there was
any neglect of ceremony in the interchange
of courtesies between Nimble Jerry and

 

you served me a pretty good turn just now.
You couldn’t have done better by me if you
had known me all my life. Now I’m going
to do what I wouldn’t do by anybody else—
I’m going to take you to my den. I know
that you’re true blue, and as for anybody
getting anything out of you that you don’t
want to tell, I guess they’ll find it pretty
rocky business. ’’

Phineas smiled his appreciation of the
compliment.

‘*There’s such a thing asa fellow being
awful thick-headed if he don’t happen to
want to tell anything. When anybody asks
me a question that | don’t want to answer,
I most generally understand in my elbows.”’

‘*Now, Willis, we’ll go to our castle. Mr.
Pike here is a new friend of mine, and you
may place full confidence in him, for he’s
white all through.’”’

‘* All except my liver,’’ said Pike.

Willis took off his cap, and deferentially
waited for Jerry and Phineas to get into
the boat. Jerry took his place in the stern
to steer, and the young giant seized the
oars and bent to them with a display of
strength which sent the light craft with
lightning swiftness, toward their secret
landing. In a moment they reached the
spot, and leaped ashore, leaving Terril to
conceal the boat.

As Phineas Pike had intimated in answer
to Thornton’s inquiries, he considered him-
self tolerably familiar with the shore of the
lake and the many picturesque nooks and
dells which abounded at many points.

Yet his big eyes were opened to their
widest as Jerry led the way through the
thicket, up the steep, slanting rock to the
precipitous brink upon the other side, and
thence into the branches of the huge rock
maple, whose dense foliage almost hid the
spot.

‘‘Can you shin down a rope, Phineas?’’
Jerry asked, as he unwound his queer ladder
from the stout bough to which it was at-
tached.

‘*Tf I can’t shin, I can tumble,’’ was the
reply.

‘*T guess I’d better lead the way, then you
can follow. I always let Willis come in last,
for if there happens to be anybody spying
around, he is as sly as a turkey hiding her
nest.’’

Jerry quickly descended his rope, and
waited at the bottom for Phineas. The long
legs of the latter came sprawling after.

"he sun had set, and even on the open
surface of the lake it was growing rapidly
dark, But at the bottom of the rope, and
the entrance of the little cave under the
rock, it was very dark indeed.

‘You wait here and I’ll go ahead and get
a glim,’’ said Jerry. ‘‘For unless your head
is a good deal harder than mine you won’t
relish bunting against the sharp edge of a
rock. I found them all with my head the
first’ time I crawled in here, and I wear the
scars yet.’’

With which the young athlete silently
crawled away on all fours while Pike stared
with his big eyes in a vain endeavor to
pierce the intense darkness. To him the
whole adventure was better than a picnic.
From the first moment that be had heard of
Nimble Jerry’s accomplishments in running,
jumping, and wheeling, the young country-
man had been filled with a desire to make
this boy’s acquaintance. Now that he saw
more of. the youth’s ingenuity his admira-
tion knew no bounds. He soon saw the
glimmer of the light straight ahead, and
heard the voice of Nimble Jerry saying:

‘*Now crawl flat on your stomach and
steer straight for this light, and your skull
will be safe. ’’

Phineas complied with these directions,
but he did not prostrate himself quite
quickly enough to escape one sound thump.

At last he was near enough to the light to
see Jerry’s. face behind it, and at the same
time to observe that there was a larger
chamber beyond.

‘*Come along easy,’’ said Jerry. ‘‘Then
you can straighten up a bit. But I wouldn’t
try standing up the first time unless you do
it pretty easy, for I don’t want you to boost
the roof from over us, as Willis come pretty
near doing the first time he tried it, He
measures about six feet three, and as my
roof here is only a little more than five and
a half, a fellow of his height don’t want to
jump up too sudden, or he’ll hear something
drop.’’

They were soon all seated in a more
spacious portion, which was dimly lighted
by Jerry’s lamp.

Phineas stared around admiringly at the
camp-stools, the deer-skin rugs, the neatly
kept rifles and shotguns, with their barrels
wrapped in baize.

Lastly his eyes fell upon the row of canned
provisions, of which there seemed to be an
ample store. And then his hand involun
tarily sought externally the region where
such good things are intended to go. But he
made no audible expression.

‘‘Now,’’ said. Jerry, ‘‘I’m going to tell
you a little story. The worst of it is, every
blessed word of it is true.’’

‘* Hope it comes out ggod, same as they do
in the books. Nothing I hate like wading
through a great long yarn, and then have
the fellow and girl in it up and die at the

   

NEWS.

 

this chapter of it. That part of it may
come after he has made his fortune. But
what there is of it I can make pretty short,
and perhaps you’ll be willing to help me
make it come out right.’’

to Nimble Jerry.

At this moment he suddenly lifted his
head in a listening attitude. Then, without
a word, he abruptly turned and crawled
hurriedly out through the passage.

As he did so the loud bay of a hound
came in muffled accents to the ears of our
friends.

 

CHAPTER XII.
RUN DOWN ON THE LAKE.

GOOD hound is a very gentle ani-
mal, indeed, except toward the prey

 

more dismal sound than the pro-
longed baying of these animals when they
are following a scent at night, I have never
heard it.

Perhaps the hoot of an owl may come
somewhere near it in dismalness; but that
depends upon the taste of the listener. In
this I refer, of course, only to the noises
which may be heard in_ semi-civilized
regions.

The howling monkeys of Brazil who send
out their hideous wails at midnight might,
I suppose, give odds in a competition of this
kind and still win by a large majority.

The hound whose voice rang so startlingly
along the shore of the lake had a voice like
a deep-toned bell, and its quavering accents
filled the heart of Nimble Jerry with a
sense of nameless dread.

He sprang to his feet, and Phineas fol-
lowed suit. A howl of pain broke from the
lips of the latter, and he sat hastily down,
again rubbing his crown with a vehemence
that showed the exact location of the
wound,

‘*Did it break through?’’ Jerry asked.

For once Phineas had no retort ready.
Naturally, good-humored persons will get
more angry when ‘they are their own vic-
tims than they will toward any one else. It
was so with Phineas.

‘*1’m sorry, Phin, really—you must have
hit it an awfulrap! Willis has a bottle of
arnica around here somewhere that he uses
when he forgets.’’

“If 1 every forgit again, I want you to
use that shotgun on me. You never ought
to let a fool live until he gits old enough to
vote!’?’

Jerry’s attention was taken by the re-
peated baying of the hound, which seemed
to have drawn much nearer, than when the
sound first came to his ears.

‘‘T guess I’d better go out and see what’s
the matter. I noticed that the Herkimers
had two or three hounds up to their camp,
and it would be just like Thornton to put
one of them onto our trail just for the
mean trick of finding this place.’’

‘*‘What makes you so mighty ’fraid of
their finding you here?’’ Phineas asked.

‘*If I’d only had a chance to tell you my
story you would have understood more
about it.’’

Jerry listened again, and then bidding the
other to remain where he was, the young
athlete silently crawled out of the den.

But he encountered Terril, who was
crawling back in.

Both paused with their faces close together
in the low passage, although neither could
see the other.

‘*Well, Willis, what did you find?’’

‘‘T saw nothing, sire—I did vot go far
enough for that. But I think I know what
is the trouble.’’

‘*Was that hound on our trail?’’

‘“‘There can be no doubt of it. But you
know the scent can never be followed so far
as this. The ground is overflowing from the
lake a foot deep on every side of the ledge,
and no hound can follow the scent in the
water. That is what makes him bay so
loudly—the beast is baffled.’’

‘‘Still he’s near enough, and if those fel-
lows are half as sharp as 1am, and _ they
really want to find me bad, they’ll feel sure
that they’ve got a pretty good clew. When
daylight comes what’s the matter with their
taking a boat and keeping a watch on us, so
we can’t go either out or in without being
seen???

Terril respectfully touched his cap in the
dark.

‘*May I be allowed to suggest, sire?’?
‘Yes, yes, if you have an idea, let it
out.’’

‘*T shall remain on duty, sire, and re-
double my vigilance. You hage’ not for-
gotten the quarter-mile limit, and my
pledge to protect it from trespassers?’’
Jerry indulged ina shrug of impatience,
which, fortunately, for the feelings of his
friend, it was too dark to observe.

‘‘T’m afraid, Willis; that we can’t enforce
any imaginary water-line limit like that be-
tween Uncle Sam and John Bull in Behring
Sea,’’ said Jerry.

‘*T can but do my duty, sire.’’

‘‘You’ll do that, Willis, every time, I’m
dead sure of that. And if any of the Her-

 

end!’’

 

himself.
‘*T don’t know why you did it, Pike, but

‘‘This one hasn’t come out yet, and the
fellow isn’t very much stuck on a girl in

kimers tried to cross your quarter-mile
limit I’ve no doubt but you would give

Willis Terril had seated himself close to |
the portal of the little den, where he usually |
stationed himself in his office of body-guard |

- it may be pursuing. But if there isa |

them the surest kind of a ducking, the

same as you did Thornton and Phineas this
afternoon. But you know there are other
people around here that might think you
hadn’t any right to do it, and if they should
happen to send a constable down from
Standish, then I’d be in the soup, sure!?’

To this Terril made no reply. They could
still hear the impatient baying of the hound.
But the sound seemed to be receding.

“‘P’ll tell you what you’d better do,
Willis.’?

‘‘T am - listening, sire, and let me suggest
again that it might be well for me to take
the shotgun along—for the hound, you
know !’?

‘*No, no!’’ cried Jerry. ‘‘You’ve no more
right to shoot the beast than you have to
fire at the boys’ unless you did it in self-
defense.’

The demented youth merely bowed, and
was silent.

‘*You just go out in the usual way, paddle
out on the lake a little ways, and pretend to
be fishing. Then you can watch the shore,
and see if they try to find the way to our
den in a boat. If they don’t try that way,
they can’t find it at all.’’

Again touching his cap in the dark, Willis
Terril silently backed out through the pass-
age, and was gone.

Jerry returned to Phineas, and flinging
himself at full length upon one of the deer-
skins, told him his story. Of that story we
cannot stop to give the details here.

Let it suffice that Phineas Pike was a
breathless listener. to every word of it, and
he forgot even to blink his eyes or close his
mouth during all the time consumed in its
recital.

When it was finished, Jerry set about
opening up some of his provisions, a process
which interested Phineas as much as the
story. And he did such justice to the meal
that Jerry felt a slight pang of concern lest,
if they were subjected to a siege, they
might suffer from famine.

For two hours they lounged about, and
Phineas proved that he had a good fund of
stories which suffered none through his style
of telling them.

At length they composed themselves for
the night.

Jerry was not concerned by the non-
appearance of his comrade, since the latter
was in the habit of befng out at all hours,
frequently rowing about till long after mid-
night upon the lake. The vagaries of his
mind seemed to be strangely quieted by thus
using bis strength at the oars, while he would
frequently pause to gaze at the star-gemmed
dome overhead, or down at the shimmering
reflection underneath.

As the light of dawn did not penetrate to
Jerry’s den, and both were very weary,
there was no telling how late they might
have slept had the eccentric knight-errant
not awakened them.

Terril reported’ that there seemed to be no
further attempt to find Nimble Jerry’s den.
No member of Thornton’s party had ap-
proached the spot during the night. Jerry
began to hope that, after all, his apprehen-
sions concerning the enmity of Mortimer
Thornton might prove to be in a large meas-
ure imaginary.

‘*T was so dog-tired last night, that I was
afraid of my own shadow. Now that the
sun is shining again, everything doesn’t
seem so tough.’’

It was in this more cheerful frame of
mind that Nimble Jerry ate breakfast, and
once more made an attempt to fill up the
‘taching void’’ from which Phineas Pike
seemed to bea chronic sufferer. The fore-
noon was well advanced wheh they issued
from the den, and were rowed out to their
regular landing place.

‘*T think we’ll go over this morning and
see Anthony Graham, the leader of the
Quaker Outing Club, which has its camp a
mile or two up the road. I saw the fellow
for about a minute yesterday, and he’s no
more like Mr. Mortimer Thornton than you
are. I feel sure there’s the right sort of
stuff in him, and something tells me that we
haven’t been brought together for nothing.’’

‘‘T guess I’ll have to leave you for a
spell,’? said Pike. ‘‘My brother Sam_ will
rave and jaw like time if I don’t get around
so as to help him with the hoeing. But I
couldn’t go last night, anyhow, for I was
took prisoner by the Herkimers, and ’twas
too late to go home after I gota way from
them. But I?ll come around again and see
what is going on the first chance I git. It
looks to me as if there might be a pretty
high old time betwixt those New York and
Philadelphia fellows.”’

So the strangely assorted pair separated.
They were to meet again before long, how-
ever, and the conditiors were to be of the
most startling character.

As the camping ground of the Quakers
was within easy walking distance of the
lake, Jerry decided to have his comrade row
him thither, as being the quickest and cool-
est way of getting there.

swiftly out from the shore. Physically he
seemed to be in prime condition this morn-
ing; but he was unusually silent and morose,
asif his mental malady had suffered through
the excitement of the day just past. Indeed,
he worked at the oars with a sort of fierce-

 

ness that caused them to bend at every

stroke.
{

Terril’s strong strokes sent the little boat -

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They were nearly a mile from the shore
when an exclamation suddenly broke from
the lips of Jerry.

‘Look out !—look out!’’ he cried.

A large sail-boat was bearing down upon
them at full speed.

It seemed to be bent upon running them
down!

(TO BE CONTINUED.)
——~ 0m
[This Story Will Not Be Published in Book-Form.}

TOBY AND TOM.
A STORY OF TH CUBAN REBELLION,

BY WILL LISENBEE.

+

 

 

 

(“ToByY AND Tom” was commenced in No. 269. Back
numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.)

 

-——+

CHAPTER XXII.
SENTENCED TO DEATH.

    
 
 

“OM BUFORD leaned against the win-

4 2» dow, his hand resting on Toby’s

v h shoulder, sick and dizzy with horror
> at the sight that met his gaze.

Fires had been kindled in the great
fornallas (furnaces), and red flames were
leaping from the doors as they were opened
to receive the fuel. The loud puffing of the
two hundred -horse-power engine could be
heard as it drove the enormous fluted iron
rollers with dismal clanking and monotonous
roar. About these, revealed by the flaming
torches that lit the scene, were collected a
band of Spanish officers, re-enforced by a
squad of soldiers, who stood with bayonets
over half a dozen negro captives who were
being subjected to the most inhuman tor-
ture.

Poor wretches! they had just been cap-
tured and brought in, and knowing them to
be in arms against Spain, as were all run-
away slaves, they were being tortured to
make them reveal the secrets of those who
were fighting for their liberation. One of
the poor beings was bound, and in the hands
of two stalwart soldiers, who had _ just
thrust one of his hands into the iron rollers
of the sugar mill; but only a shriek of mor-
tal agony had come from his lips—no word
of betrayal of his comrades.

Enraged at their inability to extort a con-
fession from the hapless slave, even by tor-
ture, the merciless Spaniards coolly began
to bind him to the great iron-trucked feeder
that moved slowly toward the huge rollers.

When the work was finished the feeder
was brought to,a stop near the rollers, and
the poor victim was again questioned, but
his lips were mute. With a savage gesture
the commanding officer signaled that the
dreadful work proceed.

Sick with horror and almost ready to
faint, the boys turned from the window that
they might not witness the appalling sight.
Simultaneously with their movement came
& sharp shriek of awful agony as the rollers
did their dreadful work.

‘‘Heavens! can such monsters be human?’’
Cried Tom, his face as pallid as death, even
in the red light that streamed through the
Window. ‘‘Oh, why will the civilized and
Christian countries ot the world allow such
Work to go on?’’

Tt’s awful!’’ said Toby, shaking with
orror.

They were interrupted by the sound of
Steps outside the door, then the fastenings
Were removed, the door was thrown open,
nd an officer entered with two soldados
(Soldiers) , bearing torches close behind.

““Ah, the senors Americanos have been
Witnessing our treatment of those spies,’’ he
“aid, in English, removing his sombrero and

aking a polite bow. ‘‘Perhaps the senors
Would like to be dealt with in the same
Way???

“We are not spies,’? said Tom.
°nly here on private business.’’

h ‘Ah, but you Americanos have business
te when you are not wanied.”’

At this juncture another officer entered,
fd drawing the paper taken from Tom
"om his pocket. he said: ,
thi Para quien es lacarta?’’ (For whom is

cxetter?)

‘*We are

etter
. Yes, for whom, indeed, is this letter?’’
‘aid the first officer.
Ath om tried to explain that it was only a
ref? of a locality he was to visit, but they

 

= Used to listen to his words, and after in-
Tming the prisoners that they might ex-
feet to receive the same treatment that had
Rive given the slaves, unless they would
Pr ®a more satisfactory explanation of their
t},©nce in Cuba, and reveal the meaning of
the: mysterious document, the officers took
‘ir departure. ;
®ft to themselves, ‘the prisoners sank
Wn upon the hard mattress, a prey to the

 

       
 

rq gloomy forebodings. Would the Span-
nai put their threats into execution and
aa the same torture upon them that was
Was peing meted out to the slayes? There
4 Yo, ‘ttle doubt that they would keep their
th. 3 for in the war that was being waged
Noy “e “9g been known to spare neither age

   

-_ & .
& If we could only get word to Don

Moroles, he might help us,’’ said Toby.
‘*But how could it be done?’’

‘‘T don’t know,’’ replied Tom, ‘‘unless we
could get them to send a messenger to him
for us, but even then he would be powerless
to aid us unless he was known to have
strong sympathies with Spain.’’

Again that piercing shriek came from
below, chilling the blood of the youthful
prisoners and causing them to grow sick
with horror.

ful country!’’ moaned Toby, bowing his
head upon Fis hands. ‘‘What shall we do—
what can we do?’’

Tom leaned against the wall, faint and
dizzy, his lips tightly compressed, unable to
utter even one word of hope or consolation
to his distressed companion.

How the night passed neither of them ever
knew. It all seemed like some hideous
dream. Half-reclining on their hard couch,
they dropped into a troubled sleep, which
lasted till the red beams of the morning sun
came in at the small window.

But even the cheerful light of the morn-
ing had no power to dissipate the horrors of
the night. From the window squads of
soldiers could be seen moving hither and
thither, while close by the crusher stood a
rude cart, into which were being, tumbled
the mangled bodies of the victims of Spanish
inhumanity.

The prisoners had just turned from the
window when the door was thrown open
and a Spanish officer entered.

He removed his sombrero, and greeted the
boys with a graceful bow. Then lifting his
hand, he said:

‘*By order of el Capitan Romaz, the com-
mander of the garrison, I beg to inform the
senors that one hour has been granted them
to prepare for death!’’

And without another word, he bowed
with mock humility, and withdrew.

The announcement fell like a knell on
Toby and Tom, and long after the officer
departed they: stood silent, stupefied, the
dreadful words still ringing in their ears.
The two stood clasping each other’s hand,
Toby leaning upon Tom as if for support,
Their faces were as pale as death, and when
they looked into each other’s eyes, no ray
of hope was reflected.

Toby uttered a stifled sob and buried his
face on Tom’s shoulder. Tears for a moment
dimmed Tom’s eyes, and when he sought to
utter some words of comfort to his despair-
ing companion, his voice failed him, and
the words died upon his trembling lips.

little squads, their bright guns gleaming in
the rays of the morning sun. In front of the
great fluted rollers an armed guard was
drawn up in line, while the wreaths of
black smoke curling above the enormous
chimneys told that fires were being rekindled
in the furnaces,

The sight of these preparations had a
dreadful significance to the doomed prisoners.

Tom was the first to break the silence. He
laid his hand on Toby’s shoulder, and spoke
in a trembling whisper:

‘‘They are preparing to kill us, Toby,
just as they did the poor slaves last night.
We must not wait till they drag us to the
slaughter like cattle—we must make an at-
tempt to gain our liberty—it may cost us
our lives—but it will give us a chance. See,
it is only a short distance to. the cane
thicket,’’ and he pointed to the cane that
was’ growing rank, and having remained
long uncut, was encroaching on the very
furnaces themselves.

If they could only reach the cover of this
cane jungle there would be a chance of es-
cape. The plan formed in Tom’s mind was
for them to leap through the window, and
run for shelter, Of course it was a desperate
undertaking, as soldiers were swarming
about the grounds, but the very boldness of
the plan might aid in its success,

Tom had discovered that the window could
be easily raised; but why the Spaniards had
not looked to the fastenings was doubtless
due to their disbelief in the possibility of the
youthful prisoners making any attempt to
escape. In as few words as possible, Tom
imparted his plan to Toby, who was quick
to give it his approval. But there was no
time to be lost. Every moment was pre-
cious, and might turn the seale of life and
death,

Tom took his station by the window, while
Toby stood close by, waiting for Tom to
throw up the sash and give the order to leap
out. Tom placed his hand on the window,
ready to raise the sash, but bis plan was
not destined to be put into effect, for at that
moment there came a wild, exultant ery
from the thicket beyond the works—from

to the forests—a cry that Tob
could not forget—a cry that ha
to many a Spaniard’s heart,

“Cuba Libre! Viva Cuba Libre! Viva
Cuba Libre!’? (Long live free Cuba!)

The very air seemed filled with the ringing
words, and simultaneous with their utter-
ance came the sharp, incessant firing of
guns. In amoment, and as if by magic,
score on score of half-clad negroes, with
smoking guns and deadly machetes in their
hands, leaped wildly into the open space,
swarmed from brake and thicket, which

and Tom
sent terror

 

seemed congested with a mass of dark, leap-
ing forms, and fell upon the Spanish soldiers

‘‘Oh, if we had never come to this dread- |

Below the soldiers could be seen moving in |

the cane-fields, and from the paths that led :

with all the
spires,

| Inaninstant the air of placid security
| that had pervaded the garrison gave place
to one of panic and terror. The troops that
| were drawn in line at the furnaces stood for
|a moment as if to repell the attack, but as
the living wave of war-like forms swept
upon them from the cover, they wavered;
| then, panic-stricken, they fled in wild dis
order, the dreaded cry of ‘'Viva Cuba
Libre!’ ringing in their ears.

Pistols in hand, the officers tried to rally
their terror-stricken men, but to no pur-
|pose. Even had they succeeded, it would
| have been useless to have attempted to stay
that mad tide of vengeful blacks whose
hatred for Spain was the une ruling passion
of their lives.

Once in the fray, they lost all sense of
fear or mercy, and were only moved by one
mad impulse—to utterly sweep from the
face of the earth the hated Spanish oppres-
sors.

It was a scene to iuspire the stoutest
hea~t with fear, and the youthful prisoners
stoou by the window, stupefied with the
sight as they watched the conflict.

Close upon the retreating Spaniards the
black troops of the patriots came, and now
throwing themselves on the foe, cut them
down without mercy.

There were but few whites among the
rebel forces, for more than two-thirds of
the entire army was composed of runaway
slaves.

The fight was of short duration, and when
it was over, the entire force of the garrison
had either been killed or driven away in
wild disorder, leaving the patriot troops in
victorious possession. It was a complete vic-
tory, and a speedy vengeance on the merci-
less Spaniards for their inhuman work of
the night before.

A large supply of arms and provisions
had been captured, which wasa valuable
acquisition to the almost destitute victors.

So sudden and unexpected had been the
attack that the prisoners hardly realized
what had taken place till it was all over.
It now occurred to them that they might
have made their escape during the confusion
of the conflict, yet they could not have done
so without serious danger of being cut down
by the enraged negroes, who would have
doubtless mistaken them for Spaniards.

But the boys felt profoundly thankful that
they were out of the clutches of the Spanish
troops, who had pronounced the sentence of
death upon them. But now they were as-
sailed by another thought: Would they fare
any better by falling into the bands of the
insurrectionists?

It was a question they had not the power
to answer. But the solution was near at
hand, for even as the thought came to them
there was a tramp of feet without, then the
sound of the fastenings being removed from
the door,

thirst for blood that war in-

 

CHAPTER XXIII.

FOR FREE CUBA,

    

q r

HE prisoners had scarcely time to turn

from the window when the door was
flung open, and a white man of about
thirty, wearing the uniform of an
officer, entered, and an armed body of negro
soldiers at his back. He carried a machete
in his hand, and uttering some words in
Spanish, signaled for the boys to surrender,

‘‘We are Americans, and cannot speak
Spanish,’’ said Tom.

‘Ah, you are Americans!”’
officer, in good English.
doing here?’’

‘*We were taken frisoners and brought
here last night,’’ replied Tom.

‘Then you have not been. fighting tor
Spain?’’ said the officer.

‘*Heaven forbid that we should ever raise
our hands for those inhuman Spaniards!’’
said Tom, feelingly.

‘*Bravo! well said, my boy!’’ cried the
officer, his face lighting at Tom’s words. ‘‘I
too, am an American, and have enlisted in
the cause of Cuban liberty. When did you
come to Cuba?’’

“Only a few days ago,’’ replied Tom.

‘*Where were you when captured by the
Spanish?’’

‘‘Near Jarez, where we had come to look
after some affairs relating to my uncle, who
died in Cuba several years ago.’’

‘‘Were you in Havana?”’

‘*T left there day before yesterday.”’

‘‘Ah, then you may be able to give us
some important information. Come, let us
go below. I desire our commander, General
Estrada, to see you at once.’’

‘‘What! is he here?’’ questioned Tom, in
surprise. ‘‘In Havana it is reported that he
is near Manzanillo, and is daily expected to
attack the fortress there,’’

‘‘The outside world does not always krow
of our movements,’’ said the officer, with a
smile, as he led the way from the room,

Descending a flight of steirs, the boys were
ushered into.a wide, airy room, occupied by
an individual of military bearing, who stood
by the farther door, evidently issuing orders
to a subordinate -yho had just come up.

said the
‘‘What are you

 

‘*Ah, it is you, Captain Henderson?’’ he
said, in a strong Spanish accent, as the
three came in. ‘‘What! who have we here?”’
he added, as his eyes fell upon the two boys.

 

‘*Two boys of my own country,’’ replied
the captain. ‘‘They were prisoners in the
hands of the Spaniards when we captured
the garrison. They came from Havana only
a few days ago, and maybe they will be
able to give some information that will be
of some value to us,”’

The general shook hands with the boys.

‘*Welcome to Cuba Libre,’’ he said, ‘‘ Ah,
if, we only had more Americans in Cuba,
Spain would soon be deporting her troops as
fast as she is now massing them upon the
island.’

‘*Do you not still hope for success?’’ said
Tom. ‘‘In Havana itis reported that the
patriots have no hope, and are merely keep-
ing up a defensive warfare in the interior,
where it is difficult for the Spanish forces to
penetrate.”’

‘‘While freedom has a foothold on earth,
we shall never cease to hope that time will
bring its establishment in Cuba,’’ said the
general, a light of earnest enthusiasm
shining in his dark eyes.

General Estrada’s treatment of the boys
was most cordial, and when he had heard
their story, he readily offered them protec-
tion, advising that they remain at the gar-
rison till the following day, when he would
dispatch some one to conduct them safely to
wherever they wished to go.

They remained nearly an hour in the
general’s presence, and many questions were
asked of them, chiefly among which was
that relating to the feeling existing in the
United States regarding the Cuban rebellion.
Was there any prospett of the ‘great repub-
lic giving aid to the patriots, and what was
being done regarding the Americans who
were forming companies to help in the
struggle for Cuban freedom?

Upon these questions the boys could give
little information, as they had but meager
knowledge of the Cuban rebellion before
landing upon the island.

The boys spent the day at Captain Hen-
derson’s headquarters, which was in the
south wing of the building in which they
had béen imprisoned.

Captain Henderson was a native of
Georgia, and had come to Cuba and had
joined the patriot army two years before,
He had much to say about Cespedes, the
president of Free Cuba, and had a profound
admiration for the great leader.

‘‘T met Cespedes for the first time at his
headquarters near Manzanillo,’’ said the
captain, ‘‘and he gave mea most cordial
welcome. He is rather below the medium in
stature, but his form is erect and of com-
pact build, while his eyes, of a grayish-
brown, are full of fire. He wore a full beard
and mustache then, which was streaked
with gray, but his movements were ener-
getic and full of resolution.

‘*His soul seems imbued with but one
thought, and that is the liberation of Cuba
from the oppression and misrule of Spain.
The outside world knows but little of his
steadfast principles and patriotism. Should
the present rebellion succeed, he will be
classed with the greatest heroes and liber-
ators of the age; but should failure be the
result, history, which only glorifies that
which succeeds, will doubtless write him a
hot-headed revolutionist, who was mixed up
in some sanguinary disturbances in Cuba.’’

In the afternoon the boys, in company
with Captain Henderson, made a tour about
the works, which were now being put in
readiness to be set in operation.

The creole and negro soldiers were busy
hurrying about the grounds, some bringing
fuel for the furnaces, while others were cut-
ting the cane and bringing it in carts from
the field.

Meantime a vigilant picket duty was kept
up, though little fear ot an attack of the
Spaniards was entertained.

By the afternoon of the next day the fires
had been kindled in the great furnaces, and
in the caldrons was boiling the juice of
the cane.

The apparatus for crushing the cane con-
sisted of three enormous fluted iron rollers
playing over each other, and driven by an
engine of a hundred horse-power. A long
trough-like carriage, mounted on iron
trucks, and conducted by an endless chain,
conveyed the cane to the crushers.

Many of the negroes had been raised on
sugar plantations, and were thoroughly
familiar with the business of manufacturing
sugar and syrup, so the work was carried
on with ease and dispatch.

The sights about the busy works were all
new and novel to Tom and Toby, and they
would have taken great pleasure in remain-
ing at the ingenio a week had the situation
of affairs been different. But the dangers
and trials they had already gone through
since coming to the turbulent island made
them anxious to leave the place and start on
their return as soon as possible.

So it was planned that they should set out
on their journey at nightfall. It would have
been folly to have sent a large guard with
the boys, as such an act would have only
served to increase their danger, but a
trusted guide was to be dispatched with
them, a runaway slave, who knew every
foot of the ground to be passed over, and
who had more than once penetrated the
very lines of the enemy.

‘“Pedro is as good as a regiment with
you,’’ said Captain Henderson, ‘‘and he is
as brave as he is honest and trustworthy.”

   
  
   
 
 
  
    
  
  
   
     
    
      
    
   
     
   
    
   
    
     
  
    
  
   
   
     
    
 
  
  
  
   
 
   
 
     
    
     
  
    
  
  
  
    
  
 
     
  
    
  
   
   
  
  
    
 
 

 

 

 

 

    
  
 
 
  
   
 

 

 

4412

Each of the boys was provided with a
pistol, while Pedro was armed with a car-
bine and a heavy machete, and carried a
haversack well-stored with provisions.

While horses might have been had, the
course of their journey, which lay through
deep forests and tangled undergrowth, pre-
cluded the practicability of their use.

It was just sunset when, having bade Cap-
tain Henderson a warm good-by, the boys
quitted the ingenio, and following the guide
along a tortuous path into the forest, they
began their perilous journey.

CHAPTER XXIV.
THROUGH THE FOREST.

UBA is the land of splendid forests,

ahs in which the stately and graceful

palm reigns as: queen. Next comes

the mahogany, Cuban ebony, sabicci

and cedar, all of which are of great com-

mercial value for cabinet-work and _ ship-
building.

In an island with the natural wealth and
wonderful productiveness of Cuba, it seems
almost miraculous that over 18,000,000 acres
of land should still be lying in a wild state,
with over 10,000,000 of uncleared forest—
forests so vast and dense as to be almost im-
penetrable. Yet this is the actual condition.

Toby and Tom felt greatly impressed with
the scene of wild grandeur as they pene-
trated the forest.

Strange wild birds flew from the tangled
brush with screams of fright as they made
their way through the darkness, while here
and there great fire-flies flashed their pale
lamps in the dark foliage.

The progress of the travelers was for the
most part tedious and slow, for frequently
they were compelled to cut their way
through masses of tangled vines.

Pedro walked in advance, machete in
hand, and now and then he would stop and
listen to make sure that no enemy was near.
The journey was continued toward Jarez till
about three o’clock in the morning, when a
halt was made.

Pedro, who could speak English brokenly,
now announced that they would rest here
till late the next day. They sat down ona
pile of palm leaves and ate a portion of the
lunch from Pedro’s haversack. They did not
dare to make a light, for fear of attracting
the enemy, who might be lurking near, but
ate their frugal lunch in darkness.

The boys had had little opportunity to re-
flect on the situation since leaving the sugar
mill, but the matter now intruded itself on
their minds. Where was Horace Bird? What
did he think of their absence, when he had
returned to the place where he had left
them? Would he suspect what had happened?
and what had become of the treasure?
Would the inn-keeper convey if to Chorrera?

These questions passed rapidly through the
boys’ minds, but when they attempted to
answer any of them iv only served to in-
crease their perplexity.

‘‘We had better push on directly to
Havana,’’ said Tom. ‘‘It would be out of
our way to go by Jarez, and it is not likely
we would find Harry or Bird there. When
they had finished their lunch of dried meat,
boiled sweet potatoes and hard cakes of
cavassa (bread made of the root of the bitter
cavassa), they stretched themselves upon a
bed of palm leaves and soon fell asleep.

They had slept but a short time when
Toby was suddenly awakened by a sensation
as if something was crawling over him. He
started up with a feeling of terror, half be-
lieving that some huge serpent was dragging
its slimy length across him. As he did so he
felt a sharp pain in his ankle, and cried out,
in fright and pain:

‘*T1’m snake bit! I’m snake bit!’’ he
yelled, leaping to his feet, and trying to
shake off the strange intruder.

His cries brought Tom and Pedro to their

eet.

‘‘What is it, Toby?’’ asked Tom, trying
to peer through the darkness, and fully
convinced that the Spaniards were upon
them.

‘Somethin’ got hold of my ankle—it’s
biting me!—it’s a snake, I know it is!’’ said
Toby, hopping about in pain and terror.

Pedro oy struck a match, and, stoop-
ing at Toby’s side, soon discovered what
had caused the trouble.

‘*Big lan’ crab,’’ he said, with a laugh,
holding before the boys’ gaze a very large
specimen of the mollusk tribe.

‘*But it’s still biting me!’’ cried Toby,
bending over his injured limb, and trying
to detach something that was adhering to
the flesh.

‘‘Wait, let me fix him,”’
**Tt’s only him’s claw.’’

And again stooping,
source of the trouble.

‘“Gee whiz!’’ exclaimed Toby. ‘‘Is that
all it was? I thought a boa-constrictor had
got hold of me.’’

said Pedro.

he removed the

‘*Look! look!’’ said Tom. ‘‘The ground is
covered with them. Where could they have

come from? We must be near the sea.’’

Pedro had made a torch of a piece of

resinous wood, and now by its light could

be seen large numbers of awkward-looking
land crabs running hither and thither, and

disappearing wherever cover could be found.

   
  
 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
  
    
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
   
   
 
  
   
 
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
  
 
  
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
   
  
    
   
   
  
   
     
 
 
  
    
   
   
  
  
   

GroonDpD

breakfast. Buenos—mucho buenos’’ (very
good), and he began to gather them up,
avoiding their pincers as he did so, and
striking them against the trunk of a tree.
These land crabs, among which was the
violet land crab of Jamaica, are very numer-
ous in the West Indies, and make a toothsome
dish. They live in communities, forming bur-
rows often miles from the sea. Once a year
they travel to the seain great numbers to de-
posit their spawn. They journey by night, and
have powerful pincers, with which they at-
tack any #nemy, easily throwing off the
claw, and leaving it fastened to their an-
tagonist. The claw, after being detached,
still retains its tension for a time, and the
crab seems to suffer no inconvenience from
the loss of a part of its anatomy.

‘*My stars! but those things do bite!’’ de-
clared Toby. ‘‘But I’ll get even with the
gentleman crab by eating him for my
breakfast. ’’

Daylight, which comes rapidly in the
tropics, was now breaking, and by the time
the boys had gathered some sticks. with
which to build a fire, the sun had risen as
with a bound, and was flooding the forest
with its amber light.

Birds of brilliant plumage screamed their

discordant notes, that seemed strangely harsh
to the boys when compared with the songs
of the birds of the north.
While the land crabs were being roasted,
after the directions given by the guide,
Pedro dug some roots of the sweet cavassa,
and prepared them for the table, or the
haversack rather, for it was on this that
their meal was spread.

‘‘But we have no water,’’ said Tom.
‘‘What are we todo? Even if we could find
a spring or well, it would be dangerous to
drink of it, as it might have been poisoned
by the Spaniards.’’

“TY git we buenos ayua’’ (good water),
said Pedro.

‘¢But where?’’ asked Tom.

The guide pointed to some long, trailing
vines hanging from a tree close by. They
were of brownish-drab in color, and covered
with a thick, fibrous bark. Nothing in the
forest seemed less dry, and the boys were
still perplexed.

Pedro only grinned good-humoredly, and
drawing his machete, he severed one of the
liana, or trailing vines, and turning the
stick up to his mouth, more than a pint of
clear water issued therefrom, which he
swallowed with evident satisfaction.

Then signaling the boys to follow his ex-
ample, he cut two more sticks from the
liana, which he gave to them. They drank,
finding the water cool and perfectly whole-
some.

‘‘Well, now that beats me!’’ declared
Toby. ‘‘This is indeed a wonderful country,
where fruit, bread, and even water grow on
trees.’’

This fountain vine, or bejuco, as it is
called, is well distributed throughout the
forests of Cuba, and its juice is drank with
great relish by the natives, it being more
wholesome, and satisfying the thirst better
than the milk of the cocoanut.

The travelers spent most of the day in
rest and sleep, and the sun was low in the
horizon when they resumed their tedious
journey.

As night came down mutterings of distant
thunder could be heard, and little gusts of
wind began to swirl through the nodding
palms.

‘‘There’s going to be a storm,’’ said Tom,
glancing at the heavens, which were being
overspread with a thin haze, but at that
moment a sharp bark, which was prolonged
into a dismal bay, came from the depths of
the forest.

‘‘Hark! what was that?’’ cried Tom, in
alarm.

Pedro had come to a halt, and was listen-
ing intently.

Again the ominous bark was borne on the
eddying wind, and this time nearer and more
distinct than before.

The sound seemed to fill the guide with
sudden alarm and apprehension.

He turned tothe boys with a quick ges-
ture, and said:

‘‘Wild dogs! We must fly for our lives!’’

(TO BE CONTINUED.)
~~ 6

REAL FUN.

 

A fond mother sent her small boy into the
country for a holiday and after a week of
anxiety received the following reassuring
letter :

‘‘Dear Ma:—I got here all right, and I
forgot to write before. It is a very nice
place to have fun. A fellow and I went out
in a boat, and the boat tipped over, and a
man got me out, and I was so full of water
that I didn’t know nothing for a long time.
The other boy is to be buried when they
find him. His mother came down from her
home and she cried. all the time. A hoss
kicked me over, and I’ve got to have some
money to pay the doctor for mending my
head. Weare going to set an old barn on

1 lost my watch,

sha’n’t have some fun.
I shall bring home

and I am very sorry.

I can get them in my trunk. I’ve got a box

fire to-night, and lam not your sonif we

some snakes, and a toad, and a tame cow, if

 

NEWS.

A NIGHT OF HORRORS.

AN ADVENTURE IN THE AUSTRA-
LIAN BUSH.

.

 

BY HENRY CLARKE.

intl

OOD-BY, old fellow,’’ I said, as I
shook my brother Ned’s hand in
front of our station at Warrabonga,
not far from the coast. ‘‘I have no

doubt Tom will meet me at Warra Warra,
and I shall then have no further trouble in
finding my way on to Bolingo.’’
Further farewells having been exchanged,
I mounted my steed, leading two pack-
horses, and started for the station our
brother had for some months been engaged |
in establishing up the country.
I had only lately arrived in Australia, but |
having been for some time in the western |
part of Canada, I considered myself a!
thorough backwoodsman, and laughed as I
was told of the dangers I might have to en- |
counter.
The first two or three days, as I seldom |!
had to go far without passing the hut of a
settler, or meeting shepherds, or stockmen,
or travelers, my spirits didn’t flag; but as I
pushed on, the extreme stillness, never
broken except by the screams of birds or the
yelping of bush-dogs, the monotony of the
scene—nothing but trees, trees, all so like
one another—caused an indescribable feel-
ing of loneliness.

I had. been traveling since daybreak,

hoping to reach Warra Warra before dark;

but evening had come on, and no signs of
the station could I discover.

As my horses were tired, and I felt some-

what done up myself, I knew that I must |

camp without delay.

Fortunately I discovered a water-hole, and }

having selected a spot uncer a tree, I un-

loaded, watered, and hobbled my horses,
and turned them out to feed.

I next lighted a fire, put my tea-pot on to

boil for tea, and proceeded to make a cake

of flour and water, which, after’ scraping a

hole in the ashes, i put in it to bake.

While this was doing, I cooked a slice of

kangaroo flesh obtained at the last hut I

called at.

 

 

down with my saddle as my pillow, wrapped

things close to my back, to form a screen
from the night wind.

After sleeping for perhaps an hour or so,
I was awakened by hearing my horse utter
a neigh close to me. I was wondering what
had disturbed the sagacious animal, when I
heard a low rustling among the bushes.

Lying still, I again heard the rustling.
Could it be produced by natives or dingoes?

The latter most likely, as I knew that
the ferocious beasts infested that part of the
country, to the great annoyance of the shep-
herds. I remembered all the stories I had
heard of their attacking unwary travelers
while asleep on the ground, and I also called
to mind the murders committed by the
blacks in all parts of the country. In case
natives should be near, I dared not move,
for fear of betraying my whereabouts.

My pistols were in my holsters. I felt for
os nife.

had forgotten to sheathe it after cutting
the kangaroo stake, and had left it near the
tea-pot by the fire.

The noise came nearer and nearer.

I could hear the other horses trampling
through the grass, as if they also had been
disturbed. Hither blacks or dingoes were to
be dreaded. The suspense was horrible. I
could hear my heart go gee ome pit-pat, and
I fancied the noise would betray me.

Then came a sniffing sound, like an animal
on the scent. It drew closer and closer. I
could see two glowing balls glaring at me
by the light of the expiring embers of the
fire. For a moment I expécted that the ani-
mal would leap upon me.

All of a sudden I found myself, as I sat
up, knocked over by a great, hairy body. I
tried to cry out, but my tongue clove to the
roof of my mouth. It was indeed fearful. . I
expected the next instant to feel its teeth
gnawing at my throat.

Presently, as I lay, I felt a rough tongue
licking my face and some animal instead of
tearing me limb from ‘limb, was fawning
upon me as if I had been an old friend whom
it had met after a long absence.

I rose! to my feet. Having collected a good
heap of sticks before I lay down, I quickly
had a blazing fire.

Cautiously leading the animal up to it,
what was my surprise to find a magnificent
Newfoundland dog, which I remembered
having seen with a party of fresh arrivals
some weeks before. They had, I supposed,
gone into the interior ina different direc-
tion to that which I had taken. I at once
guessed that the poor animal had strayed
away from their camp, and had wandered
about the bush for three weeks at least,
living on whatever he could pick up. When
he thus encountered me, he was almost
starved to death.

After I had given hima good meal, he
lay down to sleep. I tried to rest, but the

Having made a substantial supper, I lay

myself in my blanket, and piled up several | brightly as ever.

pipe and sat down by the fire, expecting
that I should keep awake.

I got up two or three times to look after
the horses, when the dog was sure to awake
and follow me about with his watchful eyes,
as if he was afraid of being again deserted.

Again I sat down, but omitted to put fresh
fuel on the fire, thinking that it would burn
a little longer without it.

I must have suddenly dropped off to sleep,
for on opening my eyes I saw that the fire
was nearly out. At the same moment I
heard a strange noise coming from the wood
at a little distance off. I listened, but could
not make out what the sounds were,
whether produced by wild animals or hu-
man beings.

Kangaroos, I believed, were silent, and I
thought that I should have recognized the
barking or yelping of dingoes. Perhaps they
might be emitted by emus or some other
strange birds.

At last I could no longer bear the sus-
pense, and getting my pistols and knife, I
cautiously advanced, with my new friend,
Neptune, as I called him, following close at
my heels. He seemed unwilling to go, but
evidently was more unwilling to let me go
alone.

On and on I went along the border of the
wood. The noises grew louder and louder.
I grasped a pistol in one hand and my knife
in the other, and advanced still more cau-
tiously.

The moon had risen a pale-crescent in the
skies, and its light, as it shone through the
trees, enabled ine to find my way.

Again I asked myself can these sounds be
produced by human beings?

Presently I got to some bushes, which,
though thick below, spread out. sufficiently
above to enable me to look through them.
I was, I confess, startled.

‘*Am I dreaming, or are those phantoms
of another world I see before me?’’ I said
to myself.

A fire was burning in an open glade at the
side nearest to me, and beyond it I beheld a
dozen or more skeletons dancing in the most
wild and fantastic manner—now one arm
raised, now another, then they were placed
akimbo; now one leg went up; now they
sprang into the air; indeed, no figures in a
Punch and Judy show, with strings pulled
ever so vehemently, could have performed
so many strange movements.

Then suddenly they vanished from sight,
though the fire was evidently burning as

Had I had a hand at liberty, I should
have rubbed my eyes to try and make sure
that I really saw before me those strange
objects.

‘*T suppose it must have been fancy,’’ I
said to myself; ‘‘but there is a fire burning;
there’s no doubt about it.’’

The noises had ceased.

under some strange hallucination, when sud-

,denly the troop of skeletons again came in-

to sight, and began performing their antics
as before.

I felt riveted to the spot—though I would
gladly have escaped.

Neptune stood by me all the time, but I
suppose, being lower down, he’ could not
have perceived what was going forward, or
had they been beings of another world he
would have turned tail and fled.

At least, whatever they were, I was feel-
ing very much inclined todo the same,
when one of them—the tallest of the band—
advancing close to the fire, I saw beyon
the white bones of the skeleton a burly black
fellow, and I then guessed what an older
settler would have known at once, that they

bory.
As the savage seemed to be peering in my

that, should I be discovered, the blacks
might make me a target for their lances, oF
perhaps roast and eat me, or at all events
steal my horses.

Waiting for some time, I crept away 4
noiselessly as I could, and: managed, 1°
without difficulty, to regain my camp.

I took good care not to relight my fire. It
seemed a wonder that it had not attracted
the natives’ notice. 1 could only suppo%?
that the thick wood being between the!
and it, they had not perceived the light. f

The moment the first faint streaks bf
dawn appeared in the sky, I loaded 4%
saddled my horses. and making a circuit 1
avoid the native camp, pushed on, thankfu
that my night of horrors had come to #
end. ,

I was expecting again to have to camp
out in solitude, when I caught sight of in
horseman galloping across the country
the distance. hallooed at the top of
voice, and waved my handkerchief to ® p
tract his notice, till he came galloping if
to me; when, to my joy, I recognize we
brother Tom. He had been looking fot. ot
at. Warra Warra, andifinding that { had
arrived, had ccme on to meet me. nd

We reached the place the same night, xd
at length got safe to Bolingo, accompa”
by Neptune, who was my faithful ©",
panion for many a year afterward, !jis
had no opportunity of returning him © 74
former master. He rendered me ra

a
vice for the protection I had afforde bits

neve

 

alarm I had experienced had completely

 

 

‘‘Dem trabbel miles from de sea,’’ said
Pedro. ‘‘Wecatch they—him’s good for we’s

 

of frogs already. Your loving
‘‘ JOHNNIE.’?’

 

knocked all sleep out of me. So I lit my

    

 

tending to prove that a good deed
goes unrewarded.

 

I began to think that I must have been ©

 

il latte
mm

 

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were a party of natives dancing a corob-

direction, I crouched down, for I thought 7

 

 

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hi, Bie thirteen stamps constituting the issue,
By
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tg

‘ur Stamp ‘ALBUM.

E would advise collectors, if they
are lucky enough to have two or
more old stamps joined together,
not to separate them. It is better

to make sacrifices in other directions, if the
collection needs them, and cling to undi-
vided blocks or pair's of obsolete issues. Ad-
vanced collectors have a taste for that sort
of thing, and to judge from recent experi-
ences, the day of high prices for them is
only beginning.
* * * *

The Italian Government is almost as con-
servative as Great Britain in the matter of
royal philatelic portraits. A new 45-centesi-
mi stamp has been issued, of that pale-green
shade called reseda, and the design differs
from all that have preceded it, but the
portrait of King Humbert is precisely the
same as that first employed when his like-
ness began to decorate stamps in 1879. Six-
teen years have made a heavy mark upon
his appearance. His hair is now white, and
the colossal and violent mustache, which he
inherits from his father, is not only much
wilder and stiffer, but very gray as well.

* * * *

We strongly advise our friends to pay at-
tention to the older European issues, espe-
cially of the States which are now postally
extinct. Earlier stamps of countries like
Prussia, Saxony, the Thurin and Taxis and
North German Confederation, Modena, Tus-
cany, Austrian Italy; and numerous others
are still obtainable at small prices, and even
where the States still continue issuing
stamps—to mention Portugal, Spain, Lux-
emburg, Austria, Greece, Denmark, Wurt-
emburg, Belgium, and Bavaria, as special
examples—it will be the part of shrewdness
to make collections of these as complete as
possible before the inevitable boom in Euro-
peans begin. The new Seuf catalogue for
1895 shows how timely this advice is,
Europeans such as we have mentioned—
many of them until now regarded as the
commonest of the common—are all going up
in value.

* * * *

A curious discovery has recently been
made. Everybody knows the 12-cent purple,
with the portrait of Henry Clay, which was
in use in the United States from 1870 to
1890. It is, of course, well known that its
color varies a good deal, and specialists dis-
tinguish at least eight well-defined shades,
from pale lilac to reddish purple. [t has now
been found that a difference in design exists
as well. The figure, too, is differently
drawn, In some the upper and lower left-
hand corners are much heavier, and have a
well-defined round spot at the ends of the
quirls. This variety is found to exist in
dealers’ stocks of this stamp, in the ratio
of about five ina hundred. It will, there-
fore, become very rare. Our friends should
lose no time in searching their albums for
it. .

; * * * *

Ever since the new Grand Duke Adolph
of Luxemburg, first saw the stamps that
Were made for him in 1891, shortly after his
accession, he is said to have disliked them
Vehemently. For one thing, he always wears
glasses, and the full-face portrait of him,
Without these adornments, did not seem a
00d likeness. Again, it was undoubtedly an
Ugly face, and what is the good of being a
grand duke if you cannot have a fine coun-
tenance ascribed to you on your postage
Stamps? Accordingly, after several false
announcements, a new issue has actually
Made its appearance. Only five stamps are
Sut as yet, the 1, 2,4, 5, and 10 centimes,
but no doubt a set of larger values will fol-
low shortly. They are to be had in the offi-
lal form as well, with the familiar black
Sucrharge ‘‘S. P.’’ It will be noted that of
the five mentioned, only the 10-centime car-
Mine displaces one of the 1891 portrait series.

he other four are in place of the symbolical-
ure stamps of 1882.
* * + *

New Zealand not only issues a new half-

Penny newspaper stamp, to take the place
the undersized pink label so long in use,

Ut she contemplates an entire new issue on
SOmewhat original lines. The postmaster
8eneral advertises for drawings for eleven
fferent stamps, ‘‘each to include a repre-
‘entation of characteristic or notable New
®aland scenery or genre.’’ The artist may
fhoose between the oblong shape and size of
United States Columbian stamps or the

py rectangle now in use. The prize
“one the best series is $750, and for the second

St $500, and competition is limited to per-
ns resident in the colony. As it closes July
St, the new stamps may be expected by
ter, |
* * * *
oyube last issue of Mexican stamps is very
Umsy and ugly. When one reflects that
ae are the outcome of a widely advertised
petitive struggle among the artists of
we. ico, and are presumably the best that
vse offered, the conclusion is painful as re-
rae the state of Spanish-American art.

sumably a rural postman on foot, accom-
panied by adog. The 4-centavo vermilion
and 12-centavo olive-brown present a mail
carrier mounted on a mule, and appropri-
ately guided by another and riderless donkey.
The 10-centavo lilac and 15-centavo pale
peacock-blue, 20-centavo claret, and 50-
centavo purple show a still further develop-
ment of the mail service in the form of a
mountain diligence, drawn by five mules.
The three highest values, the 1-peso light-
brown, 5-peso
indigo, portray a, rudimentary railway en-
gine plowing its way through a clump of
what look to be nigger babies, but are really
cactus plants. There was included in the
original list of designs adopted, if we re-
member aright, a steamship, but this does
not appear, and there is in its place a 5-
centavo ultramarine, with what might be
taken for a picture of a native in a fit, but
is said to be a statue of Guatemozin, the
last of the Aztec rulers.
+ * * *

Brazil has issued a new postal card of the
value of 40 reis, and a letter card of 200
reis.

* * *

Victoria has now completed its set of new
unpaid letter stamps by addition of the 2-
shilling value.

¥ * * *

There are two new surcharges from Natal.
One of these, a half-penny in red on the old
sixpence violet, is likely to at once become
rare and valuable. It was issued on March
14th, and only remained in use six days.
Some $1,500 worth were sold the first day,
and $750 the second, which exhausted the
issue, and no more were printed. The other,
the surcharge ‘‘half’?’ on the common cur-
rent penny stamp, is not.likely to be very
rare.

* * *

There are many old English penny stamps
with the same letter in alJl four corners.
This is true of all the letters of the alphabet
down to and including L. It will be found
not to occur with M, or those following
down to T, which is the last letter used on
the plates. The reason for this is that the
plate was arranged with twelve horizontal
and twenty vertical rows of dies, making
240 in all. The top row began AA, AB,
AC, and so on, to AL. The second was BA,
BB, etc. (the governing letters being found
in the lower corners of the stamp, and re-
versed in the upper corners). The reader
will see that as the plate was only twelve
dies wide, the double letter could occur only
twelve times, and hence finished with L.

* * * *

The design of the New Queensland stamps
consists in leaving out the shaded background
between the portrait-bust and the oval
frame. These were issued on February 28th.
But during the preceding month some com-
plications occurred in the government print-
ing office, with results of much interest to
collectors. The ordinary paper, water-
marked Q and Crown, having run out, a
thick fiscal paper, with a very large Q and
Crown mark, was temporarily used for the
1d. and 2d. issues, 1,200,000 of each being
printed. These were in use only twenty-
three days, when that paper also was ex-
hausted, so far as the 1d. was concerned,
and 300,000 penny stamps were printed on a
paper witha blue band of fine net-work
running across the back of each stamp.
These were on sale February 19th to 28th,
and will, no doubt, be rare. There is an
error on the second stamp from the right-
hand corner of the plate, which was re-
peated on 190 sheets before discovery. Some-
thing stuck over the letters pe, so that these
190 stamps bear the legend ‘‘One nny.’’ It
may be imagined what a price these will run
to in the furious competition of rich collec-
tors!

* * *

If you want to obtain any information in
regard to stamps, don’t hesitate to write to
this department. We shall always be glad to
answer questions to the best of our ability.

—___~+-0-» —___—
A MECHA NICAL HORROR,

Perhaps the strangest of all clocks is to be
found in India, being one in possession of a
Hindoo prince. Near the dial of an oidinary-
looking clock is a large gong on poles, while
underneath, scattered upon the ground, is a
pile of artificial human skulls, ribs, legs and
arms, the whole number of bones in the pile
being equal to the number of bones in
twelve human skeletons.

When the hands of the clock indicate the
hour of one, the number of bones needed to
form a complete human skeleton come to-
gether with a snap, by some mechanical
contrivance the skeleton springs up, seizes a
mallet, and, walking up to the gong, strikes
one blow. This finished, it returns to the
pile and again falls to pieces.

When two o’clock comes, two skeletons get
up and strike, while at the hours of noon
and midnight the entire heap springs up in
the shape of twelve skeletons, and strikes,
gach one after the other, a blow on the
gong, and then falls to pieces as before,

—___-_ + -e-~»- —__—.
Tuer letter ‘‘I’’ in the Chinese language

 

E -Centavo green, 2-centavo carmine, and
®utavo brown have a similar design, pre-

  

has 145 ways of being pronounced, and each
pronuhciation has a different meaning.

carmine-red, and 10-peso |

NEwsS.

4413

 

(This Story Will Not be Published in Book-Form.] |

SLACK-WIRE ZIP:

The Ups and Downs of an Acrobat.

fence esse

BY VICTOR ST. CLATR,
Author of “Little Hickory of the Mountain Express,”
“Zig-Zag, the Boy Conjurer,” “The Young
Stone-Cutter.’’ etc,

(“SLACK-WIRE ZIP” was commenced in No. 267.
Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.)

 

CHAPTER XXXII.
HONEYCOMB AGAIN!

S amass of debris fell about their
heads, Zip and Mr. Wilder felt the
floor yield, and they were sent head-
long into the dark depths below.
Stunned by the fall, a blinding darkness
seemed to settle over the scene.

The rain began to fall in torrents, while
the wind hurled its furious legions against
the ruined house, as if it would tear it from
its very. foundation.

How long the old showman and his young
companion lay there in the darkness neither
had any way of knowing. Zip was the first
to recover from the shock, and starting up
to a sitting posture, he found that he was
half-buried by the debris which had fallen
around and over him. He knew by the
sounds that it was still raining hard. Un-
able to see anything for the gloom of the
place, he called aloud Mr. Wilder’s name.
To his delight, the cheery answer came:

‘*Here, my boy, safe and sound. Are you
hurt?’’

‘‘T think not, though I cannot well move
for the litter which has fallen over me,
What has happened?’’

‘‘{ think the old house must have been
struck by lightning. It isa wonder it es-
caped fire. Perhaps the rain put that out.
Let’s see if we can get out of this fix.’’

Not without considerable difficulty did the
two succeed in regaining the wreck of the
floor they had occupied at the moment of
the lightning’s bolt.

‘‘See!’? exclaimed Mr. Wilder, pointing
toward the chimney, which had been torn
into at a frightful rate; ‘‘it struck—he was
killed !”’

Zip had already discovered the body of
the mysterious stranger lying prone on the
floor where he had been stricken. His
clothing had been nearly torn from his
back, every exposed part of his body look-
ing black and ghastly.

‘*Who could he have been?’’ asked the
showman, more of himself than of his com-
panion, as he bent over the disfigured re-
mains, ‘‘I see nothing to identify him. Ha!
what is this?’’ picking up the object that
the man had taken from the closet, and
which, strangely enough, had escaped muti-
lation.

It was an old-fashioned daguerreotype case,
and opening it, Mr. Wilder gazed on the
likeness of a young and rather good-looking
man.

‘*Why, it’s Marvel, as he must have looked
fifteen or twenty years ago!’’ he exclaimed,
with great wonder.

Zip saw there could be little or no doubt
of the statement.

‘*T don’t understand it. And I would give
considerable to know who this man was. He
was somehow familiar with my past life,
for he knew my rightful name, which I
have not used since that unfortunate day I
saw Oscar Auckland meet his fate. I don’t
understand it at all.’’

‘*How do you explain that picture on the
glass?’’ asked Zip, who was the more inter-
ested in it, because it bore the likeness of
Little Fairy.

‘*Let’s go back to the room and see if we
can learn anything of the mystery.’’

The apartment designated had escaped the
lightning’s bolt, so there was no change in
its appearance. But they looked in vain for
an explanation of the picture on the pane.

‘‘Tam afraid we shall never solve the
riddle,’’ said Mr. Wilder. ‘‘If the scene was
true to life it affords food for intense
thought. I never saw Oscar Auckland’s
wife, but the man was Johnson Jewett, and
I am of the belief he killed Mrs. Auck-
land.’?

‘<The child Iam sure was Little Fairy.’

‘*Yes; she must be Oscar’s child. hat
brings a startling solution to the mystery of
Jewett’s possession of the girl. He doubtless
hopes through her to get possession of the
property.’’

‘*In that case he will be back here some
time.”’

‘Perhaps so. But we must get back to
the village with all haste possible. I believe
the rain is almost.over. I wonder how we
shall find the horse? This has been an event-
ful afternoon.”’

The two spent afew minutes longer in
looking the old house over, without finding
anything to interest them, when Mr. Wilder
again said that they must start on their re-
turn to the circus.

 

‘*Why, the horse!’’ cried Mr. Wilder, with
a look of alarm. ‘‘I left him under that
tree, but he’s gone!”’ 7

Before Zip could reply, the hoof-strokes of
a horse came from an old, dilapidated shed
at the rear of the house, so they started in
that direction, thinking the animal had
broken from its fastening and sought the
shelter of the building during the rain.

They had barely turned the corner of the
house, when Zip, who was slightly in ad-
vance, saw the team and some one in the
act of springing into the wagon.

He was about to call the attention of Mr.
Wilder to the fact, when he saw with un-
bounded amazement that the would-be thief
was none other than Honeycomb!

The old showman discovered the robber at
that moment, while Jewett looked up at
them with terror depicted on his features.

He had already picked up the reins, and
snatching the whip from its socket, he dealt
the horse a furious blow that caused the
spirited creature to dash swiftly away.

‘*Stop him! head him off!’’ yelled Mr.
Wilder, rushing forward in a vain endeavor
to intercept the escaping wretch.

More light of foot, Zip outdistanced his
companion, actually succeeding in getting
within range of the long whip in the desper-
ate Jewett’s hand.

‘*Take that!’’ shouted the villain, exul-
tantly; ‘‘and when you catch me you may
have another.’’

Johnson Jewett had mistaken the mettle
of his pursuer.

With all the fleetness of foot of which he
was capable, Zip ran after the fugitive,
barely missing the horse’s head as the mad-
dened brute was urged out of the yard.

Seeing that he could not stop the other’s
flight, Zip suddenly resolved upon a hazard-
ous act, without stopping to count the cost.

Leaping into the air with that wonderful
agility so natural to him, he cleared the
intervening space at one prodigious bound,
to alight squarely upon his feet in the hind
end of the wagon!

CHAPTER XXXIiI.
A RECKLESS ENCOUNTER.

  

EFORE the surprised Jewett could

turn to beat him off, Zip had seized
bo) him by the throat with one hand and
; the collar of his coat with the other,
to throw his whole strength into an effort
to pull the other back over the seat.

The wagon was hurled around the corner
with a rapidity and abruptness which fairly
lifted the wheels of one side into the air.
But regardless of the recklessness of the gait
ot the plunging horse, Zip held his victim
with such force that the latter was borne
backward over the seat, while he shouted
from pain and fright, clutching madly at
the boy acrobat’s body all the time.

‘‘Hold on a minute!’’ cried Mr. Wilder,
rushing toward the exciting scene as fast as
he could.

In the midst of the struggle between the
occupants of the wagon, the herse, now left
to follow its own inclinations, reached the
road, when it bolted homeward with re-
doubled speed.

Jewett was a strong man, and aroused by
his desperate situation, he fought fiercely to
break from Zip’s hold, and succeeded in his
purpose so far as to free himself from the
grasp upon his collar. Then, with a mighty
wrench, he fairly lifted our hero from his
feet as he regained an upright position.

‘‘Let go! or I’ll kill you!”’ cried the furi-
ous man.

At that moment the wagon again gave a
fearful lurch, and for an instant it seemed
it would upset, the horse all the time sweep-
ing on at its wild gait.

ip felt himself flung forward over one of
the wheels, and finding that he could not
save himself from a‘ fall, he gathered his
strength for a leap into the gutter by the
roadside.

At the same time Jewett was hurled upon
the wagon dasher, and as Zip picked himself
up on the ground he saw the fugitive cling-
ing to the forward part of the vehicle for
dear life.

He had barely time to gain his feet before
the runaway horse with its burden disap-
peared around a turn in the road, though
the clatter of the wagon wheels was to be
heard until Mr. Wilder reached Zip’s side.

‘*So he got away after all,’’ greeted the
showman. ‘‘Well, by Holland! you are a
plucky one. But you took a big risk that
time, and it’s almost a miracle you escaped
with your lie.’’

‘‘We must follow him!’’ cried Zip. ‘‘We
must not let him get away !’’

‘‘T am afraid we can’t help it,’? said Mr.
Wilder, as he followed our hero at the top of
his speed, though unable to keep in sight of
him long.

Of course Zip could not expect to overtake
the team, still he hoped in some way to
frustrate Jewett’s escape. He felt more
hopeful in that respect from the fact that
the fugitive was considerably under the in-
fluence of liquor, as he was often, and there
was an even chance that he would get
thrown from the wagon.

He was not very much surprised then,

  
 

It had now stopped raining almost entirely, : after he had gone half a mile, to discover

 

and they passed out of the ruined dwelling the wagon seat by the roadside.

with something like a breath of relief.

He stopped long enough to make sure there

 

a

 

 
 

 

GooD

 

was no indication of his enemy being about
the spot, when he resumed his pursuit with
renewed courage.

Once or twice he fancied he heard the
clatter of the vehicle in the distance, but he
failed to catch a glimpse of the runaway.

By the time he had reached the old Jewett
place he felt like resting, and giving up the
hope of overtaking the fugitive, he stopped
at the ruined hotyse for Mr. Wilder to come
along, which he did a few minutes later,
puffing and blowing like a porpoise.

‘‘?Tan’t any use, ny boy; he’s bound to
get away. All we can do is to put on to the
stable and report the rascal. The idea! steal
a team in broad daylight like that. It’s
Honeycomb clear through.’’

Upon reaching the stable at the village
where they had hired the horse, they were
somewhat surprised to find the animal al-
ready there and cared for, while its owner
was raving like a madman over the affair.

It was soon learned that the horse had
come in without any driver, and the search
that followed failed to show any trace of the
missing Johnson Jewett.

Again he had disappeared as if the earth
had swallowed him up.

The body of the unknown man was found
at the old Auckland house, and given into
the hands of the proper authorities, which
upon investigation, declared that he had
met his death from the balt of lightning.
Mr. Wilder’s fifty dollars were returned to
him, and the stranger buried at the expense
of the town. Fora day his untimely fate
and unsolved identity became the all-absorb-
ing theme for town gossip, and then he was
forgotten by all, save Zip and Mr. Wilder.

They speculated often in regard to him
without coming to any solution of the mys-
tery. They said nothing to any one of the
picture on the window-pane, nor did they
learn anything of the existence of Jewett.

Thus the balance of the season passed in a
most uneventful way, and the company dis
solved with the best of spirits. The different
members went their respective ways, some
to homes where loved ones were awaiting
them, others to spend their hard-earned
money in a few weeks; the animals were
taken to their winter quarters and placed
under charge of proper keepers, until an-
other year should call the men and women
to scenes of action again, and the dumb
creatures to be exhibited.

Zip found himself the possessor of a snug
little sum of money, and he could not help
thinking how different his fortune had been
since the eventful afternoon he had so un-
ceremoniously taken his leave of Simon
Legro, the keeper of the town poor
of Gebig. But if in possession of more
money than he had ever seen before, he had
a very restless mind. Often he thought of
Little Fairy, and wondered what fate had
befallen her. Where was she all this time?

CHAPTER XXXIV.

THE DOUBTFUL MESSENGER.
7 TELL yer, mister, the bridge won’t
4 hold that big critter.’’

The speaker, a tow-headed, freckle-
SS faced boy of fifteen or sixteen, had
suddenly sprung from the shady side of the
weather-bvaten bridge spanning the noisy
waters of Rocky River, and not less by his
frantic manner, than by his warning words
had brought the Wilder & Huntington’s Cir-
, cusand Menagerie to an abrupt stop.

The time was nearly a year later than
when we last parted with Slack-Wire Zip,
and another season was nearing its close—a
season of almost uninterrupted prosperity.

As will be understood by the company’s
name, Mr. Wilder had joined his fortunes
with a new partner, who possessed both an
exceedingly irascible disposition and acute
judgment as a showman. Though most dis-
agreeable to deal with, he contributed
largely to the company’s success,

Slack-Wire Zip, Maryel, Coldstream, and
Van Ness had all gladly signed with the new
combination, and never regretted their
choice,

The caravan had been pursuing a lonely
country road for several miles when thus
unexpectedly stopped by this unpromising-
looking boy.

As was his custom, Mr. Wilder had gone
ahead to see that the grounds were in readi-
ness for them to pitch their tents at the
next town, and Mr. Huntington had charge
of the train.

Seeing that something was wrong at the
front, he rode ahead to demand the cause of
the delay.

‘*That boy there says the bridge an’t safe
crossing,’’ replied the foremost driver,
whose van contained the monkeys, apes and
a huge baboon,

‘‘What has he got to do with your orders
to keep on??? cried Mr. Huntington, sharply.
‘**T tell you to. go ahead.’’

‘*T tell yer the bridge won’t hold one end
of that big critter!’’ repeated the excited
boy, pointing toward the solitary elephant,
then clipping the bushes by the wayside as
unconcerned as any elephant might be.

The sun was beginning to look over the
distant hills, so it was light enough for
them to note their surroundings. The bridge
was evidently an old affair, but Mr. Hunt-
ington did not like to be told even the truth
by this unprepossessing stranger, and he

 

showed it in his manner as well as by his
words,

‘*Let the old thing break if it wants to; I
reckon it would only make a bill for this
forsaken town to pay, though we might
have to take it all to get square.’’

‘*This town don’t build bridges to hold up
elerfents!’’ exclaimed the imperturbable
boy, still standing his ground. ‘Better try
the bridge easy fust.’’

‘‘Drive right over him!’’ shouted Mr.
Huntington. ‘‘We haven’t got no time to
fool away on every country lout we run
across.’’

‘*T an’t a country lout!’’ screamed the
boy, scraping up a handful of gravel stones
from the road as he spoke; and, threatening
to throw them at the showman, continued:

‘“Take ’em nasty words back! Goin’ to???

Huntington laughed, and repeated his
command for the train to move on. But
the order had barely left his lips before a
cloud of gravel stones, thrown with unerring
precision, fell about his head and shoulders,
some of them cutting smartly into his flesh.

With an exclamation of rage, the showman
started toward the audacious youth, who
turned and fled over the bridge with a
taunting laugh.

The next monient the caravan resumed its
advance, the forward vehicles passing safely
over the wooden bridge, though it shook in
a most threatening manner beneath the
weight.

‘*Catch that imp of darkness, some of you,
and I'll lick him within an inch of his life!’’
thundered Mr. Huntington, putting his hand
to his lacerated cheek, and fuming like a
madman.

‘*‘T am afraid the boy was right about this
bridge,’’ said the elephant’s keeper. ‘‘I
scurcely durst let Old Orient puta foot on
Gite

‘*Who is running this show?’’ shrieked the
manager. ‘‘Not you, nor that condemned
freckle-face yonder. Get across, lively !’’

Zip and Marvel were riding in the third
wagon to cross, and they were about mid-
way on the doubtful structure when the
elephant stepped upon the end they had just
left.

The next moment the whole affair was
shaking so that the tight-rope walker ex-
claimed:

‘*The boy was right in——”’

His words were drowned by the crash of
breaking wood and the wild cries of the
terrified elephant.

‘*The bridge is going !’’ cried Zip.

CHAPTER XXXV,

A REMARKABLE FAMILY—TROUBLE IN THE
CAMP,

HE driver of the van whipped up the

- horse in a frantic manner, whereupon

the aroused animal dashed madly

ahead, while the fearful sounds be-
hind grew more terrific, and the whole
bridge swayed and reeled over the waters of
Rocky River.

Above the tumult could be heard the voice
of Mr. Huntington giving out orders he
could not have understood himself.

Meanwhile Old Oriant, the cause and the
victim of the disaster, behaved the most
sensibly of any among the train, for finding
that he was breaking through the floor, the
intelligent creature threw out its trunk,
catching at one of the stoutest posts, drop-
ping at the same time flat upon the plank-
ing.

This last act, more than anything else,
saved the elephant from falling through.
As the rocky bed of the stream was at least
twenty-five feet below, a tumble to the bot-
tom must have been a serious affair.

Mr. Huntington, however, had very slight
conception of anything, as he rushed for-
ward, shouting:

‘*Get him up!
through.’’

‘*Stop your noise!’’ exclaimed Robbins,
the keeper. ‘‘ Let every one hold his tongue,
for the more is said the worse he will act.
Lie still, Old Orient, and we'll get you
safely out of this.’?

‘*What can we do?’’ asked Huntington,
beginning to grow calmer.

‘‘Some planks and timbers must be pro-
cured as soon as possible. In the meantime
I will see if I can keep him quiet.’?

‘¢l think we can get what we shall need
by tearing up this side of the bridge,’’ said
Marvel. ‘‘It cannot make the matter much
worse here.’’

The hands turning to the assistance, in
the course of an hour the elephant was res-
cued from its uncomfortable and dangerous
position.

‘‘Where’s that boy gone?’’ demanded
Huntington, as soon as everything had been
straightened out so the train started on a
backward track, to find another way to
Linenton.

‘Here I be, mister; what do yer want of
me??? said the shrill voice of the imperturb-
able boy.

Huntington had it upon his lips to say
something harsh to the young vagabond,
but instead, at sight of his defiant attitude,
he asked;

‘*Who in Satan are you?’’

**T’m a Pekin.”’

‘*A what??? cried the showman, turning
red in the face.

Get him up before he falls

 

NEWS.

 

‘*A Pekin, I said. I reckon I’m ’spectable
as you air, mister. We show.’’

‘*You’ll quit your peeking mighty lively,
or I'll horsewhip you.’?

‘‘1’l) bet I can outrun yer, mister. Goin’
to show in Linenton?’’

‘*That’s none of your business.’’

‘*T know yer be, so 'tan’t enny use to lie.
We show in Linenton, too. Dad said I’d
better stop and tell yer ’bout the bridge.
Guess yer wished yer minded me now,
Mebbe yer’ll give me a ride fer tryin’ to
tell yer ’bout the bridge?”’

‘*To Gibraltar with you and all like you.’’

The train was now well under way, and
seeing that he was not likely to get a ride
with any of the wagons belonging to this
part, the strange boy crossed over the
wrecked bridge, where he overtook those
vans which had succeeded in getting over
before the elephant’s fall.

‘‘Gin me a ride, misters?’’ he asked, of
Marvel and Zip. ‘‘The old gent’s mighty
crusty, but yer look ’bout fair. I tried to
do yer a good turn ennyway.’’

Our friends quickly invited him to ride on
the seat beside them, when he became very
talkative, soon making known the fact that
he belonged to a family of show people
known as the Pekin Family.

This party consisted of Professor Armor-
off, of the Iron Thoat, the unrivalled sword
swallower; Mrs. Armoroff, the bearded
lady; the United Twin Sisters, and the
learned hog. In a fit of poorly appreciated
confidence the speaker volunteered the as-
tonishing information that he was the
learned hog!

‘*T tell yer I jess fetch down the house.
I can grunt so the best on ’em an’t found
me out, Come round and see us to-night.
I’ll get yer both in fer nothin’. Come?’’

If Zip had promised to do this he would
have seen no ‘‘show,’’ for the very fact that
the Pekin Family failed to have a single
patron. Finding that the menagerie was
going to draw all of the patronage of Linen-
ton, the head of the Pekin Family, with his
hopeful son, otherwise the learned hog,
otherwise Dim Pekin, called ‘around at
Wilder & Huntington’s tent a few minutes
before the performance opened.

Mr. Pekin was a tall, lank person, with a
shock of yellow whiskers and sallow coun-
tenance. He introduced himself to Mr,
Wilder as ‘'Professor Armoroff, of the Iron
Throat,’’ adding:

‘“‘Thought mebbe yer’d like a leetle help,
seein’ es yer purty well traded by yer pup-
ple. Sell tickets if yer say so. Don’t? Dim,
th’ boy thar, is powerful quick handling
change, He, an’ a chap calling hisself
Honeycomb, got a bet las’ month es to who
could sell th’ mos’ pasteboards. Dim beat
shucks out’n him. Say, got standin’ room
inside fer one 0’ the perfes?’’

Before Mr. Wilder could reply the voice
of Zip reached the ears of all, saying:

‘*Hold on, Dim Pekin! I have got you
fast. Give me that picture! Help! the
ticket-wagon is being robbed!’

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

—_—_—__~>--+. —__—_.

A STARTLING INCIDENT.

-@ momep

BY R, E, FARR.

——+——_—

G ARRY! Harry! stop! stop! For
die] goodness’ sake, stop! Do not go any
A, . higher !’’ vigorously shouted a tall

youth, to a boy some years younger,
who was lightly and deftly scaling the
rugged rocks on the edge of a precipitous
overhanging cliff, fully one hundred feet
above the rolling waves of the Atlantic
Ocean.

‘‘Harry! Harry! do you not hear me? If
forgive you all and everything, but do stop
—for merey’s sake, stop! You can’t get
down if you go higher.’’

Unheeding his brother’s frantic warning
shouts, the intrepid boy climbed higher, still
higher, gaining at length a small uneven
ledge of rock, about three feet -square;
whereon he stayed his perilous ascent, and
halted to gaze defiantly down on his more
cautious brother.

Harry Austin, a bold, daring young
scamp, had that morning openly defied his
elder brother, refusing to comply with some
trivial request. Irritated aad annoyed at
the boy’s mocking, refractory spirit, Charles
Austin had threatened personal chastisement
of the defiant boy; and on their both leaving
the s@hool they daily attended, had followed
the child down to the sea-shore, with the
intention of lightly punishing the offender.

For some time Harry nimbly and cleverly
eluded his pursuer, At length, finding
Charley gaining ground in the pursuit, from
rock to rock he flew, from crag to crag he
jumped, and higher, yet higher mounted the
daring boy—in his eager haste to outdistance
his brother, attempting what in cooler mo-
ments the boy would have known to be
dangerous to life and limb, Exhausted, and
out of breath, he at length took time to look
around, and suddenly and fearfully realized
the frightful position he had attained.

In agony Charles now watched his brother.
So great was his danger, so fearful the
height he had reached, the poor fellow
feared even to shout to him, lest the sudden
sound might startle the child, and make him

*.

 

lose his balance on the tiny platform, which
only rested between him and eternity; one
false step, a backward movement even, and
the young, bright life must be quenched for-
ever, the youthful limbs shattered on the
jutting crags, finally to be engulfed in the
deep abyss below.

‘*What can I do? what can I do?’’ groaned
the elder boy. ‘‘I never thought he could be
so wild, so mad, to attempt such a climb as
that.’’

Cold drops of moisture stood upon the
poor lad’s brow, feeling that indirectly he
himself had been the cause of the boy’s rash
exploit. Shaking with anxiety and fear, he
called to the child, first gently, then in
louder tones:

‘‘Harry, stand still! stand still! Do not
move an inch! | will go for father; he will
know best what to do,’’

And off rushed Charley to the village
near by, in the hope of finding his father at
home, trusting to him to devise some means
of rescue for the intrepid child,

In this village for many years had lived
the Austin family. Mr. Austin, the
father of Charley and Harry, was a stern,
severe-mannered man, but possessing -a
warm and affectionate heart beneath his
rugged exterior; a man devoted to his wife
and children, but his strict discipline making
the latter stand somewhat in awe of one
parent, while devotedly clinging toa mild
and fondly affectionate mother.

Little Harry, just eight years of age, a
bright, laughter-loving lad, though far more
frequently in disgrace than his brothers,
was still the pet and darling of the band.

A generous, open-hearted little fellow, his
faults, the faults of fun and daring rather
than wickedness and wrong-doing, this very
spirit of daring now placing him in such
imminent peril.

Away rushed Charley homeward, flying
through the village at headlong speed. Near-
ing his home, he slightly slackened his
pace, the thought even then of alarming
‘dear mother’’ occurring to the thoughtful
son.

‘*Heigh! Charley, what’s the row?’’ ex-
claimed Fred, another brother, as Charley
came nearly full tilt against him at the en-
trance of the cottage.

‘*Father, where is he?’’ gasped the breath-
less boy.

‘*My goodness! what’s the matter? Some-
thing new to want father, eh? What’s put
you in such a fluster?’’

‘*Don’t, Fred; don’t, Harry, little Harry.
Oh, dear!’’ and he leaned for a moment ex-
hausted against the garden gate.

Changed in a second was Fred,
banter to intense anxiety.

‘*What is it, Charley? Speak, I will go to
father.’’

‘Tell him, quick, quick; Harry is on top
of the Bittern Rock, in awful danger.’’

Like an arrow flew Fred, to fetch John
Austin; and in the meantime the inmates
of the cottage had spied Charley from the
windows, and he was hastily surrounded by
the whole household, and besieged with
questions as to his scared manner and ap-
pearance. As he strove to parry their in-
quiries, the father’s stern, hurried demand
for particulars revealed the tale, and a fear-
ful, anxious group rushed frantically down
to the sea-shore.

Mr. Austin grasped the emergency of the
case, the means necessary for rescue, al
the child’s awful danger at a glance. The
tiny feet had scaled ridges unapproachable
by heavier weights—ridges barely practicable
for the child to ascend, totally impracticable
to descend, so steep, so perpendicular—im-
possible for the boy to gain a sufficiently
firm footing without every chance of slip-
ping down, down—to be caught and _ tosse
by a dozen peak crags; and finally hurled
into the rolling, advancing tide.

Above the child, a rock jutted far ove!
his head—a rock he could no farther asceD
—arock no human being could descend t?
the child’s aid.

The poor boy now perceptibly realized his
danger, his white, scared face gazing on
peering crowd below, his little hands e*
tended as if mutely imploring help, and 4P”
parently shouting aloud; but as sound a
cends, so no sound of his small voice reaché
the listeners’ below. ;

The village fishermen noting the hurrying
movements of the well-known group, quic#*
joined the party, eagerly volunteering 9°
sistance.

‘*A rope, a rope et the top,’’ cried one. |

‘*No use, no use,’’? muttered Mr. Austin’
‘‘the rock above juts too far out; he could 20
reach it; and did he try to, he must ov
balance himself, and——’’

He did not finish the sentence.

Silently for a few seconds the fa
watched his child, then quickly and
cisively turned to the waiting boys. t

‘‘Rred, go for my speaking-trumpe ;
Charley, fetch my gun,’’ med

Then turning ‘to two stalwart fisher™
standing near: g-

‘‘Palmer, Stephens, a boat at once—alone
side here, beneath that rock. Quick, vay
God’s sake, men; the child may grow 8!
and roll over down the rock.’’ ext

Oh! the wild, fearfu: suspense of the ?

from

ther

; jous
ten minutes! Will ever one of those atx ho"

spectators forget the sensation of
ment—the tide coming in with *®
monotonous roll, and a sea-gull wingiDs

th steady»

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7 i . SERRE = - oss — oe = us a oe ee, eee aS ator at me PRE 97 OLS
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course from point to point with weird cry, ‘*But, Harry, how dare you jump?’’ | J. J. M., Fall River, Mass.—1. There are no pre-| All joining before Aug. 17th, will be admitted for
. |

adding to the intense dreariness of the
scene; and the sound of a morsel of crum-
bling stone falling from the spot whereon
the child stood, and bounding along from
rock to rock and down the steep incline,
striking like electric shocks to the hearts of
the silent, awe-stricken, listening throng?

In silence Fred handed his father the
trumpet; in silence Charley brought the
loaded gun. Raising the tube to his lips:

‘*Harry,’’ shouted Austin, ‘‘I cannot hear
you speak; can you hear me? If so, bend
your head.’’ The child did so.

‘¢*Do you see water or rock below you? If
rock, bend your head; if water, wave your
hand.’’

The little hand waved.

‘*Do you see the boat out at sea?’’

The boy nodded.

‘*You capnot climb up or down, and I
cannot come to you.’’

Again the boy bent his head.

Austin next shouted to the two fishermen,

who by this time had arrived close off the |

shore in a small boat.

‘‘Palmer, Stephens, we can do nothing!
The boy must jump into the sea; it is his
only chance of life. Look out, my men;
keep the boat a little more off, and do your
best to save the child.’’

Then, like a moving statue, he turned to
the waiting lad. .

‘*Harry,’’ he shouted, ‘‘stand upright !”’

The boy stood erect.

‘‘Now I shall count, one, two, three;
when I say three, you must give a big jump,
right out to sea.’’

The boy shook his head.

‘*‘My boy, you must; you must, or you
will die!’

Again the child shook his head.

Austin turned to the agonized mother,
standing near in speechless anguish, watch-
ing the scene, and for an instant the strong
man’s voice quivered as he addressed his
wife:

‘*Mother, a white bandkerchief.’’

Without a word, one was handed to him,
and he again turned to his little son. It
could be seen that the child was intently
watching his father’s movements.

For an instant Austin hesitated, then, ad-
vancing to Charley, took from-him the
loaded gun, examined it carefully, and
silently returned it. Resuming the speaking-
trumpet, in clear, ringing tones he shouted:

‘‘Harry, do you see I have my gun? It is
loaded.’’

Then holding aloft the handkerchief.

‘*Do you see this handkerchief? Do you

see it clearly?’’

The boy once more bowed his head.

‘*When I let it fall,jump! jump far out, for
your life, or I fire! Do you hear me?’’

Again the little face bent forward.

In breathless silence stood the assembled
crowd. With a white, set face, John Austin
again took the gun, and steadily raised it to
his shoulder, the handkerchief in his left
hand.

The agony of that moment to all, who can
imagine? One instant and the white signal
fluttered to the ground. For a second the
boy did not move. At once came the loud,
ringing report of the gun, echoing far and
hear, the white smoke curling up and around
the group on thé sea-shore. Instantaneously
a little figure, like a huge bird, shot like a
rocket from the Bittern Rock, cleaving the
air bétween crag and sea.

A huge splash in the salt waves—a circling
Whirlpool in the waters—then no sign of any
living object. A black speck on the surface—
& sudden plunge of a strong-built figure into
the deep water—and the said figure, with
bold strokes, is breasting the waves toward
the floating speck.

‘*He has him, he has him! thank God!’’
and the overwrought father sank powerless
and exhausted on the sand.

Yes, the quick, active fisherman had
Speedily secured the little child, and with
One hand retaining fast hold of the boy’s
Clothes, with the other he quickly gained
the boat, and, with his comrade’s assistance,
™m marvelously short time the apparently
ifeless child was borne to his parents’
arms. Not lifeless, oh, joy to the anxious,
®xpectant throng! Thanks to the child’s
ight weight, and the buoyancy of the salt
Sea-waves, the little one’s life was not en-
tirely crushed out.

Long he lay in a death-like stupor; but
by slow degrees came back the breath of
Ife, and little Harry once more opened his
®yes upoh the world around him, and
Ovingly watched and tended for a few
Weeks, he gradually regained health, though
Never again the hardy strength with which

® had heretofore fought and wrestled with
1s elder brothers.

For months the little fellow was the hero
SF the country for miles around, and the
Tock from which the boy leaped pointed out
to all new-comers. The brothers tacitly
88reed to dismiss the painful subject; not so

arry’s less sensitive school companions.

‘‘Harry, tell me how did you feel up

ere??? inquired one.

The child turned pale. and shuddered,
®ven then, weeks after the event, at the

Ought of his peril.

I ‘I thought I must stay thefe always, and

hought the big birds would come and

eck me, and I thought I should never see
Mother any more.”’

 

‘*T knew father would shoot; he always
does what he says, you know, when he
speaks firm like that. I thought he meant
to kill me right off, there, at once. I was
afraid to be shot, and so, and so——’’

Again the boy shuddered, his voice falling
to a tremulous whisper, and the sentence
was never finished. Recovering himself
quickly, he rushed away to join some other
companions, to drown the memory of that
awful moment, in a merry game of play.

—~>—+<>____—_
fail Ba
Our Mail bag.
ceentaans On subjects of general interest oul

pee Sy
dealt with in the “Mail Bag.’ Medical or
questions not answered. Goop NEws goes to press
two weeks in advance of date of publication, aud there-
fore answers cannot appear until two or three weeks
after we receive them. Comumunications intended for
this column should be addressed Goop NEws “Mail
Bag,” P. O. Box 2734, New York City.)

are

N. M. H., Rye, N. Y.—An experiment which may
be performed by any one riding a bicycle is the deter-
mination of the horse-power of the rider, by a simple
calculation after the ascent ofa hill. The mechanical
equivalent of a horse-power, being 33,000 pounds
raised through a distance of one foot in a minute, may
be directly applied toa machine and itsrider. The
only requirement is astop-watch. ‘The hill should be
steep enough to prevent one from ascending with any
great velocity, and thus have the wind resistance
vitiate the result.
and rider being almost always known and the time
readily taken, the altitude of the hill can be found by
a level and staff. It will be seen that the length of the
hill does not matter, so long as the incline is steep
enough to prevent fast riding when the whole energy
of the man is expended in propelling him up the
grade. The figures found, when compared with the
ones above, give the horse-power in a pretty accurate
way.

J. C., Glenville, Ohio.—1. We should say that you
were very well proportioned, although you are much
larger than most boys of fourteen, 2. Max Adeler,
Lieut. James K. Orton, J. Gibson Perry, Emerson
Bell, Arthur M. Winfield, Harvey Hicks, and Joseph
E. Badger. 3. We do not know his age. He lives in
Philadelphia. 4. Yes, Harry Dangerfield is now at
work on another story. He writes exclusively for
Goop News. 5. We shall have what you desire some
time in August. 6. Walden F.Sharp has written for
Goop News ‘For His Honor’s Sake,’ and ‘Glim
Peters.” 7. Your spelling and punctuation are both
very good. You can improve you writing. 8. The
five centesimi piege is worth about one cent.

Don Kirk and Tem Pruxton, St. Louis, Mo.—1. San-
dow is probably the strongest man in the world.
2. No. 3. Yes. Harry Dangerfield is now at work on
a story for us, giving the further adventures of Don
Kirk. Mr. Dangerfield writes exclusively for Goon
News. 4. We may possibly have a story of adven-
ture in Australia, 5, The best running high jump was
made by M. F. Sweeny, 6 feet 414 inches. 6. Wecan
find no record of diving performances. 7.
age height of a boy of 17 is 5 feet 2 inches, and average
weight 100 pounds,

Gen. Coxey, New York city.—1. We do not intend
to have stories by the authors mentioned at present.
2. William Nash is the captain of the Bostons, 3. No,
you could not learn to swim by reading books on the
subject, although you might receive hints that would
help you. Practice is the only way tolearn. 4, See
answer to Slack-Wire Zip. 5. Thereisa base-ball
match in ‘‘Boats, Batsand Bicycles.” 6. Both ‘‘Boats,
Bats and Bicycles” and ‘The Rival Canoe Boys” are
camping-out stories.

S. D. T., Bradford, Pa.—1. The average height of a
boy of 14is 4 feet9 inches, and the average weight
70 pounds, 2. Lake Chautauqua is 1,291 feet above
tide-water, and 726 feet above Lake Erie. 3. Weare
not quite sure, but think itis. 4. Thereisno premium
on the dime of 1854. 5. December 22, 1881, fell on
Thursday. 6. The fastest mile was made by Salvator
at Monmouth Park, N. J., August 28, 1890. The time
was 1 minute 35!4 seconds.

H. P. C., Benning, D. C.—1. Iron the paper witha
moderately warm flat-iron to get out the creases,
2. We consider boxing both a healthy exercise, and a
useful accomplishment. 3. Lieut. Lounsberry is now
writing a new story for us. He says thathe considers
it the best he has yet done. 4. We are glad that you
consider Goop News “indeed the King of Boys’
Weeklies with no one to dispute the throne.”

David Cummidge, San Francisco, Cal.—1, The num-
bers of the New York five-cent library will cost you
five cents a piece. 2. ‘‘Reckless Roll’ is the story of
a boy ranger, and is full of adventures with Indians.
8. It would cost you about $1.50 to have the numbers
bound as you wish, 4. ‘On Land and Sea’ appeared
in Vol. 1 of Goop NEws.

Sailor, Erie, Pa.—The ‘‘dog-watch”’ is an expression
common among sailors, alluding to the division of the
“watch” between four and eight o’clock p. mM. The
watch is divided into two ‘‘dog-watches,” each of two
hours. Itis commonly said that the expression is
derived from the idea ofa dog sleeping with one eye
open.

A, C. W., Mobile, Ala.—The Column Vendome was
commenced in 1806, pulled down by the Communists
in 1871, and has since been re-erected on its old site.
It shows in its decorative bas-reliefs the victories
gained by -Napoleon over the Russians and Austrians
during the campaigns of 1805.

Slack- Wire Zip, Middletown Spa, Vt.—1. We do not
think it advisable. 2. We believe Buffalo Bill’s fam-
ily consists of one daughter. 3. Send for catalogue.
4. We may have another story by Joseph E. Badger,

Jr. 5. Wewill consider. your suggestion, Be Kes,
7. Yea, -§...NO,

W. O. #., Sacramento, Cal.—l. There is no pre-
mium on the half dollar of 1824. 2. We know nothing
of the book you mention. 3. With your height, which
is above the average, you should weigh about 125
pounds, 4. Your handwriting is very good.

Pat, no address,--1. We know of no method to sink
aboat, in order to conceal it. Sucha practice would
probably ruin your boat. 2. No, of course there is no
such a machine as that described in “A Simple Mis-
take.’ It is pure fiction.

Nimble Jerry, Peoria, Tll.—There is no danger in
-amping out if the weather is moderately good, and
you do not sleep on the damp ground. Good flannels
and water-proof blankets should protect you from the
cold.

J. B. D., Montreal, Can.—The reason of the bird’s
illness is probably because you have been feeding it
carelessly. Parrots want to be keptclean, and fed
chiefly on bread and water, Never give a parrot meat.

Cc. B. C., New Wilmington, Pa.—1. No, wedo not
accept stories written in pencil. 2. We cannot send
you a list of the stories to appear in Goop News for
the future. Read the announcements.

4iny Tim, Hornellsville, N. Y.—It certainly seems
unfair, but you had better bear it quietly. Kicking
seldom does any good. Besides, after all, you seem
to have been a trifle to blame.

The weight in pounds of machine |

egal |

GOOD

 

The aver- |

| inducements this week to all readers of Goop

 

. | miums on the half-cent of 1809, the dime of 1827, or the

cent of 1861. 2.

who buy coins.
Harry, Manchester, N. H.—1.

another story by William Murray

We shall have
Graydon shortly.

2. We have anticipated your wish, as you will soon | f

see.

A. M. K., Salt Lake City, Utah.
cover an area of 90,000 square miles,
of the five is 1,534 miles.

Clarence M. W., Chicago, Ill.—July 20, 1874, fell on
Monday, and December 7, 1880, on Tuesday.

{ Several communications left over to be answered next
week. |

The Great Lakes
The total length

a
AMON G

fs ¢X°
NEWS iGLUBS.

_s

 

{SPECIAL NOTICE.—This column is for GOOD
NEWS Clubs only. No notices will be inserted
excepting such as are genuine GOOD NEWS Club
notices, and nothing in the shape of an advertise-
nent will be allowed. Every club notice should
have the names of the president and secretary of
the club attached. For information concerning
GOOD NEWs Club Badge and Electrotypes see ad-
vertisement on last page. ]

Oteedenn

CLUB CHAT.

Walter J. Leon, 118 Maiden lane, New York city: | 7 : : .
| and other reading matter to exchange for a type-

is desirous of forming a dramatic club, and would be

glad to hear from young folks, at least 16 years of age, |

with talent in that line. The object is to produce
farces, tragedies, comedies, etc., of not too great
length.

John Baumgartner, 270 North 4th street, Philadel-
phia, Pa., would like to hear from young men and
ladies who will help organize a Goop NrEws club.
Objects: Correspondenee, exchanging, philately, etc.

Frank B. Sommer, 718 North Campbell avenue,
Chicago, 011., would like to hear from some one in
Chicago, who is intereSted in starting a Goop NEws
corresponding club, or reading club.

The Goop Nrws Marine Corresponding Club of
| Duluth, Minn., has just issued a new membership

card, and it is one of the prettiest we have seen.

The Goop NrEws Corresponding Club of Chicago,
Ill., will be known from how on as the Goop NEws
World Corresponding Club, of the same city.

We have received a neat card of membership of the
Golden West Good NEws Club of San Francisco, for
which our thanks are due the secretary.

A. J. Jones, 705 South Adams street, Peoria, I1.,
would like to hear from secretaries of clubs in regard
to joining.

 

CLUB NOTICES.

Don’t read this notice. Oh, well, you have gone so
far, you may as well finish it. The Goop NrEws
Scraps and Patches Corresponding Club of Tacoma,
Wash., wants more good members. We offer good
NEws.
This club is for boys and young ladies who like fun,
and would like to correspond and exchange photos
with one another. Ifyou hurry up you may be ap-
pointed representative for your city. All members
receive Scraps and Patches, a fine club_ paper,
one year, absolutely free. Every member receives a
certificate of membership, and has his or her name
and address printed in our mail and corresponding
directory, which brings them lots of mail. The first
joining from each city is appointed representative.
The first joining after this notice is presented with a
handsome book; every fifth one joining receives a fine
present. Please state your age when writing, if you
don’t object. Initiation fee 14 cents; dues, 2 cents per
month in advance. Address the secretary, Geo. F.
Linquist, 1514 Jefferson avenue, Tacoma, Wash. W. C.
Price, president; Chas. Reed, vice-president.

Vacation is now heré, boys, and you don’t know
what to do with yourselves in the long, hot summer
evenings.
Goop News Marine Corresponding Club of Duluth,
Minn., and correspond with its members who are
waiting for you to write to them, and you will enjoy
yourself. It will improve your handwriting and help
you in many other ways. Join now, and receive a
membership card, membership list, application blank,
and the amateur paper entitled Club News, free every
month, along with many other articles. Initiation
fee, 5 cents; dues, 5 cents per month in advance. Ad-
dress the secretary, James M. Campbell, Duluth,
Minn.

Have you heard about the Golden Gate Goop NEws
Club of San Francisco, Cal.? Initiation fee, 10 cents;
no dues; ladies free. Only a limited number will be
admitted, as we now have from 250 to 500 members,
including Europe, Asia, and Africa, also the United
States. Join at once and don’t delay. This club has
the best established list of members of any other club
on the Pacific Coast; established since 1890. Mem-
bers wanted in Tennessee, Mississippi, Utah and
Indian Territory. Any one joining from the above
States may admit a friend free. For further par-
ticulars address the secretary, George A. Dolan, 731
Harrison street, San Francisco, Cal.

Don’t disband your club, but consolidate with the
Goop Nrws World Corresponding Club of Chicago,
Til. We want more members, All joining within a
week after this notice appears will receive the Ama-

 

teur Standard and the New Guide, one year, free of

charge. These two are the brightest and best club
papers published. Every fifth one joining will re-
ceive one package of rare foreign stamps. Initiation
fee, 10 cents; dues, 5 cents for three months, in ad-
vance; ladies and foreigners admitted for a 5c, stamp.
Address the secretary, Arthur K. Wild, 167 Lewis
street, Chicago, Il.

Are you thinking of joiningaclub? How would
you like to correspond with some of the Goon NEws
Musical Club girls? Our lady members are noted for
the brilliant and witty letters they write. Shall we
put your name on the list? The better class of readers
of Goop NEws are all joining this elub, why not you?
We have prepared a little pamphlet that will tell you
all about us. We willsend you one for a stamp, or
you would make no mistake in sending your initia-
tion fee at once. It’sonly 10 cents. C. J. McKinley,
Anita, Towa.

All readers of the “King of Boys’ Papers” are in-
vited to join the Goop NEws Reading Club of Ran-
kin, Pa. To all joining this week will give ten mixed
stamps, two 5-cent novels, No. 2 list of members, list
of books we lend, and one of the handsomest mem-
bership cards. AJl questions answered by the secre-
tary, J. M. Crom, Rankin, Pa.

Decatur’s Goop NrEws Corresponding Club is the
club to join. Initiation fee, 10 cents; no dues; ladies,

2c, stamp; foreigners, except Canadians, admitted
free. Join atonce and have your name in our new
list. Card of membership and membership list by re-

turn mail.
egtur, Tl.

Notice! Goop News Eclipse Corresponding Club
of Red Oak, [owa, is now ready for more members.

Address Percy 8S. Ewing, secretary, De-

Well, all you want to dois to join the |

There are a large number of dealers | and list to all.

 

 

|} 5 and 10-cent

 

Scents. Regular fee, 10 cents; no dues. Neat card
Ethel M. Cook, secretary, Red Oak,
Iowa.
ile attain nil
~~ YY f Y
fy, XCHANGE AD EP ARTMENT.
y v9

(IMporTaNT.—This column is freeto all our readers.
We will not be responsible for transactions brought
about through notices in this column. All offers niust
be strictly exchange offers. We will uot insert any
“for sale” advertisements, nor exchanges of fire-arnis,
explosives, dangerous or worthless articles. If exchange
notices do not appear in a reasonable time, it may be
understood that they were not accepted. Address al]
communications for this column to “Exchauge De-
partment.”]

: ——¢

BOYS’ PAPERS AND STAMPS.—Martin A. Ken-
nelly, 522 East 84th street, New York city, would like
to exchange 25 numbers of a boys’ paper, and 70 for-
eign and United States stamps for any 25 running
numbers of Goop NrEws, except Nos. 241 to 271, of
Vols. 10 and 11.

PRINTING PRESSES.—A. F. Johnson, 356 Hill
street, Dubuque, Iowa, will give two printing presses,
size 2x2 3-4 (they are different), for a Goop NrEws
binder, oran autoharp. Will answer all who have
Goop News binder, or will give a printing press alone
for stamps from sheets; a Goop Nerws binder pre-
ferred for one of the presses.

READING MATTER.—Ernest Moore, Moorefield,
Ark., has 25 good 25-cent novels, two volumes of
Goop NEws, one volume of the New York Weekly,

writer, or printing press,

READING MATTER.—Robert Ives, 903 North 6th
street, Burlington, Iowa, has two 25-cent books, 25
novels, and six comic weeklies to ex-
change for best offer in 25-cent detective books, or
reading matter. Excellent offers in reading matter
for 25-cent books by Nick Carter, or books by Ellis,
Graydon, Jayne, and Coomer.

MISCELLANEOUS.—E. Couran, 1500 North 4th
street, Philadelphia, Pa., has brand-new photoret or
watch camera (including films), 35 large minerals,
ticket punch, 900 clean picture cards, old coins, bound
books, professional magic tricks, one gallon secret
ink, fades in four weeks; new self-inking rubber
stamp, 25 lessons in fire eating, and two trick books to
exchange for a medical battery, or anything useful;
no reading matter.

STA MPS.— Bernard Stern, 2250 Jefferson avenue,
Fordham, New York city, has eight 15-cent Colum-
bians (unused) to trade for unused Columbians from
1 to 10¢.; must all have mucilage on back; nothing
else accepted.

BOYS’ PAPERS. —Edward Brown, 263 Kelsey
street, New Britain, Conn., has 75 numbers of a boys’
paper to exchange for a bound volume of Good NrEws,
or best offer in unbound Goop NEws. Write at once.

STAMPS.—Eugene Neubauer, Barry, Pike County,
Til., has 3,000 stamps—2,000 Columbians, of low and
high denominations; 1,000 foreign, United States pos-
tal and revenue stamps, to exchange for other stamps,

| or best offer; also a fine stamp album containing vari-

| ous kinds.

 

All postals or letters answered.

MISCELLANEOUS.—C. E. Wayman, Fairmont,
W. Va., bas an American typewriter, combination
telegraph instrument and battery, J. W. Scott’s United
States stamp album (boards); rare United States and
foreign stamps, novels, etc., to exchange for a self-
inking printing press (chase not less than 8x5), and
type.

BICYCLE AND CLOWN SUIT.—William Grafton»
care of Dr. Lane, 2237 North 29th street, Philadelphia,

Pa., has a pneumatic-tire safety bicycle and clown
suit to trade for a magic lantern, with slides 3x4
inches.

STAMPS.—Henry Breslau, 904 6th street, S. W.,
Washington, D. C., has 3,000 United States and foreign
stamps (some rare), to exchange for best ofter; bicycle
preferred. All letters answered.

PRINTING PRESS.—Percy Ewing, Decatur, II1.,
has a good printing press to exchange for best offer in
stamps or coins.

MISCELLANEOUS.—L. E. O’ Keefe, Jr., 215 Ponce
de Leon avenue, Atlanta, Ga., has five books, by
Cooper, Verne, and Kingston, and a ten-dollar Con-
federate bill for best offer in Goop NEws.

MAGAZINES.—Clayton Carpenter, Glenville, Cuy-
ahoga County, Ohio, has six good magazines to ex-
change for Goop News trom No. | to 18 inclusive;
also five magazines for each of any three volumes of
Goop News after Vol. 2 and before Vol. 8. No postals
answered.

STAMPS.—Elvin D. George, Box 81, Staunton, IIl.,
will exchange foreign and United States stamps for
reading matter, or best offer. All letters answered.

STAMPS AND GOOD NEWS.—William Northam,
Jr., Thurlow, Pa., will give 1,295 foreign stamps, 215
old United States stamps, 22 Columbian stamps, 165
common United States stamps, 72 postal heads, and
Goop News, from 229 to the present number, for a
violin outfit valued at not less than $10.

STAMPS.—M. J. Joyce, Tonawanda, N. Y., has 100
unuesed lec. blue on orange (1874 issue) envelopes to
exchange for the $1 Columbian, or‘the 15 or 30c. 1869;
10 envelopes for the 5c. 1847, or for any department
stamp worth 50 cents; 20 envelopes for 100 unused
United States Revenue; 10 for 30 or 50c. Columbian;
one unused foreign stamp for every five United
States sent him.

COLUMBIAN STAMPS.—W. B. Carlton, Miller’s
Falls, Mass., will give a6 or 8c. Columbian for every
100 varieties of foreign stamps: a 15c. Columbian for
every 12c. 1872; a 30c. Columbian for every 90c. 1872.
Lots of Columbians to exchange. Correspondence
wanted.

NOVELS AND PICTURE CARDS. — Henry M-
Congdon, 376 Pleasant street, Willimantic, Conn., has
30 5 and 10-cent novels, and 250 picture cards to ex-
change for boys’ books, paper-bound. Send list of
articles to exchange and receive his, All letters an-
swered.

STAMPS.—F. L. Smith, Amsterdam, N. Y., has a
collection of 500 varieties of United States and foreign
stamps to exchange {or best offer in stamps.

STAM PS.—Fred. H. Pike, 1 Terrace place, Yonkers,
N. Y., will give 15 foreign stamps for a 6c. Columbian
stamp; 25 foreign stamps for a 15c. Columbian, or 50
foreign stamps for a 30c. Columbian. Would like to
hear from any one having Columbian stamps over 30
cents to exchange.

MISCELLANEOUS.—A. A. Thompson, Laconia,
N. H., will exchange five 5-cent novels for any Nick
Carter novel that he has not got; send your list and
receive his; also 50 foreign stamps to exchange for
every 3, 6, 8, or 10c. Columbian stamp sent him; 100
foreign for every 15c.; 100 varieties of foreign for every
30e.

STAMPS.—G. R. Hyde, Martinsburg, W. Va., has
a collection of about 900 varieties of foreign and United
States stamps to exchange for a man’s base-ball
uniform, in good condition, or a $7 catcher’s mitt and
a pair of $8 base-ball shoes; also a lot of reading mat-
ter for a mask and canvas bat-bag, with leather tips,
or best offer in base-ball goods.

 

 
   

4416

 

MOSE HOWARD'S FISH-TRAP. |

 

a4

i
BY J. R. HAMMOND. |
|
|

PART II.

—™ O off the boys started, and going down |
~ the stream about a mile, seated them- |

 
 

<Y selves upon a log, and began yelling
“— and whooping, as on
occasion.

Hour after hour passed, each hour seem- | events.

ing to the benumbed professor an age.

The yelling approached slowly but surely. | barking of the dog soon roused the inmates

The boys had now arrived at a point)
where every motion of the professor was dis- |
tinctly visible.

The piece of candle Mose had lighted and
put in the lantern was nearly burned out. |
Taking up the other piece, the professor
proceeded to light it, Placing it in the lan-
tern, it gave a splutter and went out.
Dark! Dark was no name for it. No moon,
no stars, no matches.

But that bogus candle wculd have been a
match for a whole box.of matches.

‘‘What in thunder’s the matter now?’’
shouted Mose. /
‘*The candle’s gone out,’’ shouted the
professor back. ‘‘Have you got any|
matches?’’ he inquired.

. |
‘*Nary match,’’ said Mose,

| him and the sapling than he was seized with

| tremendous effort he succeeded in
the previous | a fork some ten feet from the ground, where

| self in his hand, emerged therefrom.

|as he approached the sapling, at the root of

‘*What’s to be done?’’ inquired tbe pro- |
fessor.
‘*Nuthin’,’? said Mose. ‘‘The thing’s

played out.
and git our’n, and then we’ll git for home.’’

Seating themselves on a log, the boys re-
mained quiet for awhile, then rising to their
feet, they came up to where the professor

Put on your cloze, while we go time raising his rifle to his shoulder.

was waltzing around trying to get up a cir- |

culation.

‘t Another waterhaul,’’ said Mose,

‘*Looks a good deal like it,’’ said the pro-
fessor.

‘*Don’t know why the mischief some of us
didn’t think tu bring some matches,’’ said
Mose.

‘*[ don’t know, either,’’ responded the
professor, in a deprecating tone of voice, as
though he entertained the idea that some-

' he had been seated, the professor slid down

how or other he had been mainly instru- |

mental in producing the bad luck.

‘«Better luck next time,’’ said Mose, phil-
osophically, as he struck out for Rome, fol-
lowed by the others.

They had proceeded about two-thirds of

| plaining matters to the satisfaction of that
thinly-clad backwoodsman and his savage

}

| reached Jimtown the sun was some distance

the way home, groping their way as _ best |

they could through the thick darkness, when

them, and apparently at no great distance, |

broke upon their startled auriculars.
‘*Painter!’’ ejaculated Mose, in a low tone
of voice, though sufficiently loud to be dis-
tinctly audible to the professor, at the same
time. springing to one side, and the next
moment he was out of the professor’s hear-
ing.
The fact was he had only taken a couple of

.steps and then squatted in the grass as com-

pletely concealed from his companions by
the intense darkness as though he. had been
on the opposite side of the globe.

7 : | the zenith,
a shrill, prolonged scream directly ahead of |

| countenances,

| on the subject, answering interrogatories in

‘*Painter!’’ repeated the other boys, fol- |

lowing Mose’s example, of springing to
one side and squatting in the grass.

Left alone, the professor, with hair on |

end, paused a moment to collect his scat- |

tered thoughts; but only tor a moment.

Another seream, long-drawn out, and ap-
parently but a few yards distant, set his
dumpling-shaped body in motion, and the
next moment he was streaking it across the
country as fast as his duck legs could carry
him.

Tumbling over a log lying on the edge of
a bank some twenty feet high and nearly

perpendicular, down which he rolled, he
‘landed in a mud-hole at the bottom.
Gathering himself up he began looking for |
his hat, which had parted company with |
‘him on the way down the bank, when an-

other scream breaking upon his ear, he
struck out once more on his race for life,
hatless and covered with mud from his head
to his heels.

Coming to a brier patch, he was on the |

point of diverging from his course in order
to try and go around it,
scream precipitated the terror-stricken pro-
fessor into the patch like a catapult.
Emerging from the brier patch with his
coat-tails torn into ribbons, the mud-
begrimed professor held on the even tenor
of his way without any diminution of speed
for a hundred yards or so, when his pace

began to slacken a little. Another scream, | public. He was simply a boy, like any boy;
however, put him to his mettle again, but | and this was exactly what he wanted.

as that was the last, and as he was about

exhausted, he soon settled down to a walk, | the shopkeepers, because he seemed to have
and presently stumbling over a log, be! plenty of money.
picked himself up and seated himself there- | thing which seemed to attract him most was

on.

After resting a while, plunged in the
meantime in a deep cogitation, he finally
concluded to try and seek a shelter for the
remainder of the night. So, starting for-
ward, he wandered about first in one direc-
tion and then in another, and it was not
until daylight began to streak the eastern

horizon that he stumbled on a clearing in| trating themselves upon the ground, and
the woods, in the midst of which was a log- | making alarmed outcries.:

cabin.

Cautiously approaching the cabin, he had ' ke retains his hair-clipper as a souvenir of a
- reached the foot of a sapling some fifty steps happy day of freedom with the street boys.

: ee ee
: ‘A- KING WHO WANTED FRESH AIR.

| king, Thanh ‘Tai, who is now fourteen years
old, was missing.

| royal grounds.

when another |

ithen it grew
| disgusted.

| Finally he burst into a flame of indigna-
| tion, and after taking his revenge out of the

from the door when a big dog came dash-
ing around the corner of the house, barking
in a most furious Manner.

No sooner did the professor catch sight of
the dog bouncing along in the direction of

such a sudden panic as to cause him to
grasp the sapling in his arms and start up
it, though owing to want of practice with
hardly the agility of a squirrel. After a
reaching

he seated himself, and awaited the issue of

He didn’t have long to wait. The furious
of the cabin.

Scarcely a minute had elapsed after the
professor had succeeded, by the most super-
human exertions, in seating himself com-
fortably in the fork of the sapling, out of |
the reach of the dog, when the door of the
cabin opened and a huge six-footer of a
backwoodsman, somewhat airily attired, |
with a rifle of corresponding size with him- |

 

 

‘‘What you got thar, Bull?’’ said the man,

which the dog was barking in a most vo-
ciferous manner. ‘‘What is it, old feller?’’
he continued. ‘‘B’ar, painter, ur cata-
mount?’?

3ull’s response was an abortive attempt
to climb the tree, accompanied by a most
furious outburst of barking.

‘‘Be quiet, old feller,’’ said the man;
‘we'll soon see what it is,’’ at the same

‘‘Hold on there,’’ shouted the professor,
position in which he was placed, and the
for a bear or catamount. ‘‘I am no var-
mint.
Orthography in the
school.’’

‘‘Hallo,’’ said the backwoodsman, as he
lowered his rifle, ‘‘is that so? Well, that
gits me. What in thunder ur you doin’ up
thar???

‘*Wait till I get down, and I'll tell you.”’

And crawling out of the crotch in which

Jimtown district

the sapling, when he. soen succeeded in ex-

bull-dog.
It was now broad daylight, and when he

above the horizon, climbing upward toward

Of course every man, woman and child in
the place beheld, with wonder-depicted
the advent of the mud-
begrimed, hatless professor, and a thousand
conjectures were indulged in as to the cause
of his singular appearance.

The professor was disposed to be reticent

relation to the matter evasively; but the
joke was ton good to be kept, and in less
than twenty-four hours his approach to-
ward any crowd was greeted by a_ broad
grin overspreading the countenances of a
majority of the members thereof, and his
departure signalized by a long guffaw.

This conduct on the part of the citizens
annoyed the professor considerably at first;
monotonous, and he became

| hides of the pupils, especially Mose Howard
and his confederates, the irate professor
shook the dust of Jimtown off his feet, and
betook himself to parts unknown.

(THE END.)

Not long ago there was terrible excite
The

;ment at the royal court of Anpam.

Etiquette requires that
| the Annamese king shall never leave the
He is a kingly prisoner.
But the young potentate was not hard to
find. Though he was a king he was a boy;
and it is natural for a boy, when he has
some money in his pocket, to want to go
out and spend it.
| That was exactly what the King of An-
|nam had done. Entirely alone, he had
| started on a ‘‘shopping’’ expedition through
| the streets of Hue. Of course, no one knew
| him, because he had never shown his face in
}

But he was treated with great respect by
Curiously enough, the:

a head-shearing machine, or hair-clipper,
and when the frightened nobles of the court
discovered him at last, it was with this
singular implement in his possession.

He had already begun to experiment with
| it on the heads of several small street
boys, who were proving rebellious subjects,
} when the courtiers approached him, pros-

The king no longer goes out shopping, but

 

NEWS.

stamps, or silver. A,
Kansas City, Mo.

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besides be-
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who was beignning to realize the perilous one Tekh, pinion Swim.
: ‘ : Diving; also Parlor
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~ Cautions, Sea Bathing and Direc.
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splices, step-

 

 
 
  
 
  
 
 
  
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ping a
mast, , e
etc.
6 Lee meee)
Water Lins ; ‘ 7
‘er H
—— ‘ y)
ul diol a } af
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i 2

This valuable book, entitled Boys’ Own Book of Boats, will b#
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AFLOAT WITH A CIRCUS;
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BOY CARIBAU-HUNTERS ;
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WORKING HIS WAY;
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