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Vol. 12. Renee Ot aoe New York, March 28, 1896. Oe ee ean No. 308.

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ese

‘“HOLD FAST!’’ SHOUTED JUD, AS HE SAW THE SAND COLUMNS RUSH INWARD.

THE BOY BOOMERS.

A Story of Frontier Journalism.

BY HARRY DANGERFIELD,
Author of “Don Kirk's Mine,’ “The Boy Cattle King,” “The Boy from the West,” ete.

 

(“THE Boy BooMERS” was commenced last week. |

—-—-

 
 
   
       

  
  

 

 

 

: = | CHAPTER IV. |of Jud’s words. ‘‘Gone, and taken two of
3 our horses???

ee ‘ =. Me —— PUSHING ON. ‘¢That’s what he has,’’ said the older lad,

rs . aun M7 ; | Ce ».. : savagely. ‘‘The wretched scoundrel!’’
ow i% . SD a =), h /e\\ITLE JOE struggled out from the Where the fire had been lay a gray. patch
‘ a =e = G 2 infolding blanket, and got upon his| of ashes, like a ghostly face. The sharp
WITHov , : et — feet. ‘ wind from the mountain gorges to the north
OUT A WORD OF WARNING, A MAN STRODE STRAIGHT UP TO THE FIRE, AND > ‘*Gone!’? he repeated, as if he were | came down across the plain and stirred the

SCATTERED THE BRANDS IN ALL DIRECTIONS. still waable to comprehend the full meaning ashes now and then\ causing a still smolder-

 
4914

So

 

- “THE NAMEL

My title is

Name.

de

ing coal to appear and disappear like the]
blinking of a fiery eye. The thin river lay

silent in its bed. The cutting chill of the |
wind coutrasted strongly with the burning |
heat of the day that had passed.

‘‘How did he git away without waking |
us?’? asked Joe, still wondering.

‘¢*That is a question I can’t answer,’’ con-
fessed Jud, in extreme disgust. ‘‘J must have
slept like a dead man. He has left his own
wretched beasts, but he is none the less a
horse-thief, and horse-thieves are not popu-
lar in this part of the country. Judge Lynch }
has a habit of dealing with them most ex- |
peditiously.’’

‘*T didn’t think he would do such a mean
thing,’’ said the lame boy.’ ‘‘An editor ofa
newspaper, and a man of such ability——’’

**In his mind,’’ Jud contemptuously inter-
rupted, ‘‘He laid his hard luck to fate, but
l reckon he would have been in better lines
if he had deserved it. I am ‘something of a
character reader, and I saw he was foxy
when I looked him over. His eyes were set
too near together, and his lips were too
thin.’’

‘*We ought to have watched him.’’

‘*That’s right; but we thought of it too
late.”’

‘*What are we going to do?’’

‘*T don’t see as we can do: much of
thing.’’ i

‘**You don’t mean that we are going to let
him get away with our horses?’’

‘:[ don’t see how we can help it. He has
taken the two best animals, and it is prob-
able that he knows this part of the country
far better than we do. That hé has a good
start is pretty certain, for he was out of
hearing when I awoke and found the. horses |
gone. The night is one that would carry the
footsteps of a hoarse a long distance. I don’t |
believe we will ever see Horace Greeley
Grant again.’’

“Tf we do——’’

‘*If we do!’’ repeated Jud.
won’t say anything about that till
him.’’

Then Jud took Joe to where the horses had
been, showing him they were gone beyond a |
doubt, but Grant had taken the equipments |
for only one creature. |

‘*Tt’s a wonder he didn’t steal the whole
outfit !’’ cried Joe, surprised.

*‘Don’t you think he left anything of |
value that he fancied he could get away with |
easily. The only reason why he didn’t carry |

off my Winchester is because le didn’t like
to take the risk of waking me.”’

‘*Well,’’ said the lame lad, with an air of |
resignment, ‘‘I suppose we will have to|
make the best of it. Guess Charles A. Dana |

and Joseph Pulitzer will draw \the Boomer |
office into Red Horse Gulch.”’

‘‘Gues¢ they will if we don’t run into}
Apaches,’’ thought Jud, although he did not
utter the words aloud.

Jud well understood there might be genu-
ine danger of encountering the renegade In-
dians under the Kid, but he did not want to
shake Joe’s nerve.’ The older boy had
counted on cutting loose from the wagon
and escaping on horseback if hostiles were
seen, abet this might have been possible with
theiy original animals; but the creatures
left by Grant certainly could not cope with
Indian ponies, and so there would be little
show for the boys if they were seen by the
Apaches.

Still Jud was undaunted. It is true that he
thought of turning about and going back to
Phoenix, but hé was ashamed of himself the
minute he did so, and Joe never knew that
such a fancy had entered his companion’s
mind for an instant.

_ Morning was not far away, so they held a
consultation, and, being thoroughly awak-
ened, resolved to hitch up and push on dur-
ing the cool hours that preceded the rising

of the sun. ;

ey this arrangement Charles A. Dana did
not object, but Joseph Pulitzer, true to the
reputation Grant had given him, kicked up
quite a row, succeeding in giving Dana a |
sharp dig, which was promptly returned in |
the shape of a kick that sobered the rampant |

mule and made him very docile for the time,
“ A tardy but brilliant moon was creeping
up in the east when the wagon was once
more turned and headed up the Salt River
trail, creaking in a dreary, complaining
‘manner. Little Joe was on the seat, hand-
ling the reins and whip, while Jud bestrode
the pack-horse and rode alongside, the pack

Address

’

any-

 

ell ioral tah,

‘*Well,
we

we |
see

 

| Grant face to face, although he was not sure

| Jud. ‘‘In our haste to get started,

as

S STORY”

ks

having been bestowed in the wagon. Across
the saddle before him lay Jud’s rifle, and
Joe seemed to feel safe and quite at ease
with his bold, well-armed companion close
at hand as a body-guard.

Joe cracked his long-lashed whip with a
skill he had acquired since coming West, and
shouted at the mules as he had heard team-
ster's shout. In spite of their misfortune in,
losing the horses, he felt light-hearted and |
hopeful, and something seemed to tell him |
that there were good things in store for the |
new proprietors of the Arizona Boomer.

Jud could not keep from thinking of the |
stolen' horses and longing to meet Horace G.
|
what he would do should such a thing oc-
cur.

So these two strangely contrasted lads
went on through the brightness of the wan- |
ing night. littie realizing the fact that their |
situation was remarkable, and their venture
one of the most daring and peculiar ever
undertaken by two boys.

Sometimes strange and uncanny figures
rose before them, startling them into intent
observation by fantastic shapes and shadaews |
flung black and far on the moonlit plain;

| but usually these figures proved to be some
| novel

torm of the giant cactus, or the|
warped and twisted branches of a grease-
wood clump. Jt was not strange that the
lame boy’s vivid fancy pictured scores of
blood-thirsty Apaches lurking in the shadow
of these forms of fantastic vegetation.
Occasionally, as they came near to the |
river, they would see strips of post oaks and |
pecans that bordered the water-course, and
from the blackness that hovered there Jée
would imagine a hundred red warriors

| sweeping out upon them. ,

‘*Hee-haw! hee-haw! hee-haw!’’ =,

The drtver dropped his whip and nearly
tumbled from his seat, to the ground as this
discordant sound rent the air. It was the |
braying of one of- the mules, “the creature
having stopped with its nose outstretched
toward the river. )

‘*Ginger!’’ gasped Joe. ‘*That broke me
all up!’

‘*T don’t wonder. the ereature brays,’’ said |
we for- |
got to give the animals any water.’ i

Straightway the mules were unhitched
and led down to the river, where all three
animals Were given as muchas they tould
drink.

Then

hitched once

the mules were up

|} more, and the strange outfit moved on,

Morning came. ‘lhe stars died out, paling
and fading gradually, while the moon grew
wan and ghostly. In the east a shimmering
vail of light flung itself up into thesky, and
the tinge of gold that hung low down to the
horizon told that the sun would soon appear. |

Once more the trail had found the river, |
and there the boys halted for breakfast.

The blue smoke of a_ hastily lighted fire |
rose in a straight column into the air, and it |
was not long before the coffee-pot was ‘-bub-
bling and sending out an aroma that filled
them with intense hunger.

They were eating when Jud suddenly |
started up, clutching his rifle and peering |
anxiously back along the trail.

‘*What is it?’’ asked the lame lad.

‘* Horsemen, ’?

‘*How many?’ /

‘Three. ’?

‘*You—you don’t think they are—are—In- |
juns?’’

‘*T reckon not. They are white men, but |
white men are sometimes dangerous in this |
part of the country. I don’t think I will |
finish breakfast till I find out who they. are
and what they want.’’ \

This was enough to set Joe fluttering with
excitement, and he got upon his feet, stand- |
ing a little behind Jud, as they.both watched |
the dust-cloud that now and then swept |
aside and showed for a moment the trio of |
horsemen.

The three men were making good time, |
and it was not long before they were. uear
enough for the two lads to inspect them.
They saw three roughly dressed men |
mounted on hardy horses. Hach man was |
well-armed, but the weapons remained un- |
touched as they came nearer.

**T don’t Shink they will molest us,’? said
Jud,

But still he clutéhed his Winchester,
for what might occur.

The three bearded, dust-covered

ready
horsemen

\

|stiddy till he gave an account o

| the hawse he wuz leadin’.

| ‘*Hf we’d known, we’d lynched ther galoot

| Arizona
| toward Phoenix, and it was not at all prob- |

| horses again.

NEwsS.

( s ! :
|swept up to the camp and drew rein, one explained.

} calling:
‘*Hello thar, youngsters! Which way?’?’
‘“'To Red Horse Gulch,’’ replied Jud.
‘*Same way we’re goin’,

got in ther wagon?’’

‘tA printing outfit,’’
thinking it best to tell the truth.

Thé man whistled, saying:

‘*Goin’ to set up a printin’-ranch in Red
Hawse? Wa-al, I’m blowed ef thet thar
an’t energy an’ nerve! ‘Takin’ breakfast?
We’d like ter stop an’ be socibul, but can’t
spare the time. Kh, pards?’’

‘*Not much,’’ replied both of
panions in unison.

‘*We’re bound to stake our claims in

 

us.
‘*Then there is a rush’coming?’’

| Jud.

| yar trail will be lined with galoots bound for | ing to come from the mouth of a

‘*Red Horse Gulch is deep i
that range—a day’s jaunt after Chalk-mark
Mountain is passed.”’

Not far from where the Red Horse trail

What hev ye| branched off from the Salt River trail, they

came upon a bit of a stream that ran down

replied the boy, | into the river. At certain seasons of the year

this stream was a river itself, but it had

| now dwindled to a mere thread.

Here they filled the water-cask in the
wagon, for they had heard that the desert —
into which they were plunging was wide and
waterless. The mules and the horse were
given all they needed to drink, after which

his com-| the wagon rolled on once more.

They had fancied that the heat already

Red | experienced was about alla man could eD-
| Hawse ahead 0’ ther rush thet’s follerin’ | dure but they soon found that it grew hot-
s

ter the farther they moved from the river

questioned | The sun seemed to sweep across the’ desert

| with remorseless intensity, -and the wind
| ‘‘Bet yer boots! Within three days this! that rose brought no cooling breath, seem-

furnace.

| Red Hawse Gulch. They’ve caught ther | It lifted the fine particles of sand and hurled”
fever in Florence, Tombstone, Tucson,, an’; them into the boys’ faces with stinging

| even as fur off as Yuma.
be one o’ ther biggest rushes ever known,
, an’ ther galoots what git thar fust will be
all right, while ther other critters will be |
all left. Don’t waste any time, kids; hitch
up yer mules an’ jog along as soon as yer |
can. I wish yer luck. My name’s Parsons— |
Sam Parsons—an’ [ reckon I'll see yer in |
ied Hawse. So long. Come on, pards.’’
‘*Wait a moment!’’ cried Jud, as the trio

| were about to go galloping away.

Sam Parsons pulled up.
‘*Wa-al?’’? he drawled, questioningly.
‘‘Have you seen anything of a tall, lank, |

with white stockings forward?’’

‘*Yep; reckon we saw such a galoot. He|
run plump inter our camp last night. We
didn’t know w’at he was up ter, an’ so we

Thar’s bound ter} force.

The drifting sand had obscured the trail,

, but the mountain served as sufticient guide.

At length they came upon something that

| told them of the terrors of the desert. Halt ;

buried by the shifting sand lay the bleach | :
ing bones of a horse, to which a cheap Mex —
ican saddle was still strapped. Beneath the

| saddle was an old blanket that tossed and,
| flapped in the twisting, writhing wind.

Somehow the lads would not have bee”
surprised had they come upon theskeleton OF

| the horse’s master in the immediate vicill-

ity; but no such spectacle startled their @X-_

| red-headed man, with two good horseg, one | pectant eyes.
}a bay mare and the other a_ black gelding

At times they wound their way amid
clumps of hideous greasewood, and theD-
they. came upon thickets of bitter sage; —
which finally gave way to a waste of san@
ou which no sign of vegetation could be seeD:

kivered him with our guns an’ held him! This sand was light and shifty beneath the —

’

himself. | feet of the animals, and the wagon wheels |

Said his name wuz Grant, an’ he’d bought} sunk into it, making the mules labor to hat

thing ’bout ther Kid an’ his gang bein’ |

but [ didn’t take much stock in him nohow. |
| kinder judged he wuz a liar from the!
ground up, an’ I’d liked ter hed time ter
investigate his case, but time wuz precious,
so we let him go on.’’

‘*He stole both of those horses.’’

‘Wath?

Parsons looked angry and disgusted.

‘*The horses belong to.us,’’ explained Jud.
‘*He took them, and left these wretched |
mules in their places. Of course, we were |
unable to follow him.’’

‘*Wa-al, dern ther luck!?? cried

|
|
|

Parsons. |
fer ye, an’ brought back ther hawses.’ Sorry |
we couldn’t done ye that little favor. Mebbe |
we’ll gita chance ter give Mr. Grant a
necktie party later on. So long again.”’

And away went the three horsemen. leav-
ing the boys to resume-their breakfast.

CHAPTER \V.

MONSTERS OF THE DESERT.

T irregular intervals throughout the
day the boys were passed by parties
on the way to Red Horse Gulch,

> and the indication seemed to be
that the rush had set in fairly.

Several times they obtained information |

concerning Grant, but the late owner of the
Boomer was pushing steadily |

c

able that they would éver see either man or |

Through the heat of mid-day they rested |
beneath the shade of the scattering timber
near the river, realizing it would not do to
push the mules too hard.

The sun was blazing, and the plain cov- |
ered with the heat haze when they hitched |
up and pushed on again. The mules crawled
along like snails, with they wagon creaking |
behind them, and Little Joe nodding drow-
sily on the seat. Jud’s horse walked with
hanging head, and all the ambition seemed’
to have departed from the boy who sat
slouching in the saddle,

They would have presented a fine subject
for the pencil of an artist, had an artist been
present to sketch them.

It was late in. the afternoon when they
came toa sign that read: ,

“TO READ HOS GULCH,
**This way—strait Ahed.’’

Beneath these words was a crudely drawn
hand that pointed northward toward some
low-lying mountains, in the midst of which
rose one that was marked with a long gray
streak down its side.

‘There is Chalk-mark Mountain, Joe!’
cried Jud, “Thet will be our guide after |
this, if we lose the trail.’’

‘Tt seems as if we are almost there,’’
said the lame boy, cheerfully, as he called
to the mules and cracked the long lash of
his whip. ‘

‘*They say it is two days’ journey from
the river.’’ \

“Git out!’

 

|

Joe’s face fell; he had fancied they were ground.
| fast to the rein of his horse, strugg!!

near the énd of the journey.

| of sand, and were gone.

| snorting, tossing its head,

|the sand columns suddenly

Had over some- | the creaking cart along.

Now and then a red lizard could be see2

|rampin’ round butcherin’ up this yar way, | darting aside, but, besides themselves, t

horse and the mules,’ these tiny creature —
seemed the only living things in the desert.
Here the whirl-blasts lifted towers of sal@s
like waterspouts at sea, and sent them re@-
ing and racing over the desert, with the su?
making the floating crystals gleam yelloW
and luminous. Sometimes two of these 8%
gantic, awe-inspiring towérs approacbé
each other, swaying and dodging, as if WY-
ing to pass without catastrophe, finally |
rushing madly together, to burst in a show@

saw,

The boys were awed by what they a

and, occasionally, the horse and the mul
were alarmed. Jud’s face was pale, but
still kept on, having taken the lead, and J?
drove after him, being forced to make t
mules feel the whip. occasionally. ;

‘*This is a reg’ler simoon, same as 1 used
to read about in the géogfry when I went 10
school,’’ cried the boy on the wagon,
was keeping up his courage in a way tH”
quite surprised Jud.
“*Or a siroeco,?’
‘If those sand columns will kee
we’ll get along all right.’

‘Oh, this is a lot better than Injuns.””

‘‘But may be just as dangerous, Looky
those pillars are on all sides now! They &
monsters—they seem larger than ever! ©)
them circle and dance round us! Jingoe
they seem like a band of savages circling,
white men they have trapped! They al

closing in!’ the
For a moment there seemed a lull of

half laughed the leadet

’ p aways

| wind where they were; and then they fou?

it difficult to breathe, as if they were in. 3
vacuum. The mules halted and cowereé ‘Jl
abject terror, while Jud’s horse stood St”
and quiver?
between the thighs of its rider, 4
Round and round circled and reeled
monsters of the desert in a wild, fant@ to
orgie that was awesome and appalling
witness. Sometimes one of them would ‘
ple inward, as if resolved to rush upon 7
cowering creatures within the circle,
would geem to change its mind, and ’
back with its uncanny comrades 0
dreary desert. Sometimes two pillars W
whirl] together, both moving in the
direction, and would melt into one ~
doubled monster that reeled on, ee
It did not seem that these things were Mg
columns of whirling sand; they were 1a
like giants, ogres, demons of the sand
—creatures with mind and reason and ie
ish desires.
Little wonder. the faces of both lads

| pallid, little wonder the mules cower?

their tracks, little wonder the horse 4
ered and snorted with terror.

**Hold fast!’ i

The shout broke from Jud’s lips, as he’
rush
toward the centre of the circle, a
some signal they all understood.

There was a buzzing sound that in¢
toa sullen roar, and then a crash 4
groan. Jud’s eyes were filled with say,
felt himself beaten upon, clutched: —
frony the saddle, hurled violently "yp
And yet, through it all, pr

‘*You see that mountain simply serves. as quickly to battle with the plunging, —

a

guide till it/ is reached,’’ the older lad beast, although he was in the mid

 
GooDdD NEWS.

4915

 

cloud of sand that was settling and falling
all about him.
_ Jud’s nerve and presence of mind kept the
horse from breaking away, which would
have been a most unfortunate thing just
then. He could not open his mouth without
having it filled with sand, but he patted the
animal on the neck and muzzle, and it grew
less violent.
' Then the sand-shower ceased,
cloud of dust swept away.
» Jud looked for Joe. The wagon was near
at hand, and the lame boy was still on the
Seat, clinging firmly to the reins. The mules
_ were braced with their feet wide apart, still
cowering. wae
‘Hello, there!’’ called the lame lad, cheer-
fully. ‘‘Glad to see you didn’t git picked
up and carried off by them things.’’
* **Merry jingoes!’’ gasped the other, rub-
bing the sand out of his eyes. ‘‘I thought
We would be buried under a mountain of

and the

Sand. I never before struck anything like |

/that.’’
‘*But it’s a lot better
Once more declared.
' With this last final swoop and burst, the
Sand monsters seemed to have vanished

than Injuns,’’ Joe

‘from the plain, as if baffled by their failure
‘in sweeping away or destroying the boys
and their outfit. The wind now cut steadily

across the desert, carrying fine particles be- |
fore it, but there were no more whirling |
fi

columns.

The sun was going down, and, from past
@xperience, the boys knew day would
quickly melt into night.

‘‘The mountains are a
~away,’’ sighed the lame lad.

_*That’s right,’? agreed Jud. ‘*But we’il
be there to-morrow. ’”?

‘Where will we camp to-night?’’

‘*Somewhere on the plain. Let’s push on
_yeta while. We may come upon some fav-
_orable place to stop.’’

_So they hurried on. The sun dropped from
‘View, the wind lulled, and the stars came
1

long distance

‘*T reckon we may as well stop here as
_anywhere,’’ said Jud, finally coming to a
halt. ‘‘We won’t find any better place to-
hight.’

So they drew up, the horse was unsaddled,

and the mules unhitched. Water being given
the animals in a limited amount, they were

fed from the supply carried in the’wagon.

‘*Tt looks as if we will have to go without

hot coffee to night,’? said Jud, shrugging
his shoulders, as the heat of the spent day
began to disappear before the strange chill
of the new night.

‘*Why??? asked Joe. ‘

‘*Because we haven’t any wood to build a
fire with.”

_- ‘**That’s where you are mistaken,’’ was
the cheerful information.. ‘‘There’s wood
n the wagon. Grant traveled provided.”’

It was true, and, before long, a small fire
Was built, twinkling cheerfully in the night,
While the coffee-pot was being prepared.

' But, ere the pot could be placed on the
re, a surprising thing occurred. Without

Mord or warning, a man stalked out of the
Hight, strode straight up to the fire, and
Scattered the brands in all directions with a

Single sweep of a heavy boot.

CHAPTER VI.
THE

Fy eLLo
* =

‘*What’s up?’’
cS
oe

** Apaches.”’

Lame Joe was the person who ut-
tered the exclamation, the interrogation
Canis from Jud, and the stranger answered
With a single word. ah
_ They had obtained a hasty survey of the
Man as revealed by the firelight before the

Tands were scattered. He was tall, well-
it, dressed in Mexican finery, and had a
andsome face, adorned with a mustache
4nd imperial of reddish-yellow, while hair
Of the same shade fell in a wavy mass upon
is shoulders.
_ truly a most pictu
Appeared. e
, ‘What’s that??? demanded Jud,
da revolver in his hand. ‘‘What do
Mean???
«What I said,’? was the quiet reply.
hay Ou, Youngsters seem anxious to lose your

“Why? Bia :

_ ‘Why!’’ echoed the unknown, with a

poneh of scorn. ‘‘The light of your fire can

“© seen a long distance on this level plain,
nd Apaches have sharp eyes.”’

., Are there réally any Apaches in this

Vicinity?”

‘You bet! The Kid and his gang are

Somewhere yarabouts, and there is a detach-

ent from Fort Apache looking for them.

the Soldiers will have lots of sport catching
© Kid, and you may go your last ounce

Sf dust on that.?’
i he stranger’s voice was musical and

pleasant, being at the same time suggestive

STRANGER.

resque individual he had

who
you

thiere3t reserve power. There was some- |

Kg in his voice and bis words that as-
“red the boys he was a friend.
gale was still somewhat bewildered, for
® appearance of the man had been most
rtling and unexpected. a
How did you come here?’” he asked.

1

4 ‘‘All right,’? came cheerfully from the
‘OU are not crossing the desert on foot?’’

‘¢Wa-al, not much.’’ ; |

‘*Where’s your horse?’’

‘*Out yon a piece.”’ |

**You left him——’’

‘“To creep up and see who was blamed
fool enough to build a fire hyar,’’ replied
the stranger, whose pronunciation was de-
cidedly Western, although his language
showed he was not illiterate. ‘‘I knew it
couldn’t be Apaches, but I ‘lowed it might |
be somebody I didn’t care to meet. Savvy?
When I saw it was two kids, I just walked
right in without being invited.’?

“‘Tf there are Injuns round, I’m glad you
did,’’ said Joe, whose teeth clicked now and
then with a suspicious sound. ‘‘I don’t want
to see any Injuns.’’

‘“Wa-al, you may see ’em if you stay
hyar.’’

“Why?”

‘‘Tt’s more than even chances the red
whelps have seen your light and are making
tracks this way now.’’
| This was enough to startle both dads.
| ‘*What can we do?’’ asked Jud.
| ‘*Get out,’’ was the reply. ‘‘And you bet
| you don’t want to waste any time about it.
| Why are you traveling with a wagon, any-
| how???
| ‘*Going to Red Horse Gulch,’’ Jud _ hast- |
|ily explained. ‘‘Gota printing outfit—in |
wagon—taking it there.’’ ;

‘*T see,’’? said’ the stranger. ‘‘ Business.
| Wa-al, you hitch up while | am getting my

hawse. Be lively about it, and I'll show
| you a place to camp to-night.’’

He departed hastily, and the boys lost no |
time in obeying his directions. With all pos- |
sible speed, the mules were hitehed to the}
wagon and the horse saddled. The thought |
that a band of murderous Apaches might |
have seen their fire and be riding toward |
them at that moment was enough to put Joe |
in a desperate flurry and make Jud a trifle )
nervous. :

They were ready to move when they |
heard the grating of sand beneath a horse’s |
hoofs, and, not being sure who approached;

 

 

o

é

Jud cocked his Winchester, ready for action. |
The starlight showed a single horse and |
rider, and, in another noment, the stranger |
was with them.
‘*Follow me,’’ was all he said. |
He taok the lead, Jud followed, the whip |
cracked, and the wagon creaked along  be- |
hind.
Twice the stranger turned to urge the boys |
to make better time, and the mules were)
scored unmercifully by the cutting lash, al-
though such a thing was quite unlike Little
Joe’s naturally gentle nature. The old wagon
rattled, creaked and complained as it
swayed along. '

The boys were excited, and both kept peer- |
ing into hd night, plainly expecting to see
a. band of Indians sweeping down upon |
them; but in this they were happily disap- |
pointed. No Indians appeared, and they |
seemed to be the only living human beings |
on the sandy desert.

They had traveled something more than a |}
mile when they struck the head of a_ bar- |
‘anca, which is~a fissure cut in a plain, |
sometimes a dry water-course, sometimes a
great gap that looks as if it had been caused
by an earthquake centuries before, and had
not quite filled up by the working of time.

This barranca was exceedingly shallow, as
compared with a great many that are to be
found in the South-west. In the day-time it
would not have been seen by a horseman
till he came right upon it, and Jud was not
a little startled when, with directions to
follow, the strange guide rode down swiftly
and disappeared. . i

Hold on!?? cried the older lad, promptly
drawing up. .

‘*Stop here, Joe!’?

The mules were stopped, and the Voice of |
the lame boy quaveringly asked:

‘‘What’s the matter?’’

‘‘Dunno,’’ replied Jud, cutting his words. |
‘“¢‘Can’t tell where our guide bas gone.”’

“*Come on,’’ called the pleasant voice of
the stranger, from the darkness below. ‘‘The |
slope is sharp, but you kin drive down hyar |
all right.’’.

‘*What sort of a place is it?’’ asked Jud, |
suspiciously. |

.

 

‘* A barranca, and a shallow one, for it’s
not more than twenty feet deep anywhar.’’
Jud resolved to go down ahead, and see if
it was all right, and, so telling Joe to wait, |
he rode forward slowly. The horse snorted
and blew through its nose suspiciously, be-
ing reluctant to descend; but Jud urged the |
creature forward, and into the barranca they |
went. The level bottom was quickly reached,
and there sat the stranger, waiting—alone. |
For a moment a suspicion that this man
might be leading them into a trap ‘had
flitted through the boy’s mind, but this was
banished when he discovered the strange
horseman alone at thé bottom of the fissure.
‘*Won’t be any trouble. about driving
down thar,’’ said the man. ‘‘The wagon can }
be turned a little farther on, and you can
drive out in the morning the same way you

cameé in.’?

.‘‘That’s all. right,’? assured Jud. ‘‘I
wanted to see about getting in first. Look!
out for my horse. I will go out and/ drive}
‘the mules down. I don’t want to trust Joe
to handle the brake there. He is lame, and.
«not very stout.’?

 

 

tranger. ‘‘Go ahead.’’

Jud flung the rein to the man, and then

to the surface he quickly ‘scrambled, and

{there he found Joe waiting in fear and
| doubt.

‘Ts that you, Jud?’’ asked the boy on the
wagon, anxiously.

‘*Sure,’’ was the cheerful reply.

‘¢Where’s your horse?’’

‘* Left him down below.”’

‘*What for???

‘tT came up to drive down for you, as [}
know about getting down there now, and I
may be able to mind the brake better.’’

‘*How can we git back after we git down
there?”’

‘‘The wagon can be turned around.’’

‘*But this type and stuff is heavy, and the
mules may not be able to drag it out.’’

‘“That’s so,’’ confessed Jud, a bit stag-
gered.

For some seconds the older: lad thought of |
this problem, and then he said:

‘*There’s a rope in the wagon, so we can
fix up a rigging to hitch another horse on.
Three animals will be able to pull the wagon
out.’

‘*T guess so,’’? said Joe, doubtfully.

‘‘ Anyhow, we’d better go down there and |
be out of the way of Injuns for the time.”’

‘“That’s so.’ .

Jud swung up to the wagon-seat, taking

| the reins from the lame boy’s hands. Before
| driving into the mouth of the fissure,
| made sure the brake worked all right.

he

‘‘Now hold fast, he directed.
‘‘Down we go.”’

Into the barranca plunged the wagon, the
brake causing one wheel to drag without
turning, and so they creaked and slid to the
bottom.

‘‘There!’’ said Jud, with a sigh of relief.
‘*We are here—safe.”’

‘¢That’s so,’’ breathed Joe. ‘‘And ’Paches
couldn’t see a fire if one was built down
here.’’

‘*T reckon that’s why thestranger brought

Joe,’’

/us here. I left him right here’ with my horse.

Where is he now?’’ ’
Where, indeed?
Neither man nor horses were to be seen!
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
oe oe

THE MAID OF THE ALPS.

——=4—

BY VICTOR ST. CLAIR.

etme pce

NHE westering sun seemed to hang like
> a ball of silver upon the crest of |
Mount Titlis, as its clear light glinted |
on the snowy surface of the lordly
mountain’s hoary forehead.

Little Gretchen Van Orden thought so as
she watched the beautiful scene, for a fine
view of the Alpine height was to be had
through Jock Pass from her mountain home.

Little Gretchen, be it known, was the
only child of a Swiss peasant who dwelt in
his native land so far from here.

She was a bright, merry-hearted maid of

{-
v

| thirteen, whose smiling countenance seemed

to partake of the sunshine of that-afternoon.

As we lave said, her home was on the
mountain side, for; her father, a venturesome
mountaineer, had sought a spot that over-
looked the fair valley below.

From his door a fine view of the little
hamlet of Imhoff was had, and a fairer
scene e’en romantic Switzerland cannot
show.

This fairy-like valley appeared a veritable
Eden, rendered uncommonly charming by
the contrast it presented to the snow-cov-
ered mountains that hemmed it in. ]

As Gretchen continued to gaze on the sur-
rounding landscape, ever and anon glancing
up the rugged pass with something like an
anxious expression upon her youthful face,
her mother joined her at the door.

‘*Whv dost thou keep thy vigil so steady,
my dear child? Art thou impatient for the
return of thy tather? Well knowest thou he
did not promise to return ere another hour.’’ |

‘*When the sun reached Titlis, dearest of
niothers. And behold e’en now it hangs on
its brow of ice.’? | :

‘Truly, my child, and your good father
will soon be here. He will come from his
hunt tired and footsore. Seest that thou art
prepared to make him comfortable. Behold
e’en now have I laid the cloth for him. So
be cheerful, my child, and his dear voice
will soon bring the rose to thy cheek.’’

‘*Mother!’’ exclaimed Gretchen, wringing
her little hands, ‘‘I can’t help thinking that
something has happened to him.’?

‘*Nay, my child, now art thou speaking of
foolish fears. Knowest not thy father’s eye
is the keenest, his arm the strongest, and his
foot the surest of all who tread the Kirchet
or scale the Wellhorn.”’

‘The bravest often meet. death soonest.
But let not my tears cause thine to flow,
dearest of mothers. See, [ smile! 1 fear
nothing,’? and she wound her arms around
her mother’s neck and kissed her,

' Nothing further was said for a time, and
an hour passed, then another, and still the’
absent one had not returned.

Gretchen was now continually at the door
maintaining an anxious watch for her father,
and her mother was beside her.

|easy, fair dame and little Gretchen.

 

**He will surely come ere long.’*.
Little Gretchen shook her head.

She had hardly spoken fer an hour, when

|swung down from the saddle. Up the incline | suddenly she exclaimed:

‘*Didst not hear that cry, mother? ’Twas
father’s voice!’’

‘‘What, my child? I hear nothing, but
well knowest thou my vars are not as keen
as once.”’ .

‘*T hear some one call for help. Hark!
there it is again! ’Tis father’s voice. Some-
thing hath befell him. I must go to him!’’

Before her surprised mother could reply,
she had fastened on her hood and with a
light staff in her hand, was about to start
up the mountain pathway.

‘‘Whither so fast, my little one?’’ ex-
claimed a cheery voice near at -hand, and
turning she saw with surprise young Alex
Zantyne, the bold huntsman, and two com-
panions from the hamlet of Imhoff.

The attention of both mother.and daugh-
ter had been so occupied that they had not
noticed the other’s approach. In a few

| words they told all.

‘‘What, good. Ulric gone since early
dawn!’’ cried Alex, quickly. ‘‘Upon the
soul of Tell, we came at a good time, Her-
man and Warno,’’ addressing his friends, ‘*I
count. on your ready aid in this hour of
need.’’

‘*Nor in vain, good Alex,’’ they replied,
together. ‘‘And see, yonder sun left long
since the snowline. Time we have not to
spare.’’

‘‘Right; follow me. Let thy minds be
Never
fear but we will speedily return with him
whom ye now miss.”’

With the words young Alex and his com-
panions started up the valley.

Gretchen would fain have followed them,
but her mother held fast upon her saying:

‘“*Your little feet cannot follow where
they will lead. Remain with me and join
thy prayers with mine that thy father may
return in safety.’’

With tear-dimmed eyes little Gretchen
watched the hardy huntsmen until they had
disappeared from sight.

Meanwhile bold Alex and his companions
turned neither to the right nor left, but fol-
lowed the narrow pathithat led up the val-
ley.

They were soon following one of the grand-
est gorges of Switzerland, where the. River
Aar had cut its own channel through the
limestone to a great depth, leaving the walls
of the chasm scooped, rounded, and polished,

A few miles below the Aar reached the
smooth barrier of limestone called the
Kirchet, which stretches across the valley
of Hasli. This dam has been cut through for
the passage of the river. Some time the
plain where now stands the hamlet of Im-
hoff was a lake made by the stopping of the
water by the Kirchet. But at last the river
cut its way,through the mountain and. the
lake thus drained left the beautiful plain.

All this, however, has little to do with
cur story. Finding no trace of the lost one,
Alex and his Companions continued on and
on, going deeper and deeper into the solitude ©
of the mountain. .

Occasionally a chamois “would beund
across their path and disappear. Otherwise
animal life seemed to be unusually quiet.

‘*Good sooth!’’ eried Alex, as they paused
upon a projecting point of ledge to scan
more closely the surrounding country, ‘‘he
must have found game scarce and wandered
far. Erah! as I live, there are his foot-
prints,’”? and he pointed to a few faintly
defined steps in the pathway. ‘‘Mark how
the toes turn out. I know those are his.”’

Alex was keen of sight and a crafty hunts-
man,.and if the others did not recognize the
foot-marks as belonging to Ulric Van Orden
they at least relied on the judgment of |
their young leader.

‘*Forward!’’ cried he; ‘‘a right good
time we shall have at friend Ulric’s expense _
when we find him.”’ :

Forward it was at a rapid pace, until at
last they found themselves far from home
with night coming on and no trace,of Ulric.
Van Orden.

‘«Missed him surely we have,’’ cried Alex.
‘“‘Long ere this has he reached his home.
We can do no better than to return.’’

**And none too soon!’’ exclaimed -stout
Herman. ‘‘See! a storm is rising.’’

‘‘And we must fly for our lives!” added

Warno. Eg
Leaving them to return from their fruit- _
less mission, let us see how the time passed
with little Gretchen. ia
At first she waited calmly, but as time
wore on she grew impatient, and het —
mother, too, became uneasy. Nie eee
Gretchen remained at the doom nearly all
the time. pe
‘‘Behold, my, dear mother, yonder sun
seeks the west. And see! the air tells of a
storm. Clouds—dark clouds—are rising.
What will become of poor father???’
‘‘Child,’? exclaimed the good woman,
somewhat out of patience with Gretchen’s
continued outbreaks, ‘‘why so much need-—
less borrowimg of trouble? Surely your
father will in good season come. Js’t not his
form I see now?’? ;
‘‘No—no, dearest of mothers.
broken tree.’’
‘*Now that I look more closely——*>
‘‘Hush! there it is again. Tis his voice— —
*tis father’s! Hear it not, mine——?? é
‘7 do! I,do!??
True enough. Borne down the narrow val-

oe tray
It’s but a

y

 
    

wv

4916

ley was the faint sound of a human voice,
as if it came from a long distance.

The slight mountain breeze had died away
so that an unnatural silence reigned.

‘*T hear again his voice!*’ cried Gretchen.
‘‘Something hath befallen him. I must fly
to him !’’

Gretchen heard tue cries twice after leav-
ing the main path, and then they no more
reached her ears.

Ere her mother could make a reply she
darted up the path which led to the moun-
tain fastness.

Gretchen had traversed the way with her
tather, however, many times, aud she knew
every inch of the wild region almost as well
as he, and that was saying much.

She followed the lonely course as fast as
her little feet could carry her, looking not
to the right or left.

yer and anon she heard the distant sup-
plications for help, and with every cry she
bounded more swiftly on until she fairly
flew.

Farther and farther she advanced;
plainer grew the cries and moans.

Once, panting for breath, she paused a
moment undecided which course to follow
where the path verged into two. Only for
an instant did she hesitate, when turning to
the left she bounded ahead.

Alex and his companions had
right hand path.

Finally she paused with a vague dread lest
she had taken the wrong course. No, she
could not have been mistaken, for the cries
had certainly come from that direction.
Again she rushed forward; and after going
a short distance once more paused.

‘Oh, father! where art thou?’’ she cried
aloud, in her despair.

As if mocking her distress, the words were
echoed back from the. mountains that rose
on either hand.

Again she bounded forward, until once
more she was fain to stop. He could not be
beyond her—he must be lower down the val-
ley. As she glanced wildly around she saw
that the storm-cloud had o’er-capped Mount
Ttlis.

She had stopped midway upon a natural
bridge that spanned the river flowing at the
bottom of the gorge. She had been there
often before and——

A sharp cry from the cliff above startled
her. Looking up she saw an ibex, standing
on a projecting ledge that overhung the
river, looking complacently down upop her.
What was that he had in his teeth, as if try-
ing to eat it? She saw at a second glance
what made her heart fairly stop its beating.

It was her father’s chamois cap!

A cry of joy escaped her lips. He must
have been there—perhaps he was even then
near by. Eagerly she looked in every direc-
tion. In the midst-of her wild search she
caught sight of a dark form lying on the
rocky bank of the stream in the gorge. It
took but a glance for her to ‘see the form
was that of her father.

How she reached ‘him she never knew, but
2 minute later she was beside his prostrate
figure.

‘*Oh, father !’’ she cried, as she chafed his
hand and caressed his brow. He lay like one
lifeless, and the single word left her lips:
‘* Dead !”?

Then as her hand was laid upon his mouth
she felt that he breathed.

‘He lives!’’ she exclaimed, joyously.

When the first transport of joy had
passed, she knew not what to do. Heshowed
no signs of returning consciousness and she
could not move him. What should she dof
In the wild abandon of her grief she called
aloud for help, until the gorge rang with
her cries,

Her joy may be imagined, when a few
minutes later a cheery voice said:

‘*Ho, my little Gretchen, it seemeth thou
hath done better than we,’’

Looking up she saw Alex and his com-
panions, who returning from their fruitless
search had heard her cries.

They quickly reached her, and ere the
tempest fell upon the mountains and valleys
with its terrible fury, they sought, with
good Ulric between them, shelter from the
war of the elements,

Unheeding the storm Gretehen knelt by
her father, who soon returned to conscions-
ness. ,

As soon as he could talk he told her and
his friends his story.

While hunting that afternoon he had pur-
sued a chamois, until coming upon a nar-
row shelf or ledge that overhung the gorge
hs suddenly found his way blocked by an
bex.

To escape by retreat was impossible and
before he could bring his yager (fire-arm) to
bear upon the creature ,it bounded toward
him.

In vain he attempted to avoid the onset.

With a blow that nearly took away his
breath he was thrown over the precipice and
went down—down into the depths below.

Fortunately he fell into.the river where
the water was quite deep, so the force of his
descent was partly broken.. Still he did not
escape without serious injuries, and he
found it all he could do to gain the rocky
bank of the stream.

He had shouted for help at intervals un-
til at last he was overcome by his injuries

yet

taken the

  

sarried home by his friends to the great joy
of his wife, who, with Gretchen, watched
over him during the long illness that fol-
lowed. :
Alex and his
often, and in

visited him
recovered,

companions
time he fully

though he always declared that Gretchen
saved his life, a compliment that she ever
returned by putting her arms around his
him

neck and calling “the dearest of

fathers.’’

[ HINGS.

EDITED BY DAVID PARKS.

   

a

HOW TO TAKE CARE: OF A BICYCLE.
PART II.

N wet weather tires should receive more
than usual care, as the liability to
puncture is much greater. It can be
=> noticed that when tires are wet, they
easily become depressed, and marks, nicks,
and splits appear on the surface of the rub-
ber. The rubber is in many cases denounced
as being of inferior quality, when in truth
the best kind of rubber is more apt to sus-
tain injuries than interior class.

Single tube tire punctures are divisible
into two distinct classes—the simple punc-
ture, which penetrates the thread or exposed
portions of the tire, singly, and the compli-
cated puncture, which not only penetrates
the exposed portion, but extends its destruc-
tive influence by wholly or partially pene-
trating that portion of the tire which is
cemented to the rim. The simple puncture is
easily treated by the ordinary repairing
methods, and the complicated puncture in
nine cases out of ten will yield to a simple
but effective treatment—namely, the inser-
tion of a liberal supply of liquid cement
through the outside puncture against the
inner injured part. This can be effectively
spread by compressing the deflated tire
together and gently rolling it by the action
of the thumb and fingers. It is better to do
this after you have your plug patch for the
outside puncture in position, as the tire can
then be quickly inflated and the cement
forced into the crevices by the powerful air
pressure. The cement tubes that have a hol-
low stem for the insertion of the liquid are
especially adapted for treating this class of
puncture.

f
Sati

STRENGTH OF FRAME.

To compare the rigidty of the bottom
brackets in two machines, the, best plan is
to get a friend to sit in the saddle of each in
turn, and press with the full force he would
exert in hill-climbing on the pedal, the
machine being held erect. and prevented
from moving forward. By stooping down
behind and getting the eye in line with the
two chain wheels, it will be fairly easy to
see whether the front chain wheel is thrown
out of truth to any material extent. The
pedal should not be at the top or at the bot-
tom of the stroke, but on a level with the
crank axle, There will then be a double-
twisting strain on the bracket. The pressure
of the foot on the pedal will tend to twist it
vertically and the pull of the chain will
tend to twist it horizontally. A simpler
but less exact way of testing the rigidity of
the bracket is to place the foot on one end
of it and shove, and see whether the tubes
which support the bracket give appreciably.
But it should be remembered that no such
thing as absolute rigidity is attainable in
the frame of a bicycle, and the object of
such tests as the above should be rather to
compare the degree of give in different
machines than to find one which has no
give at all.

Although the pedals perform much less
frictional work than the bearings of the
ground wheels, it is advisable to oil them
each time the machine is lubricated, as
pedals are generally far more liable to
gather up dust than the other bearings, and
frequent lubrication is very often the only
convenient means of keeping them fairly
clean.

USEFUL HINTS.

Tall riders, who are not fortunate enough
to possess up-to-date mounts, very often ride
with the handle-bar stem and the seat pillar
extended up to the farthest point. It is an
awful risk to ride 4 wheel thus, as there is
always a possibility of the bar coming out
altogether. A seat post should be at least
three or four inches in the socket, and two
or three inches of the handle-bar stem should
remain covered.

Riders should never go out for a day’s
journey without first wiping off the chain,
and then lubricating it with graphite or
some similar compound put up for the pur-
OSe.

The oil-hole caps on a wheel should never
be let slide around in such a manner that
dust can force its way into the bearings,
}and, with the oil, form a paste that makes
the wheel run perceptibly harder.

For wet weather, when mud is plentiful,
the chain will be better for a lubrication of
castile soap. It should be applied in the
same manner as a stick lubricant—rubbed

 

and exertion.
When the storm abated he was carefully

on the inside of the chain. The chief ad-
vantage, however, is that at the end of a

Cr OO1) > IN, Sys.

} even, that the wheel
| when such

   

journey, when the chain is pretty well
clogged, it can be easily cleaned by spong-
ing with water.

Fewer cyclists would be forced to walk or
take a train home owing to the loss of a nut
or two if they made a practice of trying
each nut before starting on a ride.

If you have occasion’ to remove the rear
wheel do not be satisfied, when you return it
to the frame, if the adjusting screws are
is’ all right. Often
is the case the wheel will run
very untrue, whereas if the Screw on one

| side is either tightened or loosened a_ little

{the wheel would be perfectly true.

|

 

saused by a slight bend in the axle.

A rider who displays sufficient ingenuity
tc have his bell on the inside of the handle-
bar, instead of on top or in front, is indeed
ararity. Yet the sole cause of bells becom-
ing cracked and out of order is the great
amount of knocking they receive. Every
time the wheel falls or is let rest against

|anything hard it is generally the bell side

of the handle-bar which is turned in, and the
bell soon loses its tone and loudness. This
would be obviated if the bell was on the in-

side, as the inward sweep of the handle-bar |

This is |
| rim, the slightest shock is

 

would protect it. Another advantage is that |

the bell could be placed on the right-hand
side, and he rung by a simple downward
pressure of the thumb.

One of the most foolish things a rider can
do is to try and propel his machine if any
balls are broken. This is quite frequent, but
can easily be told by both the hard running
of the machine and the grating noise which
will emanate from the portion of the
machine in which the break occurs. As soon
as it is discovered the wise method to. pursue
is to remove the broken parts at once, as, if
left in, they will destroy the cones by wear-
ing a groove in them. It is a simple matter
to take the bearings apart, and the absence

of a ball or two will not affect the running
of a machine greatly. The balls taken out,

though, should be replaced as soon as pos-
sible,

Whenever the brazing, at the bottom
bracket, fork crown or at top of perch tube
starts to loosen, it is a signal of distress. A
rider takes his life in his hands, to a great
extent, by attempting ‘to ride a wheel with
loose brazing, as it is only a question of a
short while before the smash occurs. As
soon as noticed it should be brought to: a
repairer—one whom you know has a good
brazing outfit and is able to rebraze it prop-
erly. If you are on the road when it first
shows itself the machine should be ridden
only as far as the nearest railroad station,

 

and only at a slow pace, as the strain on a|

machine to get up speed would
fatal to the injured parts.

The hard running of a machine is often
attributed to various causes which are: far
from right. Few riders ever think of adjust-
ing the bearings of the crank axle, and
many machines have been noticed with these
bearings far too tight for ease of running.
These bearings should he tried , frequently
and be adjusted the same as the bearings in
other parts of a bicycle. ,

When a nut repeatedly forces its way off
a screw, owing to the wearing of the thread,
it isa good plan to cover the thread with
rosin before screwing the nut tight. Before
putting on the nut, however, it should be
slightly warmed.

The creaking sound so often heard in a
bicycle emanates from the wood rim, and is
caused by loose spokes. It should be attended
to at once, as there is great liability of the
wood rim splitting, causing, .perhaps, a
serious accident.

To take off a sprocket which is fastened on
very tight, the hub should be heated and
dipped in water, and then gripped in a
vise. The sprocket should be struck, not too
hard, with a brass or copper punch, Always
be sure in such a case to have the lock screw
removed beforehand.

Bent cranks are best straightened by the
use of two large wrenches, fitting one on
each side of the bend, and bringing them
together with a firm, steady pressure.

A piece of a barb-wire fence will be found
an excellent substitute for a chain rivet in
case the chain should snap on the road. If a
link breaks it can be removed entirely. This
will shorten the chain, necessitating a read-
justment of the rear wheel,

OIL FOR LAMPS.

Take a bottle which will hold a ‘pint, fill
it two-thirds full of the best lard oil, and
the balance with head-light oil; also add a
piece of gum camphor about the size of a
small egg, which, being broken in small
pieces, easily dissolves. This preparation
gives a nice white light, does not char the
wick, and wil) not jolt out.

POINTERS.

Never have a new thread cut on a pin or
bolt if it can be avoided, as it weakens the
part which is rethreaded, and the process
means the removing of a certain amount of
metal.

There are very few wheels ridden that are
not a little bit out of true. It is not a very
easy job to true a wheel perfectly, and, un-
less the rider finds it uncomfortable in such
a condition, it should not be tampered with,
unless the machine does not steer well, or if
the rear wheel feels as if it were being
dragged. Then if the wheelman is not suffi-

probably be |
se | trous to the general appearance of the bicyele-

 

| once loosened, will soon come off.

ciently confident of his ability, a good re-
pair man should be intrusted with the job.

A true wheel is an incentive to easy run-
ning, but it is a fact that few wheels are
exactly true. Riders are satisfied if the
wheels do not touch the rim; when, if they
only knew it, the running of the wheel
could be considerably increased by the
tightening of a spoke here and there.

Another thing which is often the result of
loose spokes is a broken rim, or, if steel, a
badly bent one. This can be easily under-
stood, as the rigidity of the wheel depends
entirely on the spokes, and if these .be s0
loose as to be an insufficient support to the
liable to shatter
the rim.

A wheel should never be ridden once it
rubs against the frame in any spot, as the
tire will be quickly worn through. The
damage thus done is irreparable, and will
necessitate a new tire.

Several of the 1895 modet fad sprockets
with crank attached, which screwed onto
the axle. These are efficient and strong, but
there is one dangerous thing about them.
This is, they will not admit the rider to do
any back pedaling, as the power thus applied
will tend to unscrew the sprocket, which,
Such a
predicament, especially if coming down &
steep hill on a brakeless machine, would not
be an inviting one, as, sans pedal and brake,
all attempts to stop the momentum would be
futile, unless, of course, the rider was initi-
ated into the knack of utilizing his foot as 4
brake.

When the wire which binds the spokes
where they cross each other loosens, the
majority of riders remove the wire alto-
gether, never realizing that the advantage
derived from having tangent spokes is lost.
In a tangent-spoked wheel the strain is ré-
moved from the weakest point of the spokes
—that is, the ends where they enter the hub
and rim—and transferred to the point where
they cross. If the wire which binds them at
that point is removed, the chances of the
spoke breaking are greatly increased, and
the liability of the rim buckling is much
greater.

It is at_this season of the year that the el-
thusiastic cyclist’s thoughts turn toward the
polishing up of his faithful mount, and the
looks of many wheels are forever spoiled by
amateurs attempting to touch up and renew
the enamel. A wheel does look slovenly
when enameled in an improper manner.
should onky be done after first thoroughly
scraping off all the old enamel, and then be
laid on evenly, being careful that it is thick-
ened to the proper consistency, as, if it
be thin enough torun, the effeet will bé disas-

ee
ABSENT-MINDED.

A story used to be told many years ag?
of a merchant who was peculiarly subject
to fits of absent-mindedness. Once he wae
writing a letter, and thought that he -had
forgotten his correspondent’s first name.
Turning to one of his clerks, he said:

‘*What’s John Jackson’s first name???

The clerk, accustomed to his employer >
peculiarity, replied:

‘* John, sir.’’ ‘

The merchant wrote the letter, put it 1
an envelope, and was again at a loss. To thé
same clerk he said :'

‘‘Bxcuse me, Charles, I’ve forgotten Jolt
Jackson’s last name,’?’

But a better story than the above is told
of a gentleman who was met by a friend one
morning recently hurrying toward his home

‘‘What’s the matter?’ the friend asked. _

“Oh, I’ve left my watch under my pillo¥
and I’m going to get it.’’

‘*You’ll miss the train.”’ oh

‘Oh, no,’’? was the absent-minded mal
reply. ‘‘See, I’ve got four minutes yet;
and he pulled out his watch to enforce the
statement.

And he did not realize for several seconds
what it was that made his friend laugh
heartily.

 

 

+ oe -
MADE A MESS OF IT,

be made

Tom-~‘' Dick, what word can
shorter by adding,two letters?’’
Dick—‘‘T give it up.’’
Tom—‘‘ Why ‘short,’ of course.’’ :
Dick—‘‘That’s pretty good. I’ll spring
that on old Jones as soon as I see him.’
Dick (later)—‘‘Jones, what word can
made longer by adding two letters?’ __ ic
Jones—‘‘Why, any word. What an idiot”
question! Do you think I’m an imbeel®
But—where are you going?’’ w
Dick—‘‘I’m going to hunt up the fello’
who introduced that joke to me. There”
something wrong somewhere, I’m quite ce
tain!’

pe

a oe
HE RESIGNED THE POST.

 

There was once a cross-eyed butcher whe
was going to kill a cow, and so tha” 4
would not miss his. mark, he got a lit
Irish boy, whose name was Pat, to ho
cow’s head.

‘*Now, Pat, are you ready?’’

‘Yes, but, plaze, yer honor, are yé 8°
to hit where yer looking?”’

$¢VWeos,??

‘**Well, then, ye must get another
hold yer cow.’’

boy @

  

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{This Story Will Not be Published in Book-Form. |

THE QUAKER SPY.
A TALE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR

BY JASPER W. WILDWOOD.

“THE QUAKER Spy” was commenced in No, 203.
Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.)

CHAPTER XIX.

AN UNUSUAL SCENE IN PRIMROSE COTTAGE,

OHN ROBERTS hurried into the room
oN where Abraham Carlisle was toasting

his toes in slippers before a cheerful
G fire on a stormy. night, the very same
in which Adab and his party encamped in
the grove, on their way to Philadelphia.

‘‘Abraham,’’ he cried, ‘‘dress thee in thy
thickest clothing quickly; fill thy purse, and
prepare for a journey.’’

‘*Why, what is the matter, John?”’

*‘Matter enough. There is danger, though
L wot not what it is, The signal flashes have
been made from across the river—and they
have of course come all the way from New
Burnswick, and perhaps beyond. They are
the lights agreed upon—which mean, ‘Dan-
ger near to you! Decamp!’ I answered from
my upper window, and asked, ‘Is it press-
ing?’ Again came the same signal, ‘Danger
is near! Decamp!’ ”’

‘*Then we must be up and moving. But
you will not go alone. It is a splendid night
to make the girl captive. That done, we
three can cross to Camden, and ride swiftly
to New Brunswick, where we will be safe
while we learn what the danger is.’’

“Thou art right, Abraham. I will hasten
to prepare three horses, and thou wilt be
ready when I bring them into thy back-yard
with the disguises. There is a narrow alley
back of Primrose Cottage, where. we can
leave our horses while we enter the house
through a rear window. The maiden and
her aunt retire early, so that if we surprise
them we can secure and gag both, and while
we leave the aunt to her meditations, wecan
carry off Naomi easily.’’

‘Vea, John, thou hast the right idea. Be
Sure now that the spirit faileth not when
the real work comes on.’’

‘*Rear not, Abraham. We play for heavy
Stakes, as the world’s people say, and | will
hot falter. I will hasten for the horses. Be
thou ready when I return.’’

‘Yea, I will be prepared in a short season.
Yarry not.’’

Away flew John Roberts, and Abraham
Carlisle hurried to a closet and took out two
rough suits of heavy clothing, such as were
worn by laboring men or teamsters in win-
ter. One of these suits he hastily exchanged
for the one he had on, and after dressing
himself in it, be took a heavy purse of gold
from a pocket of his other suit and secured
it én his person.

He also went to the same closet and took
two brass-mounted pistols, and placed them
in the large pockets of the rough coat which

@ now wore. From a pocket in the same
Coat he took a black mask, and when he had
put a slouch hat on his head his disguise
Was complete.

Looking at himself in a large oval mir-
Tor, he muttered:

‘*No one could
this disguise!’

A moment later John Roberts entered, but
® started back in alarm when he saw such
4 rough-looking stranger there in the place
of Abraham Carlisle.

‘*Be not afraid, Friend John—it is only
I,” said Carlisle, in his proper tone of
Voice.

‘Verily, [ thought if was Satan himself,’’
Said Roberts, amazed at the change in his
friend’s appearance.

**Lay thine own garments aside and put
MU these, and thou wilt be as much altered
48 I,’? said Carlisle. ‘‘Hasten, for it is al-
Teady late, and we must secure the girl and
98 Out of the city before dawn. It will not
lo for us to be discovered here, masked and
armed.’?

He pointed to the other suit as he spoke,
4nd John Roberts took off his Quaker suit
Ma hurry, and put on the other clothes.

In less than ten minutes he was garbed
4nd armed in the same manner as Abraham
Carlisle, Then, putting their Quaker clothes
N a couple of pairs of saddle-bags, only ex-
“epting the hats, which they had to leave

ehind, the two wolves blew out the light
4nd left the house.

In an alley in the rear the horses were
Sed, and leading one, they mounted the

“hers and rode swiftly along the Geserted
Streets until they reached an alley which
‘tretched along in the rear of the home of
40mi Bliss.
arere they dismounted and. secured their
orses, Then opening a small gate, they
Passed into the yard in the rear of Primrose
bar 28° There was no light visible below,
sti] in a chamber on the upper floor a light
“ll threw its gleam through the curtained

indow

A aig oot isthe chamber of the maiden,’’
ey Jobn Roberts, in a hoarse | whisper.

possibly identify me in

 

 

‘*Petrunia Stone sleeps below, in a bedroom
off from the sitting-room.’’

‘*Could we not enter the chamber from |
that piazza roof outside, and seize and carry |

 

off the maiden before her aunt awakes be- |
low?’’ asked Carlisle.
‘“Yea, it might be done, if we acted

quickly. The window must be broken in

and she taken up just as we find her, for if | lains leadeth toward New Brunswick, and

we give her a moment’s time she will alarm

| the neighborhood.’’

‘John, it is our best plan. It will look
more like the work of ruffians, and no sus-
picion will attach to us, even though our
absence may be noted.”’

‘*Well, go thou first on the roof. Thou |
canst ascent by that strong lattice work.’

**T will go first, John, but do not thou fail
to follow. If thou art treacherous or faint-
hearted, and J have to shoot. at any one, I |
will make thee my target!’

‘*Tut, tuf—don’t talk that way. If thou
doubtest, I will lead the way. But thou art
the lightest.’’

‘*True; it is so,’’ said Carlisle, and he at
once clambered lightly up on the roof of |
the veranda.

John Roberts almost instantly followed
him, and stealthily they crept up to the
window, A small part of the curtain was so
drawn aside that they could peep in. There
sat Naomi, not yet disrobed, reading the
Bible. None but fiends could look on her
pure and lovely face, contemplate her in
her innocence and beauty, thus piously en-
gaged, and meditate wrong to the helpless
girl.

Yet those two fiends, base hypocrites,
looked on her without one spark of manly
feeling, and prepared to dash in upon her,
and break the peace of sthat touching and
beautiful scene.

One moment only they hesitated, then |
Abraham Carlisle said in a whisper: ‘*‘Now
—and together !’’

 

it went crashing inward.
With a’wild shriek, Naomi rose to her |
feet and rushed toward her chamber door,
but John Roberts, bounding like a tiger on
its prey, grasped her slender form in his
brutal arms, and hissed out: |
‘*Now thee shall know’who is master!’
‘*Murder!
stricken girl. |
‘* Adab Slocomb is not here to help thee |
now !’’ eried the vile wretch, forgetting to!

 

help!’?

change his tone, and she knew who it was | Brunswick.

that bore her struggling to the window, |
where Abraham Carlisle waited to receive |
her.

her over the edge of the veranda.
as shriek after shriek broke from her lips,
he cried out:

‘Drop her! Drop her, so I can gag her, or
choke her into silence!”’

Brutally, Carlisle let go his hold, and the
girl fell, but Roberts was there to catch her
and break the force of the fall.

At the same instant a lower window
opened, and the voice of Petrunia Stone
was heard,

‘‘Aunt! John Roberts has got me!”
shrieked Naomi, and then a brutal blow
struck her senseless, and she made no more
outery, while the ruffians, bearing her
along, fled to their horses.

‘Poor Petrunia rent the air with her skrieks
as she heard the horses gallop away, but
though the whole neighborhood was now
aroused, it was too late. Naomi and her ab-
ductors ‘were gone—no one could tell where.

Messengers were sent in every direction;
Hannah Slocomb came quickly to try and
comfort poor Petrunia Stone, and many who
would not at first believe thatsuch godly men
as John Roberts and Abraham Carlisle could
appear to be in Meeting, had aught to
do with this daring and shameful abduction,
went to the houses of both men and found
that they bad left in haste, for their rooms
were in dire disorder.

All that day, over the usually quiet city,
nothing was talked of or thought of but
this new and dastardly outrage.

 

CHAPTER XX.
THE PURSUIT.

ITH his horses nearly used up,
Adab conducted his partys to the
White Horse Tavern, thereto put
up their horses and get supper,

while he rode home to put up his own horse

and make inquiries which would enable him
quietly and speedily to arrest those for whom
he had been sent.

He found his mother and Petrunia Stone
at the house, and learned to his horror and
agony what had taken place. At the same
time his mother handed him a scrap of
paper, and said:

‘A boy soldier, who looked too slender
and fragile to endure fatigue, rode bither
two hours gone by and told me to give thee
this.’’

Adab read these lines:

 

‘‘The traitors were signaled of their dan-
ger, and have.escaped carrying with them

CGoOoD NEWS.

| George Washington hath taken such note of

i those vile miscreants,

| cure the traitors.

| the escort, and entering the lines of the
Both the men threw their heavy forms | enemy at New Brunswick to try and dis-
against the slender sash, and in a@n instant | cover and aid Naomi to escape, even if he

shrieked the terror- | tavern for the party, bidding them rest un-
| til morning,

| breathe and feed his horse, and pet some

‘*Quick! Leap down and be ready to eatch | nourishment for himself. He made inquiry
her in thy arms,’’ cried Carlisle, as he heid | there if any parties had passed belonging to
, | his sect, for Petrunia Stone had only heard
Roberts was already on the ground, and | the voice of Naomi aud John Roberts, and
| did not know the disguises of the latter and

| passed in the night if he took that road.

 

what I have just learned is your heart’s
dearest treasure. I bave found their track—

 

   

4917

 

it leads to New Brunswick. I will recover
Naomi Bliss for you if I die in the attempt.
‘* Your true friend,
‘*‘WASHINGTON AND GLORY.’’

‘*The blessing of the Almighty be on his
head!’’ cried Adab, pressing the letter to
his lips. ‘‘But he says the track of the vil-
alone he hath followed it. I, too, will take
it???

‘*Thee will go into the presence of the en-
emy and thy life will be in danger. For
thou art known by name and person, since

thy good conduct.’’ said Hannah Slocomb.

‘*Is not Naomi Bliss worthy of the peril of
my life—yea, more, a thousand times to
me??’ cried Adab. ‘‘And have I not the
orders of George Washington to pursue
John Roberts and |
Abraham Carlisle, and to arrest them as
traitors to our holy cause?’’

‘*Yea, and Heaven will help thee!’” cried |

 

Petrunia Stone, sobbing as she spoke. ‘‘ The |
Father above will aid thee to save our
Naomi from deadly wrong.”’

‘*| hope so. Fare thee well, dear mother,
and good Petrunia Stone. Look not for me
until I can restore Naomi to your arms.”’

And Adab hurried out, remounted his
horse, and rode swiftly to the White Horse
Tavern.

There he had a long conference with the
sergeant, and he also wrote a letter to Gen-
eral Washington, for he had decided to serd
the escort back, since the two Quakers had
doubtless gone so far that pursuit would be
useless. They had had abundant time to
reach New Brunswick, and once there only
strategy could avail to rescué Naomi or se-

dear |

So Adab determined to set out alone on a
fresh horse, sending his own steed back with

could do no more.

He arranged witb the sergeant a code of
signals, if Washington should send any
party to aid him, by which their vicinity
might be made known, and to which he
could reply, if reply was possible.

This done, he paid the reckoning at the

while he at midnight rode
away, crossing the river above Gloucester
Point, and taking the nearest route to New

All night he rode on, meeting no one, and

at down he halted at a farm-house to

Carlisle.

The woman of the house said that not far
from noon on the previous day, two men in
rough, shaggy clothes, and a woman
wrapped in a long mantle, had ridden past
without stopping. Their horses seemed
jaded, as if they had been hard pressed in
travel.

This was all\the woman could tell. She
was a patriot—her husband was even then
with Washington. ;

Adab felt sure he was on the right track,
for it would have been natural for the men
to-disguise themselves in other clothes. The
woman was seen riding between the two,
and evidently she, as a captive, would be
thus guarded.

Nothing had been seen of the young Con-
tinental soldier at this house. He must have

Adab rested an hour under this hospitable
reof, while his horse had a substantial feed,
and he partook of a good breakfast, for he
did not intend to draw rein again until New
Brunswick was in sight.

The;woman gave him the name of a Friend,
a farmer within a mile of the town, who
could be relied on as a patriot, for he was
her uncle on her mother’s side, though her
mother had married outside of the sect.

Refreshed, Adab mounted again: shortly
after sunrise and rode on at a steady gait,
intending to reach the vicinity of the town
at an hour which would enable him to enter
it under cover of darkness.

Twice only he paused at houses on the
wayside to make inquiry. At one he learned
that a young Continental soldier had passed
some three hours before him, and there also
the two strange men and a woman had been
seen, but it was near nightfall on the day
before.

At the next house where he called for in-
formation he was rudely rebuffed, and the
conduct of the mart who told him to mind
his own business as he did satisfied Adab
that this person was a friend to those whom
he was pursuing, and doubtless had har-
bored them on their journey.

He did ride on, but he took note of that
man’s location, thinking the future tide of
war might bear him that way, and he
might repay his scant courtesy.

It was just the change from light to twi-
light when Adab reached the house of Isaac
Stacy, the Friend to whom he had_ been
commended.

He found the worthy Quaker much mys-

| away,

| who needeth me, to do a

 

tified and greatly angered. He had received
is a guest aft dinner a young Continental

soldier, whose horse yet remained in his
stable, but while he had gone by request of
this soldier to the town to make certain in-
quiries regarding two persons who had come
from Philadelphia with a female, this
young soldier: had gone, he knew not
whither, having in his company Deborah,
Tsaac’s young and comely daughter.

At least, both of these persons were miss-
ing, and, the strangest of all, the young sol-
dier had left his uniform in the room al-
lotted fo him to wash in. What had he worn
Isaac could not tell, since his hired
mab was in the field, his wife away at
meeting, and no one had seen Deborah and
the young soldier leave.

That they had gone together was evident
from this line left by Deborah on her dress-
ing-table:

‘‘FATHER:— Neither thee nor mother need
fret about me. I have gone away with one
good action, of
which thou wilt approve when I return.

‘““Thy loving daughter,
‘*DEBORAH,’’

Adab partially set the mind of the good
old Quaker at rest by stating truly that the
young soldier was in quest of Naomi Bliss,
and relating the history of her abduction,
and that Deborah, when told of it, had in
her sympathy offered to go as a guide and
assistant in the work of rescue.

‘*Thee takes a kindly view of it,’’ said
Isaac Stacy. ‘‘I can hardly believe that my
Deborah would elope with a stranger, and
he a soldier, for she hath ever been a good
and dutiful child. When thee gets ready. to
go to the town, I will go with thee as thy
friend and guide; and perchance we may
fallin with the missing ones. My ‘heart
will misgive me if my Deborah hath done
wrong.”’

‘*We will go at once, as soon as I have
seen my horse fed and bedded down,’’ said
Adab. ‘‘The merciful man is merciful to his
beast.’’

‘*Yea, and that thou mayst have strength
to pursue thy mission, my _ wife shall set
out the table and we will eat before we start
for the town. For the British occupy all
houses of entertainment there, and men in
thy garb and mine are treated with scant
courtesy.’’

‘‘Tam at thy disposal since thou’ hast
kindly consented to go with me inside the
lines of the enemy. Thy presence will bea
protection to me, since thou art doubtless
well-known there.’’

‘*Yea, it is even so,’’ said Isaac Stacy.

It was nearly two hours after dark when
Isaac Stacy and Adab passed. within the
British lines, carrying some eggs and butter
in two baskets, making trade a pretext for
the visit.

CHAPTER XXI.
AN APPEAL FOR SYMPATHY.

co HEN Naomi Bliss was struck silent
and senseless by a cruel blow on
the temple from the brutal hand
we of John Roberts, she was rend-
ered helpless for the time. She was then
hastily borne out to where the horses were
left, was fastened on the side-saddle of one,
and held up between the two ruffians as they
galloped away out of the town.

Crossing the river on the solid ice, the
keen, fresh air brought her back to con-
sciousness, and when the horses landed on
the Jersey shore she was able to speak, and
indignantly denounced John Roberts, whom
she had recognized by his disagreeable and
hated voice.

‘‘Thee is wasting thy breath, Naomi,’’
said Roberts, after she paused in her bitter
rebuke. ‘‘Thee is in my power, and there is
no escape for thee. Thou wilt sleep thy next
slumber within the British lines, where
thou must consent to become my wife.’’

‘*T would die a thousand times before I
gave such consent. And I will live to see
thee, and thy consort in evil here, even
Abraham Carlisle, swinging from the gal-
lows-tree!”?

‘Thee hadst better bridle thy tongue or
‘we will do it for thee!’’ cried Carlisle, who
till now was not aware that she had recog-
nized him.

‘*Ye can add murder to the outrage al-
ready committed,’’ she answered, defiantly :
‘“but the Lord who knows thy guilt will
not let the guilty escape. In Him I trust for
deliverance, for to Him have I called in my
hourjof need.’’

The men made no answer, but each hold-
ing a rein of her bridle, they dashed swiftly
on over a level road that led northward, as
she could see by the polar star in front of
them.

On in silence now, through the long, long
night—on when day bréke, stopping nowhere
for many, many weary miles, until poor
Naomi felt as if she would die in the saddle
to which they had securely bound her,

At last, when it was nearly night, they
halted at a house—the same where Adab
afterward met his rude repulse—and here
Naomi was lifted from the saddle and ¢ar-
ried into the house, for she was unable to
stand.

She saw no one of her own sex, only a
man who was evidently a friend and agent
of her abductors, for she heard them talk of
signals he had sent on the night before, and

   

  
Naomi.

forget afterward.”’

- eried Naomi. ‘‘I need rest, and let me have
4 ” ‘

he

4918

which caused them to leave Philadelphia
much earlier than they had intended.

She was urged to take food and drink
here, but she refused; weak as she was,
dreading that she might be drugged and
rendered even more helpless than she was.

They tarried here till after dark, and:then,

with their horses rested and strengthened |

by feed, they moved on again, riding into a
town occupied by red-coated British soldiery
after night had set in.

Before entering the town, John Roberts
had told her, in a tone which made her
sbudder from head to foot, that if she made
the least outcry, he would cut her throat
from ear to ear, and he had significantly
shown a long, sharp knife hidden under his
waistcoat, ready to do the deed.

Along the streets of this town they rode a |
little way, and halted at a stone house which |

stood near a river, for she saw water gleam-

ing in the lamp-light, and here she was |
taken from her saddle again and carried in.

She was left in a,chamber which overlooked
the river, but the only window was a nar-
row. one, with but six panes of glass, two on
a side, anda heavy iron bar down the centre

made the window safe from ingress and |
proof against egress, even with so slender a |

form as hers. _ : ;

John Roberts and a hard-featured, elderly
woman, with a light, took her to this room,
and the former said:

‘‘Here thou wilt tarry, undisturbed, for
the night. Thou mayst.as well eat of the
food this woman will bring thee, that thou
mayst have strength to journey to New

York, whither we go shortly, and where
thou wilt decide whether to be my wife by
inclination or force.’’

Naomi made no reply, but sank weeping
and exhausted into a chair.

Roberts and the woman went out, locking
the heavy ;oaken door behind them, and
then Naomi sobbed out, in the bitterness, of
despair :

“Oh, Lord, hast Thou deserted me?’’

She wept and prayed by turns, till a noise
—the unlocking of her door—aroused her at-
tention.

_ It was the woman ‘she ‘had seen. before,
bringing in food and warm tea.

You must eat,’’ she said, ina tone that
was not unkind, though it was gruff and
stern. ‘‘You are very weak now, and will
grow weaker if you do not take food.’” |

‘*T care not. I would rather die than live
a captive in the power of bad mten,”’’ said

The woman sighed, and put the food ona
small table, and placed that in: front of
Naomi.

That sigh gave the poor girl a glimpse

ope.
Gould she work on that®woman’s sym-
pathy, or even her avarice? She would try.
‘‘Tf [ eat a little, will you stay here and
keep me company? I am terribly lonesome. ’?
**1’ll stay while you eat,’’ said the woman.
‘But they who have hired me will want me
back soon. I have their supper to get.’
Naomi tried to swallow a few mouthfuls,
_ but it was hard work. She had no appetite.
_ Meantime she studied that woman’s face.
_ She could read no sign of pity or womanly
' feeling there, but in her small gray eyes, in
her pinched face, she saw a look which
either denoted want, or avarice, she could
hardly decide which.
‘©You are not rich?’’? Naomi said, at last.
““No; I would not be a servant to others
if I was,’’ said the woman.
‘Save me from the dreadful fate which
my persecutors design me, and I will make
you rich,’’ said Naomi, in a low, earnest,
pleading tone.
‘*How? You have no riches here, nor can
you command them.’’ ay
+ ‘Tf IT was free, I could put twenty thou-
sand hard dollars in your lap.’’ |
‘*You could—but would you?’’ said the
_woman, with a cold, calculating look.
‘‘Wolks promise, while they are in need, and

—‘*But I will not forget. Help me to get
away, and go with me and’ leave me not till
thou art paid.’?

John Roberts, who had been listening at

the door, strode in, and said to the woman,
sternly : ‘ ee

_ ‘Martha, thee has listened to the romance
_of this girl long enough. She can never lay
her hand on a dollar; it has already been
declared confiscated to the king. Go attend
‘to thy duties. I will bear the maiden com-
patty since she is so lonesome.’ ;

_ ‘In mercy leave me, thou second Satan !??

‘**T will accede to thy wish, but beware
how thou dost attempt to tamper with any
whom I employ. I tell thee once for all,

thee cannot escape from me alive. If thou

diest thou art free from me, and not till

then !?? said John Roberts, sternly.

_ ‘Then the sooner death comes to relieve
me from this wretchedness the better !’? said
Naomi, sdbbing again. ois

Roberts made no reply, but followed the

woman out, locking the door himself \when
he closed it. :
In desperation, Naomi tried to wrench the
_ iron bar from, the centre of the window, for
could she have done it, she would ‘have
thrown herself out rather than remain there
at the mercy of the wretch who had torn
her from ber home. But it resisted all her

‘of |

\in fun.

GooDp

NEWS.

‘efforts. She next examined the door, and to| this story would never have been written | hard rind, and then had to work carefully

be. strongly |
and a wooden |
each side, |

her joy she found that it could
secured inside by an iron bolt,
| bar, which, placed in hasps on
/added to its security.

‘‘At least Ican protect myself from intru- |
sion while I sleep,’’ she said.

And now, faint and weary, she threw |
herself on the bed, without disrobing, and
breathing a silent prayer, she resigned her-
self to slumber.

And it was the sleep of one almost worn
out—sound, dreamless, and heavy. When she
| awoke the sun was shining in through the |
| narrow window, showing that it looked east-

ward, for the sun was hardly yet above the
tree-tops on the farther bank of the river.

She looked out, and saw tnat only a nar-

row street or strip of land separated the house
from the river, on which boats were al-
| veady moving to and fro, mostly rowed by
men in the British uniform.

While she gazed out, she saw two women
| passing slowly on, looking up at the house
| with earnest expressions on their faces, as if
they were looking for some one. Both were
| dressed in the simplest style, and evidently
belonged to her sect. She longed to cry out
and attract their attention, but at that mo-
ment a tremendous knocking at the door of
her chamber drew her attention from the
women, one of whom seemed to see and
notice her earnestly.

Naomi ran to the door and asked who was
there. .

‘*Tt is I, John Roberts. How darest thou
to lock thyself in, when it is thy breakfast
hour? This is thy second day of sleep!’?

‘¢*Thee can go away; I need no breakfast.
There is a portion of my supper left yet,’’
said Naoml.

‘‘Thee hadst better open, or I will bat-
ter down the door!’’ cried John Roberts, in
a fearful rage.

At that instant, while he was yet knock-
ing at the door, a small stone with a paper
affixed to it,-came through the window-
| pane. se ;

Naomi, with a thrill of, hope, ran and
picked it up.

‘*TIf Naomi Bliss is a captive there, let
her wave her hand through the window.
Help is near !”’

These words were written in pencil on the
paper.

Quickly Naomi ran to the window, and
though she cut her wrist on the broken glass,
she gave the required signal.

» At the same moment the door, beaten

 

Roberts, was broken in.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)

Collect your bicycle coupons.
closes March 21. You may be one of the
thirty fortunate winner's.

te 8 me

BY REX ROYLSTON.

ee

, if you can’t manage the bear
rselves, I suppose I shall have
to show you how to doit.’’ |
A shout of laughter followed
these words, which were really uttered half
But it seemed to Jack Wilton that
the laughter was unduly prolonged, and had
a mocking ring in it which nettled him. So,
springing to his feet, with eyes flashing and
cheeks burning, he burst out hotly:

‘*T don’t care how much you laugh. As
sure as ’m standing here, I’ll put a bullet
in that bear before this time to-morrow
night?’

At this his brothers only laughed the
louder, and filled the room with, sarcastic
shouts of:

‘‘ Hurrah for the Bantam !’’ ‘‘T’1l bet on the
bear.’’ ‘‘What will you take for his skin,
Bantam??? until] Mr. Wilton silenced them
with a reproving look, and drew Jack to
him, saying, soothingly :

‘*Don’t mind them, Jack; and don’t let
your temper betray you into making rash
vows that you cannot keep.’’

Jack Wilton sat down again sulkily, and
soon after went to bed. *

- He was the youngest in a family of six
sturdy boys, and consequently came in for
much more than he thought a fair share of
good-natured ridicule from his big brothers.

‘They were all fond enough of him, but
they had a perhaps not altogether mistaken
idea that Jack was inclined to think too
much of himself, and so they took pleasure
in ‘‘putting him down,’’ as they called it,

On his part, Jack did his best not to be
‘*put down,’ and in consequence of his fiery
outbursts he had got nick-named the ‘‘ Ban-
tam’? by his brothers.

The youngster was rather small for his
age, and was therefore easily beaten in
nearly all their trials of skill and strength-—
not quite all, however, for mucb to his sat-
isfaction he could hit the bull’s-eye chalked
out on the big barn door twice as often as
the best of them; and no small comfort did
his skill in shooting give him, jean

Nevertheless, in his arfxiety to prove him-
self his elder brothers’ equal, he was con-
stantly attempting all sorts of reckless and
foolhardy performances,

from its hinges and fastenings by John |

“BANTAM” THE BEAR-SLAYER.

 

 

But on the following morning Jack Wil-
ton’s temper had vanished; and probably

had not Tom, his eldest brother, the moment
he appeared, called out, mockingly :
‘*Behold the mighty hunter! Make way

| for Bantam the bear-slayer !”?

The chorus of laughter that greeted this

| sally set him in a blaze again; but this time

he held his tongué, and the
stopped.

The mischief was done, however. Jack felt
that he would rather die than turn back
now.

Determined to keep his purpose secret, he
waited about the house until all the others
had gone off. Then, taking down his gun,
he put half a dozen biscuits into his pocket,
and, with well-filled powder-flask and bullet-
pouch, slipped off unobserved toward the
forest, his faithful ally Tiger—a dog, half
foxhound half bull-terrier—following close
at his heels.

lt was a glorious day in December. A

teasing soon

‘week of intense cold had been succeeded’ by

afew days of milder weather, and over all
the trees the frost had thrown a fairy garb
of white that sparkled brightly in the morn-
ing sun, The air was just cold enough to be
bracing, and, the spotless snow crunched
crisply under his feet as he walked rapidly
over it.

Soon he had climbed the hill pasture, and,
with one look backward at his home, Jack
Wilton plunged into the dense undergrowth
that bordered the vast Canadian forest.

The snow lay pretty deep in the woods,
but his snow-shoes made the walking easy.

forest, its shadows began to cool his ardor
and his inclination to turn back grew
greater’ every moment, so that his pride
had hard work. to keep his courage up to
the mark.

Presently he came to an open glade, almost
circular, and about fifty yards across, walled
in on all sides by tall, dark pines and som-
bre hemlocks.

Tiger, who had been carefully scrutinizing
every paw-print, but following up, none, as
he saw that his master was evidently not
after small game that day, now bounded off
along the edge of the forest. ;

Suddenly,he stopped short, snuffed fiercely
at a track in the snow, and then with sharp,
eager barks rushed over to the foot of a tree
just opposite.

His master stood motionless for a moment,
feeling sure that nothing less than a_ bear-

trail could have caused the dog’s excitement. |
What if it were the immense bear of which |
his father and brothers had been talking! |
| the top, he noticed that the bear was d@& ~

It must be confessed that the thought

/ made him tretnble for a moment, in spite of |
| bis courage. But he soon recovered himself, |
The contest |
| across to the dog.

and grasping his gun tightly, he hurried

The latter was standing by a_ bare tree
trunk that stood out gaunt and gray in
marked contrast to its surroundings—evi-
dently the ruin of a magnificent pine, which
in days gone by had paid for its pre-emi-
nence by being struck by lightning.

Only some twenty feet now remained, and
the, poor headless stump was apparently hol-
low and rotten to the roots, for deeply scored
upon. its barkless sides were the signs of its
being nothing more or less than a_ bear’s
den. :

Jack’s gun was loaded with an extra
charge of powder and two good bullets. He
put on a fresh cap, and made sure every-
thing was in good order and took his stand
a few yards off to await the result of
Tiger’s challenge. ,

finute after minute crept slowly by, but
not a sound came from the tree.

At last, Jack could stand it no longer.

Looking up, he saw that the branch of an
adjoining tree projected right over: the hol-
low trunk, and he resolved to investigate it.

So, taking off his snow-shoes, and laying
his gun down, he climbed up until he
reached the branch, along which he pro-
ceeded carefully until he was right over the
cavity, into which he peered eagerly.

‘Why, there’s nothing at all in it,’ sai
he, laughing to Tiger, who had been eagerly
watching his proceedings,

Accordingly, he was just beginning to re-
trace his course, when, without the slightest
warning, the branch on which he stood
broke off short, precipitating the boy to the
very bottom of the hollow trunk, where he
lay senseless. wi

How long he remained in that state, Jack
never knew. But when he at length recov-
ered consciousness, he was much relieved to
find that he had escaped without any broken
bones in consequence of the accumulation of
rotten wood on which he lay, which had
broken the fall.

Nevertheless, his situation was serious.
For he was shut up in the heart of the tree,
which he was utterly unable to ascend, and
miles away from home and help; with only
a few biscuits, and no water to assuage his
already increasing thirst; and, to crown all,
the certainty that the bear would soon re-
turn, while he had no other weapon of de-
fense than the hunting-knife, which fortu-
nately still hung at his,belt!

‘<Well, I must do something,’’? said Jack
to himself, after a while, ‘‘and, as I can’t

climb out, suppose I try to cut my way

through the trunk.’’

At first if was easy enough, for the soft,
decayed wood offered little opposition to the
keen blade. But presently he reached the

 

 

for fear’of snapping the steel off short.

Jack must have spent at least an hour
thus, when, to his delight a hard blow sent
the knife-blade clean through the wood.

At it he went again without stopping,
until he had a jagged hole through which he
could put his head. If the bear did not come
for a couple of hours more, he would be
free. :
The moment he put out his hand, Tiger ”
caught sight of it, and came delightedly
leaping up against the tree.

Suddenly Tiger sprang
wildly.

‘‘What's the matter, old dog?’’ cried~
Jack; but a look answered his question. The
bear had returned.

-Growling fiercely, the huge brute sham-
bled rapidly toward them. The next minute
Tiger had sprung at his throat.

But the bear was too quick for him, and
with one sweep of his great fore paw sent
his puny opponent rolling over in the snow.

Little hurt, and much wiser for this rebuff,
the dog attacked from behind, and bit so —
sharply and quickly that his opponent, in _
self-defense, reared up on his hind legs, —
ready to wheel round and drop on the dog at
the first opportunity. ,

For minutes (which to Jack seemed hour's) -
the nnequal contest went on. More than»
once the bear disgusted at his inability to —
crush his agile adversary, attempted to 7
climb the tree. But the instant he turned

back, barking

|his back the dog flew at him, and with a—
Yet as he pushed on into the lonely, silent |

fierce snarl, down he dropped to renew the
conflict.

Suddenly, with a thrill of horror, Jack
saw that-Tiger’s sharp teeth had caught in
the bear’s shaggy fur, and that he could not
free himself. :

The bear wheeled swiftly round upon bim.
One instant more, and the huge, pitiless
paws had him in their grasp at last.

There was an awful moment of silence—_
then a quick, half-smothered cry, a barsh,
exultant roar, and out of that fatal embrace
the brave, faithful dog dropped, to the
ground, a lifeless mass.

For a while the bear sniffed curiously at
his victim, turned him about with his great
paws, and seemed to be exulting over his |
victory. But when, having satisfied his-
pride, the brute turned to climb the tree,
Jack felt that his hour had come.

Firmly grasping his*knife, the keenness of -
which had, alas! been spent upon the tough
wood, he stood atvaiting his fate. \

Watching closely the narrow opening at
scending, tail foremost, Foot by foot be®
came slowly down, striking his long, sharp
claws deep into the spongy wood, his hug®-
bulk completely filling the passage. | f

All at once, as if by inspiration, an idea
flashed into Jack’s brain, at which he

| grasped as a,drowning man might grasp a6

a straw.

The bear was now close to his head, He
waited until he had descended one step
more, then reaching up both hands and tak-
ing a firm grip of his soft yielding fur, he
shouted at the top of his voice. ae

For one harrowing moment the bea! -
paused, as though paralyzed, — an

‘Heaven help me if he drops!’? thought |
Jack. ‘ ,° a
Then, with a wild spring, he started uP- |
ward,. dragging the boy after him, Putting
forth all his vast strength, he scramble ene
straight up that hollow shaft, Jack holding ~
on like grim death. ’

In a few seconds they were at the tops
and with a joy beyond all description, Ja¢
emerged into the daylight. No sooner did
the bear reach the rim of the tree, than he
swung himself over, and plunged headlon8
downward. ;

At that moment Jack let go and tried f0—
make the descent more slowly; but the T@ —
action was too great. His senses left him»
and he tumbled in a heap at the foot of the
tree. , mek sa

In that condition Mr. Wilton found bit
just before sunset, and although.the deeP
snow had rendered the fall harmless, thé
strain and shock had told so heavily upo™
him that many long weeks passed before be
had entirely recovered. :

> + o> -

i i INGENIOUS.

The latest opposition to manual labor
comes not from stéam power, but from the
modest little mouse. A Scotchman one eve
ing recently sat looking at some mice, W ;
an idea struck him. He decided to. set a
little thieves at spinning yarn, and it be!
probably a very astonished pair of mice tha
found themselves a few days later work
a small treadmill in a cage like th®
which rats and other small animals are 7
but without the slightest idea that they W¢
paying for their board in this way. T ont
genious Scotty found from calculation tht
an ordinary mouse can twist over a hune!™
threads on spools every day, although 0
this he has to run ten and a half miles.
0

He—‘‘T don’t believe Mrs, Jones is
bright as she pretends to be.”
She—‘*Why?”? ae
He—‘‘ Jones told me this morning that)
wife had given him a piece of her min
night, but he was just as stupid as ever
oe

ws

half ‘as

 
LIVELY TIMES AT EBB TIDE.

BY ARTHUR SEWALL,

DASHLEIGH’S ACADEMY DAys’”’ was com-

Back numbers can be obtained of

all News Agents.)
CHAPTER XXXIV.
THE RESCUE OF BESSIE WINSOME,

HE shrill scream from the interior of
y the hut brought both boys to a sud-

den halt, then with one accord they
: ran up tothe door at their utmost

' Speed.

Gay was in advance. Grasping the knob
he gave it a fierce tug, but it resisted his
effort. Turning to Paul, he made a signifi-
Cant gesture. Not a word was spoken. Kach
Tecognized the necessity of immediate action.

_ Placing their shoulders to the wooden
panel they sent it crashing inward. Bound-
ing through the opening thus afforded they

Saw a young girl with pale, frightened face,

and Rohiveed hair lying prostrate upon the

®arthen floor: It was Bessie Winsome.

Bending over her was a_ hideous old hag

’ With a face and hands the color of worn
leather. The woman clutched a cruel-looking

Tawhide whip with which she was evidently

threatening the girl.

She turned upon the intruders with an
angry snarl. A glad cry of joy came from
Bessie, and she scrambled to her feet, elud-
Ing her captor.

‘Gay! Thank Heaven you are here! Save
Me from this horrible woman!’?

“See to her, Paul, while I manage that

She-cat,’’? exclaimed Gay, springing upon

old Nancy.

_ He was just in time. The hag had sidled
_ toward a table upon which rested a single-
barreled shotgun. As she made a grasp for

it Gay caught ber arms, and there ensued a

desperate struggle.

The negress was as strong as a man, and

She fought like a wildcat. The scrimmage

Would have undoubtedly resulted in her

favor if Paul had not taken part. Picking

Up an old rope in one corner of the room he

Made a skillful cast and fastened her arms

‘to her side.

Then he and Gay completed the task by
Wrapping her from head to foot in an old
Comforter. Thus trussed like a fowl] ready
for the spit they unceremoniously placed her
4n the middle of the floor and joined Bessie,
Who had taken refuge outside.

Old Nancy followed, them with curses

outed at the utmost pitch of her strident

Yoice. Her utterances were so profane that

® three hastened out of hearing at once.

‘‘Oh, Gay, 1 am so glad you came!?? tear-
ully exclaimed Bessie as they walked to the
‘Toad. ‘‘J—I am all confused. I don’t know

F What if means. Is this a dream?’? _
e Yes, I guéss it is,’’ cheerily replied Gay.
>, You are really lying asleep at home, and
aul and I are snoozing away up in our
oom dreading to hear the first call for
Sveille. Isn’t that so, youngster?’’
Pe Paul laughed and Bessie gave a wan little
‘Smile. She was evidently just recovering
_-Tom the effects of some drug. Seeing that

16 faltered Gay tenderly grasped her arm

ey teistod her to step across the stony

h *‘We’ll sit down for a moment presently, ”?
;®& said. ‘‘And I want you to tell me all you
How about this dastardly outrage.’?
Selecting a spot not far from the road the
“YS made Bessie comfortable by placing

®lr great coats upon a ledge of rock. The

October air did wonders to restore her

: f-consciousness, and she commenced her
Mtle Story in ber wonted vivacious manner.
this still

a
cm

‘This afternoon—I think—is
nursday ???
‘It is Thursday,”’ replied Gay. ‘‘Three
Surs ago you were at home.’’
It seems days since I left the house to
“ceet you, as I supposed,’’ continued Bessie.
Treceived a note from you, or at least in
ae t appéared to be your handwriting,
ut two o'clock,
the old cross-roads.
‘Temembered that we were talking
Sut a little trip after autumn leaves the
“et day, so I naturally suspected nothing.
Id Auntie Clare and received her con-
“t. On reaching the cross-roads I did not
You. Thinking you"had been detained at

®academy I sat down upon a log and

peuddenly I felt somethirg seize me from

Nd and, before 1 could even scream, a
Vy coat was thrown over my head. I
h Zled as best I could, but without avail.
and was thrust under the coat and some-
, 28 moist and pungent in odor was placed
(XY nostrils,

tried to resist, but do what I would I
p und Myself slipping into unconsciousness.
Not tly all became a blank, and I knew
Ng more until I awoke and found my-
N that horrible hut with the black

n bending over me.

| difficult,

It asked me to meet you |,

 

 

GOOD

‘tT tried to rise, but she forced me back,
and threatened me with a whip. I managed
to scream, then—thank God!—you burst in
the door and saved me.”’

‘*Poor girl!’? exclaimed Gay, sympathet-
ically. ‘‘ You have had a terrible experience.
You are safe now. .We will take you home

J

and then see that the perpetrators .of this |

outrage are brought to justice.”’

‘*Who were they? Do you know them

‘*Did you recognize any one?’’ asked Gay
in return.

‘*No; I did not see a single person nor
hear a voice.’’

‘That is unfortunate,’’ said - Gay,
gravely. ‘‘It will render conviction very

99)

evidence against them... We will return to
the village now. Keep this affair quiet, and
tell your aunt to say nothing until I finish
my investigation,”’

Mrs. Winsome was so overjoyed to recover

Bessie that she agreed to Gay’s proposition. |

The boys called upon the authorities, and
the constable was sent after old Nancy. On
reaching the hut he found that sbe had dis-
appeared, having freed herself in some
manner,

Gay placed Professor Progney in posses-
sion of the facts in the case and told him of
his suspicions. A messenger was dispatched
after the old farmer, and Munson and Alli-
bone commanded to appear in the head mas-
ter’s office.

Both youths displayed the utmost compos-
ure on being confronted with the serious
charge. They indignantly denied their guilt
and brought Murphy, the saloon-keeper to
prove analibi. The Irishman swore that

Allibone and Munson had spent the entire |

afternoon in his place.

This puzzled the old farmer—whose wits
were not the keenest—and he finally declared
point-blank that he could not recognize the
accused lads. This broke down Gay’s proofs,
and Allibone and Munson escaped arrest.

‘‘The evidence is in your favor,’’ said
Professor Progney, severely, ‘‘but that does
not prevent me from saying that I believe
you to be incorrigible. Your records in this
academy are unsavory, and I intend to
write to your respective parents requesting
your withdrawal at the end of the present
term. Until then you will please keep
within bounds. {f hear of your presence
in the village you will be dismissed at once.’’

Gay did not drop the case. Together with
Jack Dunham and Paul hescoured the coun-

try in search of old Nancy, but without dis- |
The |
affair created a sensation for a time, then it |

covering the slightest trace of her.

was forgotten by all save the principals.

Ebb Tide, much to Gay’s. delight. The

school affairs progressed in their accustomed |

rut until shortly before Thanksgiving Day.

The academy eleven was famous in that
part of the country for its strength: on the
oval, and great was the excitement when
the captain of the team received an unex-
pected challenge from a well-known college
in the upper part of the State.

Professor Progney had wisely made liberal
appropriations for athletics, and the acad-
eniy possessed a perfect field with a grand
stand and saeney club-house. After much
correspondence back and forth it was de-
vided to hold the match there. »

CHAPTER XXXV. e

A FOOT-BALL GAME, AND A STARTLING DE-
NOUNEMENT. .

HANKSGIVING DAY dawned clear
and cold, and the entire population of
} the academy awoke: to a realization

“<7 that the greatest event of the year
was at hand. The school eleven started in
to practice immediately after breakfast,
and their preliminary work was enthusi-
astically cheered by the cadets.

The team was composed of the best ath-
letes in the battalion. A burly fellow almost
six feet in height, named Watts, was the
captain and full-back. Corporal Morgan,
our old friend of the hazing episode, held
down the centre; Jack and Sidney were
right and left tackle, and to Gay was in-
trusted the responsible position of left half-
back. .The rest of the eleven were equally
good in their places.

They made a fine showing in their dark-
brown sweaters emblazoned with an E. T.
monogram, and as they tossed the ball about
in’ practice many a cadet thanked his stars
that the old academy was so well represented
that day. ‘ \

The challenging team had already won
renown with the more famous colleges, and
the Ebb Tide people, both masters and
pupils, felt it a decided honor to be thus se-
lected to round out the season.

Professor Gasse, attended by Ko-ko, was
early in evidence. He selected a prominent

position in the grand sfand, and waved. a
gigantic flag of the school colors at arm’s |

length. While practicing Gay chanced to
run near him, and was greeted w ith a rather
incoherent cheer. i ;
‘“9Rah for Dashleigh !’’ shouted the eccen-
tric teacher of chemistry, with a suspicious
lurch. ‘‘Ko-ko, if you—you don’t cheer for
Gash—I (hic!) mean for Rashleigh, 1’) dish-
charge you. ’Rah, rah! Th’ besh student

X

We have an idea who the eulprits |
|are, Bessie, but there is only circumstantial |

‘| sounded
Bessie’s parents sent for her, but her aunt |
demurred, and she was allowed to remain at |

NEWS.

| in the academy and I don’t (hic!) care who
| knows it. Rashleigh, gimme yer hand.’’

| **Jumping Moses! the professor has been
| testing Ko-ko’s Japanese tangle-foot again,’

ham. ‘‘If it wasn’t that we havea hard team
| to meet I’d like to see him play ball.’?’
‘*Play ball,’’ shouted the professor, who
| had overheard the last words.
| I can playsh ball. Ko-ker, gimme a lift over
| th’? (hic!) rail.
|come home. Hurrah!
way back. Gimme a chance.’’

| Ata signal from Gay the Jap kept the ex-
| cited professor from leaving the stand. He
| struggled a little and then settled into a
peaceful sleep.

As the morning passed the spectators be-
gan to arrive. By ten o’clock the grand
| stand was packed to overflowing. The entire

village of Ebb Tide was apparently present,

and contingents from other towns helped to |

swell the multitude. :

and were given a royal welcome. They were
great, hearty fellows, and from
bulk out-classed the home eleven. As Gay
expressed it in his whimsical manner: ‘‘That
cut very little ice, however.’’

The visitors were escorted by an enthusi-

ring with their college yell. The Ebb Tide
cadets were not backward in replying with
the familiar :

‘Rah, rah, rah! Ebb, rah, Ebb rah, Ebb
T-i-d-e-e-e !”’

The home team won the
the west goal and wind. The teams took
their places and prepared for the grand
struggle. The whistle sounded,and a mighty
sigh went up from the spectators.

‘*Hooray for the Terrapin Eleven !’’ quav-

toss and chose

 

'ered an admirer of the visiting team at the |

last moment. A storm of cheers swept the

field, then Patton the captain, kicked off.
| - The light-brown pig-skin hurtled through
| the air, but was deftly caught by Jack Dun-
| ham and downed. As the lines face each
| other for the first time every boy was quiv-
| ering with the excitement of the moment.
| Watts gave the signal. Gay bucked the
| centre like a battering-ram, then asa _ feint
| he passed the ball to Sidney who darted to
| the right with all the speed of his long legs.
| He was tackled in grand style, however,
| but the Ebb Tides gain five yards.

A rousing cheer came from the speetators
and when, it died away a sleepy voice ws
heard: ‘‘Playsh ball, fellows; playsh (hic!)
bal! Ko-ker, whatsh that in Japanese stut-
tering???’

When the laughter subsided the whistle
and the play began ence more.
Again Gay tried the centre, but this time
the ball speedily fell into the hands of a
stalwart Terrapin, who started off down the
field like a deer. He recovered the five
yards and added five ccs to the’ score,
finally falling a victim to Jack Dunham,
who was great on tackling.

The teams line up again with desperation
depicted on each face. The visitors were

possession of any great ‘‘snap,’’ and. it
dawned upon them that the be&t kind of
tactics was really needful.

| little time in putting it in motion. Their
| balf-back drove it directly into the arms of
the giant captain, who dropped the pig-skin,
and with a beautiful punt sent it flying
across the Ebb Tide goal. Twenty minutes
time and a score of six to nothing in favor
of the visitors.

‘‘Boys, we must make or break this time,’’
said Captain Watts, eying his men entreat-
ingly. ‘‘Remember, it will be a victory for
us even if we tie ’em. Dashleigh. can’t you
help us?’’

“Tf the chance comes my way, I’ll do the
best I can,’’ replied Gay, simply. And he
did, as the sequel will show.

Captain Watts kicked to the Terrapins’
| thirty-five yard line, and the ball was re-
turned to the centre of the field by the vis-
itors’ left guard. The sprinter dashed for-
ward for fifteen yards, and ‘then fell in a
clever tackle.

Then ensued a period of fumbling, rushes

 

and punts, finally ending with a wild rush |
| by Sidney Cross to within ten yards of the |
Sid fell with the ball, and a |

Terrapin goal.
‘‘pile-up’’ took place ending in a call for
the doctor. The Ebb Tide right tackle was

under the surgeon’s care.

At the next line-up Captain Watts made a
marvelous punt and scored amid the cheers
of the spectators. Jack’ kicked the goal and
missed. This finished the half with a record
of six to four against the academy. :

Pandemonium began with the interval.
The Ebb Tide yell fairly cracked the zenith.
The home cadets flocked over the field
waving their flags, dnd. took possession of
the team. They were finally driven away,
however, and singling out Ko-ko as a mas-
cot, perched him on the roof of the grand
stand, to the great risk of his neck. \

To commence the last half of Ahe game
Captain Patton, of the Terrapins, kicked a
good twenty yards into. the hands of a quar-
ter back, The latter tried a rush, but he
was quickly tackled, and the ball passed to
Jack Dunham, who made a graceful fall
with it. ;

Fifteen minutes of good play on the part

 

Tis ne
|} exclaimed Gay, with a wink at Jack Dun-|}

‘‘Bet yer life |

I’ll spla3 ball till th’ cows |
I’m a full-back from }

Presently the challenging team arrived, |

their very |

astic crowd of admirers, who made the field |

beginning to realize that they were not in|

The Terrapins had the bal), afd they lost

the injured party, but he pulled through

4919

a %
| of the visitors forced the prize within thirty
yards of the Ebb Tide goal. Things now
| looked blue for the home team.

teams lined up with only a few
minutes to play. Captain Watts displayed a
| face as long as his arm, and Captain Patton’s
| was wreathed in smiles. Gay and Jack
|exchanged consoling glances which turned
to grim determination when the whistle
| sounded.

The right half-back of the academy had
the ball. There was a second of suspense,
then the spectators saw a mixture of -arms
and legs which suddenly dissolved into
twenty-two separate individuals. A scram-
ble occupied the attention of all for a very
brief period, then a little form clad in brown
leaped into the air over the captain of the
Terrapins. !

It landed in a clear spot, bucked, dodged,
doubled and‘ then shot straight down the
field like a streak of lightning. The grand
| stand rose en masse. Cadets climbed over
visiting spectators, and the latter fought to
gain a better view of the field.

**?Rah, rah, rah, Ebb Tide-e-e!”’

‘“?Rah, rah, Terrapins, rab!’’

‘It’s an academy cadet !?’

‘*No—yes—hurrah! Dashleigh! Dashleigh !
Dashleigh !’’

Down the field darted the brown-clad
figure. After him sprinted friends and foes.
The fugitive crossed the twenty-five yard
line of the Terrapins, with Jack and Sid
and Corporal Morgan interfering behind
| him.

A pile-up marked the tenth second, then,
with a desperate spurt, five of the Terrapins’
heavy-weights caught Gay within a yard of
the goal.

He fell once, shook himself clear, then as
he was tackled again the ‘‘pig skin’’ left
his hands to fall beyond the goal—and time
| wasup. When the spectators saw the ball
| safe in bounds such a. cheer arose that it

 

|}seemed as if Gabriel had_ tooted his final
horn.

| The sound swelled to a mighty roar, then
: suddenly ceased as two doctors anda
|

couple of the players lifted from the ground
a limp figure. A murmur ran through the
assemblage. ;
‘*Tt is the clever player—he who saved the —
day for his eleven. It is Gay Dashleigh.’’
A hoarse cry came from aman with a
dark beard, who had been eagerly watching
|the game from a lower seat. Dropping to
|the ground, he ran across the field to where
| the surgeons had laid their burden. A spec-
tator who had sat next the stranger stooped
|down and picked up a false beard. It had
| fallen from the man’s face.
| Clustered around Gay were a number of
| curious cadets including Allibone and Mun-
}son Ferris. The latter suddenly felt himself
pushed aside, and a tall man with a dark
mustache fell upon his knees alongside the
injured lad. P
| ‘*My son, my dear son, speak to me!’
|} exclaimed the new-comer, hastily. ‘Oh,
| doctors, he is not badly hurt? do something
for him. Gay, my son, speak to me.’’
Munson Ferris stared at the speaker as if
his eyes were leaving his head, then he
| grasped him by the collar, and shouted:
| ‘**Help, help! Arrest this man! He is a
burglar. His name isSteele, and he tripe to
rob the Milton Bank !’’
(TO BE CONTINUED.)

A novel serial, by Emerson Bell, is under
| preparation. The subject is thoroughly up-to-
date. ;
es en ere ae
A BAD BOY.

For precocity, irrepressibility, and too
‘often depravity, ‘‘Young. America’? in
| these days can hardly be surpassed. Here is
}a story told me yesterday: A little chap,
| not yet eight years old, whose parents live in
one of the fashionable parts of New York, -
went last week to pay a visit to his grand-
mother. While there, in rummaging through |
his grandmother’s secretaire he came across
a half-dollar, and shortly afterward he was
on his way down stairs to invest his—
‘*find.’? He expended the whole amount in
|candy, and, upon his return, was enjoying
\it in the privacy of his room when his
grandmother put in an appearance.

‘“‘Why, Robbie,’’ she exclaimed, taking: in
the situation, ‘‘where on earth did you get
all' that candy?’?

‘*Bought it,’’? was the reply.

‘‘But where did you get the money?”’

‘tA gentleman I met in the street’ gave it
to me.”’ : ny

‘‘Robbie, I don’t believe you are telling
me the truth,’’ said the old lady, slowly,
looking her grandson in the eyes. ‘‘In fact,
I am sure you are telling me a falsehood. A
little bird tells me that you are.’’

The boy looked at her with a somewhat
incredulous expression. ;

‘*Now, come, Robbie, tell me where you
got that money?’’ bee ete

‘¢‘Why don’t you ask your dickey-bird?’’
was the ready reply of the bad boy.

—_—___ o--e

Doctor—‘‘Take these powders as directed,
and your cold will be gone in two or three.
days.*’ :
Patient—‘You seem quite hoarse, doctor.’*

Doctor—‘‘ Yes, I’ve had a bad cold for
four weeks,’’

 

 
  

 

 

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NEW YORK, MARCH 28, 1896.

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Advertising rates, 50 cents per agate line.

 

Contents of this Number.
SERIAL STORTES.
“The Boy Boomers,” by’ Harry Danger-
field.
“The Lost Opal of Mysore,” by William
Murray Graydon.
“The Quaker Spy,” by Jasper W. Wild-
wood.
?—” by Enrique H. Lewis.
“The Son of Old Nick,” by Vietor St. Clair.
“Gay Dashleigh’s Academy Days,” by Ar-
_thur Sewall,
SHORT STORIES,
“The Maid of the Alps,” by Victor St.
Clair.
** ‘Bantam’ the Bear-Slayer,” by Rex Royl-
ston.

‘Saved by a Derelict,” by J. A. Higginson.
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.

“e

 

Department,”

 

NEXT WHEE!
A SPLENDID TREAT!

In No. 309 will be commenced a stirring
tale from the talented pen of that prince of
story-tellers,

WILLIAM MURRAY GRAYDON,
author of ‘‘In Barracks and Wigwam,” ‘“The
White King of Africa,” ‘Jungles and Trait-
ors,” etc., etc.

In the present instance the scene has

Campaigning With Braddock;

OR,

FIGHTING ALLIED FOES,
A Tale of Colonial Days,

will indicate the great wealth of material
rom which the story is drawn. It is a

Goop NEws AND N. Y. WEEKLY, both. one year, $4.50 :
wess |

UR ‘PRIZES,

ran 3

Q
| a
(GIFTS,

READ THIS COLUMN.

&

In the bicycle contest just closing, the
readers of Goop News have been given a
rare treat. Never before in the history of
boys’ papers has such a liberal offer been
made.
thirty $85 bicycles mean before you’ can
grasp the magnitude of the offer.
ber, this army of bicycles is not given in re-

Remetmn-

turn for cash subscribers, but simply as a
gift to our readers.
season will see the cycle more popular than
ever. Manufactories have sprung up all
and day, yet the demand for wheels far ex-

was a luxury restricted to the wealthy few

to-day it is universal. Tobe in the “swim,”
one must own an up-to-date wheel.
bicycle offered by Goop NgEws is the well-
known ‘Outing,’ a thorough high-grade
machine, of the model of 1896, and com-
plete in every. particular. Have you col-
lected your coupons? The time is brief.

mailed after that date will not be consid-
ered. A last word! The more coupons
you send in, the greater your chance of win-
ning a wheel. Do not permit one, or three,
or ten coupons, stand between you and an
$85 bicycle.

+

**

Are you reading Arthur Sewall’s special
articles on trades and professions in the
“Short Talks with the Boys’” department ?
If you are casting about for a means of
livelihood, or if that important time in
your life has arrived when you are con-
fronted with the question of your future
profession or trade, you will read the arti-
cles with exceeding interest. The series is
to include the well-known professions, and
the information set forth can be relied
upon. The present subject is civil engi-

that important profession is entertainingly
described.
ys

The ‘‘ Nameless Story” contest is exciting
intense interest among Goop News readers.
They are quick to appreciate a good thing,
and the contest is becoming very popular.
Its extreme simplicity appéals to all, it be-
ing merely the selection of a suitable title
for a story. Any person can enter a con-
test of this kind. By carefully reading the

“Nameless Story,” titles will suggest them-
selves. Competitors are not limited to one
coupon, but can send in as many as they :
choose. They can be mailed either sepa- |
rately or at one time. ‘he final coupon will |
be published in No. 313, out April 18, and |
the contest will close Saturday, April 25.
Coupons mailed after that date will not be
considered. Remember! the prizes num- |
ber sixteen. If you fail to secure the first, |
you still have fifteen chances. “Half a loaf

 

serial of
‘ INTENSE HUMAN INTEREST,
and the masterly style displayed in its con- |
struction, the number of thrilling incidents,
m the touches of nature, and the

ABSORBING PLOT,

with its battles and ambunscades, and its
thread of mystery so skillfully woven, makes
it one of the finest juvenile serials ever
placed before the readers of Goop News.
The ©
STIRRING FORTUNES
of the hero and his friends in those dark
Pa and ttoublous days, before the Revolution
ak brought light and freedom to this country,
aL will appeal to the heart of every patriotic
j boy. Kemember!. the opening chapters
will appear in No. 309 —out next week. You
owe it as a duty to your friends to acquaint
them with this promised literary treat.

 

Spectan Norice.—The popular historical
writer, Alfred Armitage, is at work on an-
other of his unequaled ‘serials. Look out

is better than no bread!” Send in your
titles.

: |

* *

Owing to the lively interest evinced by |
our readers in ‘‘Gay Dashleigh’s Academy |
Days,” the popular author, Arthur Sewall, |
has been commissioned to write a sequel.
In it the hero and his immediate friends
are taken to an island now prominently be-
fore the public. eye. We can promise the
readers a splendid serial, teeming with
thrilling adventures, and written in the
author's most captivating style. The title
will be announced shortly. Look out for it:

*
* *

Don’t you think you really owe it to your

friends to acquaint them with the many
splendid features offered by Goop News?
Tell them to write for sample copies.

*

* *

Three appropriate prizes are offered this

 

for it.

 

   

 

week to Goop News elub members. See
announcement in club column.

You must stop to reflect just what |

The coming summer |

ceed the supply. Three years ago cycling |

The |

The contest closes on March 21st ; coupons |

neering, and the best method of learning |

| physical hardships of engineering.

| tice in the machine shop, in the field, in the
| drafting-room, and in the office.

| Boys intending to devote themselves to

| plan, which is partially regulated by law.

/ and natural sciences form a part of the sys-

NEW 'S.

g

j

SHORT ‘{ALKS

‘With THE Boys.

A

{
\

e

&

EDITED BY ARTHUR SEWALL.

HOW TO BECOME A CIVIL ENGINEER.
PART II.

 
  

HY is best for a student of civil engineer-
varied according to circumstances,
seems to be about as follows:

Assuming, as in other professions, the age
at which he is supposed to commence his
career to be about twenty-one or twenty-
two; having pursued a general course of ed-
ucation at school until he is sixteen or seven-

teen, he should then commence his special |

| course.

In this he must learn something of science
| and something of art; but he must also learn
| how the one can be brought to bear on the

| other: Mathematics and the natural sciences |
over the country ; their forces work night |

must form an essential part of his study,
but he must not expect to make himself
completely master of either. To do this
would occupy more than the whole time at
| his disposal.

| He must select those branches of those
| subjects which most directly relate to his

| future work, and leave the rest as-he would |

aluxury. The making of this selection is
very difficult; ‘the temptation is always to
attempt too much, and this ends only in con-
fusion.

It is but a comparatively small portion of
these wide subjects that can be usefully
brought to bear on engineering, and to these
| he must necessarily restrict himself.

There are also manual operations which
are essential to bring his knowledge to a
| practical issue, and in which a long course
(ot training is necessary to acquire the ex-

quisite skill, such as mechanical drawing
; and the use of surveying and measuring in-
struments, the want of facility in the use of
| Which would prevent him from making

practical use of his knowledge for a long |

time.
These branches of preliminary study should

HE exact course of preparation which |

ing to pursue, although it should be |

to be performed by them hereafter, by mak-
ing excursions during the period of lectures,
and during vacation visiting the publi¢
works and shops of the country.

After graduating at these schools they
| enter again for a time as volunteers at the
| different public works or private establish:
| ments, and are glad to be taken as such,
| without receiving any compensation; 10
| fact, sometimes even paying for thé privi-
| lege. After such a course, and proper exam-
| inations, they are only considered, even at
| private works, to be fit to take a subordinate
| position, and are often only too glad to get it.

The reader will now understand the kind

of knowledge desirable as a ground-work for

gineering practice. He will see that in the
order of importance, mathematics takes the
| first place; then come physical sciences,
| drawing, and language.

Some familiarity with the practical work
| of the profession must be acquired. Surveys,

plans, maps, and estimates therefore form @
part of the curriculum.

i (TO BE CONTINUED. )

; en

| W. A. 8S. Lynn, Mass., writes: “Having
| read your paper for many years, and especially
| your ‘Short “Talks With The Boys,’ I wish t@
ask you a few questions through the ‘Short
Talks.’ I wish to ask you if you will please
give me a little informationin regard to trail-
ing forarunner. I attend the schools of Lyn!
and ain 15 years old, and if you will please give
me afew hints about eating and sleeping and
genéral care of the body, especially that part
| that when developed would help me to become
@ runner.”

The training necessary to develop the
muscles used in running is not greatly differ
| ent from that required in other athletic e3-
/ercises. A general care of the body is the
first principle. Muscles are sympatheti¢.
That which is done for one set or part indl
rectly acts upon all. Preparation of thé
frame and physical powers for severe exel-
tion is not a task which should be under-
taken in haste. A lad should not commen¢é
systematic training without the advice 0
his family physician. If assured that his
constitution is able to stand a severe stralD
he should seek the advice of a professiona
trainer, and obey his directions implicitly;
Baths should be taken freely; the col
plunge being gradually adopted. Walking
and short sprints will develop and bardew
the muscles of the legs. Gymnastic move
ments to expand the chest is one of the first

 

| requisites. Spend the greater portion of you!

| require at least three years, then the student | 1 Eat ,
| retire early. In fact, live in a rational ma)-

should proceed with his practical training,

possible. In this‘he will find the knowledge
he has acquired of great help; he will recog-
nize much that he sees, and be able to judge
of the most important things.to which to
direct his attention.

After such preparation he will learn more
in one year spent in the work-shop or on the
works than in three without it, so that by
the time he has completed his training he
will have as much practical knowledge as if
he had spent his whole time in the work-
shops.

In an address given by a well-known en-
| gineer before the American Society of Civil
| Engineers, these views on the subject of
| early training were advanced:

‘*T would recommend that the engineering
| pupil get as sound a general education as
| possible, including the principles of the
sciences, Let his early education be that of
general culture, developing his mind,
| strengthening his powers of observation and
| judgment, teaching him to generalize.

| ‘*This course he should, if possible, pursue
| up to the age of eighteen or twenty. Before
that age the mind and body are not gener-
ally sufficiently developed to endure the

 

‘Then let him spend several yearsin prac-

Let |him
learn to deal with men and things, and to
understand the conduct of affairs. ‘Whether
he will return to his books again depends
upon what sort of a man he is.”’

The system now in vogue in Europe is sug-
gested for this country, and may possibly be
adopted. Itisas follows: .

technical occupations generally pursue ‘this

After passing through the higher giades of
the common school up to fifteen or sixteen
years of age, where even, to some extent,
Latin and Greek, but particularly modern
languages, and the elements of mathematics

tem of instruction, they are regularly ap-
prenticed to the particular branch of busi-
ness they intend to take up afterward.

As apprentices, they pass their regular
time as carpenters, masons, pattern-makers,
molders, machinists at mines or furnaces,
ete. Generally night schools, or schools dur-
ing part of the winter—industrial schools—
are visited during their time of apprentice-
ship, the time so spent being allowed as reg-
ular apprenticeship.

They receive little or no pay during this
time, according to choice and circumstances,
After spending several years in this way,
they enter the higher grades of the technical
schools or colleges, to pass through a thor-
ough course of scientific training, at the

which ‘should include as great a range as |

|in the science of electricity.

time in the open air. Eat moderately, avd

ner, and avoid excesses of all kinds.

C. M. A., Kenosha, Wis., writes: “I have
read GOOD Nrws for some time and conside!
it a very nice story paper. I am very muéc#
interested in ‘Short Talks With The Boys,” an
would like to have some advice on a subjee
that is of vital interest to me. I am 17 years
of age, strong and active, very much interesté
I think that
have a tendency toward mechanism. It is @Y
greatest delight to dabble with batteries, aby
ain always trying to make something. Wh#l
do you think about electricity, would you #
vise me to study it? What books, if apy
should I get? Could I get a position?” s

You are fortunate inasmuch that your 1%
clinations are toward such a splendid pro.
fession as electricity. You should adopt 16!
your circumstances warrant such’ a course:
It is not so difficult to secure a chance whe
one is imbued with your earnestness ape

af $
ambition. You are young yet, and that oF
also in your favor. Continue your ‘‘d4@

bling,’’ and at the same time restrict xr
reading and studies to books treating ie
mathematics and electricity. Works on the®
subjects can be obtained from any 0 Td
seller. If they are not in stock they cad 4
easily obtained for you. Secure the address?
of electrical plants in your immediate ne!é
borhood, and apply boldly for a position #
helper or apprentice. If you are rebuffed 2”
first, try again. Remember that perseve!
ance will tell in the end. Faint-hearted2
never won a battle in this world. Read a
articles on civil engineering now being Pry
lished in this column. Electricity is clos?
allied to that profession.

N. W., Newark, Delaware, writes: ‘Will Si
please tell me in your ‘Short Talks With .T a
Boys,’ which you think is the better trade i
stationary engineer, or an electrician? yt)
either one is a good trade; my father_3§
engineer and I could learn it with him.
would you advise me to learn? «And W
could I get a set of books on either?” sae

The profession of electricity is far super
in standing and. financial returns to that?
an engineer, either mechanical or locomo#l 0
Situated as you are, I would advise yn
follow your father’s profession, how® ov
He, no doubt, would be able to teach vu
the various details most thoroughly. if lect
attempted to acquire a kpowledge of |? it
tricity you might find it extremely difl@y,
to secure an opportunity. ‘‘A bird ™ ur
hand is worth two in the bush.’’ ae
father should be able to give you a His
necessary books, When you commen¢®s
member that one should not stop at 4
smattering of terms and details. D
content with knowing how to run an &D8
Learn why it runs, and the vital forces ne
hind its movements. Mediocrity is the »”—
of progress. 4
SpectaL Notice.—Many communicatl®

e.
ere
jp.

-

pss
pts

 

 

same time, in various ways, being constantly
reminded of the practical duties necessary

improperly addressed to this depart!”
are answered in the ‘‘Mail Bag.’’

  

 
 

 

     
   
  
    
    
      
   
    
      
   
   
   
  
    
    
    
   
    
    
   
     
    
    
  
   
   
    
   
   
    
   
    
   
   
  
    
   
    
   
  
    
    
   
 
  
   
    
 
    
   
   
    
    
 
 
  
    
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
     
   
 
    
   
  
  
  
 
  
  
 

im

ae

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| 1D
Su
“ (3
om as j
ae gl; :
: 6/an

  

Serio
ea Russ
Pe 2D at
Ate t
ernm

1
knew
also

8rine
Ute
Plan

lege

 

 

ee 3

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(LHE “NAMELESS” PRIZE STORY.)

GooD NEWS.

MMS a TT

BY <NRIQUE H. LEWIS,

| plied Hugh, placing his hand upon the| As they sprang to their feet in drowsy
English lad’s shoulder. ‘‘You know you/| alarm, the cell was entered by several uni-
have been of the greatest help to me. Look | formed officers and two gentlemen in citi-

at the money you have paid out in fares
and hotel bills. [ am really ashamed to con
sider the amount. It will all be paid back
when we reach America, but I do not want
you to say again that you are doing me

zen’s clothes. One. of the latter—a stout,
well-dressed man of middle age, with flow
ing beard and a round good-h€mored face-
approached and held out his hand.
‘‘Good-morning, boys,’’ he exclaimed.

: ; 4 oi : Agee ; <i more harm than good. Now, we must see | cheerily; ‘‘Which of you is Hugh Thorpe?’’
\uthor of *‘ Yankee Boys in Japan, a ‘The opper Disk,*’ ‘*Sword and Pen, aed ae be done tn secure our release from ‘T am he,’’ quickly replied High ad
‘“A Young Free Lance,’’ ete. this prison.’’ vancing to meet the gentleman.
—— ‘Why not try to send for the French am ‘‘Ah, so you are the daring American lad
{ ? —’ was commenced in No. 301. Back nhimbers can be obtained of | bassador?’’ suggested Alan, brightening up. | whose name is now so famous in Paris, eh!

all News

Agents. ]}

‘‘Your letter should secure his assistance.’

Well, bless my soul, ] guess you deserve it.

| **J will communicate with him at once} Iam the American ambassador. Last night

CHAPTER XXII. {turned to his friend with a woe-begone face. | if the jailers permit’me. And I’l] also send late I received word from my colleague, the

Alan tried to smile, but the effort was a|for the American ambassador. He may be| French representative, that you were prob

WHEREIN THE: BOYS FIND A FRIEND. dismal failure. Taking a seat upon a small | able to do some good.’’ ably due in St. Petersburg. He said that he
a canvas cot, he folded his arms, and said Hugh commenced a tattoo upon the iron! had been requested by President Faure in a

 

HE amazement of

Hugh and Alan at

| anxiously: door and presently a bewhiskered guard | private letter to tender you every assistance.

  

> the unexpected denouement can be! ‘‘Hugh, for goodness sake explain this. I | armed with a rifle appeared. He shook his | This morning I was visited by a certain per
( imagined. The former was simply | confess Iam all at sea. As that scoundrel} head on hearing our hero’s request, and | son who hastened to inform me that you and
dumfounded. He looked at the Pole|and I were leaving the train I beard you| replied in bad French: an English lad were prisoners here on a

a8 if scarcely
Slanced at the

believing his ¢
grim faces of

ars, then he |

{shout for a policeman, then Plotski—if that |
the Russian

is his name—bounded forward and grabbed |

of

‘*It is impossible. Prisoners here aré not

charge plotting
permitted to communicate with any one

Fudge and nonsense!

against the Czar’s life
Now tell me all about

 

 

 

Police, and realized that it was all too true.! you. After that incidents came so swiftly | until they are brought to trial.’ | it, boys.’
He had been cruelly duped by an official; that my head whirled. What does it all ‘‘But couldn’t you arrange it if we makef Highly delighted at the unexpected tu@n

Of the Czar’s Secret Espionage Corps.

He

mean?’?

 

and Alan were prison
"rs under the most

Serious charge known to
Aussian Jaws—that
a attempt to assassin

ate the head of the gov

ernment.

Hugh’s indignatior
knew no bounds. He
also felt deeply cha
grined at the deplorable
Stcome of his brilliant
Plan to capture an al
®ged nihilist. Instead,

ol

© and Alan had been
Made prisoners, and
lurik Plotski was re

Yealed in his true colors

 

—a secret service de
fective,

Hugh attempted to
"emonstrate, but he

‘0on received an exam-
ble of Russian police
Meatment. The Pole’s
fommand had hardly

%6n uttered when. offi
“ers appeared from
SYery quarter. A cor

don, two men deep, was
drawn around the little
Party, and the gaping
ectators from the
rain driven like sheep
Tom the station.

, Several of the police

cured the hand lug
age of the boys.
Ugh’s satchel was

pened, and the alleged
®tition he had re-
ived from Plotski
Singerly exposed to
View,
; Alan attempted’ to
peak to our hero, but
"4 Was rudely gagged
Md, as an added re-
Uke, struck in the face
& burly guard. A
fo nent later the un
Thunate prisoners
&re dragged to a closed
8n outside the station.
th S they were being
Pp rust inside Turik
bk contrived to
Non eer to Hugh: ‘‘Am
ty you will not have
Spportunity to pre-
. My petition to the
tittle Father. Ha! ha!

|
h But we will yet
Reei, the pleasure of
thi, 8 you punished for

01 Sutrage, you

bene” retorted
Yor. furiously. ‘‘Are
los” So in Amos Hud
Ty one’s pay, dog???

MY - door of the van was hurriedly closed,
vj Wy ore the Pole’s face disappeared from
the i the lad saw that
Wa. “USe of some astonishment to him. This

bing almost proof positive that the conjec-
i was wrong
Wore es the ride from the station the boys

Ih, Prevented from conversing by a guard

Wrive Vehicle. After at least a half-hour’s

Th athe lumbering van came to a stop,

de ®ar door was opened and the inmates
red to descend.

a e, found themselves in the court of a
Way. .° Prison. On four sides gloomy stone
lrg ‘Inclosed the quadrangle. Innumerable
a low ted windows pierced the walls, and
In day Bateway guarded by a dozen soldiers
tered uniforms showed where the van had

hoya tik Plotski was there to receive the
: ® was radiant with triumph, and
d the importance of his capture to a
gayly decorated officials. No
, made to examine the prisoners;
Mailing stanadiately escorted into the
Pe ceil. through a long corridor to
LS the

door

clanged after them Hugh

-

his last words were |

“I REPEAT WHAT

|
|
;
|
|

 

;

 

|

| away with my discretion?
tioned the purpose of our journey he might
a | never
doing you more harm than good.”’

 

| manner?

carriage and on learning that we intended

| sidered it a fine opportunity to establish his
| name.

and Iam afraid it will work to our undoing.’’

it worth your while?’’ spoke up Alan, care-

‘of fortune, our hero. explained

ski’s little

Turik Plot
scheme

 

Middl

i} pi Hi
S he

\

\

Ne

a
7

)

I SAY, SAHIBS. I KNOW MORE THAN

ONE WAY

II

 

DESIRE TQ TRY IT, I’7LL TAKE YOU THERE IN SAFETY.’’

Without more ado our hero gave him “j

detailed explanation of his discovery con- |
cerning the bomb, concluding with his be-
lief that Plotski was not connected with the
promoter’s attempt to win the wager by
foul means.

‘«Then why did he have us arrested in this
What advantage is it to him?’’

‘*T can think of only onereason. He is}
trying to make capital for himself. J believe |
that members of the Russian Secret Service |
who make important captures are liberally
rewarded and promoted. This
probably sent to Berlin to watch passengers |
bound into Russia. He chanced to board our |

to make an attempt to see the Czar he con-

He undoubtedly secured the bomb in
Warsaw. It really isa most brilliant scheme,

‘Tt is all my fault,’’ replied Alan, almost
tearfully. ‘‘Why did I let my tongue run
If I hadn’t men-

have tried his confounded plan. I am

‘*Don’t say that, old fellow,’’ kindly re-

|gave the money a covetous glance.
| selected a hundred ruble note and held it
| tantalizingly before the man’s face.
| temptation was too strong. Grasping it, the
| fellow whispered hoarsely :

lessly displaying a roll of bills he had con- |

cealed from the searcher ip the prison office.
The Russian’s eyes contracted, and he

The

‘*T will be relieved at midnight. If you
promise me double that amount I’ll see the
ambassadors for you.’’

adors that we are confined here, and say to
the former that we have a letter for him
from President Faure. When they make
their appearance I will pay you.’’

The guard nodded and slipped away, leay-
ing the boys overjoyed at the discovery that
Russian officials are really as open to bribery
as history has stated. A modest supper was
brought to them shortly after dark, but they
were too anxious to enjoy the food. Mid-
night found them. still discussing
awkward situation. Shortly before daylight
they fell asleep, and did not awaken untila
rattling of the door indicated the coming of
visitors.

WE

TM uu When he concluded the
WH A enti Le American

TO REACH THE PRINCE’S STRONGHOLD, AND IF YOL

Alan |

their |

ambassado1
expressed his indigna
tion in notgentle terms

‘*T will attend to this
matter’ at once,’? he
fumed. ‘‘The scoundrel!
[ will settle him before
the day is out. This
gentleman is the secre
tary of the French Le
gation, boys; he will
also help you to secure
satisfaction. So the
governor of the prison
has yourautograph
book? We will get it
immediately and post
forthwith to Peterhof
[ll promise you not
only your liberty, but
the Czar’s signature
before dark. Now be
brave and wait patient
ly until we return.’?

A moment later he
was gone, leaving the
boys too bewildered to
know whether they
were dreaming, or
whether it was the
blessed truth. As the
shades of night gath
ered in the cell they
eyed each other anx-
iously. Just as the last
glimmer of daylight
faded from the interior
footsteps hastily ap-
proached the door.

 

CHAPTER XXIII

W HEREIN
HIS

ALAN SHOWS
AGILITY.

™ UCCESS!”’ called
— out a cheery
voice. ‘*Come
c— out of that, boys:
you are as free as air,
Here is an order for
your release, and Mas
ter Hugh, here is your
precious book with the
autograph of Nicholas
II. I also bring news
that Turik Plotski has
been arrested for too
much zeal, and is now

  

confined in this very
prison.’’
The kind-hearted old

diplomat bustled into
the cell, and after giv
ing the boys a hearty
grasp of the hand, he
led the way to the office
¢ of the governor of the
prison. After the obser
vation of certain formalities the doors were
thrown open and they walked forth to free
dom. A carriage was in waiting, and before
many minutes had elapsed Hugh and Alan
found thémselves at the American Lega-
tion, guests of the genial ambassador.

‘‘] suppose you wish to hear just how |
contrived to secure so much from his impe
rial majesty, eh?’’ the latter asked, after they
had reached his residence. ‘‘Well, when |

 

| left you this morning I tooka train direct
‘Tt is a bargain,’’ promptly replied Alan.
Plotski was | ‘‘Tell both the French an American ambass-

for Peterhof and made an unofficial call at
the palace: My very good friend the court
chamberlain, heard my story, and instantly
secured me a private audience with the
young Czar.

" ‘Tet me tell you right now, my friends,
that we of America are often mistaken in
our opinion of European rulers. We think
they are so high and mighty that their very
faces would dazzle our eyes. It is all a mis-
take, alla mistake. They are mere mortals
like ourselves, and, if it comes to that. some
of them are very human indeed. Now, as to
the Czar, he is a good fellow, no matter
what is said about him. Why, he told the
chamberlain to admit me at once. When .1]
entered the room—his' private study—he

 
+922

took both uy hands and greeted me as cor-
dially as if «he had gone to school with me.

‘*When [ told him your story he laid back |

on a settee and laughed until the tears rolled
down his chegks.
But he soon waxed hopping mad at the
scurvy trick of that detective. He wrote an
order for his immediate arrest, and then
signed your book in his - best
Then t6 repay you for your trouble he sends

you this safe conduct pass from St. Peters- |
I told him you were bound |

burg to Odessa.
tor India from here, you know.
pass means railway fare as well; and

Now this
you

will be treated with royal honors while you

are in his territories. Are you satisfied?’’
‘*Satisfied, sir!’’? exclaimed Hugh, with

emotion. ‘‘I do not know how to thank you |

for your kindness. I—I am greatly obliged
to you.
we would still be lying
every prospect, of banishment to
Again [ thank you, sir.’’

‘*Tut, tut! don’t mention it,’’ replied the
ambassador, heartily. ‘‘Ten years ago I

in that prison with
Siberia.

>

ao the American government as’ consul

Southampton, England. The consul gen-
eral was a grand good fellow named Thorpe.

In the course -of our official connections he |

treated me as one man should another. [
have long wanted to pay the debt and to-
day I have had the chance. My dear boy, I
would do anything for your father’s son.
Tut! nota word. You haven’t any time to

lose. The train starts for Odessa in an hour. |
Here are your papers. I have added a letter |
You |

to the American consul at Bombay.
may find it of service to you. Good-by, and
good luck. My carriage is at the door. No
—not a word. Good-by, good-by!’’

‘*Tf all your diplomats are as whole-souled
as that man, you are indeed well repre-
sented,’’ said Alan, solemnly, as they were
whirled away toward the station. ‘‘One’s
own father couldn’t do more.’’

‘*You are right,’’ replied Hugh, fervently.
‘‘T will always remember him with grati-
tude. I’l] tell you, old fellow, we are indeed
fortunate. My good fairy still clings to me.’’

‘*T hope she won’t forsake you in India.
There is where we will need her services. I
read in that paper last night that the Brit-
ish were again repulsed in Dumpore. The
article said the prince had won three more
native tribes to his side, and that he will
never give up. Whew! fancy two small boys
attempting to interview a fellow like that.’’

**We will do the best we can.
station. Now watch me flash this order of
the Czar before their eyes.’’

The boys strode across the platform of the
Moscow Railway station with as much im-
portance as if they were princes of the blood.
Seeking the superintendent of the company
Hugh gave him the document with a haughty
gesture. The effect was magical.

The gayly uniformed official bowed almost
to the ground, and hastily summoned sev-
eral assistants. These he dispatched with
peremptory orders to have a special carriage
attached to the Moscow express, then he
escorted the boys to his private office, where
he entertained, them until the train was
ready to depart.

When they returned to the platform they
found to their surprise that the whole sta-
tion force was drawn up in military forma-
tion in their honor.

The boys had hard work repressing their
smiles. They managed to- walk to the car-
riage with their heads in the air, however,
but when the train pulled away from the
depot they laughed in great glee.

‘‘What a difference from our arrival,’’
gasped Hugh. ‘‘Then we were haled to
prison as suspected nihilists, and now we
leave as honored guests of the Czar himself.
Cricky! I never wanted to grin so badly in
all my life.’’

The run to Moscow was made without
incident. At each station of any import-
ance, officials visited the special carriage
and respectfully tendered their services.
Food of the most elaborate description was
brought, and the trip was almost a tri-
umphal procession. After a brief stop in
Moscow the journey was resumed. WHighty-
four hours after leaving St. Petersburg the
important city of Odessa was reached.

The boys were greatly struck with the
difference in appearance between the inte-
rior Russian towns with their squalor and
poverty and this bright, European-like city
with its populous streets and general air of
industry. ;

After leaving the train at the Kulikovo-
pole station they took a drojke and were
driven directly to the offices of the Russian
Steam Navigation Company, where they
learned that a steamer would sail for Con
stantinople at eleven o’clock.

As it was early morning there were several
hours to spare. A hearty breakfast at the
Cafe Zambrini on the boulevard fitted them
for sight-seeing. Calling a drojke they
started for a tour of the city. While passing
the English Bank Alan motioned the driver
to stop.

‘‘T ‘have business in here,’’ he added to
Hugh. ‘‘Come with me please.’?’

Entering/the bank Alan marched up to the
paying desk and presented his card.

‘*You have a draft for me, I’ believe,’’ he
said. ‘‘It was ordered paid by cable from
London.’’

‘Tf you are Lord Vivian Hope, we have
one thousand pounds for you,’’ replied the

He was simply delighted. |

hand-writing. |

lf it had not been for your services |

Here is the |

GooDp

clerk, respectfully. ‘‘But you will pardon us
if we demand proofs of your identity.’

‘¢Proofs? Why, I am Vivian Hope,”’’
| haughtily replied Alan. ‘‘ You do not think
I would say so if it were untrue’’

‘‘Not at all, but we must obey certain
irules of the bank. You area stranger to
me, and | am compelled to refuse to pay the
money. I am sorry. Probably the British
| consul-general will identify you.”’

‘*T will see him at once,’’ retorted Alan,
marching from the bank in high dudgeon.
On reaching the street he added to
| who was very much perplexed:
|a pretty pickle! I suppose he is right
i though. I see you wish me to explain. Well,
when I telegraphed my mater from Berlin |
| also wired a friend in London for a thousand
pounds. I knew it would come, but I didn’t
anticipate this. What do vou think? I
jhaven’t ten pounds left. What will we do
about the steamer fares to Constantinople
and Bombay ?’’
| Hugh looked grave.
| ‘‘T have two hundred dollars of the orig-
| inal amount given me by General Wagstaffe.
| How much will the tickets cost to India?’’
Alan figured a moment, then replied dis-
| consolately :

‘*Not a penny less than one hundred and |

: fifty pounds.’’

| ‘Seven hundred
| That is first-class all the way?’’
‘*Of course. ”’

‘Well, we will go steerage.”’

cabin.
time.’
| ‘*Would it do any good to see the English
| consul-general?’?
| ‘*T don’t know him from Adam.
try, though. He can only refuse.’’
| As it lacked only an hour of the time ap
pointed forthe departure of the steamer to
| Constantinople the boys hastened
| consulate. They found the diplomatic official
| in his office. He was a brusque, severe look-
| ing man of fifty.

(’ll get that money before steamer
’

We will

As Alan and Hugh entered he wheeled |
around in his chair as if impatient at being |
This did not augur well for the |

disturbed.
success of their errand. The English lad was
no whit disconcerted, however.
several papers from his pocket
respectfully :

**T am sorry to trouble you, sir, but I am
an English subject temporarily in this city
and I wish to be identified

he

| to settle the matter?”’

‘*Your name?’’ demanded the consul-gen-
éral sharply.

‘*Lord Vivian Hope, sir.’

‘What! Why, I° have just received a
despatch concerning you. It is from the
homie office and instructs me to arrest you
on sight and to see that you are returned to
England forthwith. I now——’’

The official paused and stared blankly after
Alan’s retreating form. He had barely ut-
tered the word ‘‘arrest’’ when the English

’

rabbit from a defective trap,

CHAPTER XXIV.

OLD ACQUAINTANCE
PEARS.

WHEREIN AN REAP-

s
TOP! I say there,
roared the consul-general, bounding
from his seat. ‘‘Gad! run after him
some one. Bless me, what a sprinter

he is. Are you his friend, young man?’?

Alan had dumfounded him. Before he could
reply in words he was surprised to see the
diplomat urst into a series of hearty
chuckles. :

‘‘This is the best joke of my experience.
Ho! bo! ho! Faney the boy. taking it Seri-
ously,’’ gurgled the official. ‘‘Why, I was
simply having a little fun at his expense, I
haven’t any instructions to arrest him; My
morning’s mail brought me word of Lord
Vivian’s escapade, and I wanted to frighten
him, Are you the young American whois
trying to tour the world for a wager?’’

‘*Yes, sir,’’? modestly replied our hero.

before you.
bring him to me,
taking to flight.
once,’?’
Hugh left the office and,'glancing up the
street, saw Alan peeping from behind a cor-
ner a block away. Hurrying in that direc-
tion, he soon caught up with the English
youtb. After an explanation and a hearty
laugh, the twain returned to the consulate.
In repayment for his little joke, the con-

Ha! ha! ba! faney him
ring h ack here a
Bring him back | t

was promptly paid. At eleven o’clock the
boys left Odessa. for Constantinople. The
voyage was made without incident, and,
after a brief delay in the ancient city of
Turkey’s Sultan, a steamer was taken to
Port Said.

The boys were fortunate in finding in the
latter place a P, and O. steamer on her way
to Bombay, It was the Deccan, a large and
very comfortable vessel, especially fitted for
Red Sea travel. They boarded it at once,

 

Hugh, |

‘*Confound the fellow, he has placed us in |

and fifty dollars, eh? |

‘‘Not much. I’m making this trip in style, |
and we will travel to Bombay in the first |

to the)

Producing |
said }

at. the bank, |
They have a draft for. me, but they refuse ,

lad turned and darted from the office like a |

will you stop!’’”

The question was addressed to Hugh, who |
nodded assent. The abrupt disappearance of |

‘‘Humph! you have a dused hard task |
But run after that boy and |

sul-general cheerfully identified Alan at the |
bank, and the draft for one thousand pounds |

DE VS

and were soou on their way through the Suez
{ Canal.

The voyage was full of interest to both
lads, and they visited every port called at
by the steamer. Just ten days after leaving
Port Said the heights‘of Malabar Hill, mark-
ing the site of Bombay, became visible from
the deck of the Deccan.

In due course of time the harbor was en
| tered, exposing to view the main portion of
the island with its stretch of shore crowded
with imposing buildings, its tortresses and
water batteries and its vast fleet of merchant
| ships.

After stopping for a few moments at Well-
‘ington pier to discharge the mails the stearher
proceeded to an anchorage off the Custom
House. Here Hugh and Alan landed with
the rest of the passengers, and after opening
their baggage before the officials, stepped
forth into the streets of Bombay.

As they passed from the Custom House a
lithe, dark-skinned native who from his
| characteristic dress of long flowing robe and

peculiar flat circular turban was evidently a
Brahman, darted from a group of idle spec-
tators and slipped close behind them.

The fellow’ scrutinized them ‘unnoticed,
_ then he slackened his pace, and followed the
| lads to a carriage. He stood near by, and
after overhearing Hugh order the driver to
| take them to Watson’s Esplanade Hotel, he
turned and hurried down an adjacent street.

After walking probably a dozen blocks he
| slipped into a long narrow thoroughfare
; called Shiek Abdul Rahman street, which
marks the boundary of the native town.
Again changing his course the,Brahman pro-
ceeded a short distance and entered a low
| wooden building.

As he passed into the front room a youth
| seated near a side window rose and eagerly
| approached him. That the solitary occupant
of the apartment, was not a native was
plainly apparent by his face and his clothes.
He was thin and sallow, and appeared to be
not more than twenty years of age. A jagged
|red and scarcely healed scar upon his fore-
head indicated that he had been recently in-
jured.

‘*You have news, Haidar,’’ he said excit-
edly. ‘‘I see it by your actions.’’

‘*Yes, sahib, [I have news,’’ replied the
Brahman in a deep voice.

‘*They are here?’’

‘*Yes, they have this moment landed from
ithe steamer. Iam sure of their identity.
They have gone to Watson’s Hotel on the
| esplanade.’’

‘‘ At last, at last!’? exclaimed the youth,
clapping his hands. ‘‘I have had a long
| wait, but they are in my grasp again. Hai-

dar, you must offer your services to them at
;} once. Remember the plan we have adopted.
Go to the hotel immediately and tell them
that you know India like a book. Mention
all parts of it, and casually drop the name
of Dumpore. If I am npt mistaken they will
You know what to do.

hire you at once.
| Now go.’’

‘*And the pay, sahib?’’

‘*What about it? Haven’t I promised you
| five hundred rupees in three installments.
one to,be paid when they hire you, the sec-
/ond in Lahore and the last when you brmg
| proofs of their deaths, or capture in Dum-

pore? Isn’t it satisfactory???’

| ‘*Yes, perfectly; I simply wanted you to
name the terms once more. 1 go now to the
hotel. You wait here, and if I do not find
the time to see you before we leave I will
send a messenger. You can follow us to La-
| hore by the next train.’’

The Brahman bowed profoundly and left
the room. Proceeding to the hotel he found
Hugh and Alan on the point of starting for
a brief trip through the city. Respectfully
approaching them he saluted and said obse-
quiously :

‘‘Pardon your slave, sahibs, but he wishes
a moment’s interview with you. Will you
kindly grant it?’’

“What is it??? asked Hugh, eying the
quaintly attired figure with some curiosity.

‘*My name is Haidar Dhuan, and I am a
professional guide. I know the interior like
you do your own home, and I wish to offer
my services if it is your intention of visiting
| Lahore and the out-lying principalities.’’

‘‘We have it in mind,’’ quietly replied
Hugh, then he added significantly :

‘‘There may be parts of India you would
not care to go to just now? Is it not so?’?’

‘<Tf your excellency means Dumpore, where
‘the bad prince is fighting our benefactors,

the English,’’ calmly replied the Brahman,
‘‘T am willing to guide you there also,’’
“You are? Why, man, don’t you know it

is almost impossible for a foreigner to enter
that territory with, his life now?’’ exclaimed
Alan.
| ‘I repeat what I said, sahibs. I know
|more than one way to reach the prince’s
| stronghold, and if you desire to try it, Ill
take you there in safety.’’

‘‘Another example of your good luck,
Hugh,’ said the English lad with a smile.
‘‘We had better engage him while we can,’’
| ‘I think you are right,’’ replied our hero,
| joyfully, then he turned to the Brahman and
| added :
|* ‘*We will employ you. Come into the hotel
| and we will settle about terms. I can tell you
| now though that your reward will be great

if you succeed in giving us a safe conduct in
and out of Dumpore within a week.’’

Four hours later the noon train of the

 

ss
a

<catillcks agplilanitt ces chsacsi

Bombay, Baroda and Central India Railway

left its station in the suburbs with Hughy
| Alan, and their newly engaged guide as
| passengers. As they sped on into the interior
of the mystical land of the sun worshipers
they little thought of the far-reaching influ-
ences of Amos Huddlestone’s gold!

(TO BE CONTINUED.) .

A splendid new serial by William Murray
Graydon next weelc.

o> 0-e - -
[This Story Will Not be Published in Book-Form.

THE LOST OPAL OF MYSORE:

OR,

THE SECRET OF THE GHANTS,

BY WILLIAM MURRAY GRAYDON,

Author of “In Barracks and Wigwam,” «The
While King of Africa,” **Jungles
and Trailors,” ele.

(‘THE Lost OPAL OF MYSORE” was commenced
in No. 305.. Back numbers can be obtained of all
News Agents, )

CHAPTER VII.

THE FIGHT AT TIPPOO SAHIB’S BARRIER.
\ UICK as he gave the command pink
() was crouching deep/in the wayside

vegetation. ‘he boys dropped clum>

Gi™ sily beside him; for a second or tw?
their hearts seemed to stop beating, and they
felt an icy chill creep through their veins:

At no time had the fugitives been 12
tighter place than now. It was terribly ®Y-
ing to lie there and listen to the ominous
voice of danger in both directions—from t
rear the faint metallic ring of iron-shoe
hoofs, from in front a louder and dullet
sound that as yet baffled recognition. :

Pink cocked his rifle and glanced sidewayt
at Jack and Myles. They understood, a0
two more hammers rose with a sharp chee

Paltu was busy at something else. He bé
one ear to the ground, and his band was be-
hind the other. fi

‘(An elephant, sabibs,’’ he whispered, @2%
just then an elephant actually did jum bel
into sight a short ways up the cross-road. ig
was handsomely caparisoned, and bore on
back a square howdah, in which sat two per;
sons, evidently servant and master. i

The latter was a stout, full-bearded or}
ental, with the dress and pompous beariDB
of a rich zemindar or land-holder, The ote
was ani aged Hindoo, gray-haired and digt
fied. In front of the howdah was perche
thin and wiry little mahout.

The hidden watchers drew long
relief. Three rifle hammers were softly
ered to half-cock, —

““They’re only. travelers,’’ whisper
Myles, ‘‘but they chose a mighty awkeaa %
time to drop along. Ob, why don’t tb
hurry???’ tied

‘They can’t disappear too soon,’’ reP ing
Jack, ‘‘Hark! The troopers are ¢0
nearer.’’ ’

But as ill-luck would have it the ™
halted the huge quadruped on the inte
tion of the two paths. The zemindar 4?
servant glanced uneasily down the cross) ing
They heard the tramp of the approa@™ je
troopers and were discussing it in low ™

It was a critical time for the fugitive
their suspense was happily cut short by. ous
conception in Pink’s brain of a stupe
idea. . for
‘*Lads,’’ he whispered, ‘‘’ere’s a chance tS)
us. Obey orders and do as I do, That’?

With this Pink rose suddenly up and + as
a bead on the zemindar’s breast. Aime nd
quickly Myles and Jack had the serval™ 4 co
the mahout covered.’ The latter tre™?™ the
wiolently that he let his goad fall %
ground. ;

‘‘Down with you,’? commanded Pi
getting to speak Hindoostanee. ‘‘No f0°
We’re in a “urry.”’ ‘ :

The zemindar was a plucky fellows
his face flushed with rage: ‘i €

‘“Dogs, ye shall pay dearly for toolbar
cried, in fairly good English. ‘*I am ~ J
Singh, a land-holder of Mercara in Coote a)
am journeying.peaceably homeward tbr
the territory of Mysore——’’ rif

‘“‘Get down,’’ persisted Pink, ane f
‘*You’re not going to be murdere 0 pant
bed. _We only want to borrow your eleP
for a while.’’

breaths of
low’

ahout

d bis

for"
Dk ing:

aud

yp

mir
Vith an evil scowl on his face thé manly
dar‘ nodded to the mahout, who i0%
made the elephant kneel.

4 the
Master and servant climbed ouf of ‘ide:
howdah and stood a few feet to one
Both bristled with swords and dagg@"
neither had fire-arms, pow
‘*Up with you,’’ cried Pink. ‘‘ Lively
Myles and Paltu scrambled into. t
dah, and as Jack followed ‘them hé
the servant’s eyes fixed strangely ™P

There was no malice in the look. It & a
yo

put

OF age
yes!
P’ on #

touch of affection, as though the S18

lad vibrated some long-forgotten ©

memory in the old Hindoo’s heart.
‘‘Your elephant will be back ere mi dat.

set,’? added Pink, turning to the 7

““Tf you want satisfaction apply 6?

 

bea

4 &

rset |

eS: |
tol hil

the

sudden amazement and incredulity of we
fo

 

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ay
by
as

31'S
jue

‘ay

8

 

 

 

 
    
  
   
 
   
 

he
oth

    
 
  
     

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5

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GrooDp

the travelers, there was no sign of life.
| Presently the walls began to converge, and |
| when they were twenty yards apart, Tippoo | really scarcely five seconds—until Pink

The next instant Pink was in the howdah, | Sahib’s barrier rose suddenly from the trees
and as quickly the mahout tried to wriggle | and jungle.

the ground.

But Pink leaned forward and caught the |

fellow by the back of the neck, at the same
iMe préssing the cold muzzle of a pistol to
IS forehead, and jabbering angry Hindoo
Stanee into his ear.

his genflestyle of argument was effective, |

id the mahout instantly became as tract-
Qbleasalamb. Ata word from him, anda
uch of the goad, the elephant rose from

» “Sknees, wheeled to one side, and plunged |
P"P-the mountain path with long and rapid |

Strides.
Holkar Singh glared vindictively after his

Stolen quadruped, and called down fearful |
The aged Hin- |
00 stood with uplifted hands, straining his |

@ledictions on the thieves.

"Yes to get a last glimpse of Jack. Thena

ie : : . .
p*trve of the road hid them from view.

nN the daring act had transpired in a very |
Mef time, and the fugitives now began to |

Bh alize that they had once more eluded their
lood-thirsty pursuers.
fas he tramp of hoofs grew fainter
Minter in the distance until it could be
ard no more. On and on went the ele-
ant, striding clumsily over rocks and logs
& pace no horse could equal on so rough a
Toad

 

ie howdah swayed and shook dizzily, but
Ty, Straps held as fast as did its occupants.
he mahout clung to his perch like a monkey.
if It won’t do the zemindar any ’arm to
bat a ‘bit,’? said Pink. ‘‘We treated ’im
Milly, Jads, but it ’ad to be. Jove! ’ow
Marly the troopers nabbed us. Now we’re
the Of danger. From ’ere the road pierces
1 © ghauts, and I doubt if the ’orses can fol-
= at all.’
‘It was rare luck to get the elephant,”’

   
    
   
      
 

plied Myles, ‘‘only I’m sorry we had to

in that way. I can hardly believe

Uwe are near our journey’s end.’’

de Two hours at most ought to'see us there,’’

Slaied Pink. ‘‘And then——”’

‘6 knit his brows and appeared to be pon-

P 2g some knotty question.

al? boys did not disturb him. They kept

5 Close atch on the mahout and discussed

a Strange conduct of the old Hindoo, which
ad observed.

  

  

yh, ° Wished to cast an evil spell upon you,
or

iib Wyngard,’’ said Paltu.
Ore likely he was a thug,’’ suggested.
ie) laughing, ‘‘and was sizing up your

?

=. for the sacred noose.’’
bli L don’t pretend to account for it,’ re-
is Jack in a grave tone, ‘‘but I know I

wnt forget that look of his in a hurry.’’
iY Np Nk now came out of bis brown study and
Thy ecsed that the interrupted lunch should
DW. Shed. So half of the bag of provisions
© Shared \and quickly eaten.

by ® howdah was well stocked with food,
x y nis the boys did not touch.

oh fanwhile the elephant kept up its clumsy
Over .wooded mountain. spurs and
gh deep ravines. The path was at times
reeptible, but occasional glimpses ahead
hill-top gave Pink all the guidance that
heeded.

4 Y two o’clock in the afternoon the fugi-

 
  

  

ron
the

 

had traveled ten miles on elephant
Mayo were now in the very heart of the
> ,uts.

.

4 minutes later they emerged from a

Ki high orest at the base of the twin peaks,
ty reared their stony heads two thousand
air, and stood guard oves the entrance
‘r Myattrow and sombre valley.
©™mahout made the elephant kneel at

be command, and the weary travelers
My 284 out of the howdah. They were stiff
; ‘Rigg oe from the violent jolting, and it was
aN, to feel the ground under foot again.
Wage Mahout was the picture of fear, for he
A “ntly believed that his captors were
j nee to kill him. ‘When Pink spoke a few
S to him in Hindoostanee his dusky face
ea with joy, and he salaamed_ pro-
Y. He made the elephant rise, and
ad him about. An instant later both
tt “nished in the forest, and the fugitives
Alone,
3 ell, what next?’’ asked Jack.

hy 2ROo Sahib’s barrier,” replied
2 Stifly led the way into the mouth of

Val

he ;
t .
Noe

Pi,

atin

   

    

 

 

 

   
   
   
   

   

ley. ‘Once we pass that we’re safe.’
Sys looked at one another mysteri-

 

 

    
  

, . . ,
aving seen it I can’t say exactly,’’

   
  

 

Ran et | ‘eard in the palace that night

nt] this the lads had to be content, and
de. and in single file they followed their

  
   
  
     

9

hing aearly an hour they traced the up-
eq aoe of a brawling torrent that
Ratio, Use gigantic trees and dense
he Visibi Here and there signs of a path
q ®, but it had evidently not been
‘he Uman feet for many years

S Wide was less than a quarter of a

in and deeply shadowed by parallel

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

   

  
 

 

 

 

  
 

  

e
lg

 

 

tw; Sheer rock

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

Was ;
OM ‘& weird and dismal place, and the

~ Was like that of twilight. Except for

    

 

 

| listened for a moment.

 

Pink, |
| the water,

 

It was really-a gorge, for it was |

h only slightly lower than} the awful truth.
Hyp Peaks of ‘which they were a contin-| left their veins as they saw Mogul Mir’s

The boys uttered cries of amazement, and |

4. ©, . + “ | > > .
even Pink was impressed by the wonderfulh| hoarsely. ‘‘You’ll find a stone with a ’andle
sight.

monument to the

rajah—a

g Here was a fit
ancient Mohammedan

granite

The stones were of vast dimensions, and
had been well fitted together. Not a crevice
or projection offeréd hope of scaling the bar-
rier. Its frowning front was sheer
smooth, and above its flat summit the moun-
tain walls towered nearly two thousand feet

| higher,

At its base a rusty arched grating served
as an outlet ‘for the stream, which here
rested tranquilly in a sort of pool before
beginning its turbulent flow down the valley.
Behind the grating was pitch blackness.

‘‘What did Tippoo Sahib mean by build-
ing such a thing?’’? was Jack’s comment
after a critical survey of the barrier.

‘¢Partly to keep the treasure safe,’’ replied

| Pink, ‘fand no doubt partly for other rea-
and | sons known only to ’imself.’?’

‘*You don’t mean to say that we must
climb that wall to get at the opal?’’ ex-
claimed Myles. ‘‘We can’t. do it, that’s all.’

‘‘We might as well try to scale the cliffs,’’
added Jack, laughing.

‘Old on, lads,’’? said Pink, a_ little
sharply. ‘‘Did I say we were going over the
wall? There’s a way through it, according
to old Tippoo’s written document, which I
*eard read and discussed in the palace——’’

‘*By the grating?’’ cried Myles and Jack
in one breath. :

‘*Yes; that’s the beginning of the combin-
ation. Come on; there’s no time to waste.
The bloody troopers will kill their ’orses to
overtake us.”’

Pink glanced uneasily down the gorge and
Then he waded into
the icy pool and the boys followed him.

As the. water rose to their hips they re-
moved their cartridge belts and revolvers
and held them overhead. They were waist
deep when they reached the grating and
peered curiously between the rusty bars.

They saw a vaulted space with slimy walls
to right and left. At the farther end, three
or four yards distant, a broad sheet of water
fell noisily from a height of six feet.

The place where the stream entered the
barrier was invisible, though a dusky gleam
of light quivered on the brink of the cat-
aract.

The barrier was evidently enormousty
thick—four yards at the lest. It was equally
clear, from the presence of the waterfall,
that Tippoo Sahib had chosen a building site
just where the stream dropped to a lower
level.

While the boys were looking within Pink }

had given his attention to the grating. Now
he handed one of the spades to Paltu, and
his rifle and equipments to Jack and Myles.

‘7Old those,’’ he shouted, loudly enough
to be heard above the roar of the water.
‘‘Don’t mind the wet. We'll ’ave a fire to-
night.’’

Then, with the other spade, he vigorously
attacked the arched grating. But all in vain,
he twisted, and pried, and jammed the stout
iron bars. In spite of nearly a century of
service they were welded as tightly as ever
into the masonry.

Pink stopped, and looked ina troubled way
at his companions as he wiped the perspira-
tion from his face. He was about to renew
thé attack when he suddenly discovered that
the grating was only an inch or two under
water.

With a laugh at his own stupidity, he
bobbed out of sight like a flash, and an in-
stant later his dripping head and shoulders
emerged on the inner side of the bars.

‘¢Your turn next, lads,’’ he shouted.
ain’t ’ard; ’ere, give me your traps first.’’

The boys passed everything through the
bars to Pink until he fairly staggered with
the weight. Then, one by one, they took the
cold plunge and came up inside the vault.

For several minutes they huddled together
with shivering limbs and chattering teeth.

Along each side of the vault was a_ plat-
form of masonry raised a few inches above
On the one to the right Pink de-
posited the weapons and other articles. Then
he waded to the foot of the waterfall and

‘What is it like?’’ exclaimed Myles. | looked up at it with a smile of satisfaction.

‘‘No man could scale that,’’ he muttered

k’s answer. ‘‘But we'll soon be there | to himself; and I doubt if there’s a clean
| outlet above.’’

As he returned to his companions he drew

| a waterproof matchsafe from his pocket, and

snapped the lid open.

‘‘Now, lads,’? he exclaimed, ‘‘we must
’ave a little light for the next figure of the
combination. _ You’ll feel warm enough
when the climb begins.’’ ;

The match had scarcely been scraped
when it dropped with a hiss into the water.
Pink’s face turned ghastly white, and he
made a mad dash for the platform.

The boys were astounded for an instant,
but a quick glance through the bars revealed
Every sense of chilliness

ugly face and scarlet
the edge of the forest.
Behind him came trooper after trooper,

jacket emerge from

back at the grating, a rifle in his hands
a brace of revolvers in his bosom,

 

wall one hundred feet high that |
stretched across the gorge from cliff to cliff. | though petrified.

and |

 

“TT

 

 

NEWS.

4923

 

| 8h resident at Mysore in about a week from hissing serpents that wriggled away before all on foot and all bristling with rifles and
Stow. And you’ll .be ali the more likely to
) 8t it if you detain these cut-throats coming
» YOnder as long as you can.’’

tulwars.

It seemed a long time—though it

‘‘T’ll attend to these devils,’’ he shouted

to it on the right side. It must be there.

But the
them. They heard a thunderous report at
their ears and saw Mogul Mir spin around
and clap one hand to his arm,

Crack! crack! A trooper went down like

|a log and another pitched head-first into tke

stream,

Then drifting powder smoke partly hid the
scene, and the roar of the cataract
drowned in shrill cries and the angry belch
of fire-arms.

‘*Are you mad?’’ yelled Pink, seeing that
the boys were still there. ‘‘Off with you.
Open that stone.’’

He stopped shooting long enough to thrust

| his matchbox into Jack’s hands and jerk him

violently. to the right.

This broke the spell, and the three lads
splashed hastily away from the bars; bullets
were whistling overhead and behind them.

They climbed out upon the stone platform,
which was a yard beyond the grating, and
thus out of range. They vaguely remembered
Pink’s instyuctions, and ran their hands up
and down the slimy wall.

With nervous fingers Jack scraped a
match, and right in front of his breast he
saw an iron handle protruding from a block
of masonry two by three feet in dimensions.
His shout of joy brought Myles and Paltu to
his side, and all three took hold. For halfa
minute they tugged and pulled in vain.

No aid could be expected from Pink. His
repeating rifle was empty now, and he was
blazing away at the troopers with a revolver
in each hand. The curtain of smoke was all
that saved him from the hot return fire.

‘¢Pull harder!’’ cried Jack. :,

‘*T can’t,’’ Myles yelled; ‘‘my finger
breaking.’’ ,

Paltu lost his hold and staggered back.

‘Try a gun, lads,’?? roared Pink, as he
dodged to one side of thegrating. ‘‘I can’t
keep them back much longer.’’

are

Then he thrust both pistols out at the |

bars, and emptied the chambers in rapid
succession.

The command to try a gun was understood
by the boys. In a_trice they hag a rifle
through the iron handle and were tugging at
stock and barrel.

Harder and harder they pulled, and sud-
denly the stone swung far enough out to
show it was only six inches thick.

‘* Altogether,’’ yelled Jack, and now, with
a creaking noise, the big slab grated clear
around on a rusty pivot, revealing a yawn-
ing black hole through which surged a fetid
current of air.

The boys cheered loudly and shouted to
Pink that the hole was open.

‘‘TIn with you, quick!’’ came the hoarse
reply.

Myles and .Paltu were the first to enter,

and three feet back in the passage they |
As quickly as |

found room to sit upright.
possible Jack passed in the spades, weapons,
and ammunition.

Then Pink sprang to the lad’s side, having
fired the last charge of his revolvers, and
both plunged into the hole.

For a few seconds all four were huddled

together in confusion, panting hard for
breath in the hot, stifling atmosphere.
Jack had’ mislaid the matchbox and could

not find it.

Pink crawled forward and fumbled about
with his hands until he found an iron han-
dle. similar to the other, that was riveted to
the inner side of the slab.

He called for help and Myles instantly re-
sponded. ‘Just as both began to pull the
troopers swarmed up to the bars, and an
instant later half a dozen of them dived
under the grating and rose inside the vault.

But the great slab was now moving on its
rusted pivot in response to the vigorous tugs

of Pink and Myles. Nearer and nearer swung |

the outer end.

‘‘Only ’alf a foot more,’’ cried Pink; and,
as he spoke, there was a scraping noise and
a flash of yellow light. Jack had found the
matchbox.

Alas! just then the slab stuck obstinately
fast, and through the narrow gap that was
still open the glare of the burning match
shone on the dusky, ferocious faces of two
of Mogul Mir’s troopers.

CHAPTER VIII.

IN WHICH A THRILLING TRIUMPH TURNS TO
BLACK DESPAIR.

FAS T this critical moment  Paltu’s

peer ne and ready wits saved
a imself and companions from a ter-
-\ > rible fate, Quick as a flash the little
Hindoo snatched up a loaded revolver and
thrust if at Pink.

    

The latter let go of the handle to seize the
weapon, at the same time pushing Myles to

one side, ’

By this time one of the troopers, had hold
of the slab, and the other was making ready
for a deadly stroke with his tulwar.

Then in rapid succession
was | chambers of the revolver point blank.
was |

hard, and
| mighty effort.

| started to
|shut, and instantly the wild uproar on the
outer side faded to a low, indistinct hum.

was |

| vertical bolts on

 

 

The bfow fell, but Pink cleverly dodged it.
he emptied three

The stunning reports put out the match and

and | filled the passage with smoke. Above the
| thunderous echoes were heard two loud

splashes as the dead or dying ruffians reeled
| off the platform.

The outer vault was now swarming with

massive | Pull it ’ar@. Quick, lads, for *eaven’s sake.’’ | troopers, and their fierce yells made the boys
boys. stood still in the water as |
A spell seemed to be upon |

shudder.

Pink grabbed the iron handle, set his teeth
threw all his strength into one

With a harsh creaking the ponderous slab
move. Thud! it swung sullenly

Pink dropped limply back, exhausted and
panting. But he instantly struggled to his
knees, and called hoarsely for a light.

Jack quickly struck a match and crept
forward. The flame revealed two massive
the face of the slab, and
under each, in the floor of the passage, was

|‘a deep socket.

The bolts were warped and rusty, but Pink
attacked them with a spade, and soon drove
them home.

‘“Safe at last, lads,’’ he cried. ‘‘A
’undred men won’t open thatslabnow. I’m

glad the bloody part of the work is over.”’

‘*You must have shot a good many of the
troopers,’’ said Jack. ‘‘I’ll never forget the
faces of those last two.’’

‘*A little more and they would have pulled
the slab wide open,’’ added Myles.

‘‘Tt ’ad to be,’’? Pink muttered. ‘‘It was
their lives or ours. _And now we must be
off, lads. The air in ’ere an’t any too pure.”’

The boys were eager to ask more ques-
tions, but Pink was already crawling deeper
into the passage on hands and knees.

‘*Keep a.match burning, Jack,’’ he di-
rected, ‘‘and don’t lose the box. It never
entered my stupid ’ead to bring lanterns.’’

At a distance of ten feet from the slab the
low corridor terminated in a small square
chamber, from which a flight of stone steps
ascended into gloomy blackness.

Pink led the way up very slowly, so that
Jack, who was next him, could easily man-
age the supply of light.

At short intervals the steps twisted and
zigzagged in a most bewildering manner,
and the higher the party mounted the purer
and cooler they found the air. Their admir-
ation was aroused by the strength and solid-

|ity of the stone work and by the intricate

planning of the cavernous passage.

Suddenly they saw a glimmer of gray light
overhead, and a few more steps brought them
to an arched exit from the barrier.

Passing through they found themselves on
a small projecting balcony surrounded by a
low parapet.

For several minutes they stood in mute
wonder and delight. Beneath them the great
barrier dropped sheer seventy feet to the
ground, while its summit was thirty feet
overhead.

To right and'‘left the grim mountain walls
seemed to pierce the sky as they converged
far in the distance. Between them lay the
continuation of the gorge which Tippoo Sahib
bad so effectively barred to man and beasf.
From such @ height, and in the murky light,

| the narrow strip of forest resembled a long,
| black ribbon.

‘*T wonder if the troopers have gone,’’ said
Myles. ‘‘I’d like to havea peep down the
other side of the barrier.’’

‘*Is there no way by which they can cut
around and get at us?’’ inquired Jack.

‘*Not unless they travel about thirty miles
on foot and over the toughest kind of coun-
try,’’ Pink replied, ‘‘and I ’ardly fear
they’ll try that, since they’ve got dead and
wounded to care for. If I ’ad aimed a little
better Mogul Mir would ’ave a_ bullet
through ’is ’eart instead of ’is arm.’’

‘‘And how about the opal?’’ exclaimed
Myles. ‘‘I hope we don’t have to go down
there after it,’’ pointing into the valley.

‘*But we do, lad,’’? said Pink, quietly.
‘*That’s why I brought the rope along.”’

‘*And how will we get back? We can’t
shin up a seventy-foot rope.’’

‘¢We could if we ’ad to,’’ answered Pink,

| but it would be ’ardly safe to return through

the barrier. We might find the troopers
waiting on us outside the grating.

‘Our best plan is this, lads,’? he added:
‘(We'll get the opal and then push on
through the gorge and the mountains to the
coast. That’s about fifty miles, and when we
strike a seaport we can telegraph to My-
sore.’ 7

‘Just the thing,’’ exclaimed Myles. ‘‘We’ll
try to hit Mangalore and come home from
there on horses: It is a military station, and
we’re sure to get an escort.’’

‘«Bxactly,’’ asserted Pink, ‘‘and as the
troopers might take it into their ’eads to cut
around through the ghauts, we won’t loose
any time in finishing things up and getting
clear of the gorge. So ’and over the rope.’’

Jack had one coil and Paltu the other.
Pink unwrapped them and knotted each. at
short intervals. Then he tied the two to.
gether, and fastened one end to the crenated
parapet. When lowered to its full length the
rope dangled within several feet of the
ground.

The boys glanced uneasily at one another.

‘**f don’t like the looks of it,’’ said Myles.
‘If it sways much [ know I’) grow dizzy.”'

 
4924

‘¢{t’s bound to do that,’’ said Jack.

Pink knitted his brows thoughtfully for a
uioment. Then he hauled up the rope and
made it six feet longer by means of the rifle
straps.

‘¢We’re all right now,’’ he declared, as he
deftly fashioned a running noose in the end.
‘‘Which of you will go first?’’

Jack pluckily volunteered, and the noose
was tightened under his arms, His compan-

ions lowered him over the parapet and slowly |

paid the rope out.

The lad safely reached the ground and the
noose was drawn up. In like manner Paltu
was then lowered.

Pink looked critically at Myles. ‘‘I’m
afraid you’re too heavy for me,’’ he said.
‘‘Can you go it alone now?”’

As there was obviously no other course,
Myles declared that he could. Pink leaned
over the parapet.and shouted down to Paltu
and Jack to draw the rope taut.

In fear and trembling Myles began the
descent, not daring to gaze into the dizzy
gulf over which he was dangling. But the
rope swayed very little, and confidence grew
as knot after knot slipped through his hands.

At last the ordeal was over, and he stood
on firm ground, flushed with triumph.

Pink now hauled up the noose and lowered
all the traps in a bunch, Then the three lads
held the rope tight for him, and he slid
safely and quickly down.

‘“‘P’m glad that’s over,’’ he exclaimed.
‘* You chaps showed lots of nerve. If we go
right ahead with the rest we may finish be-

fore dark, and snatch a bit of sleep to}

freshen us for the long tramp.’’

‘¢How about the rope?’’ inquired Myles.

‘‘We’ll leave it ’ang ’ere,’’ Pink replied.
‘‘No use to tear it down. Right about face,
lads. Forward, march!’’

In single file the little party followed the
stream up the gorge. It was now late in the
afternoon, and the gloom was intense. The
narrow strip of blue sky beyond the lofty
mountain walls was beginning to pale.

Now and then weird, blood-curdling cries
were heard in the distance, and once some
huge animal, stirred from its lair, bounded
away through the timber.

‘‘That proves the gorge to ’ave an outlet,’’
muttered Pink, who had his rifle on the half
cock as he went along.

When Tippoo Sahib’s barrier was nearly a
mile behind Jack suddenly stood still, trem-
bling like a leaf.

‘‘Took!’? he yelled, hoarsely; ‘‘a tiger.’’

“Two of them!’ cried Myles; and, sure
enough, a pair of huge yellowish animals
were seen facing each other from opposite
sides of the path, and only a dozen feet
ahead. ,

Pink’s rifle went to his shoulder and he
fired at the nearest of the beasts. The lond
report startled a swarm of monkeys and
birds, who chattered among the tree-tops.

But the tiger never moved, and the next
instant Pink ran boldly up to it and clapped
it on the back.

‘‘What an idiot I am!’’ he cried to the
horrified lads. ‘‘I might ’ave remembered
where we are. The beast is made of stone,
and yonder stands a whole troop of them.’’

Their fear banished, the boys were disposed
to laugh at Pink’s hasty shot. When they
had joined him they were amazed to find

about ten feet apart.

Each one was of enormous size, and was |
| first.

magnificently carved out of yellowish rock.

The avenue was carpeted with wavy grass,”

and through the centre rippled the stream.
At the farther end a domed temple loomed
still and dark out of the twilight. Behind
each row of tigers the forest was like a black
wall.

It was a weird and solemn place, and as
the little party went slowly forward a feel-
ing of superstitious awe stole over them—a
reverence for the remote antiquity to which
these imperishable monuments testified.

Pushing on they reached the end of the
avenue. Here the torrent deviated from its
straight course to describe an are around one
side of an oval-shaped patch of earth and
rock which rose three or four feet from the
centre of the valley. It was about ten yards
long, and looked as though nature had in-
tended it to be an island.

But, instead of flowing both ways around
it, the stream washed only the left side, To
the right was a sort of semi-circular dry
gully, and, of course, its bottom was some-
what higher than the level of the water.

On the centre of this raised, mound-like
formation stood the temple, surrounded by
tall, rank Brass. Being on the right bank of
the stream, Pink and his companions were
able to reach it without wading.

The once majestic structure was now in
ruins. Fallen columns and stones obstructed
the floor, and in the carving of the cornices
birds and bats had made their nests. The
roof was still supported by a number of
gigantic stone figures, whose grotesque faces
looked life-like in the misty gloom.

‘*How old do you suppose this place is?’’
asked Jack.

‘‘Hundreds of years,’’ replied Myles.
‘*Many of the Hindoo temples were built in
the twelfth century, and likely this is one of
them,’

‘‘That’s about right, lads,’’? chimed in
Pink. ‘‘Long before Tippoo Sahib’s time the
Hindoo raijahs used to a buried ’ere, Every

| ping and praised old
themselves at the entrance to an avenue of | it
stone tigers which stood in a double line |

| Pink vetoed that by saying:

GooDp

| tiger stands for a tomb, and that’s why the
|place is called Tiger tomb. It was sort of
| sacred to the people and they came ’ere on
: pilgrimages. Tippoo was,a Mohammedan,
so ’e built-the barrier out of spite.’’
| ‘*And why did he make the
| through it? asked Myles.’
| ‘*So ’e would ’ave a safe place to take
| refuge in if the people rebelled against him,”’
| was the ready reply, ‘‘and partly,on account
of the opal. Anyhow, that’s ’ow Pershad
| Jung explained it in the palace that night.’
| An indefinable something in Pink’s manner
| suggested that the object of the long, peril-
ous journey was about to be fulfilled.
| ‘‘Is the opal here?’’? Jack eagerly de-
| manded.
| Pink solemnly nodded his head. Then he
| led the boys to the right side of the temple
} and showed them a flat, peaked rock jutting
| our feet out from the bank. Beneath it the
[restless stream had scooped out a sort of
| pool where the blue waters swirled and
| eddied in a circle.
‘‘Straight under the point of that rock,’’
| said Pink, ‘‘Tippoo Sahib buried the opal

passage

| and the other treasure in a brass box.”’

The boys stared down with dazzled and

> eyes. For a moment they were speech-

| less.

| Then Myles cried, in a tone of disappoint-

iment: ‘*1’d like to know how we’re going to
dig the box out.’’

| ‘*The water must be pretty deep,’’ mut-

| tered Jack, ‘‘and it boils like a whirlpool.’’

: Pink winked one eye and whistled:

“Old Tippoo ’ad a way fixed for every-
thing,’’ he remarked. ‘‘That document of ’is
’as proved true so far, and it won’t fail us
now. ‘Ere, lads, I’ll show you something.
Drop the guns, but keep the pistols ’andy in
your belts.’’

This order having been carried out Pink
shouldered the two spades and led the boys
to the extreme upper end of the mound.

‘“Now,’? he said, turning around, ‘‘’ere
flows the stream to one side and there on the
other is a dry gully which an’t very much
*igher. Now what’s the reason the water
never tore that dry channel open in time of
flood, and made an island of this place?’’

The conundrum was too much for the
boys, and they frankly said so.

**Well,’’ added Pink, ‘‘I’ll tell you why.
Under that gully, and running clear along
the side of the mound, is a square drain of
masonry. Tippoo Sahib built it, and turned

under the overhanging rock on the other
side. Then ’e ’eaded the stream back to its
original channel by stopping the mouth of
the drain with a ’eavy stone floodgate, and
to ’ide the work ’e covered it with a layer
of earth.’’

Pink paused, and looked triumphantly at
| his companions. ;

‘*All we’ve got to do,’’ he went on, ‘‘is to
cut open the lower end of the drain, dig the
slab out of the upper end and let the stream
pour through. Just about as quickly as you
can say Jack Robinson the other channel
will be ’igh and dry. And then won’t we
dig the opal up in a ’urry!’’

The boys cried out with wonder and de
light—Paltu as lustily as any. They compli-
mented Pink on his aptitude for eavesdrop-
ipnoo Sahib’s ingenu-

 

y.
They clamored to begin work at once, but

‘*No, lads; we’ll eat what’s left in the bag
Then we can ’andle the spades all the
better.’’

He marched them back to the temple, and,
sitting upon a fallen column, they shared
and ate the scanty bits of food.

The daylight—meagre and gray as it was
—still filtered into the depths of the gorge
when they rose and crept down to the lower
end of the mound..

To properly attack the supposed exit of
the drain they had to stand knee deen in the
stream. Pink used one spade, while Jack
and Myles took turns with the other. They
were soon so heated with the vigorous exer-
cise that they felt no discomfort from their
damp clothes and wet. feet.

Rapidly the roots of the grass and the un-
derlying strata of earth and stone were cut
away. Suddenly a mass of loosened debris
slid down into the stream, laying bare the
yawning mouth of the drain.

It was three feet wide by two in height,
and was built of great slabs of stone, Its
floor was a few inches lower than the sur-
face of the stream, and as soon as Pink
cleared away the rubbish the water backed
in.

‘*That’s enough ’ere,’’ be said. ‘‘Now for
the next cut.’’

He hurriedly led the boys to the upper end
of the gully. Here again they were com-
pelled to enter the stream, only this time the
water was hip deep, and they caught the full
force of the current as it swirled around the
point of the mound.

After five minutes of hard work the edge
of a long, upright stone slab was uncovered.

‘‘Urrah!?? eried Pink. ‘‘That’s the flood-
gate, Jads.’’

Now the spades were handled briskly, and
clod after clod of earth and gravel dropped
into the current and was washed away.

A moment later the stream was beating
against the face of the stone, and the suction

 

was already leaking into the drain.

the stream in while ’e buried the treasure |

 

at their feet told the boys that the water)

NEWS.

‘*Ere goes,’’ shouted Pink; ‘‘out of the
way, now!”

He drove his spade into a crevice between
the slab and the roof of the drain, and pried
it still wider.

One mighty jerk, and then down toppled
the stone floodgate with a tremendous splash.

Instantly the stream was diverted from its
course, and the mad waters leaped and roared
into the artificial channel. So swift and
sudden was the rush of the current that Pink
had barely time to spring upon the mound
and drag Jack with him.

Myles scrambled to land on the opposite
side, but Paltu lost his footing, and with a
shrill cry on his lips he was whirled into the
mouth of the drain.

But Pink had seen the little Hindoo slip,
and he anticipated the catastrophe by run-
ning to the lower ‘end of the mound. He
threw himself flat over the exit of the drain,
and made a grab with both hands into the
raging waters.

An instant later he staggered to his kneés,
dragging Paltu along with him.

The accident and rescue were over so
quickly that Myles and Jack had scarcely

time to be alarmed. Now they hurried to the |

spot with cries of joy.

Paltu was none the worse for his adven-
ture except a bad scare. He quickly recov-
ered from that, and began dancing about to
dry his scanty garments.

‘tIt’s lucky we didn’t all go spinning
through the drain,’’ said Pink. ‘‘It wasn’t
a second after the floodgate fell till the rush
camg. And now let’s’ave a look at the other
side.’”’

In a trice he and the boys were across the
mound and clustered on the rock. They
shouted with delight'to see that the channel
was empty except for a tiny, tricxling
stream in the centre of the bed of sand and
pebbles. One or two inches of placid water
covered the bottom of the pool.

‘‘Shall we begin digging?’’ cried Myles.

‘*Not till we start a fire,’’ replied Pink.
‘‘Tt’s too dark without it, and, besides, we
don’t want wild beasts prowling about.’’

He jumped down into the channel and
splashed across to the low, timbered shore.
The boys followed him and started to gather
wood and dry grass. Black night had fallen
by the time the blaze was flashing ruddily
up and down the gorge. ’

It was a thrilling moment, when Pink ad-
vanced into the pool and took his stand un-
der the jutting rock. Every eye was on him
as he began to dig.’ The. excavation grew
larger, but nothing could be. seen for the
murky water that filled it.

When the sides began to cave in Pink
ealled on Jack for assistance, and both dug
steadily for ten minutes, tossing up a great
heap of sand and gravel,

Suddenly a ringing, metallic sound was
heard. Pink dropped his spadé and fell on
his knees in the water. With both arms he
groped to and fro in the submerged hole.

‘*T ’ad ’old of the box,’’ he cried, hoarsely,
as he rose to his feet. ‘‘It’s anchored down
with chains at each end, so the floods
couldn’t wash it away. Look under yonder
bank for a stake, lads, while I examine this
side.’

On the edge of the pool nearest the temple,
and covered with rank weeds, Pink quickly
discovered the head of a thick iron spike. A
moment later Myles made a similar find on
the other shore.

Both were loosened with blows of a spade
and ‘when they were hauled up a rusty
chain was seen fastened to the extremity of
each and running deep into the sand.

Pink grabbed one spike and Myles and
Jack the other. They advanced toward the
centre of the pool, ripping up the chains as
they went along. They met at the hole and
paused a moment. They were breathing
quickly now and their faces were flushed
and eager.

‘Have away
huskily.

The boys set their teeth and pulled hard.
Paltu ran and took hold with Pink.

Slowly the chains rose up, dragging a
great weight. Soon a shadow was seen under
the water, and then a square, brazen box,
corrugated with the rust of years, came
slowly into view.

Eager shouts rang through the gorge as
Pink and bis companions dragged box,
chains, and all over to the side of the fire.

‘Open it! Open it!’’ cried Myles.

‘‘Stand aside, lads,’? commanded Pink,
seizing a spade and swinging it overhead.
He struck the box a terrific blow on the
side, and the rusted lid flew off in two
parts.

Ah! what a sight was beheld then. Quarts
of precious stones, dull and tarnished though
they were by their long burial, flashed and
sparkled and glittered in the red firelight.

Here were rubies, carbuncles, sapphires,
moonstones, diamonds, and all other vari-
ties that the jewel mines of ancient India
had ever yielded. It was like a chapter from
the Arabian Nights—a reincarnation of a
fabulous treasure of Golconda. ,

For a moment Pink and his companions
were speechless. Jack and Myles trembled
with raptire and Paltu’s’ eyes seemed start-
ing from his head.

‘Rre’s a mine of wealth,’’ muttered
Pink; ‘‘enough to buy Buckingham palace
and the Tower regalia—ay, and the Mansion
?ouse in the bargain.’?

lads,’’? Pink whispered,

 

 

 

i =
= a ipa!

‘*And they are ours,’’ gasped Myles. “We
will all be as rich as any millionaire.”’ F
‘*‘No, lads, they belong to the gover ™
ment,’’ protested Pink, gravely, ‘to ie

majesty Queen Victoria.’’

He stared a moment at the glittering heap
and then thrust his right hand deep dow#
amid the jewels. ‘ Almost instantly he dre¥ 5
out a great milky-blue stone as large ao? 9%
hen’s egg.

‘‘The magic opal,’’ he cried, in shrill @*
cifement. ‘‘Mysore is saved, lads.’’ ,

Hardly were the confident words uttered q
when a dozen unhorsed troopers sprang Witt %
a yell from out the thick timber, and sul %
rounded the little party on all sides. H

The leaping flames shone on a cordon of F
swarthy, helmeted heads, and leveled rifle”
barrels, and drawn tulwars—on the tall fig
ure of Mogul Mir, standing with his arm 19)
the bloody sling, and a gleam of satavle)

. . ©? . .
triumph on his mutilated face. ;

‘“Dogs of liars!’’ he muttered. ‘Nev
will you see Mysore again. Your allotte
hour of punishment has come.”’

(TO BE CONTINUED. )

Have you sent in your suggestions as t the Fe
best title for the “Nameless” story? Remel ys
ber! SIXTEEN magnificent prizes !

> 6 >
[This Story Will Not be Published in Book-Fort)

THE SON OF OLD NICK:

- The Charecal Bumer af the Narruws

BY VICTOR ST. CLAIR, st: Wee
Author of “Slack- Wire Zip,” “Little Snap, the iy f
Boy of the Kanawha,” “Little Hickory of
the Mountain Express,” ‘Zig-Zag, the
Boy Conjurer,” “The Young
Stone-Cutter,”’ ete,
ss
(“THE SON OF OLD Nick’ was commenced in,
299. Rack numbers can be obtained of all X®
Agents.)
CHAPTER XXVIII.
NICK LEARNS THE TERRIBLE TRUTH:
ae TT , boy:
NHE ragged, dust-brown country 7
yp staring right and left with. wn
“\ opened eyes, caught the attentio? od
* the passers-by, many of whom tung A
to look after him, or direct some ill-mea™? Fy”
question to him. . we
Unheeding these, Nick kept on his W%
until at last he paused in dire confusio: ily
a loss to know which way to go, he fina" fe
plucked up the courage to inquire of 4 aly .
nevolent-looking gentleman, who kid T
gave bim the necessary information. ff Bail ¢
ra J d ; #4... to
Thus he eventually found himself 10 oat b ly
of the gray, gloomy-lodking structur first | a

| sent a thrill through his frame at tb

look, i

‘‘Can it be father has fifteen ye
spend there?’’ he asked of himself, im¥®
tarily.

Then seeing one whom he judged t0
official, he stated his errand, to be me
the blunt reply:

‘*No admittance to strangers.’’

‘*But [ have a father there whom
see.’’ see

‘‘We know nothing of that. Let »
what you have’to show who you are. thine

Alas! the Son of Old Nick had Brags
but his Ujl-omened name, and, with @ tu? |
ing heart, he was finally obliged to new
away. In his bitter disappointment was
not which way to turn or what to 4% ith
it for this he had walked so far and a4
such hopes? ; to.®

At this moment Nick was treated "ge.
sight that instantly raised his spirit, aes
had not gone far before he saw peed $0
Veasey on the street. He had neve! *
glad to see any one in his life. whe

““Hilloa, Nick !’* called out the lattet bad
had already seen him. ‘‘How in th@ . Te put
came you up here?’’ plied =e...

‘‘] Game up to see father,’? be Ph,
truthfully. ‘‘But they won’t let me 1

‘Are you alone?’’

‘* Yes, sir.’’ +

‘*You are not recognized by the!,

be a
with |

y must |

Wy er? >

4: Ver ]
4 ey Ut ¢

J et
Fire I
pose. Well, I think I can make it @ | ego | eR
for you, and if you wish to go in I they.
back with you. But it is doubtful } what
will let you speak to him, if that ® 4
you wanted.’?’ veas®)!

Through the kind influence of Mr:

Nick saw his father, but it was 4 1,
satisfactory meeting, if it could be
such. He found prison discipline
that he could only gaze at him,
father was obliged to keep at bis W
out looking up, and of course not
who was near by. His parent ba
considerably, and was looking me b

Nick did not seem to breathe unt,
outside of the sombre building, when

‘*It is dreadful to be there. I ei
very much for your kindness. ! mu re
my way home, if I hope to get
night.”?

‘*Tf you are on foot and alone,
ride with me as well as not.
you might have conie up with me
known you were coming.’’

 

you
St 2
ee eae Se Ss Se tS OS
- = Ca ee . :

a

  
  

| as Se Sieh OF oe ges Tie

) Nick did ride home with Mr. Veasey, and

  

as. We
99 m0 the way he frankly told the farmer what
govern: Pais hopes had been in going to see his father,
“to er Mishing with the declaration:

I believe father is innocent.. I know he
ing heap “= s been shiftless in working, and has done
ep down Many things he ought not, but I cannot
he drew ; Ink he stole Grandmother Locke S silver-
urge asa © / Ware and jewels. I mean to prove him inno- }

" Ot, and then my way will be easier.’’

ll 6%: ae r, Veasey, who had listened kindly , even
wh i aixiously to all he had said, replied:

uttered ‘Nick, I believe your intentions are good,
ang with © o Iam always ready to lend a helping
and sul “8nd to the deserving. I was the best friend

or don of a

sled rifl@ FS Geusure him ;

 

 
  
  
  
 
    
  
   
   
   
   

. tall fig? Mu d upon a foundation of your own, I sup- |
sarm We it is natural for you to think him inno- |
satanle pt, but I have no doubt of bis guilt. I say

a his with the deerest regret. Let his fate be |
<éNevel Warning to you. You are young, and it is

mt too late for you to become a_ respected
son.’

"Can I??? asked Nick, anxiously. ‘*‘ Will
hey let me???

Let you? The first thing you want to do
get the idea out of your mind that
Ybody is against you. I know it is
Mhan nature to step on a man who is
e ‘Wn, but the ambitious boy will not lie
PN tor anybody to step on him a’ second
48. Keep your honest intentions alive and
Work, and I’1] warrant you’li come on

§ } ) Pf the heap at last.’’
1 “at ick was likely to remember that conver-
ati .

ai) for many a day, and that evening at
Le home he was still pondering it over,
hen his wn Plhndtias temht ah” ie
Wh lis mother unexpectedly asked him
ArTOWS: te he had been during the day.
| ; tek Sn, to his surprise, when he candidly
), Lowledged the truth, she manifested

allotted

s as to the
Rement

yok-Formle)

    

   

Sesh
ox

     

 
  

z ) seat interest in the matter, questioning
sia the Post “losey as to all he had seen and heard.
skory OF ie Never realized what it was to go to
g, the rite t@ prison, mother, until to-day. I pity
: Deer. And now I want you to tell me the
ai 6 truth about him. He did not steal,

ced 1.NOl aan abe? He must be innocent of that.”

or all NOY. Whe Sort of vindictive expression stole over
a hardened features, as she asked:

> 2° you want to know the truth, do you?”’
i: ves, mother; Bell and I do.”’
Ayeeots of satisfaction it mus’ be to yer,
hy, Pi stop all this question’. If you mus’
ae yer father was a common thief, born
© bred in the bone, I s’pose.’?’

,

RS
;

We

   
 
       
   
   
       
 

rRUTH-

try bo}:
with wide
t¢entioP “4
om tog
1]-meaDiPe

 

CHAPTER XXIX.

THE SECRET OF THE CAVE.

   
   
  
    
   
  
 

' ria: ‘

My tor’ see any use to.sniffle over it.
ch is to be is, I s’pose. Nobody ever

ie out a helping hand to us, and we

Mj, ©™ for it in our own way. See how

his wa ‘ q eG P itd Tog . :
fusion: RS. BLEA K S tone, as much as her
he final} words, carried grief to the hearts

of & be of Nick and Bell, whose eyes glis-
he jindl) tate, tened with tears at the unfeeling
¥ 2 4 Ply teut of the bitter truth. She did not
sf iD sigh! iin, notice this, and the closely drawn
. tbat | the about her mouth quickly relaxed, while
t

  

      
 
   
  

‘od t0 bes th Sterns serves you, and none of us
ne met Wg Onged him.’’
h isn’t a fair sample to -judge by,
¥ o any more.than we are,’’ Nick added,
m Lee os quivering lip. ‘‘If father did help
0 be, ®t things, he oughter suffer. It must
Let us oe i ® does,’? he could not help saying.
are.” 4 Marg », Well, he’ll get out afore many
oth Son
co : i i What become of the things they took at
od a te Locke’s? I don’t find that they
ont be 5 Ay one anybody any good.’’
to do amt Should jess like to know what become
r and Ay fa Myself. I an’t seen any good of ’em.

 

ther had th’ handlin’ of ’em, an’ he
hey hid ’em in Blake’s Hill Cave:
aobody has ever found hide nor hair of

     
   
 

4 W
phere was the cave you looked for,
Py erp?) J

yt ‘hey by flat-top rock, of course. There

Wy Ut one cave on Blake’s Hill. He said
nM ds Ut Spoons, a bracelet, some rings, and
the &nd a lot of silver money in a pocket

j Mr. $0.
ever bee? 2
who
late work
ies
he rep} a

 
 
   

 
   
   
 
   

  
  

4 in Tock. The pocket he said was stopped

in / ©p P}
ae "i ha other piece of rock. But nobody an‘t
tt ie pocket, to say nothing of the
‘hem, Ve gt lug hee All I ever see was the bits you
it, all vB q hi 8° an’ wouldn’t let me tech. Come
i il! : Near getting yer inter trouble, too.’’

  

ne he questioned his mother consider-
leg in regard to the matter, Nick

dis Nothing of importance. But that did
hy °Urage him, for he believed he had

   
 
   

  
 

    
 

 

   
  

   

   
    
   
   
  
  

Mio ™~ the truth already, or at least that
id be > Hyils ,. -CUnd the key to the mystery.

ine 8 a tol, nothing of his convictions until
w 8, | ©wing morning, when he called Bell
n, ‘

by bi fo ant you to come with me before you
nad ty.3; 001, but don’t say a word to any-
me |: ; ay cticed. that Nick had taken a long
nell pest ide, nd he followed him with looks of
+ thank ang Saying when they had left the val-
y must Ay, Were climbing the hill:

gob ther? 99) you going to look for the treasure,

   

he 138d I think we will find it.”?

woos passed the picnic grounds on
hagy Nick recalling plainly to mind all
4ppened on that eventful day.

   
  
  

  

 

Yur father had, but he deliberately turned |
1S back upon me. However, I am not going | into the cover of a clump of birches until
only I will say to you, | they should pass.

 

A few minutes later he and Bell stood on

the brink of the cliff overhanging the singu- | one end of the rope, began to knot it.

larly located cave.

Quickly making fast one end of the rope iously.
Nick pre- |
Bell to |
stand on the watch while he explored the |
| point of rock that he felt certain would hold |

This precaution was more aptly taken than | the line so it would not slip off.
Nick: realized, for unknown to him and his}

to a clump of birches at the top,
pared to descend the line, intending

cavern.

brother, at the moment they had crossed the
Blake’s Hill road, Virgil Bennett was com-
ing down the hill on his way to school.

ing the rope, he almost instantly divined as
he imagined their errand, and he drew back

‘“*They are going to the cave,’’ he thought,
‘fand that means business. My! I must hunt
up Vast and some of the other boys, and we
must follow them.’’

Unconscious of this threatened pursuit,
however, as we have seen, Nick descended
the rope hand under hand, until he stood on
the shelf leading to the opening in the ledge.

‘‘A pocket in the side of the rock,’’ he
said to himself, as he began to examine
closely the surface of the rugged rock form-
ing the cavern’s sides. Occasionally, long,
irregular rents marked the surface, and deep
fissures were to be seen; but nowhere could
Nick find any trace of the looked-for
‘‘nocket.’’ Picking up a loose stone he be-
gan to pound upon the rocky wall, hoping
to discover a difference in the sound. He
had touched it seemed nearly every part of
the surface from floor to ceiling, when at
last a peculiar, hollow noise followed the
sharp rap he dealt upon the ledge in one cor-
ner, where it looked as solid as anywhere.

‘*Tt’s it!’’ he cried, joyously, repeating his
thumping as far each way as the hollow
echo could be heard, Even then it was only
after a careful search that he discovered the
joints around the square of stone that fitted
into the solid rock.

Elated over his discovery, Nick tried to re-
move the piece from its niche, finding him-
self baftted for what seemed a long time.

Bell grew impatient, and called down to
him.

‘*T have found it!’’ he cried, exultantly.
‘*Come down here as quick as you can,
Bell, and bring a stout stick with you.’’

Finding one more readily than might have
been expected, Bell descended to the shelf
just as Nick had succeeded in loosening the
rock cover.

The next moment a small opening in the
rocky wall was disclosed, and lying in the
dark depths was’ seen a shining heap of
jewels and silverware.

‘It’s the Granny Locke treasures!’’ ex-
claimed Nick. ‘‘See! here are spoons, rings,
a bracelet, and money! It’s all here.’’

‘*What a find!’’ said Bell. ‘‘What are you
going to do with it?’’

Nick was too busy to reply, and at that
moment a rattling sound behind him arrested
the attention of Bell.

Darting back to the shelf of rock at the
entrance, he saw the rope they had used to
descend with coiled up at his feet, while the
sounds of persons moving about overhead
caught his attention. Looking up, he was
startled to find half a dozen pairs of eyes
staring down upon him.

‘*We are lost, Nick!’’ he cried, in a shrill
whisper. ‘‘The rope has been cut, and a lot
of fellers are watching us from the cliff!’’

CHAPTER XXX.

A GREAT MISTAKE.
Y
ICK quickly gathered up the treas.
ures, and, thrusting them back into
\\N the ‘‘pocket,’’ asked:
es ‘Who are they, Bell?’

‘*T can only see their heads. But Vastly
Sterns is there, and Sam Brackett. I[
thought I saw Virgil Bennett, too.*’

‘* And they have cut the rope?’’

‘*Yes, and dropped it on the shelf.
Nick! what are we going to do?’’

‘*T wonder what they are prowling around
here now, of all times? I\ must get these
things out of sight,’’ refitting the stone ir
its place as he spoke.

When this had been done, he took a
ried survey of their situation.

‘‘f am glad they dropped the rope,’’ he
said. ‘‘Perhaps they do not know we are
here.’?

‘*They do! Hear ’em shouting.’’

‘*Hilloa!’’ called out some one from above
them. ‘‘Show your heads if you know when
you are well off.’’

‘*Keep still,’’ whispered Bell,
haps they will go away.’’

‘Tf they know we are here they won’t be
likely to do that before they have done
something to drive us out. I think | had
better speak to them.’’

As the sharp ‘‘hilloa’’ from the brink of
the cliff rang out again. Nick stepped out
upon the narrow shelf of rock, and asked
what was wanted.

‘‘What are you doing there???’ demanded
young Sterns.

‘¢‘Come and see if you want to know,’? re-
plied the boy charcoal burner. ‘‘What did
you want to cut our rope for?’’

‘*So you could, not get away while we
watched you.’’

Oh,

hur-

‘‘and per-

 

GOooD NEWS.

Nick made no reply to this, but taking up

 

‘*What shall we do?’’ asked Bell, anx-

‘‘Let ourselves down to the ground be- |
low,’’ replied Nick, looking about for some |
place to fasten the rope, and soon finding a

While he|
was doing this the watchers above looked
on with wonder, until they divined his pur-

| pose.
At |
sight of the twain, one of whom was carry- |

‘*Here! don’t you do that!’’ cried Vastly
Sterns. ‘‘We will throw a big rock down

| upon you if you do.’’

But Nick did not believe they would dare

| to do that, and as soon as he had made the
| rope fast, he told Bell to descend its length

and drop the balance of the distance to the
earth. As this was not over ten teet, he an-
ticipated no harm.

Bell lost no time in nimbly making the
descent, reaching the foot of the bluff in
safety. Nick followed before those overhead
had recovered from their first surprise.

‘‘We’ll leavé the rope for you,’’ called
back Nick, as he and Bell darted away into
the depths of the forest.

‘*Plague take the coalers!’’ exclaimed
Vastly, in~ disgust. ‘‘Who would have
thought they would have got off-in that
way? Now we are dished. But I tell you one
of us ought to stay here on watch all day.
That Nick Bleak weren’t down there for
nothing.’’

It was finally decided that Virgil Bennett
shoula remain at the place, while the rest
returned to the village with an account of
what they had witnessed. But their story
excited no interest, and the others had not
been there ten minutes before young Bennett
appeared on the scene. He deciared he had
heard the charcoal burners coming, and so
had left as quickly as possible. No doubt the
last part of his statement was true.

Meanwhile Nick had _ returned to the
Birches, having charged Bell to say nothing
of their discovery in the cave.

‘*What are you going to do with the treas-
ure?’?

‘“‘T am going to carry it back to Granny
Locke this evening—everything. That’ll
partly undo the wrong.’’

‘*Dare you, Nick?’’

‘*Wait and see.’’

Nick’s mind was firmly made up in that
respect, and a little after sunset he and Bell
reached the cliff with a new rope and a sack
in which to put the articles,

Satisfying themselves that no one. was in
the vicinity, Nick rapidly arranged the'line,
and descended again to the cave. Finding
the treasure undisturbed, in less than five
minutes he had rejoined his brother with
it all safe and snug in the sack.

In order to reach the home of Mr. Locke,
it was necessary for them to pass through
the village at the Narrows, a course that
even Nick hesitated from following. But it
would be past dark before they could get
there, and blaming himself for fearing any
danger, he led the way toward the road.

To Nick’s regret, he found that a large
crowd of boys were collected in the .single
street, while half a dozen men were gathered
about the entrance to the store. But putting
on a bold front, they kept on their way,
looking neither to the right nor left.

‘*There goes the Son of Old Nick!’? some
one called out, when several boys rushed
forward, the foremost crying, as he caught
sight of the sack in Nick’s arms:

‘*Hilloa! what are you carrying off
there?’’

Without replying, the twain kept on,
though the others still approached, and they
could see that the knot of men at the store
had begun to watch them with curious in
terest.

**Run!?’ whispered Bell.
tackle us!’’

And, regardless of Nick’s warning, the
frightened boy broke into a run, though he
stopped after going a short distance. Of
course, to run was the worse course to be
followed, and it excited the crowd to more
earnest pursuit.

Finding they were going to be assailed,
Nick dropped the sack and catching up a
rock from the ground, turned defiantly at
bay.

**Let us alone!’’
touching anybody.’’

Unfortunately for them, a sharp jingling
sound came from the silverware as Nick let
fall the sack, and the tell-tale noise reached
the ears of the foremost of the would-be
assailants.

‘*He’s been stealing something now. Don’t
let him get away.’’

Nick saw the men coming swiftly toward
him, and in a fit of desperation he hurled
the stone into the air, and catching up the
sack, started to flee.

A piercing cry rang on the air the next
moment, followed by the startling exclama-
tion:

‘‘He’s killed Captain Coe!”’
(TO BE CONTINUED.)

“They mean to

he cried. ‘*We an’t

Arthur Sewall is engaged on another sur-
prise for our readers. Watch the announce-

ment columns.
SO a eee tres

 

On board ship the day is divided into
seven ‘‘ watches, ’’

    

  

4925

Qur §Tamp ‘#LBUM.

{SPECIAL Novrick.—To insure the safe return of
Stamps sent to us for examination, correspondents

SS

 
    

A

; should inclose them in separate stamped envelope,

bearing name and address., The prices quoted are
from current lists, and are subject to change. ]

77>, UR correspondents should be careful
€2 » to write name and address plainly on
the sheet or envelope containing
“<4” stamps sent for examination, as with
the utmost care used stamps will sometimes
get separated from the accompanying letter,
and if marked with owner’s name and ad-

| dress it is easily identified and returned.
a * * Ag

Young collectors should be very careful
about the condition of their stamps. Torn or
badly soiled specimens not only detract from
the appearance of an album, but should the
owner wish to sell he will find that dealers
allow nothing whatever for such stamps in
reckoning the value of analbum. In buying
stamps, always aim to getevenly perforated
and lightly canceled specimens. A neatly
kept, clean albuni, with the stamps nicely
mounted and in fine condition, is of more
credit to a boy than one of double the num-
ber of specimens torn, soiled, and carelessly
pasted in, and will always bring more if
offered for sale.

* * * x

A New York firm is preparing an imprint
album ; it will have spaces for all four sides,
and will be a very neat and useful book for

| plate number collectors.

* * *

We recently received Plate No. 245 (1c.),

and understand Nos. 267 and 268 (2c.) post-

age due) have been issued.
% Es oe *

C. HeH., Jersey City, N. J.—We return
your stamps marked as requested: 2, 5, 10,
20, 25, and 50c. revenue stamps, mixed, are
worth about 25 cents per 100. We think
you must be mistaken about having the 25c.
revenue rouletted, as they were never issued
in that condition.

* * * *

C. B., St. Johns, Mich.—Your stamps are
in such poor condition that they would be of
no use to any stamp dealer. If in good con-
dition, they would be worth about 25 cents.

* 1. * *

L. G. D., Grenada, Miss.—The 5c. Mem-
phis, Tenn., stamp catalogues at $7, used,
and if in good condition you could probably
sell it for $4 to $5. The 30c. 1870 (grilled)
catalogues at $25, but the one you have is
probably the 1872 30e., same stamp but
without the grill, which is priced at 25 cents.

* * % *

V.H., North Wales, Pa.—Of your stamps,
Nos. 1, 2, 3, and 4 are 1862 issue, United
States revenues, and sell at 1 cent each:
No. 5 is a Canada revenue stamp, catalogue
price 1 cent; No. 9 is Argentine Republic,
1890 issue, 2 cents; No. 6 is British Guiana,
1889, price, 2 cents; No. 7 is Jamaica, 1885,
price 2 cents; No. 8 is Mexico, 1894 issue,
price 2 cents; No. 12 is New South Wales,
1888, price 1 cent; No. 10 is Orange Free
State, 1868 issue, price 2 cents, and No. 11
Queensland, 1890 issue, price 6 cents.

* * * *

H. E. F., Portsmouth, N. H.—The stamps
you refer to are the Norway 1863-66 issue;
the 4sk. is catalogued at 2 cents, the 8sk. at

6 cents, and the 24sk. at 80 cents. The 3c.
stamp with network is 1861 issue; the 2c.

revenue and 3c, postage are worth about 10
cents per 100. The playing cards stamp you
could sell for 25 cents per 100 to dealers.
a * ue cS
C. A. H., Lead City, 8S. Dak.—The chief
distinguishing marks of the Paris print of
Grecian stamps are clear impression and
fine shading lines on side of face, while the
Athens print is rough, with coarse shading
lines on side of face. The difference in the
Belgian prints are so slight that they can
only be recognized by critical comparison
with other stamps, and cannot be readily
described.
* * * *
R. L. L., Paris. Ky.—There is no pre-
mium on your coins. ,
ae ae * =
P. P., Randolph, N. Y.—We return your
stamps marked at catalogue prices.
Bis m a ak

C. C. L., Mauch Chunk, Pa.—The 3c. ag-

riculture stamp, unused, sells at 40 cents.
* * * *

C. M., Brownsville, Pa.—Scott Postage
Stamp catalogue can be had of the J. W.
Scott Co., 40 John street, N. Y.

* * *

W. R;,: St.

, Louis, Mo.—The catalogue
price of the stamps you mention is as fol-
lows: United States revenue, 3 cents; for-
eign exchange, 5 cents; 4c. inland exchange,
4 cents; 6c. inland exchange, 10 cents; 10c.
bill of lading, 7 cents: 50c. entry of goods,
1 cent; 50c. conveyance, 1 cent; $1 inland
exchange, 2 cents; $1 lease, 10 cents; $2 con-
veyance, 10 cents; $1 blue and black, 5
cents; 2c. blue and black, 5 cents; 2c. black
and orange, 1 cent; telegraph stamps, B. &
O., 1, 2, and 5c., are worth 5 cents each.
* * *

T. C., Paterson, N. J.—We mark cata-
logue price under your stamps as requested,

  
     
2S

mK L <a

You must remember, however, that dam-
aged stamps are worth but a small fraction
of the catalogue price, and in most cases
are not salable at any price. The large
stamp with picture of steamboat we do not
recognize; it is probably a part of a cigar
or tobacco stamp. The John F. Henry &
Co., is merely a label that company made
in imitation of the stamp they formerly
used: it is of no value. The one, penny is an
English revenue stamp; the 44 is a Spanish
newspaper stamp, worth 2 cents; the Ven-
ezuellan stamp is the 1894 Columbus issue,
worth 15 cents.
* * * *

O. W., Uncasville, Conn.—The following
are the numbers of the lic. regular issue
plates up to date: 2, 6, 15, 17, 18, 21, 24, 27,

29, 31, 38, 35, 98, 99, 101, 102, 119, 120, 121, |
}and wet through, since no one dared to look

122, 165, 166, 167, 168, 177, 178, 179, 180, 234,
237, 245; the 2c. plates are 1, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8,
10, 11; 12, 18, 16, 19, 20, 22, 23, 25, 26; 30,
78, 79, 80, 82, 88, 89, 96, 97, 110, 111,
113,114, 415; 116, 117, 124; 125,
182, 1383, 141, 142, 148, 144, 145,
149, 150, 151, 152, 153, 154, 155,
Toes" 160; 169,170 Veh Peo L783
176, 181, 182, 183, 185, 186, 187, 188,
198, 199, 201, 202, 203, 204, 205, 206,
208, 209, 210, 211, 212; the 3c. plates
44,46, 47, 48, 91, 95, 103, 107: the 4c.
plates are 45, 50, 51, 59, 92, 94, 104, 106; the
5e. plates are 49, 53, 54, 56, 128, 129, 180,
134, 161, 162, 163, 164, 189, 190, 192, 193; the
6c. plates are 28 and 184; the 8c. plate is 58;
the 10c. plates are 55, 61, 62, 63, 64; the
15c. plate is 52; the 50c, plate is 75; the $1
plate is 76; the $2 plate is 84; the $5 plate is
85, and the special delivery, 77.
* ae ok *
Mich.—We can-

146,
156,

174,

F, F. G., Grand Ledge,

not tell exact price on your foreign stamps | 1 ,
| others looking wild

without seeing them, as there are several
varieties closely resembling each other. The
United States revenue 5c. certificate is cata-
logued at 1 cent, and the 7e. with portrait
of Secretary Stanton ‘at 50 cents.

2 * *

1K

L. A., Davisville, W..Va.—Your lot of

stamps is worth about 15 cents.
oK * *

W. L. Z., Seymour, Conn.—Of your
stamps, No. 2 is 1861 issue, Nos. 5 and 6,
1882 issue, Nos. 8 and 9, 1887 issue, and No.
10, 1883 issue; all are catalogued at 1 cent
each. No. 1 is Greece, 1889, price 1 cent;
No. 3 is Sweden, 1872, price 1 cent; No. 4,
English revenue, no value; No. 7, Mexican
official seal, price 10 cents, and No. 11, Aus-
trian newspaper, 1867, price | Gent.
—~~?-*-o

SAVED BY A DERELICT.

HIGGINSON.

BY J, A.

>

HREE hundred thousand dollars, Jim?”
> ‘Yes, that. was her value+ship and
cargo.’?

YF - ¢+Where did you fall in with her???

‘tIn the middle of the North Atlantic, and
glad enough were we.’’

‘‘Naturally—she meant money,’’ I said.

‘*You don’t understand,’’ returned the
old. sailor, quietly. ‘‘At that time we
weren’t thinking of salvage—we’d been
adrift eight days in an open boat.’’

‘*Tell me the yarn, Jim,’’ I said.

He had been rolling between his hand some
tobacco, with which he presently filled his
pipe, and, having lighted it, he began the
uarrative. .

‘‘Tt was somewhere in the early ‘Six-
ties,’ ’’ he,said, ‘‘that I was outward bound
for Baltimore, on board the ship Knight Er-
rant,

‘*She wasn’t a new vessel by a long, way,
but, for all that, she sailed fairly well, and
—what sailors consider more important—
was a dry-going old craft. To be sure, there
was aspell at them pumps every , watch,
but we felt easy if it did not get worse.

‘‘After leaving the ‘Start’ wesaw no more
land, but then the wind headed us off, and
for about five weeks it was a dead beat to
westward. Of course, no one found fault
upon that score, since ‘the more days the
more dollars’ is Jack’s motto.

‘‘At last the weather began to change.
Heavy, Nagusaclootizie clouds swept above
the horizon, and I heard the mate tell our
‘old man’ that the barometer was falling.

‘¢ ‘Take the kites off,’ returned the skip-
per. ;

‘‘In came the royals, and the fore and
mizzen-top-gallant s’ls, and flying-jib. She
was beginning to lie down to it, and
sprinkled the deck pretty freely. During the
afternocn the wind and sea had become still
more lively, but she was slogging at it all
she knew how under a whole main-top-gallant
s’l. Every thump of the seas she took square
on the bow, and always came up smiling,
with the fok’slehead smothered in clouds of
flying spray.

‘*That mate was a fellow to ‘carry’ on.’
He was trying to make a passage, d’ye see,
and, as the skipper never interfered with
the canvas, the mate was doing just as he
pleased. He was standing near me at the
wheel, his weather eye watching the ’gal-
lant s’1 leech, and taiking to,her
she were a human:

‘* “Go it, old girl—you’ve got a tidy keel,
anyhow. That spray around yer nose looks

i'some hobby in his workshop, and,

126, |

 

just as if ;

GOOD

fine! Ease her a spoke, Jim,’ as she gave a
nasty dive that a’most took the wheel out
of my grip.

te “Ay, ay,’ said I, ‘but she
this much longer.’

‘“‘The chief put his head down the cabin
hatchway.

‘* ‘Getting dirtier all the time, sir,’
plied.

‘¢ ‘Then reef her down, reef her
replied the ‘old man,’ who was busy

won’t bear

he re-

down!’

with
when
once fairly started at his lathes, left every-
thing else to his officers.

**Pidn’t it blow that night! Look here,
from supper-time right through to midnight
we were reefing, stowing, and _ getting
tackles aloft to ease the backstays and
braces, till all hands were nigh played out

at an oil-skin. After that we had to
the storm-spencers out of the sail-locker,
and bend and set them. It was no laughing
matter to hang on to those upright jack-
stays in a heavy gale, and more than once I
felt inclined to let go, for the cold and
drenching spume was almost unbearable.
‘‘After we’d got the sheets hauled aft the
vessel seemed easier, but she was drifting
bodily to leeward, and pitching heavily, for

Zet |

the cargo of coal was just as dead as pig-

ron.

‘* «That’ll do the watch!’ sang out the
mate, and then our side took it in turns to
jump below for dry dunnage.

‘*You should have seen that fok’sle.. The |
main deck seams were on the loose, and
leaking like sieves. There wasn’t a dry
bunk anywhere—the lee ones were nearly
afloat.

‘‘Silent as ‘figger-heads’ the fellows were
sitting on the chests—some smoking, and
I knew then that we |
were in for a dose of hard times, but ’twas |
my own fault, d’ye see, as I had shipped
without even a look at the old hooker, and
all I said was:

‘¢ ‘Sarves you right, Jim! You were an old
fool!’

‘*Upon reaching the deck the second mate
sang out to man the pumps, and, after a
longish spell at them, he fetched the sound-
ing-rod, while the boy brought along one of
the binnacle lamps. When the rod was
hauled up, and the light turned on it, that
‘greaser’s’ face was a picture—you bet!

‘* ‘Tt’s all wet!’ said he, ina half-alarmed,
half-doubtful kind of way, ‘and, by all
that’s good, if the line an’t wet, too!’

‘*He was new to the ship, like ourselves,,
and couldn’t understand her little failings.

‘¢ ‘Oh,’ he added, hastily, ‘that can’t be.’

‘And with that he put the rod under his
arm, worked it rapidly fore and aft till ’t
was) dry, and then tried the well again. On
its next appearance the rod was as wet as
before, but what the mate said I an’t going
to tell you. Just then she gave a peculiar,
lifeless roll to lseward, and he and the boy
shot into the scuppers, till Jack Carter and
myself had to knock off pumping to render
aid. ;

‘¢That heavy roll told its own story just
as truly as the sounding-rod. There was a
sight of water below, and, although she was
lying so heavily on the lee bilge, there | was
still sufficient water to cover the rod, and
that meant at least four feet.

‘¢ ‘Wake her up, boys—let’s get her dry!’
cried the mate, trying to look bold, and
maybe thinking we had not seen the tell-
tale. ‘Give us a song,’ said he, but it wasn’t
likely that any one felt like a linnet or a
lark over ber nest in the morning.

‘*The mate kept on talking, and cheering
us up all the’ while, but when you see a
man like that you can bet your bottom dol-
lar he’s feeling as yourself-——if. not more so.
Anyhow, that’s a way all sailors have, and
you can’t rid ’em of it to save your life,

‘‘Up and down, and up and down, went
the pump-brakes till our arms ached again,
and the deck was smothered in bilge-water
every time the vessel reeled to windward.
Such bilge-water! With the first streaks o’,
daylight we saw the mess she was in. The
swishing of the water among the coals was
sieving out the fine stuff, and driving it into
the well, till you would have said we’d been
scrubbing down a coal mine. Four solid hours
those pumps kept heaving out their grimy
slush, and when we were relieved I just
flopped down on the hatch-combings—coal-
muek or no.

‘*Some of the fellows were expecting a
pannikin of hot coffee to cheer them up, but
the ‘doctor’ made no sign, so we went be-
low for a smoke. The fok’sle was worse
than any pig-sty, and everything fetching
to leeward as she rolled. We roosted on the
bunks as we’ were, no one thinking of sleep,
and nowhere to lie if they had.

‘‘As the. light strengthened the storm
seemed to stiffen, and she was laboring so
severely that we dreaded some accident
gloft. Somewhere about four _ bells—six
o’clock—a tremendous sea filled the deck,
but, as the bulwarks gave out, it soon
cleared off. All of a*sudden ‘there was a
sharp crack aloft; and then we heard the
chief singing out wildly for all hands. Jack
Carter sprang upon his legs.

‘¢ ¢Boys,’ said he, ‘we'd best get on deck.
Sho’s goin’ to sarve us a trick—so let’s have
sea room, anyhow.’

NEWS.

foremast had been sprung. Of course, if he
wanted to save the stick and all the head
gear, there was only one plan—keep her
away.

‘*We

tore down the tarpaulin in the

weather mizzen rigging, and she payed off. |

The pumps were going all the time till
help was needed to secure the mast. When
that was accomplished the ship was carefully

brought to the wind, as close as was deemed |
we |

advisable, but it wasn’t very long till
discovered that the pumps were choked. In-
deed, from the amount of fine coal already
passed through them, the wonder was that
they kept clear so long. The spears were
unshipped, and the boxes and
cleared, but there was no possible chance of
further ridding the vessel from water.
‘‘Hvery hour she was becoming more help-
less, and sinking deeper in thesea. Theskip-
per and his officers had a talk in the cabin,

| and after that the word was passed to clear

the port life-boat for lowering.
‘¢oPwas well that such precaution was
taken. About four o’clock that afternoon

the gale was at its worst, while the seas fre- |

quently made a clean sweep of the deck,
but, the bulwarks being for ‘the most part
already gone, the shipment of water soon
passed away.

‘Some provisions and a keg of water were
passed into the boat, but our priucipal
anxiety centred ina tin of oil, which we
needed almost more than food.

‘Tf you desire to see what a gale’ is like in
mid-Atlantic, get on board a_ western-
bound sailing ship at the fall of the year,

and should you wish a second dose of that |

experience, [am much mistaken.

‘‘Well, *twas coming on dark,
terrific burst of wind, together with a sea
that gripped the old vessel under the
weather-bilge, beat her almost upon’ her
beam-ends, and what with the weight of
water to leeward and the shifting of the
coals, why—the Knight Errant never again
rested on an even keel! I saw four men
swept overboard by that catastrophe, and it
is a fact that the back-wash of the sea car-
ried them safely on board again! They
weren’t meant to die in their boots.

‘‘That escape heartenea them a deal. They
just shook themselves like so many water-
dogs, took a fresh bite of baccy, and were
soon singing out with the best.

‘*How the life-boat was saved seemed a
miracle, As the ship heeled to port it did
not take many seconds till the little’ craft
was afloat. Jack Carter was in her stern
sheets, and the yell he gave to cut the bow
tackle was acaution, I did not need an
order, and, by sheer desperation, we pushed
her clear of the massive iron stanchions,
which, in another moment, would have
splintered her in atoms. But even then slie
was not out of danger. It stands to reason
that no spars ever made could withStand
such a strain as Was placed upon ours. The
top-gallant masts carried away at once,
and, until their gear was cut, no one in that
boat knew which way to look for the wreck-
age floating alongside. Three of us sprang
to the spars, and, heaving all we knew, just
fended her clear of danger. By and by the
wreckage drifted to leeward, and our minds
.felt:easier. Mind you, there wasn’t a mo-
ment lost. We could always keep close to
the ship, for she was sagging down on us
all the time, and just as a big sea burst
over her weather side the ‘old man’ yelled
for ‘all hands leave ship.’

‘Rising and falling, and surging, fore
and aft, the boat sheered as close as we
dared let her. One by one the fellows
jumped, the last of all being the skipper. I
felt main sorry for him, but he kept a stout
heart through it all. Chaps like me can al-
ways get a berth, but ’tis different with a
skipper.

‘Twas a’most dark by the time we left
the ship, and then our work was all chalked
out sto live or sink. We cleared one tremend-
ous big sea by the very ‘skin of our teeth,’
as we say. As the boat sank between, the
great billows, I saw the ‘old man’ whip the
cork out of the oil tin, and then he sang out
for our stockings. Yes, lad, nothing else
suited him, and, dragging them off, we
passed them aft. The mate poured some oil
over them carefully, and then hung them
over the stern and sides of the craft. The
effect was really wonderful. Of course, it
didn’t beat down the sea, or anything «like
that, but whenever the breaking tops of the
waves touched the oil it broke their fury and
left us safe. That was all we needed.

‘*What became of the ship we never knew.
Our thoughts at that time were occupied
with more pressing dangers, and in the
swiftly descending darkness we lost all trace
of the wreck. One thing is certain—she had
not many moments to swim. Her main
hatch was half-submerged when we left, and
there can be no doubt she sank immediately
almost. i

‘‘All that night we fled before the ‘sea,
Whenever we topped.a wave our closé-reefed
sail bellied out with a jump, and we strained
at the oars to keep her out of danger, for no
one knew what might befall the skipper’s
device, and, if once caught by those terrible
seas, all would be over.

‘*T could not describe that first night, in
the boat. To understand the situation, yon’d
have to be there, and from my heart I truly

 

‘‘The skipper was already on the poop, and
shouting like mad to ease the helm. The

hope you may never see the time.
‘‘By the merest fluke we slid from the

chambers |}

|The sea still ran high,

 

when a|

“vices.

 

oe ag aM = a

 

broken water and tumbled into the hollowy
where the silence and calm were awful, a00)
overhead a mass of low-lying, flying clougm
Not a word spoke the men, but their salt-
sore eyes never blinked while watchilgy
those white-crested monsters rising asters
and instantly obeying every order from the»
‘old man.’ ; ‘f

‘* “Steady, now—pull all!’ And out ripped zs
the sail overhead, while. those aft neve
ceased their efforts with the oil, and we
little vessel was surrounded with seetbilg
foam. How we watched for the dawn! Thos
hours seemed ages of anxiety—and still W
lived.

‘* *Tt’s coming,
cheerily, as, on topping a sea, the
horizon was touched with dull, gray
and many lips said, solemnly:

‘¢<Thank God!’ ;

‘¢ After that things seemed more hopeful ,
and the crew began to talk. Some food a@
water were served out, but the discovely”
that the gale had broken put new life intoW™s
but the skipPa

work, a5
were

men! cried the skippelyy
easterl |
light,

ordered half the bands to cease
directly afterward the ‘watch below’
snoozing like rabbits. ‘al

‘*That day and the next, were passed Te
safety, for the sea slowly went Jown, a
the boat was slipping along easily, but neve |
a vessel did we sight. We’d been blow?
long way south, and out of the track 4
ships.

On the third night it commenced to bee
again, and somewhere near midnight, 4 re
judged, two of the hands suddenly beg
to yell:

“¢ “A sail! asail!’

‘‘Sure enough, there loomed agai
sky the outlines of a vessel under all eo
and with one voice we hailed her. We be if
to leeward, and the breeze was strong: “
never heard us, and you may, perhaps; lone
derstand our feelings when again left x i
upon that sea, Next day it was plow} ce
hard, and we were forced to run. .BY
time the grub and water were well
played out; but while there’s life
hope, and so all kept a stiff upper lip-
ing the next couple of days we had on
cuit apiece, but the seventh day out, %
speak, saw all the grub and water gone t
not one whisper of discontent was a i
During that night the wind abated coust ay
ably, ane we had some sleep, At day 4 it
the sea was comparatively smooth, @
was on that eighth day after leaving ost
wreck that there happened’one of the m
remarkable boat-races I ever knew. of

‘* As the light strengthened our rang? aly, ‘
vision became more extensive, and sudde 6
a great shout awoke the watch below:
sprang up, thinking of colJision, or lan@
indeed, anything save the reality. pow

‘*A bout two miles on our starboard jp
there lay a semi-dismantled ship, dee
the sea, and evidently quite helpless. ed ® Ee

‘‘For her the skipper instantly shap ome
course, and all eyes eagerly awaite
sign of life on board the stranger.

‘* ‘She’s abandoned,’ said the mate.

‘* ‘What is she?’ inquired the skipp®*

‘¢-¢Hrench,’ returned the chief.

‘+ *T believe so.’

But immediately the words were %
the mate yelled fit to wake the dea@s
pointed tqward a large vessel lying n het
three miles under our lee, while bet wet ind
and the Frenchman was a large boatP
rapidly toward the wreck. - ponses |

‘‘The excitement of the mate was ve Shy

‘* ‘Look at that boat, men!’ cried ‘vol
those chaps get aboard that derelict, oro
lose as fine a salvage as ever dyopp®® —iat®
our hawse. What say ye?—’tis omy ot
ter of half an hours’ hard pull.’

‘With a hearty compliance w®
banked the oars, while both mates he
they knew, and even the old mat
highly excited in the contest. ng at #

‘““The strange boat was slipping alo that ‘
rare pace, ,but you must remelt 3 ow
twenty-five men were crowded inte. yoo!
and only about halfof those could fin dyi28
to pull, while our opponents were 10 DI
light, and hadn’t been starving 07 \ a
cuit a day. . ales

** ‘Bully boys, stick to it!’ cried them the
as he and the ‘greaser’ cheered us on rom
struggle, ‘We’ll all be happy tod te
and there’s plenty of grub on boa"; gp
Frenchee. Easy starboard—pull OF ide iD)
with that the skipper took us 4 8 ob
ship-shape style. : e

in a herb the mate was oD her wet |
: “ : i ‘kes ant wel"
cheering, and laughing like a boy,“ 9, w
ing out to the strange crew. that
much obliged, but didn’t require

o's

po |

 

y
‘*T firmly believe they thought You ae | |
ghosts till the mate began to yell. © b é
they: couldn’t understand where
come from so suddenlike, there
vessel visible save theirs and
Anyhow, they asked so many qué
we were obliged to reply, an
went away, singing out abou
Yankees,’ and other rubbish, till
fairly laughed at them. eee te

‘‘Thatis how we won .a priz® son’? sip
hundred thousand dollars,? and I {0 ome
pose such a windfall is ever liked gd
across my hawse again,’’ ‘yaa

‘*But how did you get her
inquire.

‘*Home!’’ cried he; ‘*w

tbe

jm
homes : ip
on”
9 didn’t g? Fi

\

 
t took her safely into Bermuda, and from
sre found a passage home in a steamer.
“She was a Frenchee, homeward bound,
hh a valuable East India cargo.
, and several spare spars, we rigged
6 jury’ masts, and took her safely to an
horage, as I said.
“Of course, there was a deal
the case
ed. 1 got a tidy bit for my
th that 1 set my wife up in

of law ove1
was fairly
share, and

a little gro-

fy store, where she finds a deal to occupy |
I say, my pipe’s |

tinne while I’m at sea.

and J want a smoke af

i

ore turning in.”’
——— > +> —_—__-

AIWOWN Gr

(ews iGLUBS.

PECIAL NOVTICK.—This column is for, GOOD
WS Ciubs only. No notices will be inserted
Spting such as are genuine GOOD NEWS Club
es, and nothing in the shape of an advertise-
it will be allowed. Every club notice should
© the names of the president and secretary of
Club attached. For information concerning

~OD News Club Badge and Electrotypes see ad-

b Secretaries, Attention !
A PRIZE OFFER!

Or the purpose of promoting a healthy rivalry
Sng club secretaries in the preparation of notices
usertion in this column, Goop Nrws offers the
Wing inducements :

To the Goon News club of any class sending to
Office through its secretary the most novel, at-

Ve, and best worded notice setting forth the ad-

ages ofa membership in said club, will be given
YMplete outfit of Goop Nrws club buttons, one for
eh Member.
Or the next best notice, a set of club badges, one
fach officer.
For the third best, a Goop NEws electrotype, for
eating purposes.
SONDITIONS: Notices should not contain more
One thundred words, be legibly written, and
wed to “Club Department,’ Goop News, 29 Rose
et, New York city, not later than March 31. In
ition of competing notices
> careful to state only that which they are
to prove, and to keep their inducements within
Ounds of probability.
YYS, this is a good opportunity to equip your clubs
the new buttons. They are very artistic in ap-
sence, and are made to’be worn in the lapel of the
Both the metal badges and electrotypes have

CO

before club members for some time and their ad- |

Bes are well known.
“Cretaries, get your thinking caps in order and see
YOU can evolve in the shape of a novel notice.

nember ! the contest closes March 81.

: CLUB CHAT.
* hot fail to read the interesting offer at the head
his column.

Green Mountain Exchange Club, Goop News
ethity Club, Goop NEws Stamp and Exchange
oad the Goop News Wide Awake Club are with
this week,

; retaries of Goon News clubs: Kindly send your

“eS and addresses to “Club Department,’ Goop
§, 29 Rose street, New York city, if you wish to
Umbered in editor’s list.

€ Goop News Corresponding and Exchange
of Allegheny, Pa., is in the field with a new
MSition, The secretary, Fred Mills, advertises

> *hateur short stories and poems.

7 ubers of Goop News clubs are requested to
Y this department of any failure on the part of
Secretaries to fulfill their promises. A prompt

,. cation will serve to weed out delinquents.

fx.© Golden Gate Goop Nrws Corresponding Club
2 Francisco is booming.
Y, George A. Dolan, is offering attractive induce-

S for members.
A list of officers is given.
-Totection in Making Exchar

iges !”’
»%\vord of the Goop NrEws Protective Exchange
a .°f Marion, Iowa. ‘The proposition is timely, and
‘Spirit of the club evidently up-to-date. Do not
read Secretary

EN notice.

‘ 3 ; }
© Goon News Bicycle Contest has given Secre- pel
ianks of the Crescent City Corresponding |

V.G. SI
&n idea

Do

Pl

'
, and he advertises it this week.
NS are at a pret
Humerable off
’ for sale,
Members in search of good reading matter
Not Overlook the announcement of the Goop
’ S Electrical Club of Kansas City. The secretary,
book Ussdale, advertises the purchase of a stock
eq; (Or the use of club members. Those inter-
re uy ectricity will do well to join this enterpris-

‘ Bicycle
nium just now, however. There
ers on the market for them, and

W about bicycle clubs? The cycling season will

Dresently, and now is the hour for preparation.

arge city should have Goop News bicycle

\ eekly meets and regular century rides could

flel sed by mail. Who will be the first in this

A a? Tnformation concerning organization will
lly given from this office.

—__— « —__—

CLUB NOTICES,
Soin in making exchanges is what we want.
iq ‘by oe Goop NEws Protective Exchange Club,
a] St di doing secure the protection of the club
nrshonest exchangers. The object of this club
Ctits members against persons who age un-
nisi doings, Once a member of this club, you
: in, giving persons the advantage of you in
, Uf they don’t keep their word, put your

eRtor
‘Ore the club, which, after sending notice to the
upon those

os bersons, will form a boycott
ndide, Joining this week you can help nominate
yeSUrep ates for president, vice-president, secretary,
ing, Vy and publisher of our club paper. When
tain’: a can announce yourself a candidate for a

Solr. or can speak in favor of somebody else
He hed the club. _ The votes and testimonials
n ‘andidate receives will be printed after his
the ballots,

Ote
Re

Vere ot can print, With their price per hundred,
Who. Members, The three candidates for each
Will receives the best testimonials and most
: be selected as the three final candidates
om all members will vote when they receive

ndidates should solicit testimonials

With |

secretaries,

The indefatigible secre- |
Do rot fail to read this week’s |

This is the |

Ernest Breneman’s cleverly | »

ms Candidates’ for the office of,
of eluh paper are requested to send sample |

| }
| from any Goop NEws readers, but votes only from |

persons who have joined the club. An election fee

members of the club. This fee must be
joining. Watch club column in Goop NrEws f 2)
| further information until after election. Address the
originator, Ernest Breneman, Box 795, Marion, Iowa,

se

| Are you thinking of joining a corresponding club ?
Well, don’t think any longer, but join the Golden
Gate Goop NrEws Club of San Francisco, Cal.,
you will never regret it. Initiation fee, 10 cents; no
dues. All persons wishing to correspond should join
and correspond with our members in all parts of the
world. We don’t claim to have the i
foreign members, but we do claim to have as
list as any other club. All joining will recei
| of members, card of membership, latest puzzle, and a
| copy of the Monroe Doctrine.
ting we will send a handsome bound Don’t
| miss the chance of your life-time, but join ut once,
| and take advantage of this offer, as it may never ap-
| pear again. What if you do belong to one or more
| clubs!

fact, the only up-to-date club in existence. We want

representatives in all parts of the United States, par
| ticularly in Florida, Georgia, Idaho, Illinois, Indiana,
| and Kansas. Do you wish to becontie a representative
' from these States? Ifso, join at once.

to all joining before April 1, 1896. Special notice to
| Goop NEws readers! If you have not got ten cents
to join this club, send us three copies of Goon News
(any date), and you will be enrolled as a member and
receive articles mentioned.
can join this club by either sending us 10-cents or
three copies of Goop Negvs. The officers of this club
are: President, Jos. F. Kelly ; Vice-President, Henry
G.; Miller; Secretary, George A. Dolan; Treasurer,
Charles Fox. Address all communications to the sec-
retary, 731 Harrison street, San Francisco, Cal.

large a

book.

Allegheny. We are giving a prize of thirty foreign
| Stamps and twenty-five good white envelopes to any
member of this club sending us the best amateur short
story or poem; we also give members our club paper,
published by this club; Vhe Standard free every
month—if you have anything to exchange, send list
to this club; ladies admitted free. Initiation fee for
| gentlemen, 10 cents; dues, 6 cents every month.
| Come one, come all, and help to swell our ranks. For
further information, address the secretary ; all are an-
swered by next mail. Fred. Mills, secretary, Box 26,
| Morgan, Allegheny Co., Pa.

 

| days after this notice appears can gain admission in
: the Crescent City Corresponding Club, the only club
way down South. The club is young, but it has lots
of members in every State. The one joining after this
| notice appears will get a well-bound book
| venture, and to the fifth and tenth joining they will
| receive as a prize a Goop NrEws club badge.
| lose time, but hurry up and send the coupons to the
| secretary. W. C. Shanks, Jr., New No. 1189 Marais
| street, New Orleans, La,

Now boys and girls, this is the time to join the Goon
| News Electrical Club—the best club for a boy or girl
| to join in America. We have bought a stock of books
| for the purpose of lending to the members. We also

print a paper (an octavo), telling cheap ways of mak-
| jing batteries, motors, etc. On joining you will receive

card. Allare asked to join.
| dues, 6 cents a month.
Address B. W. Langsdale, secretary, 1212 Tracy, Kan-
sas City, Mo, } ;
| Come, boys and girls, young men and maidens, join
| the Green Mountain State Exchange Club! Boys and
{ girls in every part of Vermont are wanted to join this
|society. ‘This club, form@d as a protection to Ver-
|

mont exchangers, is the only one in existence ad- |

mitting only Green Mountain State exchangers. If

you are a resident of Vermont send name, address, }

list of arti¢les to be exchanged, and a 2c. stamp to J.

Kh. Woodruff, Box
| ticulars will be sent you,

cordially invited to join the Goop News Wide Awake

Club and correspond with girls, boys, old maids and

| Boys and girls, young nraids and old maids, are all}, MISCELLANEOUS.—J. T. Conroy, South Boston, |

| young, and receive our club paper, the Wide Awake |
papers |
Address the secretary, |
| W. C. Lang, 309 W. 89th street, New York city; J. W. |

Monthly, for six months, and a bundle of
magazines, etc., to all joining.

Long, president.

All joining the Goop NrEws Stamp and Exchange |
| Club of Paducab, Ky., this week receive membership | ‘ 50 _ IO
| coupons for twenty wrappers; an old United States

card, bundle of reading matter, fifteen foreign stamps,

ten old United States Revenue stamps, and one old | : f
| Wrappers; several electrical appliances, lamp, etc., /

' Canadian bill stamp. _How’s that?
| Fee, 10 cents (silver); no dues.

Better join.
Address the president,
F. Withérington, 122 Harrisbn street, Paducah, Ky.

The Goop NrEws Fraternity Pleasure Club would
| like representatives in every city and town. Present
} to all joining within thirty days. Initiation fee, 10
| cents ; ladies, stamp. Address Harry L. Stone, presi-
| dent and secretary, 38 Linden avenue, Malden, Mass.
| ee

Van
\

dl
‘oye

XCHANGE

tay

} penal

{ImMporvaNntT.—Lhis column is /vee to all our readers.
We will not be responsible for transactions brought
about through notices in thiscolumn. All offers mnst
be strictly exchange offers. We will not insert any
“for sale” advertisements, nor exchanges of fire-armis,
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 colugun to “Exchange De-
partment. "] ; °

STAMPS, ETC.—F. G. Watkins, Jr., 839 6th. street,
Louisville, Ky., has stamps, books, and. other articles
to exchange for type or bicycle and‘Nameless Story”
coupons; 100 fine mixed ‘Yoreign or United States
stamps for each coupon. ‘

READING. MATTER.—Warren G, Leiser, Allen-
town, Pa., has a book with 266 pages of reading mat-
ter, with cloth-bound cover; the name of the book is
“Dora Thorne ;” the person sending him twenty bicy-
cle coupons will get the book. All letters and postal
cards answered,

STAMP ALBUM.—Frank Devalon, 408 S. Madison
street, Bloomington, Ill.. has a stamp album with 175
foreign and old United States stamps in it, and room
for eighty-five more, to exchange for best offer: he
will give five Goop News bicycle coupons for one 1896
stamp Catalogue. Please write first.

GOOD NEWS.—E. A. Schmok, 520 W. Navarre
street, South Bend, Ind., will give Goop News from
No. 1 up © date—not a coupon clipped, all in the best
condition—with the first two years’ bound in leather
and cloth, for best offer.»

STAMPS.—M. J. Joyce, North Tonawanda, N, Y.,
will give 30c. puce-brown 1888 (unused) for any of the
' following United States: 24c, 1872, 10c. 1869, 90c. 1888,
2c. or Ge. Agricultural Department, 90c. Interior De-
partment, 10c. or 12c. Navy Department, 10c., 24c., or
| 90c. Post-Office Department, Ic. State Department, Ie.
Justice Department; or will give good exchange in
good foreign stamps.

STAMPS.—C. W. Simpson, Warren, Pa., would
like to hear from any one having unused 30c. or 50c.

 

 

stamps, a Columbian half-dollar, or complete unused week.

largest list of

Boys and girls, we want you to become members of
Goop News Corresponding and Exchange Club of

‘| Fair or World’s Fair.
10 cents will be levied on each member to defray the
expense of printing ballots and mailing them to the |

and }

ve a list |

Yo the tenth one join- |

Why not join the leading club of the West—in |

Souvenir sent |

Bear in mind that you |

| a large bundle of reading matter and an initiation |
Initiation fee, 10 cents; |
Leon Elecander, president. |

set of postal cards from the Calitornia Mid-Winter

Set of Atlanta
either, except 30c. stamps.
STAMPS.—Claude Taylor, Malone, N. Y., will give

1,000 mixed foreign stamps for twelve bicycle cou- |
for !

pons, or twenty-five foreign stamps on sheets
every coupon sent him; no less than five coupons
taken, unless return postage is sent. Send coupons
and receive stamps by return mail. His reference is
the Farmers’ National Bank of Malone, N. Y

STAMPS.—Paul Wichmann, 5128 Loomis street,
Chicago, Ill, will give 1,000 mixed United States
stamps, 1870 to 1896, for every 15c. Columbian stamp.
All letters answered.

PRINTING OUTFIT.—N. J. Pauley, Greenfield,
Ind., has printing outfit (cost $1), fifteen 5

six 25-cent novels, and four bound boqks to exchange

for lion heads or best offer; also has bicycle coupons |

for best offer.
READING
street, Heé

Goop Nt

MATTER.
uckensack, N. J
ys, in excellent condition, and volumes of
papers, to exchange for a first-class banjo,
guitar, or mandolin; reading matter
quist’s figure. Honesty guaranteed.
MISCELLANEOUS.—V. S. Benson, 174 Erie street,
Cleveland, Ohio,

C.

three bicycle Coupons, 100 foreign stamps or 250 United
States stamps for every eight bicycle coupons, yearly
subscription to Zhe Roustabout (a club paper) for every
ten bicycle coupons.

READING MATTER.—Frank J. Coates, Joseph
street, Medford, Mass., will give or exchange a 5-cent
novel for every bicycle coupon sent him.

MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS.—J. W. Van Ostrand,
Jr., 11 Pellington place, Brooklyn, N. Y., has a B-flat
cornet, a 28-bracket banjo, a 12-keyed concertina, a 7-
ribbed mandolin, and a guitar for a collection of
stamps.

GOOD NEWS.—Edwin Hall, 88 Harmony street,

30ston, Mass., will give an unused 10c. United States

stamp for Nos. 300, 801, and 302 Goop NEws; coupons |

can be cut out if wanted. Send papers and he will
send stamp. Also has five 10c., three 3c., and six 5c.,
all unused, for best offer in Goop_ NEWS.
BICYCLE COUPONS.—S. R. Stedman,
burg, Lowa, will give one double sweater ($2) for. 100
bicycle coupons, one pair B. & B. skates ($2.50) for 100
bicycle coupons, foot-ball suit (pants and vest) for 150

Em mets-

x jas . 3 | bicycle coupons, tennis-racket ($4) for 100 bicycle cou-
Any one who~sends five bicycle coupons in five }

pons, gymnasium suit for seventy-five bicycle cou-
pons, a 25-cent book for twenty bicycle coupons, 200

different tobacco tags for twenty-five bicycle coupons, |
100 picture cards for thirty-five bicycle.coupons, 5-cent |
r | library for three coupons.
of ad- |

Columbian, and next ten persons will receive an 8c.

Columbian ; 15 cents for every twenty coupons. All

letters answered and honesty guaranteed.
MISCELLANEOUS.—Lieut. David R. Summers;

| 17238 Euclid avenue, Kansas City, Mo., has boys

papers, 5-cent, 10-cent, and 25-cent novels, books on

magic, base-ball, etc. ; magazines, stamps, a new pho- |

tograph album, a reel and line, and a magic lantern to

exchange for Goon Nrws before Vol. 8. Send gelf- |

addressed and stamped envelope for reply.

BICYCLE COUPONS.—Harry G. Clay, Pleasant |
Hill, Mo., will give one 5-cent novel for every Goop |
| NEws bicycle coupon sent him, a 10-cent
| every two, a big bundle of reading matter
+ Six, containing papers, novels, and books.

or every
He has 2
cotiection Of 203 all different stamps for fifty coupons;
a JSewsboy photo for every coupon. Write to him;

| send your coupons, and you will get all your coupons

are worth. Honesty guaranteed.

| cle coupons to exchange for best offer in Goop News

278, Brandon, Vt., and full par- |

| Skates, boxing-gloves, type, and other goods, which he |

JEPARTMENT. |

| 301, é

 

|

prior to No. 284, numbers in rotation, or willexchange |

for other good reading matter.
Mass., has a lot of books, papers, Goop NEws; also

would like to exchange for anything useful. Please

let me hear from you, stating what you have to ex- |

change.
MISCELLANEOUS.—Frank Kluss, 1125 5th street,

N. E., Washington, D. C., has 1,000 boys’ paper to ex- |

change for bee soap wrappers; will give one paper

cent novels, |

H. Henken, 75 Park |
-., has Vols. 9, 10, and 11 of |

for a ventrilo- |

will give bundle amateur papers for |
| name and address, two picture cards for every Goon |
NEws bicycle coupon, one Newsboy photo for every |

) For every ten coupons !

will give either a 6c. or 8c. United States stamp; to |

Don’t | first ten persons sending ten coupons will send a l5c.
on

ook for |

| little to do with it.
BICYCLE COUPONS.—Chas. C. Stucky, 724 Syca- |
more street, Washington C. H., Ohio, has twelve bicy- |

} we have published.

| We

Fair cards for |

—
{Questions on subjects of general interest only are
dealt with in the ‘‘Mail Bag.’ Medical or legal ques-
tions not answered. GoOopD NEWS goes to press two
weeks in advance of date of publication, and there-
| fore answers cannot appear until two or three weeks
| after we receive them. Communications intended for
this column should be addressed Goop NEws “Mail
gag,”’ P. O. Box 2734, New York City.

-

F. D., Findlay, O.—1. Same of your measurements
are slightly below the average, but you are fairly well
proportioned. 2. Your writing is rather small, but it
| is very legible. 8. We will be pleased to examine

your poetical efforts, but.we are/not in the market at
present. 4. You will find it more convenient to pur-
chase the cement for repairing rubber boots. ‘The
| task of preparation is both tedious and delicate.. 5.
| We would not advise you to attempt the study of
mesmeri$sm. 6. There should be any number of
| camping places within a dozen miles of your home.
| Select a woods bordering a lake or river within easy
distance of a village.

Cc. S&. W., Media, Pa.—l. Yes. See announcement
in another column. 2. An armored vessel is one hav
ing & belt of steel or iron covering the vital parts.
| The U. 8. S. New York isan armored ship. An/\un-

armored craft is entirely unprotected save by the 7%,
inch sides. 3. Use an elastic stocking. 4. Mr. Lewis’
first name is pronounced ‘“‘en-reek-a” the accent be
| ing on the second syllable.

Inquirer, Orange, N. J.—1. The Chinese Customs

Service positions are completely filled, and there isa
| long waiting list. It would be useless for you to apply.
| 2. The studies are very similar. 3. Send for details

to the Civil Service Bureau, New York city. 4. Not
to-day in the postal department of the United States.
| >. We do not give addresses. 6. Plain water is the
best. ’
|
C. E., Wolverine, Mich.—Of the two pursuits you
| mention, carpentry is the best from a financial point
oft view. The other may be more to your taste, but
| its day asa trade is past. The two combined might
pay, but as a rule it is unwise to haye too many irons
in the fire. The only method by which carpentry can
be learned is by entering a shop as an apprentice.

Gay Dashleigh, New York City.—1l. We are glad

you are pleased with the story. Itis one of the best
2. There is always a chance for
an earnest, ambitious lad, If you desire it we will
see what can be done in the matter. Send us your
address and full particulars concerning your circum-
Stances,

The Boy Electrician, Springfield, Mo. - 1.
Consult a book on practical electricity. 3.
do not publish addresses in this co

“Twenty, Thousand Leagues Under the Sea.’
| series of Several volumes. Ask your bookseller.
|} Alfred Armitage. 8. Consult a work on electricity.

fl, J. N., Concord, N. H.-1. Consult some work
on camp-life for fall details. A couple of rough suits,
several flannel outing shirts, and a pair of stout boots,
together with a soft felt hat, and the necessary under-
wear should be sufficient. 2. Always ask permission
if possible. Be governed by circumstances.

Gay Dashleigh, Louisville, Ky.—1. Your letter has
been handed to Mr. Sewall. 2. Thanks for good
wishes. 3. He is now engaged on a sequal -which, in
our opinion, even surpasses his firststory. 4. It will
treat of a timely subject, and will tell of the further
adventures of ‘‘Gay Dashleigh.’’

T. K., Youngstown, Ohio,—1. Songsare valued ac-
cording to their subject and style. The length has
Submit it to a publisher of music.
2. You will find it a difficult task to patent an inven-
tion in your circumstances without calling in outside
aid.

Rocky Mountain Rex and others, no address.- 1. It

and
Yes.

; is impossible to give you theinformation. 2. ‘*‘Yankee

forevery five wrappers sent him; also four bicycle |

penny, valued at 25 cents, in fine condition. for fifty

tor twenty-five wrappers; a lot of banjo and other
music, with songs, for twenty-five wrappers, and a

| Gay Dashleigh, Louisville, Ky:

small 3x4 printing press for 200 wrappers. Honesty |

in any deal.

SKATES.—Ros8 Edwards, Westfield, N. J., will
give a good pair of Peck & Snyder skates for seventy-
five bicycle coupons.
once. All letters answered at once.

MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS.—W. P. Kain, Cedar-
ville, N. J., hasa B-flat tenor slide trombone, value
$12, and a D-piccolo, cocoa
keys, cork joints, tuning slide one-half brass lined,
valued at $3, to exchange for an 8x10 lens of the

| double rapid rectilinear type.
;

READING MATTER.—William J. Petrain, 330 N.
19th street,
Goop NerEws and .other juvenile papers;
books by the following authors, Alger, Optic, Castle-
mon, and Ellis, to exchange for best offer of the fai-
lowing, Vols... and 4 Goop News and Goop Nrws
bicycle coupons,

STORY PAPERS. — Ernest Moore, Mooresfield,
Ark., has $50 worth of story papers to exchange for a
safety bicycle, typewriter, or printing press.

-arties will please write at |

wood, 4 German-silver |

;now being published in

Portland, Ore., has Vols. 3, 10, and 11 |
thirteen |

Boys in Japan” was founded on fact. The descrip-
tions and scenes are true, but the characters are ficti-

tious. 8. About 75,000. 4. No. 5.°About 3,250 miles.

Constant Reader, Harriman, Tenn.—The profession
is not very good. We,would advise you to adopt
some other. Traveling from town Sto town with an
outfit would bring more discomforts than>dollars.
Give up the idea.

T. H. H., Towa.—1. According to the person’s intelli-
gence and ability. Possibly not longer than fou
years. 2. Address any gymnasium. 3. Not more
than forty per cent. of the profits. \

Gay Dasileigh, Streator, Ill.—l. See answer to
2. Write to the War

3. Yes. 4. See the

o.

Department, Washington, D. C.
Congressman of your district.

H. W. B., Reading, Mass.—l. See announcement
in another column. 2. The name of the bicycles
given away by Goop News is the “Outing.” It is
one of the best in the market.

C. V. ML, Zanesville, Ohio.—1. See announcement
in another column concerning the ‘‘Nameless Story.’’
2. Prizes will be awarded as speedily as possible after
the conclusion of the contest. \

Ciwil Engineer, Keokuk, Towa.—See special article
“Short Talks With The
Boys.”’ It would be impossible to learn the profes-
sion by mail.

Son of Old Nick, Sioux City, Iowa.—The stories
mentioned cannot be obtained in book-form. The
papers containing them will besentto you on receipt
of price. a .

F. -A., Albany,’ N. Y.—You can obtain mogp de-

' tailed information by writing to the superintéeWdent

GOOD NEWS.—Fred Smith, 466 Pearl] street, Buf- |
falo, N. Y., has Nos. 283, 289, 292, 296, 297, 298, 299, 300, |

2, and 303 of Goop NrEws (the last seven num-

bers containing coupons), and. a metropolitan maga- |

zine to exchange for best offer ; also two 5-cent libraries
to exchange for five blue Cleveland gum coupons.

55, Richfield Springs, N. Y., has Goop News, New
York Weeklys, and other boys’ story papers, novels,

bicyele coupons or best offer.
you have. All letters and postals answered.
esty guaranteed.

MANDOLIN, ETC.- Joseph Coff, 3206 Bell avenue,
St. Louis, Mo., would like to exchange mandolin for
boxing-gloves or punching-pag, or best offer. A1] let-
ters answered. i

COINS.—Alfred C. Merrick, 517 South Second street,
Philadelphia, Pa., will give 100 Duplex envelopes,
blue inside, with name and address, and two volumes
of Goop Nmws} for any old United States coins before
1850, or five Columbian half-dollars. All letters arid
postals answered.

GOOD NEWS.—Edward Quigley, Greenfield, Ind.,

Hon-

exchange for a genuine $1 Columbian stamp.

READING MATTER.— Herman Schwartz, 114
Willett street, N.°Y., has boys’ papers, which he will
exchange for best offer.

Noricr.—Owing to the extraordinary wumber of ex-
change notices réceived, many are left over until next

‘ »

of any shirt manufactory.
answer.

E. W. D., Jacksonville, Iil.—Address the com-
mander of the U. S. S. Michigan, rie, Pa., for par-
ticulars, or apply personally to any navy-yard.

Hugh Thorpe, Galveston, Texas.—1. Yes.

Tt isa question we cannot

2

“

We

| hope so. 3. Thanks for good wishes. 4. Your) letter
; 7 | has been sent to Mr. Lewis.
MISCELLANEOUS.—Lewis B. Shanl, Lock Box |}

| has twentytsix Goop Nrws, all in good condition, to {

|
.

Young Sandow, Hollidaysburg, Pa.— Your question
would require too much space. Consult a work on

eee
| skates, and false beard to exchange for Goop News | athletic training.

Write, stating what |

Don Kirk, Chicago, 11.—Consult a physician.
Medical questions are not answered, in this depart-
ment. '

G. T., no address.—The subject would require too
much space. Consult a work on practical training.
F. P. CG, Fairbury. Neb.—Hardly the paper the bills

are printed on. They are a drug on the market. . »

C. S., Winchester, Ind.—It has not been measured
exactly. The speed is almost incalculable. —

7, A. C., Oshkosh, Mich.—The first prize was won
by J. F. Windolph, Brooklyn, N. YT. f

F. J. 8.; Somerville, Mass.—1. You are well pro-
portioned. 2. Your writing is fair.

’ Rastus, Newark, N. J.—Yonr question hast
ferred to Mr. Arthur Sewall. ©
M. N. C., Opelika, Kansas.—See bicycle announce-

ment on middle page.

©. W.S. Buffalo, N. Y.—See announcement in
another column,

G, P. S., Chester, Pa.—See announcement in an-
other column.

veen re-

 
  

4928

 
 
 

What Do You Think of This, Boys?

A Nameless
... Ory...

Send us what you think is the best
title for it and win a magnificent prize.
In. No. 301 of Goop NkEws we began
the publication of a*new serial by that
popular author,

ENRIQUE Hi. LEWIS.

This story will be published with no name
attached to it. Read the story and give

$100 $100

First-Class High-Grade Bicycle.

For the titles next in order of excellence
we make the following splendid offers:

 
     

 

  
 

Another Superb
Offer !

SALA AAA

 

 

 

  
 
 

Quite a New
Idea!

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
  
  
   
    
   
  
  
    
  
      
  
   
    
 
  
  
    
 
  
    
 
  
  
 
  
      

Will be given to the person
who sends us the best title

THIRD AND FOURTH PRIZES, A
FINE CAMERA,

FIFTH AND SIXTH PRIZES, A
PEARL-HANDLED OPERA-GLASS.

ALSO ;

TEN PRIZES OF A WATCH,

(STEM. WIND AND STEM SET.)

Can this be beat? One Hundred Dollars;
a Bicycle; Two Cameras; Two Opera
Glasses, and Ten Watches.

v The prizes will be awarded by the follow-
ing specially selected jury:

i. _. Editor of Good News, Wm. Murray Graydon,
Enrique H. Lewis, anp Alfred Armitage,
Lieut. Lionel Lounsberry.

Don’t fail to read the story without a
name! ‘Then get your brains to work and
see if you can win one of the prizes.

Each suggestion must be written on one
of the coupons found on the second page
of Goop Nrws.. Direct your answers to

THE NAMELESS STORY,
Good News, 27 and 29 Rose St.. New York.

 

 
 

GooDp

 
  
      

NEWS.

SPECIAL.—We will send

FREE, on receipt of 2 cent stamp to

pay for mailing and packing, a
twenty-five cent -book entitled

‘*Family Medical Instructor.’’ This
book has been compiled with great

be foundinvaluable. Tormons CHEM-
ICAL Co., 2, 4, 6 and 8 Duane St.,
New York.

CARDS The FINEST BAMPLE BOOK of Gold Beveled Edge,
Hidden Name, Silk Fringe, Envelope and Calling Cards
ever offered for = 2 cent stamp. These are GENUINE

CARDS, NOT TRASH. UNION CARD CO., COLUMBUS, OHIO.

Mention Good News.

 

 

ARRIAGE PAPER with 1,000 ads. and photos |

of marriageable people, many rich, lists of rare
| books, ete., free. GUNNELS’ MONTHLY, Toledo, Ohio.
| Mention Good News.
|

 

$4.50 Per 100

| ling Bureau, Chicago. __

CASH for distributing circulars.
Inclose 4 cents. U. 8. Distribu-
Mention Good News.

‘DETECTIVE STORIES, sitter books: to cents
|

| cash. W. M. Prescott, Rockville, Mass.

THIS MEANS YOU!

If you are a reader of Goop News, send in your
| name and address, together with a two-cent stamp,
|} and we will send you in return a

GOOD NEWS CLUB BUTTON,

| ‘hese buttons can be worn in the lapel of the coat.

| The body of the button is blue and red, and the words

“Goop News Club” are stamped in gold, making a

| very attractive ornament.

| write at once. ;
Address: Club Department, Goop Nrws, 29 Rose

| street, New York City.

EVERY YOUNG MAN

HOW TO DO BUSINESS

This book is a guide to success in life, as it not only
tells how to do business, -but how to succeed init. In-
teresting chapters on Fundamental Principles, Kinds
of Business, Qualifications for Business, Choice of a
Pursuit, Mercantile Pursuits, How to Get Customers,
Manufacturing, Mechanical Trades, Causes of Failure-
Book-keeping, Commercial Forms, Business Vocabu,
lary, etc. This book will be sent, postpaid, on receipt
of TEN CENTS. Address MANUAL LIBRARY,
29 Rose Street, New York.

=BOoOoKsS=
BY POPULAR AUTHORS.

I0 Cents each, ar three for 25 Cents,

There will be no reprint editions, Early orders re-
| quested,

|BOY CARIBAU-HUNTERS; or, The Treasure-
| Trove of Hudson Bay. By Cuas B. Cross.
ARTHUR HELMUTH. By EDWARD S. ELLIS.
WORKING HIS WAY; or, The Brookville Boy’s
Club. By DWIGHT WELDEN.

 

 

 

 

Any one of the above books will be sent, postpaid,
on receipt of price, 10 cents each, or three for
25 cents.
| Address STREET & SMITH, 29 Rose St., New York,

The Young Gymnast.
S. &S. Manual Library No. 9. Price 10e.

A perfect instructor for the amateur and professional
gymnasium, and of incalculable value to any one whe
wishes to become a gymnast. Profusely illustrated.
Explains the mode of training, treatment of accidents
gymnastic exercises of the arms, iumb-bells, Indian
clubs, trapeze, horizontal bar, and all sorts of tricks
and feats of gymnastics. For sale by all newsdealers,
or sent post paid, upon receipt of price, 10 cents, by
the publishers, ,

MANUAL LIBRARY, 29 Rose Street, New York.

0 BOUND VOLUMES OF GOOD
. NEWS.

 

We haye issued volumes three, four,
five, six and seven, bound in an at-
tractive heavy paper cover. Twenty-
six) numbers constitute a volume. The
papers are cut and trimmed and bound

with as much care as an expensive cloth binding, and
the prices are

Vol. 3, $1 Each.
Vols. 4, 5, 6 and 7 85e. Each.
These volumes contain serial’stories by
Edward 8. Ellis,
Jas. Otis,
Harry Castlemon,
Walter Morris, Oliver Optic.
W. B. Lawson, Lieut. Lounsberry,
And others equally well known,

Address Subscription Department Goop Nrws,
29 Rose street, New York.

Vols. 1 and °2 out of print.

Horatio Alger,
Edward Stratemeyer,
Wm. Murray Graydon,

 

OUT-DOOR SPORTS.

S. & S. Manual Library No. 7. Price, 10 Cents.

A book of instruction for playing many of the
most popular out-of-door games. A book that will
supply a long felt want. The games introduced,
while well known, are elaborated, and many new
features introduced, which makes them more inter-
esting and less likely to become stale. Illustrates
games with and without toys,for the city or country.-
For sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent, post.

 

paid, upon receipt of price, 10c., by the publishers,
MANUAL LIBRARY, 29 Rose Street, N. Y.

As the supply is not large, |
| we trust that you will appreciate the opportunity, and |

care, and in cases of emergency will |

ON WHAT DAY WERE YOU BORN?

 

 

“MOTHER

ee ee

in

  

et

PRINTING OUTFIT (Qe

Sets any namein one minute; prints 500 ee

Mi hour. YOU can make money with it. A fo y
Bee )} pretty type, also Indelible Ink, Type, Holder,
}and Tweezers. Best Linen Marker; wo

Sample,mailed FREE for 10c. stamps for postag®
on outfit and largecatalogue of 1000 Bargains. Same
Ke “ Sammon outfit with figures 15c. Larger outfit for pum f
two limes 25c. post-paid, Ingersoll & Bro, @5 Cortlandt Ste; N. Y. city

Mention Good News.

 

 

Just published in book form, a perpetual calendar
Good for this year, next year, last year, or any other
year. Itis indexed for 180 years. If you know the
date of any event that has happened since 1776, OF
likely to happen during the next one hundred yeal:

| you will be able to tell the day of the week hy COP

sulting this comprehensive little calendar book. Sept
to any address, postpaid, on receipt of 5 cents. 4
Address Frost’s Calendar, Box 1173, N - Yaa

This cut is the exact
size and style of the
Goop NEws Club Badge.
The badge is made of &
high grade of Germal
silver; artistic in desig?
and something every
reader will be proud 0
wear. Any reader senG-
ing us 10 cents in stamps
or silver will receive 4
badge. ki

Electrotypes for print:
ing the badge on lette
heads, cards, etc., wil
sent post-paid on receipe
of twenty-five cents. |

Ten cents is all that is required to secure this
handsome badge. Address Good News Corre
sponding Club, 29 Rose street, New York.

 

FALSE MUSTACHES ano
E ge Sone 7a G Ss

  
    

 

 
   
 

 

Pris a Oe is guir >; Fine me
a NAS RY) ) gam vo ds. As Same,

; B of our 1000 NO
ties, we send one Of each with large Catalorue for 10¢.

R. H. INGERSOLL & BRO,, 65 CORTLANDT ST., N. ¥. 6lT™
_ Mention Good News. ba

HUNTER AND ANGLER.

S. & S. MANUAL LIBRARY, No. 10%
PRICE, 10 CENTS,
akes

This is a book that is needed by everybody who t My
pleasure in the sports of hunting and fishing. F not
Ulustrated. Instructs how to use a gun and size of ds
in hunting different game, trapping, the kind of u
iines, hooks, and bait to be used to be a suceese
fisherman, isfully described in this valuable little b id.

For sale by all Newsdealers, or will be sent, ost pa
upon receipt of price, ten cents, by the publishers, i

MANUAL LIBRARY, 29 Rose Street, New YOR.

MILLS’

LETTER
WRITER

This pook of

  
 
 
 
  
  
  

dred paper?
contains com
<t; plete inst?
¢ tion in®

branches 1-
corresp?
ence;
gether
“samples 2?

t 8

rn
1
v6

letter

pe X on every
‘i ESS yarielY
of subject — Penmanship, Spelling, Gramme
Punctuation, Use of Capitals, Abbreviatien.
style; advice to those who write for whe B pee
business letters, letters of introduction, approve
slr

   

tion, recommendation, sdcial, congratulatio™,
and courtship, ete.; the art of secret writiD® “ie
ness laws and maxims, rules of conducting PY om
meetings, and all forms of conveying though® , f
one mind to another through the medium
written language. This valuable book will be Ss:
postpaid to any address on receipt of ten oorew
Address MANUAL LIBRARY, 29 Rose Sts -

York ‘ et

Amateur's Manual of Photograph
S. &S. MANUAL LIBRARY, No &
PRICE, 10 CENTS. ne art gh

A hand-book of practical instructions in t to #
dry-plate photography. Itisa‘complete guid® j ow #
fascinating art. Fully illustrated. ‘Tells from jotute
camera is made to the finish of a first-class Mago
Photography is a clean, light. and pleasant oceu wit iP
suitable for any young lady or gentleman, ale ‘d

sostP®

 

the reach of all.

For sale by all Newsdealers, or will be sent, t ysner™
upon receipt of price, ten cents, by the pub. NL!
MANUAL LIBRARY, 29 Rose srreeh 2

Good News Bindel

Price 50 Cents.

Answers the purpose of a bound volume.
fifty-two copies comfortably.

oink

a

It is, without doubt, the finest binder over oe,
even for double the price we ask, aud js indisP ib
able té those who aré keeping their papel
notonly preserves GOOD NEwSs for future refere
and from being lost, but keeps them clea, an
goodorder. Itis both useful and ornamental: with

It has a durable black embossed, COV | se
flexible back, and a gold stamp title on 1h?” oye
cover, It opens flatas any book, and each W gull
paper can be inserted as soon as receive’ each
directions for inserting the paper accompany
binder. ; pack

We will send the Goop NEws binder, and 4 p re ;
age of binder pins, postpaid, to any addres? "
ceipt of 50 cents.

cer
jp

aby sictpietiaehe tdci ae jo
Re sure to use “Mire. Wine

while Teething. 25 cents
.

 

OE Oe TY a

over one Huy ©

 

 

oy Age?

 

DEE

 

   

 

   

4 js g
Soothing Syrup” for your Ob gtle