foul,
un at
venty”
phe
pound
g, aud

acl

Entered According to Act of Congress, in the
Entered as Sec Mie: tae Matter at the New Yo rk, N.Y., Post-Offce.

STREET & SMITH, Publishers,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Roy
CH
a THERE OLD BRAYLEY PEERED DOWN INTO THE MYSTERIOUS DEPTHS AND
LOATED OV ER A PILE OF GOLD AND SILVER THAT LAY HEAPED WITHIN.

 

Smith, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C.

New York, June 20, 1896. vised per Year. No. 320,

W) i

 

mE
ee
yu

=
4

 

   
 

‘*PURCELL, YOU KNOW THE RULES OF OUR ROAD. YOU HAVE DISOBEYED THEM, AND, THERE-
FORE, YOU MUST SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES. I AM COMPELLED TO DISMISS YOU !’’

NED PURCELL, THE BOY ENGINEER:

THE HERO! OF THES OVALE Y CEN PRA IL,”

 

BY HARVEY HICKS,
Author of “By Pluck Alone,” “The Tour of The Zero Club,” “Tom Truzxton’s Schooldays,” etc., ete.

(*“Nep PURCELL, THE Boy ENGINEER,” was commenced last week.)

 

"NOPSIS 7 PREV IS CHE ; the engine. As he does so, Purcell turns with
BROERIG OF SRE rAOUP) See are a start, and a flask falls to the iron floor and
The Valley Central and the Northern are| breaks to pieces, sending an odor of whisky

rival railroad lines running from Swiftwater | into the nostrils of the superintendent. The
to Montrose. Everything depends on which | latter is astonished and angry, but before any-
shall make the quickest time, and Joe Purcell, | thing can be said, the train has started. An
the engineer of the Valley Central, has been | exciting race follows, and the super ‘intendent
ordered, at all costs, to beat the Northern Px- | is much alarmed, believing the engineer to be
press. Just before they are leaving the Grand / drunk. At a critical moment, Purcell per-
Union depot at Montrose, the superintendent | ceives that one of the piston guidesis perfectly
of the line, Mr. Trow bridge, enters the cab of | dry and must be oiled atonece. Joe Purceh
2

GooD

NEWS.

Lea
a a

 

 

lives ina cottage in Swiftwater with his wife
and son, Ned, a bright boy of sixteen. The4
latter is greatly interested in the race of the
rival trains, and with his mother watches for |
their arrival from a high bluff near the cottage. |
When he sees that ‘Old 67,’’ his father’s en- |
gine igin the lead, his joy knows no bounds. |
He is about to rush down the slope to the |
station, when his mother stops him, saying:
“Please, Ned, I wish you would not go to the |
depot now. Will you stay with me instead?
We are in a dangerous situation,”

CHAPTER IV.
WINS,

 

“onD 677?

MID loud -cheers and a scene of
p greatest enthusiasm, Joe Purcell's

  

~\s engine came thundering down the
«\/MGe line: across the bridge into Swift-
water Junction on time, and with the big
locomotive under perfect control.

Soot-begrimed and nearly exhausted, the
fireman sprang down from the cab to ex-
amine the heated bearing, which had occa-
sioned the engineer no little anxiety during
the last half of the wild run.

Superintendent Trowbridge paused to
speak a few words in a low tone to Engineer
Purcell, and as the old trainman’s face
blanched and a shudder suddenly agitated
his rugged frame, the official stepped down
from the engine-cab and started across the
crowded depot platform toward the wide-
open door.

At that instant a sweet, girlish voice
greeted him, amid a general din of congrat-
ulations from every side:

‘*Oh, papa, you are here at last—and safe!
Iam so glad!”’

Anda beautiful lass of fifteen summers
ran forward with extended arms and
grasped the official’s outstretched hands.

Her face was aglow with the light of
affection and happiness, and her hair, which
had fallen in wavy confusion about her
snowy neck and beautiful shoulders, formed
a rare setting indeed to the gem of loveliness
which was pictured in her beaming blue
eyes and bright, ruddy cheeks.

‘*T yah all the way from home,’? she cried.
“T started just as soon as mamma heard
‘Old 67? whistle in. Ob, Iam so glad your
train won, and—was it an awfully hard
race, papa?’’

She rattled on thus in a light-hearted
manner, and the grim, set features of the
railway official gradually relaxed their
sternness as he patiently listened to his
daughter’s musical words,

‘*Yes, it was a long, hard trip, pet,’’ re-
sponded Superintendent Trowbridge, as he
accompanied the lass to the station and up
a broad flight of stairs into his own com-
fortable office; away from the bustle and
clatter of the busy yard, with its constantly
moving engines and shouting trainmen, ‘‘I
am as glad as any one that it is over,’’ and
he shuddered ever so slightly as he turned
to a heap of official looking documents
which Jay upon his desk.

After a minute or more spent in looking
over these papers, the superintendent heard
a sigh from his daughter’s lips, and he
quickly turned toward her again with a
look of deepest anxiety upon his care-worn
face.

‘‘What is it, Edith?’’ be hastily inquired,
as he noted the expression of sadness which
had thoroughly effaced the recent glow of
sunshine from her bewitching face. ‘‘ What
is the trouble, child?’? and he bent forward
and lifted the drooping head with gentle
hands,

Two great, glistening tears were spring-
ing to the drooping eye: lashes and, there was
a look upon her face which fairly wrung
the superintendent’s heart with agony.

‘You forgot to kiss me, papa,’’ she softly
articulated; her voice melting to tearful
sadness, while the faintest touch of reproach
mingled with the tones of her appeal.

‘‘Why, Edith! Papa is very sorry; very
sorry indeed!’? and he caught her in his
arms and kissed her quickly, witb all the
tenderness of his loving heart. ‘‘You are
getting such a large girl now, my pet; al-
most a young lady, you know, and 1 fancied
that you bad begun to outgrow such things

?

She interrupted his words with a look
which caused him to smile. Then, as the
momentary sadness paled before the return-
ing gleam of happiness, she lightly stroked
her father’s brow with her slim, delicate
fingers and earnestly replied:

‘*T shall never outgrow my love for you,
dear father. You and mother are all I have
to love.’

She quickly bestowed a kiss upon his
pale, careworn cheek, and, as the sudden
shower of April is dispelled by the burst of
sunshine, so her countenance changed from
grave to gay, and the stern, busy superin-
tendent could not refrain from breathing
a little of the real nectar of youthful hap-
piness that contributed to bis daughter’s joy.

Edith Trowbridge was the idol of her
father’s heart; the pillar upon which this
stern, thorough-going business man rested
the foundation of his own peace and joy.
He fairly worshiped ber, and her every
wish was law; so thoroughly was he in sym-
pathy with her ideas.

She was his only child, and in return for
the love which her parent showed her, she

| at the office she was much of the time pres-

' there,

 

adored him with all the strength of her
tender heart.

The two were in reality almost insepara-
ble, for in the daily routine of his business

ent; cuddled up in some cozy corner with
book or fancy work to while away the pass-
ing hour, while he gave hiy attention to the
cares of his business. Whenever she was not
however, the official found himself
thinking of her, and thinking, too, of the
depth of his affection for her.

Once in a while a startling thought would
present itself to him, and with a chill of
horror he prayed to. the Infinite Ruler of
the universe that she be spared him, for
should she be taken away he felt that the
star of his life would have forever set.

A tumult of thought was fairly over-
whelming him as he stood there with his
daughter’s havd clasped in his own, when
there came to his ears the sounds of a step
upon the stairs.

Quickly Edith hastened to a seat at one

corner of the room, and an instant later Joe |

Purcell, white as death and reeling like a
drunken man, staggered through the door.
He paused in the very centre of the office,

cap in hand, and regarded the superintend- |
| have not the right to condemn without duly

ent with a fixed, almost glassy stare, that
was terrible to behold. He did not appear
to note the presence of the official’s daugh-
ter, and Edith was not slow to discover this
fact, for he always had a cheery word for
her whenever he chanced to meet her in the
depot or elsewhere.

He hesitated, without speaking, and
seemed waiting for the superintendent to
address him. For fully half a minute Trow-
bridge looked into the staring eyes of the
engineer, and alternate flushes of crimson
and white suffused his cheek, while little
Edith sat mute and quite dumfounded, as
she surveyed the remarkable scene.

She could scarcely credit her senses! It
seemed fora moment as though the whole
thing was a delusion.

But no!

Her father was speaking now, and with
every sense alert, she listened. A sudden
wave of disappointment and surprise swept
over her as she heard the words which her
parent was uttering:

‘*Purcell, you know the rules of our road.
You have disobeyed them, and, therefore,
you must suffer the consequences, I am
compelled to dismiss you!”’

A choking gasp parted the accused man’s
lips. He reeled and staggered almost blind-
ly, and then he stretched out his hands in
an agonizing appeal, as he sought to take a
single unsteady step toward the man who
had thus pronounced the sentence of punish-
ment upon him, which seemed to pierce like
a knife to his very heart.

A look of pain shot athwart his face. His
limbs were trembling violently, and for
several seconds it seemed as though he must
fall, while a stifled sob overcame the effort
which he bad made to control his emotions,
and his rugged frame swayed and reeled like
a storm-shaken oak,

At last he rallied, and the words which
had been struggling for utterance burst
from kis colorless lips,

“Think of my family, Trowbridge! Think
of my honor; my all! Oh, did you but know
the truth—did you but realize my situation,
and that I am as innocent as yourself——’’

He paused, for the stern-visaged official
was firmly shaking his head,

Then a mighty change seemed to come
over the old engineer, His face, which up to
this time, had been hueless as ashes, became
dark and threatening with a cloud of anger,

His breast heaved with rising emotion,
and as a flerce, threatening look came into
his flashing eyes, he moistened his parched
and cracking lips with the*tip of his tongue,
and was about to speak, when for the first
time, he discovered the presence of the
superintendeut’s daughter.

1e paused suddenly, checking himself by
a quick, nervous effort, and the angry took
which had appéared ‘upon his face softened
perceptibly, while a terrible struggle seemed
to be taking place within his breast.

For a moment he stood, gazing upon that
bright anxious face, and then, with great
sobs bursting from his lips and his: face
buried in his hands, he turned and blindly
groped his way toward the door through
which he quickly disappeared, while father
and daughter followed his retreating form
with saddened looks and hearts melting with
sympathy for the sturdy, grief-stricken en-
gineer.

‘‘What was the trouble, papa?’’ quickly
spoke Ethe) Trowbridge, as-she rose and ad-
vanced to where ber father stood, statue-
like in the centre of the big office floor.
‘‘Why did you discharge Mr. Purcell in that
way? Did he not run your winning engine
to-day?’’

Superintendent Trowbridge appeared not
to have heard the words of his daughter,
but, with staring gaze, stood looking out of
the window, away up the valley to where
a beautiful little cottage nestled among the
trees upon a commanding eminence that
marked the site of Joe Purcell’s home, and
as he thought of a patient, sad-faced wife
and a bright, honest lad, whose lives were
so soon to become clouded with an awful
sorrow, he mentally resolved to see that the
hapless twain should not come to want, even
if the father should take the swift road to

Then he felt the touch of his daughter’s
warm hand upon his own icy palm, and he
quickly recovered control of his truant
thought.

‘‘Don’t perplex me with questions, dear,’’
he said. ‘‘The business of the road should
not concern you—-—”?

‘*But, papaf’’ and the inquiring, upturned
face revealed a strong, almost womanly,
intelligence, ‘‘You might tell me! Was—
had Mr. Purcell been drinking, papa?’’

Superintendent Trowbridge shook his head
sadly, and turned to seat himself at the
desk, at the same time replying:

‘*You saw the evidences of that; did you
not, Edith? It is needless for me to speak
further upon a subject which is so very
painful to me,”’

The tone of her parent’s voice clearly in-
formed winsome Edith Trowbridge that it
was entirely out of the question to seek fur-
ther information from him, hut she could
not drop the subject without indulging in
the proverbial ‘‘last word’’ accredited to
her sex:

‘*Well, papa, he told you that he was in-
nocent, did he not? It seems to me that you
weighing the evidence on both sides——’’

She paused, fearing tbat she had said too
much, for there was a stern, reproachtul
light in her parent’s eye that by no means
betrayed approbation.

To an observer it would have appeared that
the superintendent did not hear the words of
his daughter.

But Joshua Trowbridge was a thinking
man.

He knew that his daughter’s remarks were
but axiomatical truths; words which he
might weigh to an advantage, and in the
succeeding weeks he, often had occasion to
recall them, and to think also of that trite
old saying which he had often heard in
childbood days:

‘‘Even a’'wise man may learn something
from a child,”’

The superintendent had indeed learned
a deep and lasting lesson from the utter-
ances of his much adored daughter.

CHAPTER V.

A DEBT OF BLOOD.

TERN-FACED, grizzly, and clad in
& garments that were fully three sizes

too large for him, Old Mortimer

Brayley half-crouchee before the few
smoldering embers that were dying upon
his hearth, and glared with almost savage
ferocity into the ever lessening bed of coals,
while now and then a tiny flame leaped up-
ward from the little heap of fuel, and this
flickering light alone dispelled the darkness
of the gloomy chamber in which the miserly
old money-lender was sitting.

His face was colorless as parchment, and
almost devoid of expression as he sat there
with his mind engrossed in thought, while
his long, thin fingers, clutching at a small
tin box that rested upon his knees, seemed
more like the claws of some gigantic bird
of prey than like the fingers of a man.

But the most striking feature of this truly
singular looking individual were the deep-
set gleaming eyes, which flashed and turned
with never ‘ceasing restlessness beneath
the beetling gray brows that adorned his
face.

For a moment they seemed fixed upon the
little flame before him and then, as though
possessed of extraordinary penetrative
rower, they burned and flashed like the fire
itself, as he peered into the darkness of
the chamber.

‘¢*] wonder when he will be here,’’ mut-
tered the old man, as he started up and
listened intently. ‘‘l fancied I heard a
sound, but it must ’a been the wind rattlin’
some loose board on the side o’ the house.
Ugh! ’Tis a rough night!’’ and then rising,
he shook himself until his emaciated figure
seemed to fairly rattle within the stiff, gar-
ments with which he was clad. ‘‘It’s just
such a night as that when Henry Nesmith
met his death,’’ and the old miser shuddered
again, as though his brief soliloquy recalled
unpleasant memories of the past. ‘

He stood for a long time gazing into the
dying blaze, and then he lighted a small oil
lamp and placed it upon the little table in
the centre of the floor. The tiny flame
struggled ineffectually to shed a few un-
certain rays of light through the smoke-
begrimed chimney, and eee the little
tin box which he still clutched tightly in his
bird-like claws, the old man produced from
among the numerous documents ‘which it
contained, a mortgage and promisory note,
which he examined with a gleam of covetous
satisfaction in his flashing, bead-like eyes.

‘‘Ab! this property is now worth double
its value at the time Joe Purcell gave me
this note. The investment has been a good
one; capital, indeed! But Purcell must
come down with the interest, or I’ll have to
foreclose, that’s all,’? and the scheming old
mortgagee gloated over the document as
though his very life were considered in the
closely written contract instead of the sum
of one thousand dollars, which represented

he would stand muttering, listening, wait-
ing!

At last a step was heard upon the plank
outside the door, and the old man hastened
to concea) his box underneath the lid of the
little table. Then aloud knock resounded
upon the panel, and before the grizaly Shy-
lock could respond to the summons, the
door was thrust inward and the well-known
figure of Joe Purcell] stalked into the room
and paused close to where Brayley was
standing.

‘* Devenin’, Purcell,’’? gruffly articulated
Old Brayley, ‘'Then you did come at last.
I’m right glad you won the race to-day-——”’

The speaker paused aghast, for the face
which he saw before him, in the dim light
of the single oil lamp, bore only the slightest
resemblance to that of the old engineer, but
was instead, the picture of death personl
fied, in its ghastly whiteness, and in the
wild, set gleam of a pair of eyes which
seemed to pierce the miser
through.

For a brief period there was no reply, and
the nervous, hasty breathing of the ol
man was perfectly audible throughout the
room. The silence became intense.

Then Joe Purcell’s voice broke from the
colorless lips, and its tones seemed to startle
the listener even more than the engineer ®
personal appearance had done.

There was a strange, husky cadence in the
tone, and somehow Brayley felt a cold chill
creeping up and down his spinal column as
he surveyed the speaker from head to foot.

‘‘Yes, I’ve come, Mortimer Brayley;
slowly articulated the ghost-like appearius
engineer. ‘‘l have come just as I agreed to
do; like a dog to the lash, or a slave to the
whipping post., But I have not come as you
may suspect for the purpose of paying a

mail which for years I have acknowledged,
but which I am now going to dast off. [have
come to tell you, Brayley, that I shall, a
longer submit to the humiliation, nor yie
to your unrelenting demands for interest,
interest, interest, which rings incessad
in my ears like the wail of a lost soul, or
the chilling echo of blood !’’ al
The speaker’s voice rose to a high, sor
treble and then died away into an almos
inaudible whisper, Its vibrating echoes }@
scarcely ceased to fill the chamber W a
Mortimer Brayley’s lips parted, revealing mA
double row of fiendish yellow fangs, an be
mocking peal of laughter gave reply 6?
visitor’s words of defiance. ge
‘*You will not pay the interest, Joe eA
cell!’’ he cried, ‘*You come here,to tell B
that you defy me,’’ and there was the oa
of unrelenting oe in that nae
grating voice. ‘‘Tell me, man, do I ue
stand you?’’? and he moved a step nea! ote
where Purcell stood, deflant and frow?
upon the man who thus cohfronted him...
The engineer’s form was drawn the
fullest height, and be silently regarded pled
old miser as his body shook and tre”?
with the violence of his emotion.
The fire at that instant burst int
flame and illuminated the strange sce?
Old Brayley stood with his thiv,
right hand uplifted’in a warning manne red
he confronted the man who had thus
to fling deflance into his very teeth. pay
‘Ah! Joe Purcell, you will pay me: my
me every cent, for well you know, tbe
power, Right well you may say tha ‘ike
demands for interest ring in your ea”*
the echo of blood.’
‘Ts it not indeed the price of blood? ight,
.“¢Dos’t remember that dark, stor™
years ago, when, reeling from your
cups, you met and quarreled wit
Nesmith?. y) that
‘‘Ah! Yes; you start! You do reca @bich
night and the still darker crime h came
the unfortunate victim of your wrat y owD
to an untimely fate by a pistol in Yo"
hands. Jas
‘*You do remember how I yielded ‘sealed
to your urgent appeals, and how om the
my lips that you might go free frorved
punishment which you so richly § oa w
and which would have landed you in
derer’s cell! iit pites UF
“Joe Purcell, the bond. which ™™ ctroke
can be easily sundered; one mas R pat tel
and it would vanish! Then wou dis jight-
rible truth appear in all its flen@’™ qed by
Then would you find yourself surTe would
a cloud of sorrow and darkness W oblivion
at last envelop you in eterna e witb
Why, then, do you dare to confroP
suk childish folly? will
‘(T know—you know, that yOU (ont

ure

us

for your wife’s sake, and because Yakin€
aware that immediately upo? vay threat
the stand which you have #/T@4 4 cart
ened to take I will unbosom ™ ;
the world and tell what I know 9
fate of Hank Nesmith !’’ the ens aris
‘*Tnhuman wretch!’’ gaspe tters Fp out
being, as he felt the awful fe ntex’ ae at
bondage drawing tighter and 8 tb
him. ‘‘Could I but know the fully 4
night’s dark work—could I but terious ©.
stand every feature of the MY joth
I would hurl defiance in you! unk: ©
out hesitation. But no! I was ar w

 

the miser’s claim upon Engineer Joe Pur-
cell’s tidy little home.

Several times the old man went to the
window and tried to peertout into the inky

 

ruin by attempting to drown his sorrows in
the intoxicating cup.

darkness, then, returning again to the light,

d
, by the accursed demon, rum; m
,earth can prove that it wee
; that fired the fatal shot——

the
“Sh! I hear a step peneath

through and

the intérest on that infamous debt of black- »

oa ruddy

Aas sone.
your obligation, if for no other Te8™ oy are

 

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GooD NEWS.

   

S.

 

dow !’’ interrupted Old Brayley at this in-
stant, and before Purcell could divine the
old miser’s motive, the light had been ex-
tinguished like a flash, leaving the room in
inky darkness,

A moment later, the engineer could faint-
ly hear Brayley creeping across the floor in
the direction of the window, and he awaited
developments; thinking that possibly the
old man might discover the presence of a
Chance eavesdropper.

Reaching the pane, Brayley drew the
heavy shade. He peered out into the inky
darkness of the night, but his attempt to
discover a human presence was futile, al-
though he fancied that he caught the shad-
owy glimpse of a dark figure hastening from
the spot.

Then the old miser suddenly recalled
the fact that his treasured tin box and its
valuable contents was still upon the little
Shelf beneath the table; within easy reach
of his visitor, should Purcell chance to
know of its whereabouts.

The thought sent a sudden thrill of alarm
coursing through his veins.

He drew a quick gasp of nervous fear,
and cold beads of perspiration started from
every pore as he turned to retrace his steps

- toward the centre of the room. At the same

time hé loudly called Purcell’s name, but
there came no reply save the faintly audible
sounds of retreating footsteps,

Instantly the old man apprehended that
his suspicions were being confirmed. The
engineer was trying to escape with the box
of stolen documents, Nerved to desperation
by what fancy had made seem real, the old
man again called loudly to the escaping
engineer to halt, and then, scarce waiting
for a reply, he made a quick dart in the
direction of the door, thinking to intercept
118 man there, when his foot suddenly
Caught upon the rocker of his big chair
and, tripping, Brayley plunged helplessly
Orward; his head came in violent contact
With the edge of the half open door, myriads
of shooting stars danced fantastically be-
fore his eyes, and then he plunged heavily
to the floor with the full belief that he had
besn struck down by the hand of the man
Whom he had been attempting to intercept.

As he sank, dazed and almost senseless,
to the cold floor, he distinctly heard a door
Open and close, and then he raised his voice
Ina loud shout for aid,

CHAPTER V1.
THR OLD MONEY LENDER’S SOLILOQUY.

s -
Rey ORTIMER BRAYLEY’S fears con-

\ cerning his tin treasure box were
intensified by this sudden disap-

_°S* pearance of the man who, above
all Others, he felt sure was anxious to get

1s hands upon it.

Joe Purcell had a wholesome dread of the
48ed miser; that Brayley himself knew full
Well, If he could but secure the coveted

Sed and papers which the venerable money
®nder possessed, then the damaging evidence
Which that worthy held against him would

® in a great measure removed.

Drayley was as shrewd as the traditional

ser ever was. He foresaw the condition
°f affairs should Purcell secure the note and
Mortgage, He knew that his hold was strong
Upon the engineer, but without these docu-
Ments he realized that bis situation would
Hot be so favorable as it had been in the past.

+e old man staggered to his feet, and
Taised his voice in a wild shout which,
yerer, he knew could not avail him, for
om lived there alone in that house, several
poae from the main traveled thoroughfare,
he ho one ever came’to the building ex-
tent upon some business of a nature similar
nigh’ which had brought Joe Purcell to-

    

oS

die elP! Help!’’ he shouted, but his voice
a away into the gloom and the only an-
St ®f was the sounds made by several half-
a ned rats that had appeared in search of
bag ole crumb as soon as the light had
b

ae ®xtinguished, but hastened to scamper

Cries to their hiding-places again when bis

disturbed them.

the ® groped his way toward the centre of

room, resolved to light the lamp as soon
possible, and then discover if his treasure
8 indeed gone.
Wa ‘ith his hands extended he moved for-
with: With more speed than was consistent
& tri the nature of his sarroundings, and in
that he camé in contact with something
loud he fancied to bea man. He uttered a
that Shout, and sprang to one side, fearing
Pibs |? Might next feel a knife piercing bis
with 8 he did so his body came in contact
fami 2° table and that rickety piece of
flooy 78 went down in a heap ppon the
of Ale 74 Brayley himself in the midst
it reck,
troop! Murder! Thieves!’? he shouted
Stry ye centre of the litter and then he
Was” ed to regain his feet, for if some one
the room, as he now believed, he had
°re time than was necessary to get out

om
of
the Would-be murderer’s way.

- at th rolled over and over and came upright

hang “°ry farther corner of the room, His
cudgel wine in contact with a thick, round
Wn’ hicl ich he instantly recognized as his
Somew Ckory cane, and in a moment he felt

“wh at reassured,
Saver you are,’’ he cried, ‘‘beware. I

 

 

havea weapon, and I shall use it freely——’”’

He paused and listened. What was that he
heard?

It sounded like a peal of mocking laugh-
ter, and then he again thought of his treas-
ure box, and wondered if indeed some one
had been in the room besides Purcell. With
the thought that possibly his own fancy had
deceived him, his courage was partially re-
stored, and hastily securing a match he
lighted it. By the flickering blaze he saw
that he was algne in the room, but he could
discover no trace of the tin box, before the
match had expired.

With feverish haste he brought out an-
other light, while a groan escaped him as
he pictured the wreck of the table in the
centre of the floor.

But as the little flame illuminated the
scene, and he stooped and lifted the cover
of the wrecked table he gave a shout of joy,
for there was the box intact, underneath
the lid, where he had placed it before Pur-
cell had come.

The lamp was shattered, but the miser
produced a candle which he lighted, and
then he proceeded to make an estimate of
the loss incurred by his thrilling experience.

‘*One table—that was a good table! I’ve
had it now close to sixty years—cost two
dollars, if it cost a cent. It’s gone; that’s
sure! There is that lamp that Pve had so
long, too, in the wreck with the rest,

‘*And all for Joe Purcell! All for the
man whose very life I hold at my command.

‘‘Why don’t I settle this thing at once?
Why don’t I take the house off Purcell’s
hands and turn him into the world? I don’t
care if he hasn’t a cent; if be goes begging.
What difference will it make to me? |] know
the secret of his life, and he don’t dare
defy me, I will do it! Joe Purcell, beware!
I am settled in my determination and I will
cause you to regret those words of defiance
which you hurled at me here to-night!’’

The old man’s eyes glittered like the orbs
of a serpent. He twisted his fingers among
his snowy locks and rubbed his hands to-
gether as though be were washing them in
invisible soap.

A look of genuine fiendishness contorted
his face. He turned with a little start to-
ward the door, and then he tip-toed across
the floor and placed a heavy bar across the
door so that no one could enter, after which
he took the candle and passed from the
room, bearing his treasured tin box with
him, and muttering as he went:

‘*Yes, Joe Purcell, I will have that house
now, You have defied me, and I will bring
you to terms at any cost. You have defied
the wrong man this time.’’

Two minutes later the grizzly old miser
was bending over a. hole in the floor of
a small, windowless room of his abode,
and crouching there he peered down into the
mysterious depths and gloated over a pile of
gold and silver that lay heaped within the
narrow compartment.

‘‘My yellow beauties,’? he whispered.
‘*You are my treasures, my life, my very
God! I worship you above all else,’’ and
with this startling ejaculation, he deposited
the tin box among the heaps of gold and re-
placed the heavy stone hearth which, when
raised, revealel the hiding-place of his
treasure.

At that instant a loud knocking was heard
upon the outer door.

Old Brayley became ghostly white as he
suddenly extinguished his candle, and then
listened for a repetition of the sounds.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)
——_——_ > 6 <> ____—_
FATHER TO THE MAN.

 

‘‘Father,’’ asked Tommie, the other day,
‘‘why is it that the boy is said to be the
father of the man?”?

Mr. Tompkins had never given this sub-
ject any thought, and was hardly prepared
to answer offhand.

‘‘Why, why,’’ he said, stumblingly, ‘ ‘it’s
so because it is, I suppose.”?

‘‘Well, pa, since I’m your father, I’m go-
ing to give you a quarter to go to the cir-
cus, and ten cents to spend, besides. /I al-
ways said that if [ was a father 1 wouldn’t
be so mean as the rest of them are. Go in,
father, and have a good time while you’re
young. I never had a chance myself !’?

Mr, Tompkins gazed in blank amazement
at Tommie. Slowly the significance of the
hint dawned upon him. Produeing a half-
dollar, he said:

‘“Pake it, Thomas, When you really do
become a father, I hope it won’t be your
misfortune to have a son who is sharper
than yourself.’’

——_—__>- +> —____

TURNING THE TABLES.

Visitor—‘‘Why, how big you are growing,
Tommie; if you don’t look out you will
be getting taller than your father,”’

Tommie—‘‘I don't care if I do. I’ll get even
then. Pa will have to wear my old trousers
cut down for him, and then he will know
what it’s like.’’

—_—_->-e--

‘* Your son is a photographer, I believe?’’

“ig 39,"7

‘*And they say he is quite an artist.’’

‘*An artist? lie is that. Why, sir, he can
take a speaking likeness of a dumb person,’’

 

‘How To Bo Funes.

EDITED BY DAVID PARKS.

 

——

SOME HINTS ON SWIMMING,

 
 
  

HE time is rapidly approaching when
,2 all boys who live near sea, lake, river,
L) or pond are thinking of taking to the
water, and so a few words about
swimming, I think, will not be untimely.

The art of swimming is not a difficult one
to master, and every boy should attain it at
as early an age as possible. To say nothing
of his own greater safety, occasions often
arise where a knowledge of it would enable
a boy to save the life of some playmate or
friend, The one great thing to be first im-
presssed on a learner’s mind, is not to allow
himself to become afraid too easily. Even
should he go under water he has only to
close his mouth and keep it closed, and he
will surely come to the surface again, No
person need be drowned, save from exhaust-
ion or inability through cramp, if presence
of mind be retained. Be sure and don’t
open your mouth when under the water, if
a should happen to get beyond your depth

efore you know how to swim.

Until that is done, and a quantity of
water admitted into the body, you are per-
fectly safe. The human body is only slightly
heavier than the voluine of water it dis-
places, and when the chest is filled with air,
it is, in fact, lighter than the volume of
water displaced, and hence cannot sink un-
til the conditions are altered. A person, be-
ing in danger, has only to turn'on his back
so as to bring his nose and mouth above the
water, and by any movement of the hands
he will be kept afloat for an indefinite length
of time.

Don’t go into the water when the stom-
mach is full, or when overheated, or ex-
hausted from fatigue. It is also bad to walk
until you are hot, then undress, sit down and
get cool, and then enter the water.

STRIKING OFF AND SWIMMING.

In striking off, the learner should fall
toward the water gently, keeping his head
and neck perfectly upright, his breast ad-
vancing forward, his chest inflated; then,
withdrawing the legs from the bottom, and
stretching them out, strike the arms for-
ward in unison with the legs. The back can
scarcely be too hollowed, or the head too
much thrown back, as those who do other-
wise will swim with their feet too near the
surface, instead of allowing them to be about
a foot and a half deep in the water. The
hands should be placed just in front of the
breast, the fingers sarap. forward and kept
close together, with the thumbs to the edge
of the forefingers; the hands must be made
rather concave on the inside, though not so
much as to diminish the size. In the stroke
of the hands, they should be carried forward
to the utmost extent, taking care that they
do not touch the surface of the water; they
should next be swept to the side, at a dis-
tance from, but as low as, the hips; and
should then be drawn up again, by behaing
the arms toward the side, bending the elbows
upward and wrists downward, so as to let
the bands hang down while the arms are
raising them to the first attitude.

HOW TO MANAGE THE LEGS.

The legs, which should be moved alter-
nately with the hands, must be drawn up
with the knees inward, and the soles of the
feet inclined outward; and they should then
be thrown backward, as widely apart from
each other as possible. These motions of the
hands and legs may be practiced out of the
water; and while exercising the legs, which
can only be done one at a time, the learner
may rest one hand on the back of a chair to
steady himself while be moves the opposite
leg... When in the water, the learner must
take care to draw in his breath at the instant
that his hands, descending to his hips, cause
his head to rise above the surface of the
water; and he should exhale his breath at
the moment his body is propelled forward
through the action of the legs, If he does
not attend precisely to these rules, he must
invariably have a downward motion, and,
as the boys say, swim furthest where it is
deepest.

PLUNGING AND DIVING,

There are two kinds of plunging; that be-
longing to shallow, and that belong to deep
water. In shallow water plunging, the
learner should fling himself as far forward
as possible into the stream at a very oblique
angle; and when he touches the water he
should raise his head, keep his back hollow,
and stretch his hands forward,

In the deep-water plunge his body is to
descend at a greater angle; his arms are
to be stretched out, his hands closed and
pointed, and his body bent, so that his nose
almost touches bis knees.

SWIMMING ON THE SIDE.

In this the body is turned either on the
left or right side, while the feet perform
their usual motions. The arm from under
the shoulder stretches itself out quickly, at
the same time that the feet are striking.
The other arm strikes at the same time with

,

 

the impelling of the feet. The hand of the
latter arm begins its stroke on a level with
the head. While the hand is again brought
forward in a flat position, and the feet are
contracted, the stretched-out hand is, while
working, drawn back toward the breast, but
not so much impelling as sustaining. As
swimming on the side presents to the water
a much smaller surface than on the waist, the
former is often preferable to the latter where
rapidity is desired.
SWIMMING ON THE BACK,

In this the swimmer turns upon his back
in the water by the combined motion of the
arm and leg, and extending his body, his
head being ina line with it, so that the back
and upper part of the head may be immersed,
while the face and breast are out of the
water, The hands should be placed on the
thighs straight down, and the legs moved as
in forward swimming, taking care that the
knees do not rise above the surface in strik-
ing them out. Sometimes the hands are used
after the motion of a wing or fan, by which
a slight progress is also made at the same
time that the surface of the body is well
lifted out of the water,

HAND OVER HAND SWIMMING.

In this process the right hand is lifted out
of the water from behind, swung forward
through the air with a kind of circular
sweep to the extent of its reach forward,
then dropped into the water edgeways, and
immediately turned, with the palm a little
hollowed, downward, the body being at the
same time thrown alittle on one side, and
the right leg stuck out backward to its full
extent. The hand descends toward the thigh,
and then passes upward through the water
in a kind of curve toward the surface. The
left hand and leg perform a similar move-
ment alternately with the right, and the
measure of progression attained by these
combined movements is very considerable.

FLOATING.

The body is laid herizontally on the back,
the head is bent backward as much as possi-
ble, the arms are stretched out over the head
in the direction of the body, the feet are left
to their natural position; if they sink, the
loins must be kept as low as possible. In this
position, the person, who is specifically
ighter than water, remains, and may float
at pleasure. The lungs should be kept in-
flated, that the breast may be distended and
the circumference of the body augmented.
In order not to sink while in the act of taking
breath, which the greater specific weight of
the body would effect, the breath must be
quickly expelled, and as quickly drawn in
again, and then retained as long as possible;
for, as the back is in a flat position the sink-
ing, on account of the resistance of the water,
does not take place so eon but the quick
respiration will restore the equilibrium be-
fore the water reaches the nose.

TREADING WATER.

This is a perpendicular position of the
swimmer, and is of great use to enable him
to save a person from drowning. It is in
general thought to be extremely difficult,
but it is very easy, There are two ways of
performing the action; in the first the hands
are compressed against the hips, and the feet
describe their usual circle; the other mode
consists in not contracting both legs at the
same time, but one after the other, so that
while one remains contracted, the other
describes a circle. In this mode, however,
the legs must not be stretched out, but the
thighs are placed in a distended position, and
curved as in a half-sitting posture.

The foregoing comprises all the elemen-
tary principles of the art of swimming, and
what remains to be learned will be acquired
without trouble when the student bas mas-
tered the various movements described.

—_——_- > + —____—
A LITTLE TOO FAST,

A merchant advertised for a sharp lad as
messenger, and several applicants presented
themselves in due course, but the advertiser
declined to engage any, as they were not
active enough.

At length a small boy entered the office
with an air of confidence, and was ushered
into the presence of the merchant.

‘Want a boy, sir?’’ inquired the applicant.

‘*¥Yes, my lad, and one that can move his
legs,’’ replied the advertiser.

“J think I could give you eighty yards
out of a hundred, and beat you easy, sir,’’
said the youth.

‘*Indeed, my lad. Hem—I’m afraid you
won’t exactly suit us. Now, in the event of
your taking a fancy to the cash box and
running away with it, we should have \a
tremendous task to catch you. No, my hoy,
you are much too fast,’? murmured the ad-
vertiser, as the individual retired with a
erestfallen air.

—____2 oo ———

Presser—‘‘When my boy came to work for
you | told him to be economical, and save
all that he could.’’ /

Hegser—‘‘He has followed your advice in
one particular, at least.’’

‘* Has he?’’

‘‘Yes, indeed. I never had an employee
that was so particular about saving his
strength,’’

   
   
ok

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

LAD ELECTRIC;

OR,

The Most Wonderful Boy in the World,

His Escapades, Escapes and Adven-
tures at Home and Schoo) with
‘rhe Terrible Touch.”

>

BY BARRY TALLYHO.

——<$ @

(“Lap ELECTRIC” was commenced in No. 313. Back
numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.)

a oe

CHAPTER XXII.
LAD’S **CARNIVAL OF FUN.”

Ne AD, rising, walked coolly up to the
dl z platform, where the doctor grasped
him by the shoulder, and staring the

G=~ boy frowningly in the face, asked,
angrily:

**Do you suppose I intend to have my au-
thority ignored and overridden in this im-
pertinent manner? What do you mean by
your actions, young man?’’

‘“] mean that I’m not a sneak, never was,
and never will be,’’ replied Lad, resolutely,
and looking the angry man squarely in the
eye. ‘‘If any fellow jumps on me Ill do my
best to show him that he’s trying toride the
wrong mare. I won’t be imposed on, if I
can help it, but I won’t run tattling to the
masters with everything.”’

A murmur of approval for this manly sen-
timent rose in the class-room.

‘¢Silence!’’ thundered the doctor.

Then, more mildly, to Lad:

‘*Your argument may be good in some
cases, but in the present, far from being de-
serving of condemnation, it would be a most
commendable action to give me any infor-
mation that may assist me in the suppression
of such a cowardly practice as hazing.’’

‘“‘That may be all true enough,’’ replied
Lad; ‘‘but the other fellows wouldn’t look
at it in that light.’’

‘Go back to your seat!’’ exclaimed the
doctor, in vexation. ‘‘Lamner, come here.’’

Lamner stepped up, directing a look of
hatred at Lad. f

‘*Now, Lamner, you say you recognized
the person who threw you into the water
butt last night, and that it was Harehurst?’’

‘‘Yes, sir,’? answered Lamner, shame-
facedly.

He realized keenly that this answer would
earn for him the liveliest contempt of his
comrades.

‘*You say, further, that you were the vic-
tim of a successful attempt at hazing on the
part of several pupils of this institution,
among whom you recognized only him?’’

Sees, sin”?

‘‘That a number of them set upon you and
several others, threw you into the water
butt, and would have ill-treated you further
had not the cries of yourself and fellow-vic-
tims so roused the place and alarmed them,
as to cause them to beat a precipitate re-
treat?’

‘ees, Siri”

At this most astounding statement the en-
tire room fairly gasped for breath.

‘*Well, if the Old Man is fool enough to
believe any such yarn as that,’’ exclaimed
more than one student to himself, ‘‘he must
be getting weak-minded in his old days.
Every fellow knows that Lamner tried to
haze the new boy last night, and has been
doing the same thing for some time past.’’

‘¢Well, if that don’t just lay over any-
thing I ever heard of!’ ejaculated Lad,
aloud. ‘‘I tell you, Lamner, when if comes
to tall lying you just run off with the whole
bakery. Talk about Ananias and Sapphira,
Munchausen and Gulliver, why, they can’t
come within a mile of you!’’

‘*Silefice!’’ roared the doctor. ‘‘You are
not asked to give your opinion now, sir!?’

Lad subsided for the time.

‘‘When you first told me your version of
the affair this morning, Lamner, I doubted
it,’? continued the doctor; ‘‘but now I am
rather inclined to give credence to it, partly
on account of Harehurst’s refusal to, answer
my questions. I will investigate the matter
further. You may return to your seat for
the present.’’

Now, it happened that when Lad first left
his seat, Lamner, wh6é sat in an adjoining
chair, leaned over and placed upon it a long
tack, point upward.

Lad, on his return, chanced to see this be-
fore he sat upon it.

Guessing where it came from, he promptly
transferred it to Lamner’s seat.

When the bully came back, he unsuspect-
ingly plumped right down upon it,

He got up again in a hurry, however,

‘Oh, oh!’? he cried, bouncing up on the
instant.

Reaching round behind him, he felt for
the tack, and tenderly extracted it.

‘*What’s the matter now?’’ demanded the
doctor.

‘“‘This tack. I just sat on it,’’ replied Lam-
ner, with a rueful face, ‘‘Harehurst put it
on my chair.’’

CrOOD

 

‘Tt would do you good to linger on that |

point,’’ laughed Lad.
“Pll pay you off for that soon,’’ said
wamner.

‘You put it on my seat first, anyhow, you
sneak,’’ retorted Lad.

‘*You’re a liar!’’

The words were no sooner out of the bully’s
mouth than Lad, picking up a small bottle
of ink that stood on the desk before him,
hurled it at him.

The bottle struck the bully on the fore-
head.

So thick was the glass it was made of that
it did not break, but the cork came out.

The ink poured down his cheeks, and ran
under his chin, and down his neck,

He was indeed a pretty looking picture,
with his face striped like a zebra’s with the
rivulets of black writing fluid.

The whole school burst into
laughter at the sight.

Even the doctor could not resist the conta-
gion.

‘‘Ha, ha, ha!’’ he roared, with as much
zest as the heartiest of them.

‘*Ha, ha, ha!’’ echoed the assistant mas-
ters, taking advantage of his example to
also relax their sternness and indulge in the
levity of the occasion.

‘*Ha, ha, ha!’’ guffawed the boys, rend-
ing the air with snorts of renewed enjoy-
ment,

‘<Ow, ow, ow!’ bellowed Lamner.

With a quantity of ink down his neck, in-
side his shirt collar, he couldn’t see any fun
in it, anyhow.

The doctor sobered up at once, so did his
assistants.

‘¢Harehurst!’’ exclaimed the former, with
great sternness, as if to make amends for
the levity of which he had been guilty,
‘‘what do you mean, sir? Take Lamner out
in the hallway, and help him to remove the
ink from his face at once.”’

‘‘Yes, sir,’? said Lad, meekly.

The meekness was assumed, however, for
he scented an opportunity for more fun.

Accordingly, he obediently accompanied
the bully out into the hallway.

Here, several yards from the doorway,
was a basin, with a faucet over it, anda
plug in the bottom, removable or not, as
one wished to keep water in the basin or let
it run out.

I.ad shoved the plug in, and turning the
faucet on, permitted the water to run until
the basin was almost full.

‘‘Now we’ll soon have you scrubbed up,’’
he exclaimed, cheerfully, and grabbing
Lamner by the nape of the neck, ducked his
face and head right in.

‘“‘Ow-w-w! Do you want to drown me?”’
cried the bully, as he pulled his head out,
spluttering and blowing.

: eee soap to take that off, too,’’ said
ad,

He plastered both his hands thickly with
soap, and then slapped them upon Lamner’s
face.

‘*Oh, oh!’’ cried the latter, ‘‘you’ve got
soap in my eye!”

‘*That’s so? Have a little in your mouth,
then, to even things up,’’ said Lad.

And he rubbed his soapy hands over the
bully’s lips.

‘‘Oh, what in the blank blazes are you
doing?’’ roared Lamner.

‘‘You’re so dirty-mouthed I’m trying to
wash it out a little,’’ retorted Lad.

Watching his opportunity, when the bully
had his mouth open in the act of speaking,
he dexterously popped one corner of the cake
of soap in.

—

a roar of

jaws together, his teeth went through the
soap, and he bit a piece off clean,

‘‘Ow-w-w! Pa—ah! That makes me sick !’’
he exclaimed, spitting it out.

‘*Keep your mouth shut, then, why don’t
you?’’ said Lad, dousing him in again before
he bad time to close it, thus causing him to
swallow a quantity of soapy water.

‘*Oh, just wait till I get you outside on the
campus, after hours! on’t I.take this out
of your hide!’? cried the bully. .

‘“Oh, you will, eh?’’? exclaimed Lad.
‘‘Well, if there’s going to bea settlement this
afternoon, I might as well put a httle more
on the bill.’’

At one side of the basin was a regular
scrubbing brush that the scrubwoman had
evidently left there by mistake the last time
she cleaned the hall.

In a jiffy Lad picked this up, and felt of
it. The bristles were hard and stiff.

‘*Just the thing I want!’’ said the scamp.,
‘*Now, we’ll fix you up!’

Grabbing Lamner, who was too much be-
watered, be-soaped, and bewildered to make
any resistance, he spun him round so that
his back was to the basin.

Then, putting his thumb under the bully’s
nose in the way all boys understand, he bent
him over backward until his head was again
directly over the basin.

Except that this time his face was turned
toward the ceiling, instead of the other

way.
Then he pulled out the plug in the bottom
of the basin, and turned the water on again.
‘‘Ow, ow!’’ howled Lamner, as the stream
from the faucet struck him in the eye.
‘‘What’s the matter with you, anyhow?”’
asked Lad.

 

He jerked him over so that the descending
water caught him in the other eye.

An instant later, as Lamner brought his |

 

;me,’’ said Lad, complacently. ‘‘It wouldn’t

 

NEW Ss.

—

 

‘‘Ow, ow! It’s in the other eye, now!”’
yelled Lamner.

‘Well, what are you growling about,
then? Ain’t that a wash for each? Hanged

if you ain’t the most unreasonable fellow I
ever run across! There’s no such thing as
pleasing you.”’

Picking up the big, coarse scrubbing brush,
he dipped it in the water, and then proceeded
to scrub away at the bully’s face with might
and main,

“Ow, ow, ow! Stop, stop! howled Lam-
ner. ‘*You’ll have all the skin off my face
in a minute if you keep that up!’’

Lad paid no attention to his cries, how-
ever, but scrubbed away at his face with ‘all
the strength of his muscular arm.

The situation was anything but agreeable
to Lamner.

He was held in such a position that he
could not bring his strength into play with
advantage, and thus free himself.

Meanwhile, the coarse stiff bristles and
hard rubbing caused his face to smart in-
tensely, and threatened, as he said, to tuke
the skin off along with the ink.

There was no let-up to Lad, however.

He continued to scrub away as though his
life depended upon it.

‘‘Oh, oh, stop, stop, I tell you!’’ cried
Lamner. ‘‘Don’t you see you'll have all the
skin off my face in a minute if you keep
on???

‘¢Can’t help that,’’ said Lad. ‘‘I’ll get the
ink off with it.’’

‘‘But what good will that do me? I’d
rather let the ink stay on, if the skin’s got
to come off, too.”’

‘‘Can’t help that, my boy. Obey orders if
you bu’st your boiler! The Old Man said to
get the ink off, and get the ink off I’m bound
I will, if it flays you alive!”

‘*Oh, oh, it smarts! Ow, how it smarts!
Stop, stop!’’

‘*We’ll make you a little smarter, old
boy.’’

Seeing no hope of release from his relent-
less persecutor, Lamner in desperation began
to yell murder,

‘‘Oh, oh! Help, helpi Murder, murder!
Harehurst is killing me! Help, murder!’’

This startling cry at once had its effect.

The doctor came flying out into the hall
himself, to ascertain the trouble.

‘‘What’s the matter here?’’ he demanded,
sternly, with thunder-clouds sufficient for a
dozen approaching storms on his brow.

‘Ow, ow, sir!’’? cried Lamner. ‘‘Hare-
hurst is killing me! See what he’s doing?
He’s taking all the skin off ny face!’’

‘Washing the ink off, sir, just as you told

come off by ordinary methods, so I had to
take the brush and scrub. Good thing,
though! develops the muscles !”’

‘*You young scoundrel!’’ roared the doc-
tor. ‘‘Go back into the room !’’

‘‘Just have patience for a few minutes
more, sir, and 171] have the ink all off. I’m
only just beginning to fetch it.’’

‘‘Go this minute!’’ thundered the doctor.
‘‘Do you hear?’’

‘‘Oh, yes, sir, I can hear very well. Don’t
strain your lungs on my account, please. It’s
bad for the throat, too,’’ replied Lad,
sweetly.

He tossed the scrubbing brush at Lamner,
giving him a clip on the ear which elicited
another howl.

“Tf you want to hear the melody, just
strike the keys,’’ commented Lad, walking
into the room.

He was followed by Doctor Wackins, leav-
ing the unfortunate Lamner to himself re-
move the ink from his face as best he could.

The doctor was almost beside himself with
anger.

‘““Young man,’’ he exclaimed, savagely,
‘‘vou seem to think you may run things here
as you please! I have received a letter this
morning from your uncle, detailing to me
some of your exploits, and giving you a very
bad reputation generally. But you will find
that you cannot have your own way at Shady
Haven Academy as you do at home. I shall
proceed to cane you severely, as an exam-

le.’?

‘*Shall you, sir??? asked Lad, innocently.

‘*Shall 1?” roared the doctor, ‘‘Of course
I shall! Didn’t you hear me say 1 should?
Lamner, go to my study and fetch me a
strong cane.’

‘¢‘Get a good one, for it’s got to do for
you, too, Lammy, my boy,’’ reminded Lad.

**Silence!’’ thundered the doctor.

‘‘We are on the verge of great events,’’
said Lad to himself. ‘‘We live in perilous
times. I fear—I very much fear that if
Doctor Wackins attempts to cane me I shall
have a bad attack of the Terrible Touch.’’

CHAPTER XXIII.
LAD ELECTRIFIES THE DOCTOR.

S-2 AMNER obeyed the order of the doc-
dj tor with alacrity.
<>, To have his enemy canedin public
G-” —to see him writhe and twist in
agony and a vain attempt to escape the
merciless switch as it played about his back
and legs—to hear him shriek and plead for
merey—in short, to feast his eyes on his suf-
fering and complete humiliation—ah, that
was a rare treat for one of Lamner’s dispo-
sition.
More especially was itso, since the outlook

 

was that his barefaced lies would save him
from the thrashing he so richly deserved.

Lad comprehended all this, however, and
cost what if might, was fully determined
that his enemy’s spite should not be gratified
by any such exhibition.

Lamuer left the room, and shortly re-
turned with a long, slender cane.

It was strong and elastic, however, and
on account of its very thinness would cut
into the flesh and probably inflict more pain
than a thicker one would have done.

Doctor Wackins bent it in a half-cirele
with his hands to try its temper.

The test was satisfactory, and he said
sternly to Lad:
‘Now, sir, take off your coat! Mr. Hor-

mer and Mr. Brown, you will please grasp
him by the wrists, to hold him in position
while I punish him,”’

Lad removed his coat, with a sly wink at
Chauncey.

Not a boy in the room but saw the wink,
however, and they were all on the qui vive
in an instant.

What would this audacious scamp be up tO
next?

Two of the assistant masters, Hormer and
Brown, each caught one of his wrists with
both hands.

The doctor turned up his cuffs, and
grasped the cane tightly.

All was in readiness when suddenly:

‘“*Oh, oh!”’

‘Oh! Oh, my!’?

The assistant masters leaped simultané-
ously into the air.

They came down, not alittle shaken UPs
and stood looking at each other in question~
ing surprise. :

‘‘Hello, what is the matter?’’ exclaimed
the doctor.

‘‘T’m sure I don’t know,’’ said Mr. Brow2.
‘‘T experienced a violent shock, which 1T@-
sistibly impelled me to the action.’’

‘¢‘My sensation exactly,’’ added Hormer-

‘‘It is rather singular,’’ said Doctor Wack
ins. ‘Are you up to any tricks, yous
man?’? :

“<1? How could Ihave anything to do with
it? Haven’t they got me in a ‘grip of § eel,
as the fellow says in the play?’’ querle
Lad, with a look of childlike innocence, a

‘*Well, we will soon settle it!’’ exclaime
the doctor, raising the cane again.

When, once more:

“Oh my! Oh}?

‘*Oh, oh!’’ .

Again did the masters spring into the 47
possibly a little higher than before. ‘th

Again they confronted* each other wit
looks of wonder.

‘«This is simply astounding !”” said Hormers

‘‘] positively cannot account for it,’’ 7°
marked Brown.

‘+Unless,’’ said Hormer,
glance, ‘‘it is the-boy.’’ se

‘Gentlemen, I don’t know what to ma
of your actions,’’ exclaimed the doctor;
rather warmly. ‘‘If you are both aflicny
with St. Vitus’ dance, or something of val
sort, you may go on the sick list, and YA
excuse you for to-day.’’ : é

‘Nothing of the sort the matter with ™%
sir, I assure you.’’ ; oye

‘‘Nor with me, either. 1 rose, this mor
ing, in the best of health.’ hile

“Keep still, then, and hold the boy, W ;
I cane him as he deserves.’ oh

Once more the cane was raised om hig
when, for the third time:

‘*Oh, oh, oh!”

‘Oh, my! Oh, my!”’ :

The masters went bouncing wil¢
the air again, but instead of stopp!)
one leap, continued to jump and shout. in

In his exasperation Doctor Wackine, ick
termined not to be foiled this time, sti
out with all the vigor of his sinewy 4° and

Lad had his eyes about him, howe ow
swung round in time to escape the)’
which came squarely across Brown’s bac ne

As the coat he wore was only a thin :
he felt it. ‘Ob,

‘Oh, oh! Oh, oh!?’ he cried out. trik-
oh! you are striking me, sir, you are §
ing me!’’

eThen why, in the name of commo” ert4
don’t you keep still, and hold the bat
will strike him??? demanded the 4°
wrathily.

‘‘Because I can’t hold him
Brown, ir

Both he and Hormer had withdraw? te
clasp from Lad’s wrists, to which he” ing
posed no obstacle, having carried bis P
so far.

‘¢Can’t hold him?’’ asked the doctor

“No, sir; I can’t hold him,’ Nobody
Brown, with not a little warmth. ut the
can hold him! There is something 2b0
boy that makes it impossible to ho
would as soon think of holding a liv
wire.”’ ati

This statement created a sensatio? ,
room. jons

Lad at one bound leaped into the affect
of the school. 17 caid

with a suspicious

g wit

‘‘This is a remarkable statement,
the doctor. ‘‘Are you quite sure
you say, Mr. Brown?’’ cd ;

1 am,” declared Brown, positively | yu-

‘‘There is certainly something very, ree
lar about the boy,’’ putin Hormer. ta ting

times, on touching him, Thave fet for bY

ling sensation I could only ace
the contact.’?

   

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. Self,’’ said Lad, solemnly.

' latte,

Way} 8 your nose!

 

‘Yes, sir, I don’t feel exactly right my-
‘* Perhaps you’d
better feel my pulse.’’

‘*Feel your pulse? Nonsense! A dodge to
escape a well-deserved punishment!’’ ex-
claimed the doctor.

‘All right, have it your own way. Only
I didn’t want you to get into any trouble in
Case there were serious consequences,’’ said
Lad, with all the gravity of an owl. ‘‘I
didn’t want to see yow incarcerated in the
damp, cold walls of a. cell, sir, after I drop

down dead, and have all the néwspapers |

going into ten-page articles about the poor,
Innocent little boy whipped to death by the
severity of his crue] schoolmaster. But have
it your own way. I suppose I can stand be-
coming an angel a little while earlier than
Usual. Fire away—at least that’s what the
Old Boy will do to you.’’

‘‘That is enough!’ exclaimed the doctor,
sternly, unable t> repress the audible titter
that ran round the“room. ‘‘Let me have
your pulse.’’

Lad extended his arm, and the doctor put
his thumb and finger on his wrist.

The next minute he went into the air with
a kangaroo bound.

Lad had, of course, brought the Terrible
Touch into play.

‘Oh, oh, ob!’’ cried the doctor, dancing

about as though the floor had suddenly be- |

come red-hot beneath his feet.

He presented a most comical sight, with
his long legs flying wildly about, and his
Coat tails flapping violently up and down.

With one accord, the boys burst intoa
Mighty roar of laughter, which was suc-

‘ceeded by another and another, interspersed

with little individual shrieks of merriment.

Even the masters could not but smile, as
they saw their superior getting a taste of
their own experience.

‘‘What’s the matter, sir?’’? asked Lad, in
apparent surprise. ‘‘Are you doing it for
fun???

‘*FWor fun!’ roared the doctor. ‘‘For fun?’’

“Yes, it might be your little way of
amusing yourself, you know.”’

**Amusing my—oh, oh! You young scoun-
drel, release me!’

*‘Maybe you’re practicing the kangaroo
dance, then. It’sall the go nowadays.’’

‘*Kangaroo—oh, I’ll kangaroo you for
this, young man!’’ fumed the doctor. ‘Stop,
Stop it at once, I tell you! Stop!”’

“Yes, sir. I’m stopping right here. I’m
Not running away at all, you see,’’ responded

ad, tranquilly.

“Oh, oh! Oh, this is really very painful!
Oh, my hand! Really, I shall be as limp as
& dish-rag. Inever had such a violent shak-
Ing up in my life before. You young scoun-

rel, I tell you—I command you, stop!

top, instantly !’’
une about that caning? Will you pass it
. ‘*Pass it off! Never!’? roared the doctor,
Mdignation getting the better of him. ‘‘I’ll
ay you! I'll skin you alive!”’

‘“‘That’s kind of you to be so lenient.

ight boil me in oil. Thanks.’’

‘‘Are you going to stop, you scoundrel?—
Oh—oh 1?

‘Hardly. It’s more sport to watch the
kangaroo dance than to be flayed alive,’’ re-

‘Plied Lad. ‘‘That’s too much of a skin affair

or me,’?

‘Oh, oh! Brown, Hormer, what are you
thinking about, you idiots? Don’t stand

®re like dummies! Pull him off!’

The assistants proceeded to execute the
angry command, not without inward mis-
Sivings,

These were speedily justified.

ey seized upon Lad, and he regarded it
hiy as a matter of common civility to pre-

Sent them with the Terrible Touch.

Oh, oh, oh!’’ howled Hormer.
h, oh, oh!’’ echoed Brown,
i Then there were the three of them danc-
4g and bouncing about, like so many pup-
Pets on a string that Lad controlled.
it As for the boysof Shady Haven Academy,
Was a perfect treat for them.
an ere was-a circus in the village that day,
‘ @ they were to be given a half holiday
nd attend in the afternoon in a body; but
‘pe already voted it a tame and spiritlesd
b ow in comparison with the ‘‘circus’? now
®fore them.
With ?, lay back in their seats, and roared
the; laughter until the tears rolled down
®ir cheeks,
the 7. bad they seen or heard before of
® like of this ‘carnival of fun’? that Lad

had inaugurated.

iT

sche Would go down in the annals of the

Sol for many a year, and Lad would be
Bio” long after Shady Haven knew him no

&\ »

Ket oh! Stop, stop!’’ cried Hormer.
unds let go, let go!’? cried Brown.

Toared’ oh! Hang—blame—confound it!”?
“hy the doctor, in a rage.

Brow. 2sing his fist wildly around it struck
HOE on the nose.

h, oh! My nose, my nose!’’ cried the

boseig’ waeping one hand to his injured pro-
OH, ‘You have hurt my nose!?’

5 Keep it out of the
Suaa roared the doctor.

dentally Hormer’s foot flew up and acci-
«9 t00k the doctor in the stomach,

9h! cried the latter, doubling up

Jack-knife.

~It—was an accident, sir,’’ Hormer

 

was chatteringly trying to explain, when
Brown’s toe came violently in contact with
his shin in the most tender part.

**Oh!’? he shouted, in one yell of agony.

‘*T didn’t mean it. I[t——’’ began Brown.

**Oh, my shin!’?

“*Oh, my nose!’?

‘fOh, my stomach!’’

Such were the wailings that went up from
the trio of unfortunates, ,

In the midst of the excitement, however,
in came two more masters, who had been
detained elsewhere on private business up to
this moment.

At sight of the yelling, dancing mass, they
paused, transfixed with horror.

“Time to stop it, | reckon,’’ said Lad to
himself, ‘‘The enemy have received rein-
forcements, and is about to descend on me
in overwhelming numbers. I?ll be flitting.”’

Releasing his victims, he thade a dash and
secured his coat and hat, and shot out of
the door.

‘“Though you may not see,
You’ll remember me,’?
he called after him, as he crossed the campus
at a two-forty gait.

CHAPTER XXIV.

MOLLIE WACKINS’ AWFUL PERIL.

A

FTER running a short distance and

finding that he was not pursued, Lad
Me seated himself on a large rock by the
“2 wayside, and reviewed the late events
in his mind.

‘*Well, I guess I woke them up _ pretty
effectually,’’? he thought, with satisfaction.
‘Tf they’ve ever had anything up here “be-
fore to equal that, I’m a Dutchman!’’

‘*Wasn’t it comical, though, to see the
three of them prancing around—especially
old Wackins; he did just take the bun,’’ he
continued, with ringing laughter. ‘‘I’d give
anything to have an instantaneous photo-
graph of that scene to keep. It would cure a
fellow of the blues to get just one squint at
it. Kind of funny they don’t run after me,
though. Maybe they don’t want to catch
me or get me back.’’

The reflection caused by this idea was a
serious one.

‘By George, that’s just it!’’ he exclaimed,
with a long whistle of surprise. ‘‘They won’t
have me back. They’ll expel me, sure as
shooting, after rubbing it in to Doctor Wack-
ins in that style. The Old Man might over-
look it, if it were only Brown and Hormer,
but he’ll never forget or forgive being made
a fool of in front of his own school.’’

Boylike, now that the deed was done, he
began to regret it.

‘*I’m sorry, for I’ll bet it’s a nice place.
I like some @f the fellows first rate, Chaun-

 
  

  

| cey especially. But I couldn’t resist giving

it to the doctor, more so when he wanted to
cane me. Confound that sneak, Lamner! It
was all on account of the ghost story he gave
the doctor about my hazing him. If I ever
come across him again, I bet I’l] make it
true, though.

‘*Well, what shall I do now? Go back, say
I’m sorry, and take the caning like a good
little boy, while that cur, Lamner, stands
by and grins? Nixey, Jim, that dose is a
little too strong for us. We’ll have the ex-
pulsion first. They can’t do more than kill
me nine times, as the cat remarked, when
the boot-jack hit him. And now to putin the
time for awhile.’’

He had no fixed plans for the present, and
wandered about in a happy-go-lucky way,
taking in the sights of the neighborhood,
until he chanced upon a large space of
ground, on which a number of men had just
finished setting up a big circus tent.

‘“*Hello, going to have a circus heré?’’
asked Lad, going up to one of the men, who
seemed to be superintending the actions of
the others.

‘Yes, this
man. ‘

‘‘Where’s all your show?’’ pursued Lad,
looking around and seeing nothing but a few
wagons and the canvas-men.

‘*Oh, the show’s down in the village par
ading. We’re only just getting the tent up
for them when they get through.’’

‘*What time do you open?’?

‘“<T wo o’clock.?’

‘*T’ll have to take that in,’’ said Lad to
himself, as he walked off. ‘‘A fellow can
always enjoy a circus. But I’m going to get
some grub first.’’

Having the money to pay for it in his
pocket, he was easily able to procure a good
meal at one of the farm-houses about, and at
two o’clock presented himself as one of a
pushing, striving crowd at the entrance of
the circus tent, purchased a ticket and went
in

afternoon,’’ responded the

‘‘Here, you can’t sit there!’’? exclaimed
one of the attendants, as Lad was about to
seat himself in the front row, in an advan-
tageous position for witnessing the perform-
ance.

‘“What’s the reason I can’t?’

‘*That seat is reserved.’’

“Well, I’ve got a reserved seat ticket,’
said Lad, showing it. !

“So you have. Beg pardon, sir, but would
you mind sitting over here a way? You see
this space here is specially reserved for the
young gentlemen from Shady Haven Acad-
emy, who are expected any minute. Doctor

 

CGrooDp

 

 

NEWS.

Wackins sent over and engaged it this morn-
ing.’

‘Oh, is that so?
then.

me when they come.’’

He suited the action to the word, moving }
around the ring and choosing a seat on the |

other side, directly opposite.

The tent now began to fill up fast, and
Lad found much quiet amusement in ob-
serving the actions of those about him. Old,
weather-beaten farmers and their wives,
young rustics, and giggling, free-spoken
country girls and their swaius, in their
Sunday best, all.come out to ‘‘see the cir-
cus.’’

Presently the Shady Haven Academy boys
marched in, in a body, and filed into the
seats reserved for them.

At one end of the first row sat the doctor
and Mrs. Wackins and Mollie. Lad’s eyes
and those of the latter met, and he threw a
kiss to the saucy little witch.

She laughed in response, and drew her
fathet’s attention to him. But Doctor Wack-
ins bestowed upon him a look of stern and
uncompromising severity.

‘*T guess the Old Man’s down on me pretty
hard,’’ mused Lad. ‘‘I’m afraid my name
is what I told Mollie—Dennis Mud.’’

Several of the boys had noticed Mollie’s
actions, and had now located him. Chaun-
cey, Spencer, and the other fellows he had
entertained the night before waved their
hands to him, unseen by the doctor, which
salute he returned.

At this moment the performance began,
and Lad lost sight of them for a time in
following the different acts.

The ringmaster cracked his whip, and the
clown came tumbling in, heels over head,
in a series of handsprings, coming right side
up at last, with the remark:

‘*Hoop-la! Here we are again !?’

‘Well, we don’t want you,’’ said the ring-
master. ‘‘Here, get out!?’

‘*‘T am out,’’ returned the clown.

‘Oh, you are out, eh?’’

‘“Yes, Iam out that ten dollars I lent you
last week.’’

‘‘What about that ten dollars you lent me
last week?’’

‘You gave me your word you would pay
it back in a few days.’’

‘*T did, eh?’’

‘Yes, and now you won’t keep it.’’

‘*Quite likely. If I gave you my word how
could I keep it, too? Ha, ha! That’s one on
you, Mr. Phunnyman.”’

This raised a laugh, which the clown in-
creased by taking his little hat off, and
scratching his smooth, white pate.

‘*You’re most as bad as a friend of mine
in Missouri,’’ he remarked, when the laugh
had subsided.

‘‘How was that, Mr. Phunnyman?’’

‘*He went out hunting with an Indian,
and they shot a turkey and a crow. When
they came to divide the game my friend said,
‘Well, now, we'll fix this any way you like.
You can take the crow, and I’ll take the
turkey, or I’ll take the turkey and you can
take the crow.’’

‘tHe did, eh? And what did the Indian
say to that, Mr. Phunnyman?”’

‘*He said he supposed it was fair enough.
It sounded all right, but he noticed that
somehow, whichever way they fixed it, he
got the crow every time.”?

This brought out another Jaugh, at the end
of which the ringmaster cracked his whip,
and announced:

‘Monsieur Jacques, the Bareback King!”’

Monsieur Jacques, the Bareback King,
came riding into the ring, standing erect on
the back of his saddleless, galloping steed.

After a couple of circuits, he inverted him-
self, and stood on his head; then he laid
himself rigid across the animal, face up-
ward, and varied this by leaping from his
horse’s back to the ground and on again,
several times, with the animal at full speed;
and finally rode out of the ring amid thun-
ders of applause that declared Monsieur
Jacques a success.

‘*T should think Monsieur Jacques finds it
rather difficult to talk, after that turnout,’’
said the clown.

‘‘Why so, Mr. Phunnyman?’?

‘‘Oh, he must be rather horse,’’ and
springing away from the crack of the ring-
master’s whip, the clown turned three or
four somersaults, and came up with a grim-
ace that convulsed the tent.

‘‘Madame Aerial, Queen of the Flying
Trapeze!’’ called out the ringmaster.

Madame Aerial came running in with a
graceful little trot, throwing kisses right
and left in acknowledgment of the handclap-
ping that greeted her appearance.

Seizing a dangling rope, she quickly
mounted to the trapeze suspended high in
air, and proceeded to show herself mistress
of it in various ways.

Hanging head downward from it by her
knees, then by her feet, then by one foot,
standing erect upon it without support from
either rope; setting it to swing quickly back
and forth, and when it was going at good
speed, releasing her hold, to go flying through
air half across the tent, and catch the bar of
another trapeze there suspended; then to
swing and fly back to the first one in the
same way; winding up the whole in one
grand climax by standing on her head on
the narrow, round bar of wood,

 

 

 

5

She went out in a perfect storm of ap-

| plause, and had to return and bow her ac-
No, I won’t sit there, |
I’ll get around on the opposite side. |
I want to have the dear boys in front of |

knowledgments, and throw kisses galore,
before the audience would subside.

‘*T don’t like Madame Aerial,’’ said the
clown.

‘*Don’t like her?
man?’’

‘tOh, she has too many high airs for me.’’

‘‘Umbric, the lion tamer, and his great
performing lions, Gog and Magog!’ an-
nounced the ringmaster with a crack of his
whip. ‘‘Umbric will give an exhibition of
his wonderful power over animals, during
which he will actually put his head in the
lion’s mouth.’’

A pleasant little sensation of dread ran
round the tent at this announcement.
Though it sends the cold chills down one’s
spine to see a man thrust his head between
the jaws of a fierce-looking lion, there isa
fascination in the sight.

All eyes were turned on the entrance,
awaiting the coming of Umbric.

In a moment a wagon was drawn into the
ring, with stout bars at the sides, and con-
taining two lions, one in each end, anda
man standing between them.

There was a marked difference in the con-
duct of the animals.

The one in the rear end of the cage lay
peaceably upon the floor, with her eyes half
closed blinking lazily at her surroundings.

The other, however, was standing close
against the wall, with her eyes on the keeper,
and her mouth opened as though in a snarl.

‘*Down, Gog!’’ ordered the lion tamer,
sternly.

The lion replied by showing his teeth.

‘*Down, 1 say!’’ cried Umbric, advancing
fearlessly, and striking him sharply over the
back with an iron bar he carried.

The animal uttered an angry snarl, but
finding the eye of the man fixed unflinch-
ingly on his, recognized his master, and
sank to the floor.

‘“*That fellow means mischief,’’ said Lad
to himself. ‘‘I hope, for Umbric’s sake, that
that isn’t the one wbose mouth he has the
job of putting his head into.’’

Such was the general sentiment among the
audience.

They would have felt still more uneasy,
however, could they have heard the short
conversation that occurred before the cage
was drawn in.

The participants were the lion tamer and
Mr, Stillwell, the proprietor of the show.

‘*How are your pets to-day, Umbric?’’
asked the latter.

‘Oh, Magog is all right, but that Gog bas
got the very Old Nick in him,’’ replied the
lion tamer.

**Is that so?”’

‘*Yes, I never saw him so uneasy before.
He is hitching about all the time, trying to
avoid my eye, and three or four times I’ve
had to give bim a crack across the back to
make him mind me. I?ll bet he’ll do some-
body harm to-day, if he gets half a chance.
He was that way two years ago just before
he hurt poor Somers.”’

‘*] don’t like that,’’ said Mr. Stillwell.
‘“Do you think it is safe to let him go
through his performance?”

‘‘Oh, I haven’t the slightest doubt that I
can manage him,’’ replied the lion tamer.
‘*He’s afraid of me. It’s some one else I’m
afraid of his hurting.”’

‘“*Well, I should like to’give this act, be-
cause, you know, it is one of our biggest
cards, and if we skip it the people and the
local press will probably raise the cry that
we are frauds, and that will hurt our busi-
ness.’’

“All right, sir, I guess I can put him
through all right, and after the performance
T’]l just sail into him, and give him such a
pounding that he won’t cut up any of his
tricks for awhile, anyhow.’?

With these words, the tamer entered the
cage, which was drawn out into the ring.

‘*Yes, that fellow means mischief,’ re-
peated Lad to himself, watching the actions
of Gog.

The beast suddenly sprang up again.

Half the audience rose in their seats in ter-
ror, not liking the fierce actions of the brute.

“Sit down, ladies and gentlemen,’’ called
out the ringmaster. ‘‘Please be seated.
There is absolutely no danger. Gog isa little
uneasy, but Umbric will master him.’’

‘“Down, Gog, down!’’ cried the lion tamer,
fearlessly advancing upon the savage beast,
with his iron bar raised in air.

Gog, for answer, made a spring.

Not at the man, but, as if in terror of the
uplifted rod, at the side of the cage.

While every one expected him to be dashed
back by the contact with the iron bars, to
their horror they gave way, and he went
right through!

There was one awful moment of silence
and inaction, then wild panic seized upon
the audience. They rose and madly tore
toward the exit to escape the lion, who stood
in the centre of the ring, lashing his tail,
undecided how to spring.

In the confusion Mollie Wackins, who sat
in the front row, was, somehow, pushed over
and fell upon her face in the ring.

That decided the savage beast. He made
one bound, and his paw was on her back,

‘*Oh!?? screamed Mrs. Wackins. ‘‘Merci-
ful Heaven preserve us! My child is in the
lion’s jaws!’’

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

Why not, Mr. Phunny-

 

     
S

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

Campaigning With Braddock:

OR,

FIGHTING ALLIED FOES,

A TALE OF COLONIAL DAYS.

_ an

BY WILLIAM MURRAY GRAYDON,
Author of The Lost Opal of Mysore,” *‘In Bar-
racks and Wigwam,” “The White King
of Africa,” etc.

(“CAMPAIGNING WITH BRADDOCK”’ was commenced
in No. 309. Back numbers can be obtained of all
News Agents.)

CHAPTER XXXIV.
IN WHICH SEVERAL MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEAR-
ANCES ARE CHRONICLED.
mmr
—TAHE two lads rode on ata trot, and

1 Pr soon after passing the Fairfax Arms

“L'\ they met an elderly and distinguished-
“> looking officer, who checked his horse
in front of them.

‘*You are expected at headquarters, Master
Ludlow,’’ he said, and as he spoke he eyed
Roger with some interest,

‘*T am going straight there, sir,’’ Herbert
replied. ‘‘May I ask if the convention is
over?”’

‘‘Yes,’’ was the reply, ‘‘it broke up but a
few minutes ago.’’

‘*And what decision was reached, Colonel
Burton? Pray pardon me, sir, if the question
is improper——’’

‘The result has already been publicly an-
nounced,’’ the officer answered. ‘‘As no
open state of war exists, the convention re-
solved not to invade Canada, but to repel
the French on their western and northern
frontiers. The plans of four campaigns were
discussed and ratified. The governor of
Nova Scotia is to define and hold our boun-
daries in that province. Johnson of New
York is to raise a force and take the French
post at Crown Point, while Shirely of Mas-
sachusetts is to drive the enemy from Niag-
ara. But what will interest you most is the
news that General Braddock is to march
with as little delay as possible against Fort
Du Quesne, and expel the French from the
Ohio valley.’’ ,

‘That is indeed glorious news!’’ exclaimed
Herbert, his face beaming with delight.
‘*Thank you, sir!’’

‘*You are welcome, Master Ludlow,’’ was

the reply; and Colonel Burton spurred on
his way.
. The lads rode forward, talking eagerly of
what they had just heard; for the news was
as satisfactory to one as to the other. They
had gone but a short distance through the
crowded and noisy town when they came
to the encampment of the colonial troops,
and now Roger was at once discovered and
surrounded by his friends. Captain Trent
wes among the number, and there were tear's
in his eyes as he tightly gripped the lad’s
hand. Red Moose was close behind him.

‘‘How do, Roger?’? he said, with more
emotion than he had ever been known to
show before.

‘*You seem to be a favorite in the com-
pany,’’ Herbert said, laughingly. ‘‘You
won’t get one from these fellows in a
hurry, so I think I’ll leave you behind and
push on to headquarters. But follow as soon
as you can, for General Braddock will want
to see you.”’

Roger had reasons for not wishing to go
straight to headquarters.

‘All right,’’? he answered, gratefully.
‘<T’ll be there in a few minutes.’’

Herbert waved his hand and rode off, leav-
ing his companion in the midst of the clam-
orous and delighted crowd. The honest fel-
lows welcomed him as one from the dead, and
for atime Roger was kept busy answering
questions relating to his escape. Then Cap-
tain Trent foune an opportunity to lead the
lad and his horse to a quiet spot in the rear
of the camp, where he listened with thought-
ful interest to the whole story of the pre-
vious night’s adventure.

‘There are reasons why I’d like to have
heard this before,’’ the captain said, ‘‘but
it’s no use to talk of that now. I mustn’t
keep you long, since Braddock wants to see

‘you. You’d better tell him as little as possi-
ble of what happened on the ship.’’

‘*T*ll tell him no more than I can _ help,’
assured Roger.

‘And this young Ludlow—how much does
he know?”

‘*Only part of the story,’’ replied Roger,
‘*but he can be trusted——”’

‘Perhaps he can,’’ interrupted the cap-
tain, ‘‘and I’ll admit he has a good face,
But there’s high and powerful influence con-
cerned in this matter now, and if the mys-
very is to be cleared up it’s got to be done
by craft, and between you and me. Remem-
ber that, lad.’? -

‘*T will,’’ promised Roger; and after some
further conversation, he rode off.

Captain Trent watched him out of sight,
and then hastened in search of the Mingo.
During the rest of the afternoon the second
officer was in command of the company, and

CGrooDp

 

it was supper time when the captain re-
turned. After a hurried meal he repaired to
his tent, where he was presently joined by
Red Moose. Half an hour later, when night
| had fallen, and both were beginning to feel
| worried about Roger, the lad appeared at
the entrance of the tent.

‘‘T’m sorry 1 stayed so long,’’ he said,
‘‘but I couldn’t help it. 1 was detained by
General Braddock, and then Herbert Ludlow
made me take supper with him.’?

‘‘Were you at headquarters when Sir
Rawdon Marriott entered an hour ago?’’
asked Captain Trent, as he gave the lad a
seat.

‘*[ saw him come in, but he did not see
me. I was ina room at the far end of the
hall.’?

‘¢And did you see anything of this David
Kirk???

exclaimed Roger. ‘‘ Herbert tells me that he
sailed for England at noon to-day on the
merchant ship Greenwich, because he needed
the sea voyage to recover from the effects of
his captivity among the French.’’

‘‘ Ah, you heard that?’’ said the captain.
‘“Well, we’ll talk of it later. And now what
happened between you and General Brad-
dock?”?

‘‘Not very much,’’ replied Roger. ‘‘He
questioned me so closely that I had to tell
him the truth—that I had been pitched over-
board from the Surrey Queen. He said he
had heard that I suspected David Kirk, and
that I had accused him of being a man
named Martin Pring. I admitted that——’’

‘‘And did Braddock ask you who Martin
Pring was?’’

‘‘No; but he asked me if I was sure that
David Kirk and Martin Pring were the same.
I said I was, and then Braddock got angry.
He said I was a young fool, and had trumped
up the whole story to hide my clumsiness in
falling overboard. He declared that he knew
all about the man, and that Sir Rawdon
Marriott had vouched for him and explained
his presence on the ship. I had hard work
to keep my temper, and I said as little as
possible. It ended in my being curtly dis-
missed, and I don’t think General Braddock
will put another chance to serve him in m
way. I’m glad of it, for I would rather bite
to my own company.’’

‘*General Braddock heap big liar!’’ mut-
tered Red Moose.

‘‘T rather think Sir Rawdon Marriott is
that,’ declared the captain, ‘‘for it is plain
that he has been posting the general. And
now, lad, I’ll tell my yarn. Day before yes-
terday, after you left me to go down the
river, | started the Mingo in search of David
Kirk. But he failed to get on the track of
him, and that fell to your lot instead. There
matters rested till you returned this after-
noon. Then, while you were at headquarters,
I set the Mingo to spying Sir Rawdon Mar-
riott, thinking he might have an appoint-
ment somewhere with David Kirk. Mean-
while, I started myself to hunt up Kirk,
and it wasn’t very long till I heard that he
had sailed for England. 1 learned that such
a name was certainly on the passenger list
of the Greenwich, and from the ease with
which I got the information, I concluded
that pains had been taken to make it known
in the town.

‘“There was nothing more to learn here,
so I set out for Sam Bagshot’s cabin. But
the man was gone, taking his traps with
him, and I couldn’t get any trace of his
whereabouts. So then I returned to camp,
and presently Red Moose came in with his
report—which was simply that Sir Rawdou
Marriott had spent most of the afternoon at
the Fairfax Arms, carousing with his fellow
officers.’

‘*And do you believe that David Kirk
really sailed on the Greenwich?’’ asked
Roger.

‘‘Do you believe that David Kirk is Mar-
tin Pring?’’ the captain inquired, evasively.

‘*Yes,’? exclaimed Roger. ‘‘The time for
doubting is past. I caii swear that Kirk is
Martin Pring.’’

‘‘And I am just as sure of it, lad,’’ de-
clared Trent. ‘‘This is a deep and a puzzling
mystery at bottom, but some parts of it are
plain, As to why Sir Rawdon Marriott hates
you—why, that’s not to be reckoned with
now. But hate you he does, lad, and it was
he who sent Pring over here months ago to
kill you and your Uncle Giles. Then he
came himself to learn what had become of
Pring, joining General Braddock’s staff as
an excuse,’’

‘*And do you think he put Pring up to
choking me on the Surrey Queen?’’

nal, perhaps, so young Ludlow wouldn’t un-
derstand, Then, when the news came this
morning that you were alive, Sir Rawdon
hastily fixed things with Braddock, and
gave out that David Kirk had sailed for
England. I’ve no doubt some one sailed on
the Greenwich under that name, but it was
not Kirk.’’

‘‘Just what I think,’’ exclaimed Roger.
**T?l] have to be on the lookout more than
ever now.’’

‘‘Ay, that’s true,’’ assented Trent, ‘‘for
these two ruffians hope to make you an easy
victim by quieting jour suspicions. But
they’ve got myself and Red Moose to reckon
with, and we’ll match craft with craft.’’

 

‘‘Tf Martin Pring here yet, me find him,’?’
the Mingo grunted, confidently.

‘*No, but I learned something about him,’’ |

‘*T dare say he did—gave him a quiet sig- |

 

NEWS.

 

‘I’ve no doubt you will,’’ declared Trent.
‘*So don’t worry, lad. As long as we remain
in Alexandria—which won’t be more than a
week or ten days at the most—the three of
us will keep our eyes open for Kirk and Sir
Rawdon. After the march begins to Fort
Du Quesne there’ll be only Sir Rawdon to
watch—for Kirk won’t dare to accompany
the expedition.’’ *

‘‘1’m not afraid,’? said Roger. ‘‘It’s not
that. But I want to know why Sir Rawdon
had my uncle murdered, and why he is try-
ing to. kill me.’’

‘Ay, that’s the mystery,’’ replied the
captain, ‘‘but we'll get to the bottom of it,

jlad. If the truth don’t come out during the
| expedition we’ll wait till we come back from

licking the French. Then we’ll discover Sir
Rawdon’s secret, if we have to follow him
across the sea,’

‘¢And there I shall most likely find what
I am seeking,’’ exclaimed Roger, ‘‘if I fail
to find it here. England is the place to
search for the mystery of my early life. I
shall never rest until I know all—until I have
punished Sir Rawdon Marriott and Martin
Pring for the foul murder of my uncle,
and for the sufferings they have caused
me.”’

‘‘Amen to that,’’? replied Trent. ‘‘I’ll
stand by you, lad.’’

‘‘Me help, too, Roger,’’ muttered Red
Moose,

CHAPTER XXXV.

IN WHICH ROGER SEES THE COMMENCEMENT
OF THE BATTLE.
Ca URING the ten days following the
ss) convention of the governors there
é was more excitement and bustle than
ever in the town. Messengers rode to
and fro, farmers and contractors were kept
busy bringing in supplies; teams and horses
filled the inn yards; the regular troops par-
aded daily, and the provincials were drilled
from morning till night. Nevertheless,
Roger and his friends found time to think of
other matters than the expedition, and they
kept their eyes open, prowling about in all
sorts of places in their spare moments. But
in spite of the earnest efforts of Captain
Trent and Red Moose, of the lad himself,
nothing was learned, Sam Bagshot had dis-
appeared utterly, and no trace could be
found of David Kirk. Sir Rawdon® Marri
ott’s movements were watched, but that
gentleman proved too wary to give his ene-
mies any clew. Herbert Ludlow and Roger
remained good friends, but on the few occa-
sions when they met, their conversation was
limited to the prospects of the coming cam-
paign.

In the latter part of April, to the great
relief of the people of Alexandria, General
Braddock set out on his march to Fort Du
Quesne. His force consisted of nearly two
thousand regular troops, and a few com-
panies of provincials, the latter being un-
der the command of Colonel Horatio Gates.
The English general had fought on European
battlefields, and was accustomed to march-
ing on good roads. He knew nothing of the
American wilderness, and scorned advice,
So the army made scarcely five miles a day,
and they would have made even less had not
Benjamin Franklin obtained wagons’ and
horses from the Pennsylvania farmers.

It was about the end of .May when Will’s
Creek was reached. A military post had
been established here, and the name was
changed to Fort Cumberland. At this place
Colonel George Washington met the army
and became an aide-de-camp to Braddock—a
piece of news which gave great pleasure to
the provincials. That Washington had con-
sented to overlook the affronts he bad re-
ceived was due to patriotic motives, for he
knew that his country needed him in the
field at such a ‘time.

From Fort Cumberland the advance was | Q

begun on the first day of May, a force of
five hundred men being sent forward to
open the roads. These were commanded
by Sir Peter Halkett, and Braddock fol-
lowed with the main army, which stretched
in a slender column for miles along a narrow
and broken path. This exposed them to
great danger from scouting parties of the
enemy, but Braddock believed that savages
could make no impression on his majesty’s
regulars, and refused to listen to advice.
Several times Washington persisted in warn-
ing him, and for his pains the daring young
Virginian had to submit to much bitter and
violent language.

But the enemy did not appear, and the
march went slowly on for week after week.
May ended, and the long June days had
come. The'men were all\in good spirits, and
confidently expected a victory that would
settle the supremacy of the Ohio valley. At
night Roger sat. around the campfire with
Captain Trent and Red Moose—for the
Mingo and several other scouts of his tribe
were attached to the column. The thought
of Martin Pring troubled the lad but seldom
now, and he was almost persuaded that the
ruffian had actually gone back to England.
If he was with the expedition—and that was
far from impossible—there was no way to
ascertain the fact. The army stretched for
miles by day and night, and the provincial
troops.were so far in the rear that Roger
had not seen either Herbert Ludlow or Sir

 

Rawdon Marriott for weeks. But Captain
Trent and Red Moose had suspicions of their
own, and, without the lad’s knowledge, they
were constantly on the alert to guard him
from peril.

On the nineteenth of June Colonel Dunbar
was left to follow leisurely with half of the
force, while Braddock put himself at the
head of twelve hundred chosen men, and
pushed forward more rapidly. With him
were most of hisstaff, including Sir Rawdon
Marriott, Colonel Washington, and Herbert
Ludlow. Of the troops, three hundred were

rovincials under Colonel Gates. Captain
[rent’s company were with them, and also
the Mingo scouts. They were well armed,
and had several pieces of cannon,

From this time on Roger frequently saw
Sir Rawdon Marriott at close quarters, but
no sign of recognition was made by either.
Herbert Ludlow was constantly riding +0
and fro along the line, and whenever he
found an opportunity he would stop to chat
with Roger or Captain Trent.

Day by day the advance column pushed
forward, and at last the end of the long and
weary march drew near. On the night of the
seventh of July the English encamped on
the Monongahela, within twelve miles of
Fort Du Quesne.

And now, just a word about the French
at this time. For them the prospect looked
black indeed. Though they had been gath-
ering reinforcements at the fort for months
past, the garrison was as yet far from strong
enough to cope with Braddock’s army:
Even the Indians seemed to understand this
fact, and were reluctant to fight. But oP
the night of the seventh of July, knowimgs
that the only hope lay in striking a blow
before the siege began, the French com-
mandant with great difficulty persuaded the
savages to join him in an attempt to am
buscade the enemy. So, on the next_morl-
ing, they set out from Fort Du Quesne
nearly seven hundred Indians, and a force
of two hundred and forty French soldiers
under Beaujean and umas. Their 1D-
tention was rather to annoy and harrass the
English than to engage them ina genera
battle.

The eighth of July dawned warm and |

clear, and never had the Pennsylvania wil-
derness looked more beautiful. At an early
hour Braddock’s army was on the march,
and before noon they crossed to the norther?
bank of the Monongahela near Turtle Creek,
at a point Jess than ten miles from Fort ey
Quesne. Passing over some level grouve,
they advanced up a gentle slope. The an
was but twelve feet wide, and the surroun’”
ing country was uneven and woody.
both sides were great rocks and loose stones,
dense undergrowth and thick timber. hb
lay on the right, andion the left was a deePs
dark ravine. :

The column moved proudly and briskly os
with drums beating, trumpets blaring; a
banners waving in the air. Thesun glittere
on red uniforms, on flashing gun barrels oa
bayonets. There was no thought of dangé
General Braddock was advancing to attac™
and the possibility of being attacked hin
was far trom his arrogant mind. ae

Colonel Gates and his three hundred Bt
vincials led the way. Captain Trent wa in
the head of his company, and Roger wa®
the first file. Red Moose, musket in bant
was creeping along the edge of the ravint
the left. Next to the provincials rode Bitte
dock and _ his staff, Herbert Ludlow ®

bright with anticipation of a victorys Me.

Sir Rawdon Marriott looking as thous
had not a care in the world. the
Behind the commander and his officers tay
regulars of England marched with ste ag?
step, followed by the artillery and the
age.
PGs they went to the beating of dram
deeper and deeper into the dark and pees i,
wilderness that lay on all sides of the .
ivery step brought them nearer to For
uesne.
Suddenly, on trotting his horse
bend of the road, Colonel Horatio n bis
tered a loud cry, and tugged hard © oved
bridle. The ranks of the provincials 4
dn a little and halted. A startling feet
expected sight met their eyes. 7! hoke
ahead the narrow road seemed to pi rmed
with painted savages and gaily uo be-
French soldiers. They had been surprs’” ad
fore they could form their ambusca’>
at first’ they seemed inclined to fal
But with a ringing shovt, an office® ay,
himself to the front—a handsome ith sil-
wearing a gray hunting frock, and W
ver medals glittering on his bosom. ing £0
‘*Look!’? cried Roger; ‘‘they are 8°
attack us!’? ncolty.. 18
‘And yonder is Beaujean hims®, tined
commander of Fort Du Quesne!’’ &*¢
Captain Trent. nd: the
‘The excitement was now intense, pa was
news that the enemy were 10 os the year
spreading with great uproar towar
of the column, Colon?
“Stand firm, men!”? | shou
Gates. ‘‘Make ready to fire der;
At that instant the French commen vid
Beaujean, waved his hat and Bay om the
order. Bang! bang! bang! bang ! jurking
clustered foes in the road, and from ea tert,
savages behind trees and rocks ea
fie storm of bullets. Red ia <a Oh
through the powder smoke, an”
agony mingled with yells of triumP

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CHAPTER XXXVI.

IN WHICH A MYSTERIOUS SHOT IS FIRED.

=)

melted away, Captain Trent and

Roger being among the few who es-

Caped injury. But at the loud command of
Colonel Gates the broken ranks closed up in-
Stantly, advanced a little over the dead and
dying, and poured a rattling volley into the
enemy. Beaujean himself fell, and nearly a
score of his men with him; but another offi-
cer dashed to the front, and both forces held
their ground in the face of deadly fusillades.
Gates’ artillerymen now came Up with two
pieces of cannon. These were wheeled into
position and hurriedly discharged. The tre-
mendous roar and the crash of the balls so

““y NDER that first deadly fire the head
Wy of the column of provincials fairly

frightened the Indians that they started to

run; but their panic was checked when they
Saw the French standing still, and they came
back, yelling the warwhoop.

By this time Colonel Burton had arrived
With a part of the regulars, and these trained
Soldiers of Europe marched confidently to
the front.

‘*Hurrah for King George!’’ they shouted ;
and the Virginians eagerly caught up the
ery.

** Vive le
enemy.

French and Indians’ redoubled their fire,
Spreading to right and left; and so thick and
fat 1 was the storm of bullets that the regu-
lars broke ranks in confusion.

General Braddock dashed here and there
On horseback, swearing like a madman as
he tried to rally his men. With all his faults,
he.was brave and gallant, and exposed him-
Self recklessly to danger. Two horses were
Shot under him, and he at once mounted
fresh steeds that his officers brought him.

ut he persisted in fighting according to
European methods, and thundered orders to
his regulars to form in platoons and battal-
lons—which, under the circumstances, was
inexcusable folly.

The panic-stricken soldiers, attempting to
Obey, presented fair marks to the enemy.
They huddled like sheep along the road,
Oading and firing at random. They saw
Tuddy flashes and puffs of smoke, but few
Of the enemy. The bullets poured from
8very rock and tree, and the red-coated men
4nd officers fell like leaves in a storm.

Since the opening volley of the battle the
Virginians had suffered but slight losses.

Ccustomed to Indian warfare in the wil-

®rness, they threw themselves flat on the
8round, or behind stones and trees, and
Watched their chances to fire at the peeping

®ads of Frenchmen and savages. Red Moose
4nd the other scouts joined them, whooping
efiance to the redskins from Canada.
Genera! Braddock, seeing the tactics of the
Provincials, spurred his horse into the midst
them, trampling two men under the hoofs
on narrowly missing Roger.
‘Stand up, you cowardly dogs!’’ he cried,
§Ngrily. ‘‘This is no way to fight! Stand up
4nd face the enemy! form in platoons——”’
Crash! down went the general’s horse,
Shot through the head. He rose to his feet
Unhurt, and hurried to obtain a fresh ste«ed.
‘ ere was plenty of work for him in the
He tan he did not return to interfere with
® Virginians.
m t was now long past noon, but the fight
oe steadily on. The provincials had lost
k ir commander, Colonel Gates having been
Teaied wounded from the field. But Captain
eat and other officers filled his place, and
; ® little band obstinately held their position

the front of the column. Surrounded by
> ela and dying, they fought on, crawling
aoe cover to cover, and firing at the heads

i the ambushed foe. Red Moose and Roger
th, behind the same rock, and every shot

at came from that quarter told.
rane along the line General Braddock was
ino 8 from place to place, shouting, swear-
ton at his men, and vainly urging them to
Min platoons. Dead bodies cumbered the

roi! vive le roi!’’ yelled the

aca, and the wounded were shrieking with
a: Horses with empty saddles dashed

at Nay there, some dragging their riders
Madi ®ir heels. Officers and aides spurred
Ofte Y through the ranks, their red coats
Ting a shining mark to the foe.

ened. deadly fire of the enemy never slack-
hes; In all directions the forest rang with
buses of the French and Indians. The
the «¢8 poured from the hill on the left, from
I froubered edge of the ravine on the right.
flash ont, and far along both flanks the red

Sai blazed and the jets of smoke spurted,
and ®r and faster fell the British regulars,
fereq they stood waiting to be slaugh-
legs. heir muskets were as good as use-
»Slnce they could see no foes to shoot at.

hearg neervals a dull sound of firing could be
icky m

he rear, and what this meant was
made known to the head of the col-
Ward Colonel Washington came riding for-
Up to 72% foam-splashed horse, and dashed
co Braddock, ;

Shemy ras” he cried, ‘‘a portion of the
the He ‘Ave outflanked us, and have attacked
Bags we The Indians are shooting the bag-
Whole 1205 and the drivers have fled. The
Will be ine is now engaged, and the fight

: lost. un is
Uforentiy. 9» less you dispose of your men

at

tok do you mean, sir?’? demanded

“Don’t presume to dictate to

 

GoondD NEWS.

  

Te

 

. anid :
me! These soldiers have won battles in| former were mounted, they had little chance

Europe——’’

‘‘That is different, general,’’ interrupted
Washington. ‘‘Our only chance is to fight
as the French and Indians are doing—to
scatter and take to cover like yonder Virgin-
ians in front. I pray you listen to reason
before it is too late——’’

‘*‘Hnough, sir!’ cried Braddock. ‘‘ Let me
have no more insolence! I will conduct the
battle in my own way. His majesty’s regu-
lars are not the men to crawl on the ground
like your provincial poltroons.’’

It was useless to argue with the arrogant
and self-willed commander, and Washington
rode away in despair. Other officers who
offered similar advice met with the same
rebuff. The slaughter continued without ces-
sation, the enemy growing bolder and bolder.
All along the line the panic-stricken and
dazed regulars, compelled to stand up in
ranks, fell by scores befure the fire of the
ambushed marksmen.

That the battle Jasted as long as it did
was mainly due to the Virginians at the head
of the column, and their very gallantry was
the cause of a loss greater than was inflicted
on them by the enemy. For as they made a
dash to an advanced position on the left of
the road, the dazed regulars in the rear mis-
took them for French soldiers, and poured
two terrible volleys into them at close range.
Before the mistake was discovered more than
fifty of the luckless fellows had fallen dead,
and as maby more wounded.

The anger of the survivors was furious,
and had ‘not several officers interfered and
thrown themselves between the two parties,
the regulars would have received a volley in
return. So, with savage threats of vengeance
at a better time, the Virginians, now re-
duced to less than seventy men, pushed
across the road. Led by Captains Trent and
Waggener, they gained the desired position
—a fallen tree of large size and bushy
branches, with rock and timber at both ends.
Crouching low behind this, they fired volley
after volley at the now visible enemy in
front, and quickly drove them to shelter.

‘*Keep low, men,’’ cried Captain Trent.
‘*‘We won’t be driven from this place in a
hurry. Watch for the heads, and aim well
when you fire.”’

Roger was close by, near the end of the
tree. In spite of the terrible scenes he had
witnessed, and thé constant peril from flying
bullets, he was cool and self-possessed. He
loaded and fired like an old soldier, shifting
the is breech of his musket from hand to
hand.

A man two feet in front of him uttered a
loud cry, and fell dead, with blood spurting
from his mouth. He was a friend of Roger,
and the lad had noted the direction whence
the shot came. He watched vengefully till
he saw a featbered head peeping from behind
a clump of bushes. Bang! An Indian sprang
in air, and fell back in his death agonies.

‘*Good shot, Roger!’’ muttered Red Moose,
who was alongside of the lad. ‘‘Now my
turn.’?

As he spoke he drew a bead ona white
face that was looking around an oak tree
twenty feet away, and with the crack of the
Mingo’s rifle there was one Frenchman the
less.

The bushes behind Roger rustled, and the
next instant he was tapped on the shoulder.
He looked up to see Herbért Ludlow. ’

‘*You here???’ he exclaimed, in amaze-
ment.

‘*Yes, this is the only right way to fight,’’
replied Herbert, as he crouched down beside
his friend. ‘‘I took the gun from a dead sol-
dier, and came to join you. It’s awful the
way things are going back there—the men
dying by scores, and the officers falling from
their horses. I don’t see much chance for
us——’?

“‘Tt’s your general’s fault,’’ interrupted
Roger.

‘*T know that,’’ Herbert assented, sadly.
“The regulars ought to fight as your men
are doing. The whole line is engaged from
front to rear, and the battle is as good as
lost.’?

‘‘There’s a chance yet, if Braddock will
order the troops to cover.’’

‘*He won’t do that,’’? said Herbert. ‘‘He’s
still trying to form them in platoons. Well,
if it’s got to be, I’d rather die fighting here
than stand up in the open road to be shot at.”?

The above conversation had been carried
on with great difficulty amid the noise and
confusion, and now the increasing fire of the
enemy put a stop to it. Lying side by side
behind the tree, the two lads and the Mingo
kept picking off the incautious French and
Indians. Not a bullet touched them, though
many of the Virginians close to them were
killed or wounded. Captain Trent seemed
also to bear a charmed life, and his voice
was continually heard above the din of battle.

All through the hot July afternoon the
fight—or, rather, the butchery—lasted. At
the head of the column the Virginians con-
tinued to oppose the foe with stubborn per-
sistence, but back along the line, the red-
coated soldiers of King George steadily
dwindled in numbers. Huddled in scared

groups and broken ranks on the narrow and
exposed road, they steadily wasted their
ammunition, catching sight of a Frenchman
or an Indian only at rareintervals. The dead
lay thick along the edges of the forest.

The cunning foé took pains to aim at the
officers rather than the men, and since the

 

of escaping the deadly fire. Sir Peter Hal-
kett, the second in command, was killed, as
were also Braddock’s secretary and many
other officers. Colonel Burton, Major Spark,
Major Halkett and Captain Morris were se-
verely wounded.

No less than five horses were shot under
General Braddock, but the misguided man
continued to direct his troops with more zeal
than wisdom. Though repeatedly singled out
for death by the Indian marksmen, Colonel
Washington escaped as by a miracle. He lost
two mounts, and four bullets pierced his
clothing.

By five o’clock in the evening all hope of
an effectual resistance was gone. The enemy
were pressing from every side, and the Brit-
ish dead and wounded numbered almost as
many as the living. Out of eighty-two offi-
cers, twenty-six had been killed and thirty-
seven disabled. Six hundred bodies of regu-
lars and Virginians lay on the ground.

Suddenly a ball struek Braddock while he
was issuing an order. He fell to the road,
pale and bleeding, and Washington hastened
to his assistance.

‘“Where are you hit?’’ he demanded, anx-
iously.

“In the side—it is a mortal wound,’’
Braddock whispered, faintly. ‘‘What are we
to do now, colonel?”’

‘‘Retreat, sir—retreat, by all means,’’
Washington replied.

But the retreat had already begun without
orders. The rumor that Braddock was killed
spread right and left, and the regulars, tos-
sing away their guns and knapsacks,.fled
like a horde of frightened sheep. In vain
Washington and the other officers tried to
stop them; in vain they begged and threat-
ened.

‘“Your general is not dead,’’ shouted
Colonel Orme. ‘‘Don’t leave him to be
scalped! Sixty guineas if you carry him
off !”’

But the panic-stricken men never stopped,
thinking only of escape. On they went as
fast as they could run, stumbling over the
dead and dying, and leaving a trail of
equipments behind them. Captain Stewart
and Washington followed, carrying Brad-
dock in their arms.

On learning what was taking place, and
knowing that to remain in position meant
certain death, Captain Trent ordered the
Virginians to protect the rear of the flying
column. The brave little band started up,
and with a volley at the foe in front, they
fell back in good order.

At every few yards they stopped to fire,
taking advantage of what cover was possi-
ble. Bullets whistled around them, striking
down man after man. Crack! went Roger’s
musket, and an Indian fell. Herbert and
Red Moose were shooting to right and left of
him.

Thus they pushed on to the rear, and to
their great relief, the fire of the enemy be-
gan to slacken. Up the road in front the
French and Indians could be seen swarming
among the British dead; either they were
content with their victory, or they were too
greedy for plunder to pursue the fugitives.

The Virginians straggled down the slope,
gathering up.wounded men here and _ there,
and firing occasional shots at foes lurking
under cover. At last they reached a place
where the ravine on the one side of the road
was too steep to give the enemy a footing.
The other side was a densely wooded hill,
and here a number of ambushed Indians
were firing at two badly demoralized com-
panies of British regulars below them. More
redskins were farther down at a sharp bend
of the road, and thus the bullets were com-
ing from front and flank. The men were
huddled in a group, not knowing which way
to turn, and a mounted officer was trying
to rally them and ‘lead them past the danger
point.

‘‘We must stop this slaughter!’’ cried
Captain Trent. . ‘‘ Drive the redskins off the
hill, my brave fellows! At them now!’’

The command was instantly obeyed. With
hearty cheers, part of the Virginians plunged
into the woods on the right, and another
force, pushing through the scared regulars,
swarmed up the slope at the turn of ‘the
road.

With the second party went Captain Trent
himself, and among his followers were Red
Moose, Herbert Ludlow, and Roger. The lat-
ter tripped on one of the dead bodies in the
path and fell heavily. As he rose to his feet,
and was about to dash after his companions,
he beard the report of a gun, and saw the
mounted officer and his horse go down to-
gether. The shot had come from the steep
brink of the ravine, where instantly ap-
peared a hideously painted Indian, with his
smoking musket in one,hand and a toma-
hawk in the other. With\ja yell of triumph,
he sprang toward the officer, who was bim-
self unhurt, but was pinned to the ground by
his wounded horse. :

‘‘Help! help!’? he cried, with an appeal-
ing glance at Roger, who was nearer to him
than any of the regulars.

The lad was quick to respond. He lifted
his musket to his shoulder, took a keen aim,
and fired. The redskin was in the act of
sinking the tomahawk in the man’s skull,
but as the report rang out be fell backward,
flopped convulsively to the edge of the ra-
vine, and shot out of sight.

Roger hastened to the officer, who had by

 

this time extricated himself from the fallen
horse, and the lad’s feelings as he recognized
Sir Rawdop Marriott may be better imagined
than descrjbed. It was as great a shock to
Sir Rawdon, to judge from his agitated feat-
ures.

‘‘You--you saved my life,’’ he said,
hoarsely. ‘‘How can I thank you?’?

‘‘It was nothing,’’ Roger curtly replied.
‘*“Your men need you, sir. Don’t delay, but
get them past the ambush while you havea
chance.’’

‘*Yes, you are right,’’ assented Sir Raw-
don, with a glance around.

He was about to say more, but changed
his mind, and hurried off to put himself at
the head of the regulars. The latter, taking
advantage of the attack on the savages by
the Virginians, were in hot flight down the
road.

Roger’s first impulse was to push after his
companions, but a desire to learn what had
become of the Indian drew him to the edge
of the ravine. Looking down the steep slope,
which was covered with saplings and clumps
of bushes, he saw the redskin lying dead on
a jutting ledge three feet below. He was
about to turn back when a musket cracked
behind him, and with the report, his cap
went spinning off his head. He lost his bal-
ance, clutched at the air, and then pitched
heavily over the brink of the slope.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)
———_~>_+»._—___

Foiled.

 

ia

(AS PARTY of gentlemen went on a
Wo\? sporting expedition not long back,
\A taking with them several valuable,
~~ well-trained dogs.

The owner of a splendid retriever shot at
and wounded a duck on the northern bank
of a stream, which was about eighty yards
wide.

The duck fell into some weeds on the op-
posite side, and the dog went after but could
not find it.

The animal had only left the farther bank
on his return, when suddenly the snout of
an alligator rose above the water. The sau-
rian gave chase, while the gentleman loudly
called the dog. The animal seemed to realize
his peril, and yelped while the alligator
forged ahead. The cries of the party were
continuous, aud the dog swam his best. The
alligator did not dip one moment, but kept
his eyes fastened upon the dog. Not an inch
seemed to be lost or gained by either. The
race was matchless, The alligator attempted
occasional spurts, making the water rush by
in a snowy foam, and the dog, evidently
equal to the emergency, would lay his ears
back and speed along with astunishing swift-
ness.

The middle of the stream was reached, and
the distance between the pursuer and the
pursued remained the same. The sportsmen
began to fear that the dog would give in be-
fore they could get an effective shot at its
pursuer.

In the circumstances they could not fire
for fear of killing the dog; besides, having
only duck shot instead of ball, their chances
of inflicting any damage upon the reptile,
were few.

The retriever swam anxiously, excitedly—
fixing his eyes upun the group of men and
the low shore.

Only about thirty yards more, and if all
went well, the dog would be safe.

The alligator changed his tactics. He
would dip his snout slightly under the water,
and ina wriggling way would make aston-
ishing spurts, but did not seem to decrease
the distance. After each spurt the alligator
seemed to lose a little ground, but very lit-

    

tle. At fifteen yards from the bank the size

of the monster could be estimated.

He was more than nine feet in length.
Every atom of energy was exercised by
both. Cries rang out from the men,

The excitement began to grow intense—the
alligator was gaining. The brute did not no-
tice the anxious spectators on the shore.

Suddenly a report was heard. It was a
shot at the alligator from a fowling piece.

Heedless of the noise, the contestants in
the race kept on. Only a few feet and the
dog would be a victim!

In vain did the retriever try to lengtben
the distance—to no purpose.

The alligator was now gaining inch by
inch. The dog was becoming inspired possi-
bly with too much fear, for he made several
piteous appeals for help. Seven yards nearer
the bank, seven yards from the goal of hope
and life for the dog, and still the race was
going on with grim determination. Every
hunter had his fowling piece ready to dis-
charge at the alligator as soon as he could
do it safely.

The dog touched the sloping, water-cov-
ered bank of the stream, and, with a wild
cry of delight from the sportsmen anda
yelp of joy from the dog, was soon bounding
on the shore.

The determination of the alligator was so
great that he stranded on the bank, but he
rested there only for a moment.

Several charges of shut were poured into
him in a volley.

He turned quickly, and, with a spring,
lashed the deeper water, and dived into the
depths of the stream.

  
 
 

    
 

Sone ey
©

pRST- STORIES Font Evan OUARTEN’
ISSUED WEEKLY.

NEW YORK, JUNE 20, 1896.

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Contents of this Number.
SERIAL STORIES.

“Ned Purcell, the Boy. Engineer,” by Har-
vey Hicks.

“The Valley of Mystery,” by Enrique H.
Lewis.

“Cavalier and Roundhead,” by Alfred Ar-
mitage.

“Lad Electric,” by Barry Tallyho,

“Gay Dashleigh in Cuba,” by Arthur Se-
wall.

“Campaigning With Braddock,” by Wil-
liam Murray Graydon.

SHORT STORIES.

‘“‘A Ten Hours’ Saw Through Bay Ice,” by
Arthur F. Paterson.

“Wang Tai and His Black Pearl,” by Ar-
thur J. Daniels.

“The Big Fight at Oliver's,” by T. 0.
Strange.

REGULAR DEPARTMENT'S.

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

“How to Do Things,” by David Parks.

“Our Stamp Album.”

“Mail Bag,” ‘Iixchange
“Club Notices,’ ete.

NEXT WEEK.

A fine story of summer sports by an
author who is new to the columns of Goop
News, but who we firmly believe is bound
to become a prime favorite with our readers.

KING OF BIKE AND BAT;

OR,

Jack Seabrooke’s Run of Luck.
BY
HORACE G. CLAY.

Department,”

 

 

 

 

 

 

We also begin in the next issue a new
comic serial, one of the funniest we have
ever published.

REMEMBER THIS FACT, BOYS !
William Murray Graydon,
Enrique H. Lewis,
Harry Dangerfield,
Arthur Sewall,
Lieut. Lionel Lounsberry,
Harvey Hicks,
r and
; Alfred Armitage,
all write mxciustvery for the King of
Boys’ Weeklies.

CHOOT

A TEN HOURS’ SAW THROUGH BAY ICE

—— +

BY ARTHUR F. PATERSON.

-

J
(4=~ AY ice is an arctic term. I may ex-
W—< plain, first, that it is formed during
the shortening nights of spring, and
being found in wide sheets is one of
the most serious obstacles to early whaling.

For some hours of April 25, we, in com-
| pany with a sister ship, the Kelipse, had been
jsteaming through large fields of this bay
variety. In.the most part the sheet did not
exceed two inches. And so far, following in
the wake of our more powerful companion,
we had pushed many miles forward success-
fully.

But, as we continued, the ice-coat thick-
ened, and ou occasions held the Eclipse, re-
quiring her to back astern and get more
way on.

We, of course, made free of her path, and
took life easy.

But it happened that we, at one time, also
received a check, and found it necessary to
go astern and charge.

The obstruction was slight, and the extra
speed cleared us at once, yet there was
some time lost, the result of which was that,
as there was a strong pressure from the out-
side on the field, the wake of the Eclipse
closed un firmly, ere we could recover our
distance, and after a few fiercely determined
charges, we found ourselves stuck . fast,
neither able to proceed ahead nor astern,

A nice pickle! Yet the ‘more chagrined
were we, that the open water we had been
making for lay. now scarce two hundred
yards before us, blue and enticing.

We collected on the forepeak, and as sullen
a crew, sixty in all, as you might wish to see
anywhere.

Our captain signaled to the Eclipse that
we were fast, and some of the men thought
she would come back and help us.

The captain most certainly did.

But nothing of the sort.

On she steamed, without a signal in re-
turn, and disappeared in a dull haze of her
own smoke, and followed by a double strong
volley of foc’sle abuse.

The captain, with all hope of succor by
the Eclipse gone, bestirs himself. It seems
that, although the ice is nut more than six
inches thick, it is quite sufficient to prove
dangerous in a jam. And that it is jamming

 

waka had closed.
present, such as the continuous grinding and
grumbling, and hummocks of fresh upheavals
around us.

‘¢ Anchors out,’? shouts the captain,
shortly, as he strides to and fro on the
bridge like an evil spirit. ‘‘Overboard with
two of them, and keep the nip off theship.”’

‘*Ay, ay, sir,’? and each man competes
with his neighbor in activity.

I lean over the chains and watch them.

The anchors are fixed in the ice in record
time, and a connecting wire hawser carried
through a porthole, and round the capstan,
at which thecrew are set working.

I can’t say I understand the method. But
I understand the conclusion.

The men have just left the: bars, and the
hawser is thoroughly taut, when, snap! it
goes, making a report like a rifle. Luckily,
no one was within its fling, or it would have
seut him into eternity in two halves.

Yet another cable is tried, but it, too,
snaps like a thread, and the attémpt to
stay off the squeeze is forsaken.

I begin to dislike the look of things.

‘¢What’s to be done?’’ I ask the captain,

‘*Done!’’ he says, savagely. ‘‘Saw our
way out.’’

IT own this comes as a surprise. The idea
of sawing through two hundred yards of ice
and upward, had not occurred to me,

However, ‘‘All hands on deck to saw the
ship out. Mr. Duncan, get the saws started.”’

‘Ay, ay, sir.’?

And in ten minutes the saws are over-
board, set in their frames, and a bevy of
sturdy seamen working like niggers on them.
Others, with axes, hew a guiding line to
the ship, and myself and more, with boat
hooks and seal clubs, pole out the segments
as they are cut, and so keep the way clear.

It is a scene full of novelty and interest to
a drylander such as I.*° But it is also the
most disheartening work a man ever put
hand to, for no sooner have we cut fifty
yards, than the squeeze has shut the inlet.
It is disheartening indeed!

But with patience, perseverance, and ten
hours of unceasing work, we gain the day.

Yes! at last the ship is cut free.

‘‘On board, there,’’ rolls from the bridge,
and we scramble up the side in quick time.

Not a moment is to spare. Again we
gather in a cluster on the forepeak, and bear
the telegraph bell sound in the engine room.
Long since the steam has been at full pres-
sure.

Wish, wooch! replies to the rattle of shift-
ing levers, as the sea dances up astern round
the screw. The bark gathers way.

Will she? Ay. No. Thus we talk.

along her ribs.

at our weary task again.
But fortune favors us.

 

    

NEWS.

is very evident, seeing the way in which our |
Other indications are also |

Itisa
tight fit, and we feel the grate of the ice

Another five minutes would have seen us

cheer from sixty throats goes skipping over
the.ice-sheet. Hurrah! And now all save the
watch tumble down the fore and main
hatches, or the companion, as the case is,
to bury themselves in tea mugs and Mor-
pheus, having had quite enough of ice saw-
ing to satisfy for a lifetime.

> ee ———

SHORT f ALKS:- ==

Wita Que Bovs.

ARTHUR SEWALL.

EDITED BY

aetna,

 

Yours, Easton, Pa., writes: ‘Will you please
give me what information you can concerning
the army of the Argentine Republic, what the
pay is; the term of service; the requirements;
what chance there is of becoming a commis-
sioned officer if one should start in as @ private,
or whether I could procure a commission with-
out serving as a common soldier? Also please
tell me what the cost would be from New York
to Buenos Ayres.” :

It would be difficult for you to make a
worse move than to visit the Argentine Re-
public with the intention of entering its
army. It is well to tell you in very emphatic
terms that it is no place for a young Ameri-
can.

It is commonly supposed that our own
army is a very poor place for a young man
of ambition to enlist in as a private, but it
isa paradise compared with the army of
the Argentine Republic. The latter is com-
posed of natives, too ignorant for other work,
criminals, the off-scourings of the seaports,
with a very small proportion of honest mien.
The officers, as a rule, are sons of good
families (native Argentines), and the gulf
between them and the file is immeasurable.

The army contains about 7,500 men all
told. The pay is poor. Privates receive not
more than ten dollars monthly in Argentine
paper, equal to about three dollarsin United
States money. The rations are wretched,
and the service the lowest. There is a mili-
tary school of 150 cadets, and from it the
majority of officers are drawn.

A fact about the Argentine Army, little
known to outsiders and almost incredible, is
that criminals are sentenced by the courts
to various terms of military service! A man
brought. before a judge for stealing or as-
sault will in nine cases out of ten be sen-
tenced to the army for a year or two.
Therefore, as can plainly be seen, there is
but little honesty or trustworthiness in the
average Argentine soldier.

If you must shoulder a rifle or wield a
sabre, do it in the service of your own coun-
try. There is none better on earth.

The cost of a first-class passage from New
York to Buenos Ayres is $180. The steerage
is $100. There is no intermediate cabin.

F. J. L., New York city, writes: “Hoping that
Ido not give you any unnecessary trouble, I
ask you if it would be wise for me to follow
the sea, as I havea natural inclination toward
it. Iam fifteen years old, about five feet tall,
aud have had. a public school education. I
would like to know if there is any place where
I could carry out my inclination? I would be
willing to work for pay on any kind of a boat.’’

You can follow your inclination right here
in New York, where there are a large num-
ber of agencies which engage sailors, Or, if
you prefer, you can enlist in the United
States Navy. In the latter case, however,
you must agree to serve for five years, and
I venture to say that you would become
heartily weary of the life long before that.
Write to the commandant of the navy-yard
at Brooklyn and ask him for particulars. 4

You must remember that the life of a
sailor is an exceedingly hard one, the pay
is not good, and the food, more often than
not, poor. Moreover, if you go before the
mast as an ordinary seaman, you are more
than likely never to rise any higher, Cap-
tains and mates are not made every day,
and to reach those positions, even if capa-
ble of filling them, one must wait for ‘‘dead
men’s shoes.’?? Promotions are only made
when those holding the positions retire or
are removed by death.

If you are determined, in spite of all, to
embrace the sea as a means of livelihood, I
strongly advise you to join one of the
school ships, whose object is to prepare a
boy for the important duties of a seaman,
so that he will be able to take charge of a
vessel when he is of age, instead of going
before the mast as an ordinary seaman, In
this way, you will be able to learn naviga-
tion thoroughly, and not have to work be-
fore the mast all your life.

W. P. G., Carlisle., Pa., writes: “I am sixteen
years old and want very much to become an
actor. I believe that all my talent lies in that
direction, and I care more for it than I do for
anything else. Can youtell how to get a
manager to give me a chance?”

If you really have talent, [ should be sorry
to discourage you, although asarule I donot
advocate the theatrical profession. This is
not because I have not the highest respect for
the calling. On thecontrary, I rank iton an
equality with other departments of art. But
I know full well from personal knowledge

 

We are through at last! And a ringing

how many fail and how few succeed. I
suppose eight boys out of ten, at one time or

 

another, believe that they are cut out for
an actor and long to strut their brief hour
upon the stage. And yet, they never seem
to realize that it is one of the most difficult
of all professions or trades.

My advice to you is to wait until you are
two or three years older before you decide.
Meanwhile, act all you can in private theat-
ricals. This will give you confidence and a
certain knowledge of what your capabilities
are.

Managers of theatres will seldom enter
into engagements with unknown aspirants
for dramatic fame, it being far more profit
able to avail themselves of acknowledged
talent than to speculate upon bringing for-
ward unknown and unappreciated merit.

Be assured of one thing, that, while the
stage is a pleasant life for first-rate actors,

to the many it is one of drudgery, humilia- -

tion, and frequent penury.

RA, Elizabeth, N.J., writes: “Seeing that you
give all the readers of Goop News, the star of
all weekly papers, advice of what they wish to
know, I write to you myself. I am now work-
ing ina telegraph office as messenger, L have
been there eight months, and have learned the
business; have sent afew messages already.
Would you advise me to learn shorthand and
typewriting?’

I am not quite sure that I think a tele-
graph operator is the best thing a youns
man of ambition can become. It is not diffi-
cult to learn how to receive and transmit 4
message, but it is difficult to become an ex-
pert. A slow operator might better hau
water or carry bricks. The salary paid 15
not large and the hours are long and the
confinement close. Moreover, there is little
or no chance to rise.

By all means, study typewriting and ste-
nography. The knowledge may prove ©
great advantage to you.

SpectaL Norice.—Many communications;
improperly addressed to this departmeD",
are answered in the ‘‘Mail Bag.”’

 

———___~ > —
DO BIRDS POISON THEIR YOUNG?

It has been claimed by observers of birds
that some of the feathered tribe will fee
their young if they are caged, and if they
fail after a certain time to\release thee
will bring them a poisoned weed to eat, tha
death may end their captivity. :

Last spring, at a farm-house, the children
captured a nest of three young thrushes,
they were caged immediately and hung *
a tree. k ;

The mother was soon about, calling Be
young, and in a little while brought ie
some worms. She continued feeding the?
regularly for several days without seeming
to pay much attention to persons about. oh

But shortly after this came the tragl¢ er
ing that demonstrated the theory relative 4
birds. The mother brought her little one
sprig of green one morning and disappearing

In less than an hour they all died.
sprig was examined and proved to
deadly larkspur, a weed that will kill
grown cattle. i

The little creatures lay dead in the ont
victims of their mother’s stern resolve t ot
her offsprings should die by her ow? 6
rather than live in captivity.

——___~ o--e—__——-

IS THE TIGER MORE COURAGEOUS
THAN THE LION?
‘One time, in order to test the courage of
a Bengal tiger and a lion,’’ said a ben
known showman, ‘‘we placed a pe tbe
cracker in the respective cages and fire
fuses. As soon as the fuses began 10, ais
they attracted the attention of both anime”
but in a widely different manner. hed
‘‘The lion drew into a corner an Oe ae
the proceedings with a distrustful an ads
easy eye. The tiger, on the contrary» (.)
vanced to the burning fuse with a firm
and unflinching gaze. ‘0
“On Mei ohing the cracker, he began et
rol] it over the floor with his paw, and not
it exploded beneath his nose he di until
flinch, but continued his examination reat
The lion betrayed 8.

perfectly satisfied.
fear when he heard the report of the om be
sion, and for quite a time coul y
coaxed out of his den,”’
+--+
LOGICAL.
—- ; ‘ rec
The study of mathematics is especially the

ommended as a means of develop?
reasoning faculty. No doubt it is adap put it
accomplish that very desirable en»
seems to fail in some cases. 11 ask the
“Six and four are how many?
teacher. who has
‘“Bleven!?? shouts a little” boy, mucd of
worked hard to learn by rote 48 A
his arithmetic as possible. King his
‘‘Hum,’? says the teacher, sh
head; ‘‘think a moment.’’
‘“Twelve.’’
‘*No,?? 5
‘*Thirteen.’? ;
‘‘Now what makes you thir
thirteen? Suppose you had gu
number—ten for instance?’’
*‘Oh, no,’’ said the boy, ©
couldn’t be ten.’

be

‘ could 5
ved a sulle?
‘it
nfidently s ~

 

‘Why not?’’

”
‘‘Because five and five make that!

 

    

 

 

 

 

  
 
 
    
  
   
   
   
 
 
 
   
    
  
  
    
   
 
 
    
  
 
  
    
 
 
 
 

 

   
  
 
  
 
   
   
  
  
 
  
 
 
  
   
 
 
  

  
   

a
BS See se ee eae ee oe eee

     
  
Det 2222222 mt

  

GooDpD

     

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

THE VALLEY OF MYSTERY;

OR,
"The Search for the Flower of Gold.

A STORY OF VENEZUELA.

   

 

 

BY ENRIQUE H. LEWIS,

Authorof “The Nameless Story,” “Yankee Boys in Japan,” “The Copper Disk,” ‘Sword and
Pen,” “‘A Young Free Lance,” ete,. ele.

 

 

i SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. | and Wynne discover that their boat is leak-
i ; 5 ‘ ; . .ing. It has been scuttled by Cyclops. The
a nytekla Morse, a lad of seventeen, whose fa-|yiver they are navigating is filled with alli-
“3 1er Was an Aimerican and mother a Greek, is !

a gators and their peril is something awful.
€mployed in a wholesale drug store. Through | ° ; . } ag 5

i no fault of his he is discharged. <As he is leav-
Ing the place he is accosted by an old sailor,
With one eye, and a polished steel hook instead
Ofalefthand. The sailor shows him a bundle
Of grayish roots and asks him how much they .
are worth. ‘Thekla declares them to be Vene- | the boys grasped the oars with a last des-
Cuelan sarsaparilla and worth about thirty | perate desire to sell their lives as dearly
zents. The sailor, who goes by the name of | as possible. Both were excellent swimmers,
Cyclops McGinnis, tells
a sad story of a sick

CHAPTER X.
QUEBRACHO,

(“THE VALLEY OF MysTERY” was commenced No. 317. Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.) |

NEWS.

alligators made a simultaneous dash toward
the boys.

Just then a shrill shout came from the
bank—a shot rang out, then a canoe darted
from under a mass of vines trailing from a
huge decayed log. One of the reptiles
threshed about with its powerful tail, then
disappeared, leaving a ruddy tinge dyeing
| the surface.
| Thekla supporting the limp form of his
companion, saw that help was at hand.
With rare presence of mind, he splashed the
water with his disengaged arm. Bewildered
with the commotion, and balked of their
| prey, the alligators vanished.

A moment later the canoe
boys.

 

reached the

native Indian—dragged them into the craft, |

| and hastily returned to the bank.
| Thekla helped to place Wynne upon a bed
of leaves, then he threw up both hands and
| fell prostrate at the feet of their rescuer.
His swoon was of short duration. When he
recovered he found the Indian bending over

river.
Wynne,
The little hunchback was sitting up.

 

Child. and no money
to procure medicine.
Thekla, in the generosity
Of his heart, gives hima
dollar and a half, more
than one-half of the boy’s
Slender capital. The
Sailor, in return, thrusts
the bundle of sarsapa-
Milla roots into his hand,
at the same time giving
iS address and prowmis-
the to repay the money.
Thekla then goes to the
Toom which he occupies
jogether with a hunch-
nack boy named Wynne
Teeters. Thekla tells
hig Story and examines
the bundle of roots. To
IS surprise and delight
© finds among them a
€af from the plant of
£0ld, of which he knows
ere are only two speci-
Mens in existence. ‘The
faf is covered with
“Weer symbols, which the
°Y8 take to an old Ger-
pan professor, who lives
Othe house, to decipher.
> latter declares that
Queer hieroglyphics
ban that some one is
in Mfined against his will
te 4 Valley of death loca-
In the interior of
nezuela, and that in
Flo Same place is the
oa of Gold. After
det € discussion the boys
W Mine to sell the leaf,
aace must be worth at
and a thousand dollars,
to With the proceeds go
énezuela in search

1 r the mysterious val-
Y. They also decide to

 

.

 

*

 

    
  
 

  
 
 
 
 

  
    
   
    
   
  
 
   
      
  
 
  

 

The solitary occupant—evidently a |

His?

9

 

, extended conversation. He was glad, there-
| fore, when-the reply came in his own tongue,
| if somewhat broken.
| ‘*Me do nothing,’’ responded the native,
| courteously. ‘‘Quebracho glad he come now,
| that’s all.’
| ‘*And so are we,’’ spoke up Wynne, fer-
| vently. ‘‘lf you hadn’t been in the vicinity
| we would have furnished a dinner—ugh !—
to those brutes.”’
‘fT see other boat—where it go?’’ asked
| Quebracho, curiously.
| ‘It disappeared beyond that bend,’’ re-
| plied Thekla. ‘‘ And, by the way, they must
have missed us by this time. They should be
| returning——’’

His words were suddenly cut short by the
whip-like report of a rifle, then a volley
| rang out, and the branch of a tree directly

over their heads snapped and fell to the
| ground.

| As quick as a flash the nativé grasped
| both boys by the arms. With scarcely an
| effort, he forced then: backward. Wynne

;

As the boat sank from beneath their feet,| him, laving his face with water from the! started to utter a cry, but he found himself
Struggling to his feet, he looked for

| sprawling behind the trunk of a decayed
| tree before the sound left his lips.
‘*Down!’’ grated Quebracho. ‘‘Some one

 

 

Completely bewilder-
ed, Thekla and his com-
panion obeyed the or-
der. The former felt
for the hilt of his re-
volver, but the damp
touch of the case speed-
ily recalled to him the
fact that it had been
temporarily rendered
‘ useless by its bath in
the river.

‘‘Are we attacked by
Indians??? he asked,
breathlessly.

‘*No; them white
men’s guns,’’? was the
startling reply. ‘‘Que-
bracho know sound.’?

‘“‘White men? Why,
who could it be?’’

‘*Cyclops and_ his
mates,’? blurted out
Wynne. ‘‘I’ll bet any-
thing they have tried
to kill us.’’

‘*Impossible!’’ indig-
nantly replied Thekla.
‘*Why.should they——’’

**Sh-h!?’ interrupted
the native. ‘*Youstay
here; I go see.”’

shoot.’’

He wriggled away
like a snake, leaving

the boys still arguing
the question.

**You should not be
so free with your suspi-
cions,’’? said Thekla,
warmly, ‘‘Simply be-
cause you had a night-
mare on board the Sind:
J bad, in which you
thought Cyclops and the
crew were plotting our
murder—ridiculous idea
—you must needs ac-
cuse them of trying to
assassinate us now.’’

‘*T believe they fired
those shots, and you’ll
find out that I am
right,’’ retortedWynne,

 

doggedly.
‘*But what could be
their object? You

don’t think they would
killus for the fun of
the thing, do you?’’

‘“No; but they would
for the gold we expect
to find in the Valley of
Mystery.’’

‘*Nonsense. They
surely know there is
bound to be enough for
all.”’

 

 

   
  
  
   
  
  
  
   
     
      
    
       
   
     
  
  
  
  
     
  

 

    

  

 

A BURLY MAN, WITH A ROUND, RED FACE AND ONE EYE, STAGGERED INTO THE CLEARING.

countenance bore an expression of mingled
terror and bewilderment. On seeing Thekla
he gave a cry of joy.

‘Thank God you are safe!’’ he exclaimed,
brokenly.

‘‘We are all right, chum,’’ was the young
botanist’s cheery reply. ‘‘It was a narrow
escape, but, thanks to this gentleman, we
are still alive.’’

He turned and frankly extended his hand
to the native, who accepted it rather tim-
idly. The stranger was a man of powerful
physique, and seemed to be in the prime of
life. He was almost a giant in stature, and
the brawny muscles of bis arms and back
—he was clad only in a breech cloth—stood
out in shapely knots.

His face was dark, but the features bore
the imprint of intelligence. His eyes were
clear and piercing, and he looked to the lads
the personification of primitive nobleness,

‘‘] thank you, sir,’’ said Thekla, simply.
‘“*You have saved us from a horrible death,
and we are indeed grateful.’’ ,

He unthinkingly spoke in English. He
had some knowledge of the Spanish lan-
guage—a mere smattering of conventional

9”

took Up Cyclops MeGin-
8, and take him as a
-moPanion and guide.
; iy ad €y therefore go to the
f Baines given by the ola
+ + They are just
i qvout to feroaks whe the
; °r is forced open with
‘ Cras} a aS
“- fi tin I, and two men,
Bhatti tec. “oneot
f heh ‘ ne Strugglers turns out
; ay" The’ Cyclops McGinnis.
BPP Roe anpcaceacs cna the
3 ‘i, two arance and the
"1 &n abandon their
1 Wa: pet el. Thekla tells
’ J Tha +P8 Of his discovery.
ah Comp atter agrees to ac-
1 1 Regth EY them and sug-
iM Ae the “git oy charter
f 147 Plone to. iijs friend,
PS ee nop ky Sinn. | Wynne is
re by Measantly impressed
: Either ¢ appearance of
dn le two mien
ti feay Hella ridicules his aid
J a coll The leaf is sold to
t Dondved oy for twelve
. Party do ‘ars, and the
a iSindbaa Sail_in the : or f it had b ce a
een out for Venezuela. After they have | and if it nad not been for the proximity of
| Versation ew days, Wynne overhears a con-}the ferocious alligators, they could have
bis tortor eyween Cyclops and een: re to | reached the bank without trouble.
48 p Otting | ges from their words that they | “4 shrill ery of terror came from Wynne
0 # his and Thekla’s murder in order} _ Bae ts rd fs j ; r
Geog. POSSession of the money and then pro- | When their frail support disappeared. He
a to tell ee gold valley alone. Wynne hurries |Splashed wildly toward Thekla just as a
16 eling 1ekla of his discovery, but the latter is | round, scaly head, dripping with slime and
iO Dear - 0° be incredulous, and after events | moisture, rose to the surface within arm’s
it Meare ig bear him out in his opinion, as 10} length. ‘ ;
i Th ue ote oe the Bote enue Treading water, Thekla aimed a blow at
10 “ex Party land ava Gutk Che pienthawe aeons the monster with his oar, but the ashen
den fod Ver news which has come that Presi- | blade shivered into splinters without appar-
aS fare) Veland defies England. The boys are | ently the slightest effect. Completely beside
of the ine St: being discovered to be Americans, | himself, Wynne made a trenzied dash and
' ha Rasen people nay interfere with them | actually grasped the reptile by the end of
is Det Cyetgant ther carrying out their plans. | his horny, overlianging lip.
Afton ea DiRGleot catiae stiaged Hoale, ok Somewhat astonished by the peculiar at-
1 Natigg Ving in provisions and other neces-| tack, the alligator backed away, only to
Stearn. '8"t for the Valley of Mystery ina river | give place to others. Now fully a score sur-
aMey, Ok the Valley of Mystery ina riv l
“gty Startliy osourney 18 accomplished without | rounded the boys. All chance of reaching
be stem mos incident, and the steamer lands | the bank was cut off
el neltibs, wy cventy miles from the River Es-| ‘We are doomed, chum,” gasped the
ty Other Seine is their destination. There was | hunchback. ‘‘Good-by—goo——??
it bong torent ot ehe ce ts mei Ea eeetaed | Ho suddenly disappeared under the sur
Fi fith : At McGinnis’ suggestion, which is made face, with the uncompleted farewell trem-
phat Why bose, the two boys embark in one| bling upon his lips. Frantic with despair,
Party go h Cyclops and the remainder of the| Thekla dived after him, and succeeded in
bs © i the other. After awhile Thekla! dragging him back, just -as several of the

   

   

words and phrases—but not enough for an

‘*T doubt it in their
case. They are not the
class of men to consider
other people. Mark my words, that old sailor,
with his one eye and the hook,is a vil-
Jain.??

‘*You have forgotten he saved your life
the day before we left New York.’’

The little hunchback winced.

‘‘T haven’t forgotten it,’’ he replied,
softly, ‘‘but, Thekla, I can’t help my con-
victions. I am grateful to him, and you
know it, but——’’

A dry twig snapped close at hand, then
the dense brush parted and the native crept
into view. His face wore an expression of
disappointment.

‘*T no find them,’’ he said, in a low voice.
“*T Jook over river, but no see boat or noth-
ing. They may hide now, like us.’’

‘*Where did the shots come from?’’ asked
Thekla. ‘‘I confess I was so startled I did
not see.’

Quebracho pointed across to where a mass
of foliage draped the bank of the river just
below the bend. A troop of chattering mon-
keys swung from the wiry limbs of several
greenheart trees. A solitary buzzard soared
in the air far overhead, but in the vicinity
of the spot indicated by the native there

 

were no signs of animal life.
 

10

GooDp

 

Thekla was shrewd enough to see that this
fact was significant.

‘‘Tt looks as if the would-be assassins are
still there,’’ he said.

Quebracho nodded assent.

‘*Céme, we go look other way,’’ he said.
‘‘No stand up; do like this.”’

He dropped to his hands and knees, and
crawled through the rank vegetation so

swiftly that he was out of sight before the |

boys had fairly started. ‘The novel mode of
locomotion was hardly to their liking.

Wynne thrust his head into a thorny bush,
and received sundry painful szratches be-
fore he had proceeded two yards. Thekla
was more fortunate, but he would have pre-
ferred walking. They heard a low laugh in
front, and Quebracho’s: face appeared be-
tween an interlacing branch and the trunk
of a palm.

'  ‘*Youno like this way?’’ he queried. ‘‘ You
go little while, then we walk.’’

‘‘T am dused glad to hear it,’’ replied the
little hunchback. ‘‘I’ve just bruised my
knee, but I am game for a mile, if need be.’’

Thekla noticed thet their new friend was
leading them away from the river, and he
shrewdly guessed that Quebracho wished to
place a respectable distance between them
and the stream before skirting it.

His conjecture was correct. A moment
later the native rose to his feet and started
off at right angles. He carried a keen-edged
machete, or long-bladed knife, with which
he cut a path as he proceeded.

After traveling probably five hundred
yards, he returned to the bank of the river.
They had barely sighted the muddy current
when the sound of somebody forcing himself
through the brush came to their ears.

Quebracho hastily forced the boys behind
a clump of cabbage palms, then he leveled
his gun. It was a modern rifle of apparently
American make, and the barrel gleamed
ominously in the afternoon sun.

Where they had stopped was on the edge
of a little clearing recently swept by fire.
It was inclosed in a tangle of trees and Iux-
uriant’ undergrowth. A bird of gorgeous
plumage rested upon an overhead limb, and
peeping above the shelter of a little knoll
were three or four ground animals strange
to the boys.

The crackling noise increased, and _ pres-
ently a bush bright with scarlet buds was
rudely dashed aside and a burly man, with a
round, red face and one eye, staggered into
the clearing. It did not need the polished
steel hook to identify the new-comer.

It was Cyclops McGinnis.

Thekla and Wynne saw at a glance that
something untoward had happened. The old
sailor’s clothing was almost torn from his
body. His hat was gone, and across one cheek
ran a blood-red scratch. He was panting
hoarsely, and his every action indicated that
he was a fugitive.

CHAPTER XI.

OYOLOP AS’ STORY.
FTAHE glint of the gun barrel caught Cy-
4 ~2 clops’ eye, and he abruptly halted.

VE) ‘Don’t ~=shoot, don’t shoot,’’ he
\“> called out, hoarsely. ‘‘I surrender.’’
Thekla forced his way into the clearing,

and advanced with his hands extended.

‘““Do not be alarmed; it is us,’’ he ex-
claimed, ‘‘What is the matter? What has
happened???

Cyclops gave a shout of joy. Bounding
forward, he caught the young botanist’s
arm with his hook, and held him at arm’s
length.

‘*Blast my one peeper! is it indeed you,
lad?”’ he roared. ‘‘Death of life! I am gee-
whizzled with joy. An’ ye’re alive, after all?
I ce them alligators had done eaten
you. here’s my little friend, the queer
one?’?’

Wynne Sere out with Quebracho. The
latter eyed the old sailor curiously for a mo-
ment, then he leaned against the trunk of a
palm, and awaited developments.

Cyclops greeted the little hunchback effu-
sively, but Wynne did not display much en-
thusiasm. He shook the proferred hand in
silence.

‘‘What under the sun has happened???’
asked Thekla. ‘‘Where is Brocky Sinn?’?

The old sailor sighed mournfully, and
pointed to his tattered clothing.

‘*‘T have a story to tell ye, lad, that’ll kill
all confidence in yer fellow men. I’vé6 sailed
the briny for nigh onto forty years, and I’ve
met ingratitood in all climes, but the actions
of my once bosom mate, Brocky Sinn, has
capped the climax.’’

‘What did he do?’’

‘‘He tried to kill me,’’ replied Cyclops,
huskily. ‘‘He turned on me like a_ wiper,
and with them two sailors—mates I’ve be-
friended more’n once—he attempted to do
me up. See this cut?’’

66YVes,??

‘Well, that’s the mark of his knife. It
was this way: Arter we pulled™"away from
the bank where you wanted to shoot them
’gators, we rowed around a bend in the
river. Bimeby I glanced back to'see if you
was comin’, an’ just then I heard /a screech.’’

“Tt was I.”?

‘‘f thought so, an’ I, knew somethin’ was
up. I told the men to turn the boat, but
Brocky swore a mighty oath, and said he
wasn’t going back for nobody.’’

 

‘*The villain !”’

‘*Yes, that’s him. I roared mutiny, an’
they all pitched on me. Brocky, he said he
wasn’t going back for you kids, an’ he hopes
as how the boat would sink an’ pitch ye to
the ’gators. I couldn’t stand that, so we had
it hot an’ heavy. I managed to git ther
craft to ther bank, then/I scooted because
they was coming too warm for me, And
here I am.’’

‘*They fired at us from the brush, the
miserable assassins,’’ exclaimed Thekla.

‘Yes, I wasrunning through these blamed
woods when I heard the shots, Who is the
nigger?’’

‘*Sh-h! he is our preserver. He rescued
us from the caymer when our boat went
down. His name is Quebracho, but that is
all I know about him.’’

Cyclops approached the native, who still
stood watching them in silence. Extending
his hand, the old sailor said, heartily :

‘‘T want ter thank ye for rescuing my
young friends. They are like twosons to me,
and by yer brave act ye’ve made me yer
mate for life.’

@uebracho. bowed, and quietly shook
hands.
‘‘Now, mates,’’ said Cyclops, briskly,

‘twe’ve got ter make tracks back ter the |
| tempt to persuade the old sailor, but quiétly

last landing place of the River Queen and
look for more boats. Brocky and his men
are scooting up the river as fast as they can
by this time, an’? we must make haste to
catch them.”’

‘*We can’t do it by going the other way,’’
spoke up Wynne.

The old sailor’s solitary eye contracted.

‘*Nor can we walk fast through this here
forest,’? he said, dryly. ‘‘I understand it
gits thicker the farther we git into the in-
terior. No, our best plan is to secure an-
other boat.’’

‘‘Where you go?’’ suddenly asked the
native, addressing Thekla

‘*We are bound toward the headwaters of
this river,’’ replied the lad, evasively.

‘*You look for golc?’’

6¢Ves,??

‘‘Then why you go that way? Gold mines
over there.’’

He pointed to the north-east, and added:

‘*Plenty white men go by here for gold
mines, but they mistake. Best way is by
other river below. I show you way.’’

“Tt isn’t the regular gold fields we wish to
reach,’’ explained Thekla, ‘‘but a valley
hundreds of miles from here. We must
ascend this river.’’

Quebracho leaned forward, and asked,
eagerly :

‘*You say valley?
valley of gold?”’

The young botanist glanced at his ques-
tioner in surprise. There was something in
his manner which seemed to indicate sup-
pressed excitement. Was it possible he had
neard of that mysterious place whence had
come the wonderful cryptogram?

Thekla was shrewd beyond his years. He
was a student of nature by instinct, and he
had felt fully satisfied that the native was a
man to be trusted the moment he saw his
face.

During the long voyage from New York
the lad had thought over the details of their
strange quest time and again. Together with
Wynne, he had weighed each pro and con,
All their debates and arguments had ended
with one hope—that a trustworthy guide
could be obtained.

Their wildest fancy had not reached as far
as the possible acquisition of a native actu-
ally acquainted with the locality of the val-
ley itself, but Quebracho’s peculiar actions
and question kindled a flame of hope in
Thekla’s breast. He was on the point of re-
plying, when Cyclops interposed,

It was evident the wily old sailor had
grasped the hidden meaning of the Indian’s
question. His solitary eye half closed, and
he said, in a voice husky,with excitement:

‘Ye mentioned the valley of gold, didn’t
yer? What d’ye know about it? Did ye ever
hear tell of a place away up in- the moun-
tains where a flower which bears a plant th’
color of gold grows? Quick! don’t keep a
man waiting.’’

Quebracho folded his arms and looked
Cyclops full in the face fora moment. His

What you know about

‘lair of intense eagerness vanished as if by

magic, and he again became the imperturb-
able native. Presently he turned to Thekla,
and said, with a shrug of his powerful
shoulders:

‘<] know nothing what this man _ says.
Plenty valleys up in big mountains. Maybe
gold there, too,’’

Was it a mistake, or had the speaker made
an almost imperceptible sign with his right
hand? The young botanist’s heart bounded
with hope. He felt assured that Quebracho
was really in possession of facts of the great-
est value to them. That he distrusted Cy-
clops, and would not speak in his presence,
was plainly evident.

‘Tl question him as soonas I get a
chance,’’ he murmured. He added, aloud:

‘‘We are in search of a certain place in
the interior where gold can be found in
abundance, Quebracho. It’s hundreds of
miles from here, and I guess you have never
been there. Now, what had we better do?
It will be ashame to permit those scoun-
drels to escape with our camping outfits.’’

‘Tf we only had a good boat we could fol-:

low them,’’ spoke up Wynne.

 

| do,’’ he added, impressively.

 

 

 

  

NEWS.

  

 

‘*T got canoe, but him too small for all,’’
said the native. ‘‘We need guns, too. Them
bad men, and they shoot quick.’’

He paused, then added, hastily:

‘“‘T know what todo. We get men from
my Village. It over there one hour from
river. Get dozen men and guns and more
canoes. We catch them before night. Come.’’

The proposition met with immediate favor
from all save the old sailor. He held back,
and hoarsely whispered to Thekla that it
was a trick of the ‘‘nigger’’ to murder
them,

‘‘T know these here people better’n you
‘They are as
treacherous asa Digger Indian. Don’t ve
trust him, lad, don’t -ye do it.”’

‘‘T am sure you are mistaken about Que-
bracho,’’? replied Thekla, warmly. ‘‘Why
would he go to the trouble of rescuing us
from the alligators only to murder us after-
ward? No, you are wrong. Come, now;
don’t waste any more time. Every minute
is precious.”’

‘*You kin take the risk if ye want to,’’
replied Cyclops, doggedly, ‘‘but I’m blamed
if I will. I'l bide here.’’

Quebracho had left the little clearing to
secure his canoe. Wynne watched the argu-
ment in silence. Thekla made no further at-

embarked with his chum when the nativé re-
turned with his boat.

Cyclops watched them cross the broad
stretch of river until they vanished beyond
a turn in the bank, then he raised his steel
hook and shook it after them vindictively.

‘‘I’ll git ye yet, ye dogs,’’ he muttered,
‘Luck has been on yer side this far, but my
time is coming. Ye’llnever finger an ounce
of that gold if I lose my life in preventing
ye. There’s only enough for one person, and
that’s Cyclops McGinnis. Now ter warn
Brocky of the new danger.”’

He glared about the little clearing for a
moment to get his bearings, then he launched
boldly into the dense jungle bordering the
Mazaruni.

CHAPTER XII.

THE CRY FROM THE JUNGLE.
UEBRACHO sent his light canoe
@ across the stream with a dozen pow-
erful strokes of his paddle, then he
>™ skilfully steered the craft into a nar-
row channel, whose mouth was almost hid-
den by a luxuriant growth of vegetation.

‘‘This go up to village,’’ he said, laconic-
ally.

‘‘What was the matter with Cyclops?’’
asked Wynne.

‘*He decided to remain in that clearing
and wait for us,’’ replied Thekla.

‘‘Him bad man,’’ spoke up the Indian,
quietly, ‘‘Me see him kind along the coast.
Me no like him.”’

The little hunchback cast a triumphant
glance at his chum.

‘¢You see I am not alone in my unfavor-
able opinion of your honest old friend,’’ he
said. ‘‘Some day you will learn his true
character.’’

‘‘He certainly does act peculiar at times,’’
conceded the young botanist. ‘‘It is hard
for me to believe, though, that he is not all
right. You have been down to the coast,
Quebracho?’’

‘‘Yes; me visit Georgetown many times,
I learn English there. I go as guide to En-
glishmen looking for gold fields.’’ 5

The words recalled to Thekla the Indian’s
unwarranted excitement when mention was
made of the Valley of Mystery: He resolved
to ascertain if the man knew aught of the
place.

‘*Quebracho, we ‘owe our lives to you,”’
he began, quietly. ‘‘If it had not been for
your timely aid, we would have been de-
voured alive by the caymen. I believe you
are friendly to us, and I am going to tell
you why we are down here,’’

Quebracho forced the canoe onward
through the cool, still water with practiced
strokes of his paddle. His dusky face was
turned away from the lads, who were
crouching in the stern, but Thekla knew
that his words had not fallen upon unheed-
ing ears.

The little stream wound its tortuous way
through the moist jungle like a huge snake
stretched out in death. Overhead, the
branches of lofty trees interlaced. Chatter-
ing parrots fluttered about through the
foliage. Here and there gray-bearded apes
peered curiously at the intruders, and once
the boys caught sight of a sleek, tawny ani-
mal crouching behind the friendly shelter of
a mimosa bush.

‘‘Several weeks ago,’’ continued Thekla,
‘‘T found a peculiar leaf in a bundle of
sarsaparilla roots. Upon the leaf were some
characters telling of a valley in the interior
of Venezuela. It said that the Plant of Gold
grew there, and that quantities of the pre-
cious metal could be found, The message
came from some one confined against his
will, and——’?

The paddle dropped from Quebracho’s
hand with a splash. Quickly recovering it,
the Indian turned to the boys. His eyes
gleamed with excitement, and his breath
came in short, quick gasps. Holding up one
hand, he said, impressively :

‘If you no want to die, you no go any

 

farther in search of that valley. I like you.
You are good boys. I have heard of that
Valley of Death. My father he see it once.
He die soon after. It home of terrible peo-
ple, and you no live one day if you get in
there.’’

‘‘Gee-whiz!’? exclaimed Wynne, half ris-
ing to his feet. ‘‘I—I don’t think we ought
to go, after all, chum.’’

‘“You say your father has seen the val-
ley?’’ asked Thekla, eagerly. ‘‘ Where is it,
Quebracho?’’

The Indian resumed his paddling without
replying. Stirred by unwonted emotion,
he plied the wooden blade with all his
strength. The canoe shot past partially sub-
merged trees, threaded miniature eddies,
and finally emerged into a long reach, at
the end of which there was a clearing CcoD-
taining a score of rude native huts.

‘¢Quebracho, please tell me all you know
about it,’’ pleaded Thekla. ‘‘We haven’t @
thing to guide us, and we will not turn back.
This valley, whatever it may contain, bas
been visited before. The man who wrote
that message is educated, and I firmly be
lieve he is some explorer held in the place
against his will. I am determined to rescue
him, if it is in my power. You can helpme,
won’t you do it?’’ ,

‘You take bad sailor with steel hand?’

‘‘Not if he turns out to be what you 4B
Wynne think he is.”’

‘‘Then you two boys go alone??’

ocrY Og." 2

The Indian shook his head.

‘You never get there,’’ he said, emphat-
ically. ‘‘Jungle got plenty of wild animals
and snakes. You no get food; you starve
You catch fever like all white men, and you
die. No; go back to coast.’

‘‘T will not,’’ replied Thekla, resolutely:
‘Tf you will not help us, we'll try it alones
eh, Wynne?”’ ‘th f

The little hunchback nodded his head wit)
the air of a determined martyr. If the ©2
of the journey was the fiery pit itself he
would have cheerfully accompanied his
friend. he

“Quebracho,’’? suddenly exclaimed
young botanist.

‘ “y es. ?)

‘¢Are you afraid of the jungle?”’

The Indian laughed.

ce 2? “at +
It my home,’’ he said, simply. to the

‘‘What will you take to guide uS™ ¢
valley?’? continued 'lhekla, in a matter'-0
fact voice.

ve the

Sri nehg whirled around, and ga
lad a startled glance.

‘‘Me guide you? Me go to valley? Not |
everything Englishman got. No,
My father go there one time. Cae
back old man. His face all cut, his €)
gone, his fingers gone, and his ha
like the brayeri leaf. No, no!’’

Wynne shuddered. d

‘“‘Who treated him like that?’’ he aske a

‘‘He no tell. He just moan, and moe
then die.’’ the

A number of the natives flocked ae tbe
collection of huts and lined the bank © wid
little stream. All--young and old—set Fed
shrill shouting, to which Quebracho FeP
with a peculiar call. f yeral

A dozen stalwart fellows piled into 8°" 1;
canoes, and paddled out to meet thelr few
dent leader. After the exchange ° turned
guttural words, the canoes were ward
about, and the little flotilla speeded to
the mouth. “eh the it

The new-comers were armed witb * ip
evitable machete, three or four carTy IDB) th
addition, long, slender blow-pipeS;
which the native Venezuelans are 5°

‘«They use poisoned darts,
Thekla, in a low voice, ‘‘If they ¢ ned
within reach of Brocky Sinn and bis *
will be bad for tbe scoundrels.’

A landing was made where © pac
elected to await their return. Thek
Wynne sprang ashore and searched
tle clearing, but no sign of the °
could be foumd. hi

Both boys shouted his name at the
pitch of their voices. Mocking re
from a troop of mischievous mon ey’
that was all. bd him,”

‘Maybe something has happened es:
said the young botanist, in awed to?

Wynne sniffed incredulonsly. , yJainows

‘(More like he’s rejoined his in time,
mates. We can’t~waste any MO” +fts,
chum. If we intend to get back out :
we’d better be moving.”’ sly OB be-

Quebracho nodded his head Paicapean:

1a,

pad
and

pest
came
g, but

ing informed that Cyclops ba
‘‘We find him bimeby,’’ he $@

cantly. ntre of

The canoes swept out into pt! ¢ recreant
the river, and the pursuit of OMe e
mariners was commenced. Ss 3 pear =

the spot where they had been 5
death: Thekla and Wynne shudderer. ence
alligators, possibly alarmed mF t themsel”e*
of so many boats, had concea ed ;
under the surface. d quebrach
After a mile had been cOveree * ot pank. ‘
gave the signal to steer for the t at use
‘‘Maybe they hide and shoo" ”
said. ‘‘1 send scout ahead to idl
s the bow of the canoe } ry,
were seated touched shore 4 ne se *yense
dently of agonized fear, came ter’é
thicket a few yards from the WS" at. A
With a bound, Thekla left the 74) oth
companied by Quebracho and s°

&

 

 

 

 

 
    
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With horror!

 

 

 

 

    

Clarg

 

. at that

E " kno She whom I could call a friend.

 

a ~Migg, nd
a &\ u b
™ thor ttch fy ee

Natives, he ran to the spot. Parting the |
bushes, they peered through, only to recoil
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
~~. ee ____—_—

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

CAVALIER AND ROUNDHEAD:

OR,

Mighting for the Stuarts.

BY ALFRED ARMITAGE,

Author of ** With Crusader and Saracen,” “In the Days
Of the Gladiators,” ‘Out With Robin Hood,” etc.
(CAVALIER AND ROUNDHEAD” was commenced in

No. 315. Back numbers can be obtained of all News
Agents, )

 

CHAPTER XVI.
IN WHICH I AM CAPTURED AND RESCUED.

 

aa

  

“\HE prospect of such an encounter filled |
2 me with shame, and I heartily re- |
pented my folly in one into the |
town before dark. was less afraid
. Roundhead soldiers than of the keen eyes
My schoolmates. They would likely be
quick to Peooghize me in spite of ni bees
arly disguise, and then would follow un-
face ridicule and insults. I could not
ar the thought of it.

a Owever, I still had a chance of escaping
Stection. The boys were a little behind
ie and before the last of them were over |
he fence I had put a greater distance be-
foe us. 1 passed the foot-ball and limped
Ti nino . pe .
Bes rine to run for fear of
h ut I was not fated to get off so easily. I
ad just gained the wall of a garden that
a Saat to the school-yard whea a mocking
7 told me that I was discovered. Then
With the thoughtless cruelty of boys, the

ole crowd began to shout and jeer, evi-
thro’, Mee me for a beggar passing
e town.
it Could have stood this well enough, had
ee a eae but, Bee aan the
re following me up. So I impru-
®utly started to run, and this was the sig-
shrill anna c® to eevee flying after me with
savage barking.
took a hasty glance over my shoulder,
+ “ecognized a spiteful little cur belonging
alwe rence Culpepper. The creature was
ys hanging about the school-house, wait-
ine or its master, and I had punished it |
hoe than once for unprovoked attacks |
me,
he cur came speeding in pursuit, hissed
P g y
it reo the boys, and as soon as it drew near
ang eShized me for anoldenemy. I shouted
ey at it, but this had no effect. As I
Shar] on running, the brute snapped and
Astingint my series ee it gave me
‘ nip on the ankle:
av ith a cry of pain, I stopped and wheeled
Way Ud. The boys were coming near, but I
dick too angry to care what happened. I
Shane up a good-sized stone, and as the
drjy “4g animal came at me again, I let
On th he missile sped true, hitting the cur |
le head; with a shrill yell, it rolled
; the dust, stunned and bleeding.
fro Streated a few steps, and defiantly ¢on-
WR, My angry schoolmates.
the tg ir ,?? eried, ‘‘or I’}l serve you
« ® Way.’?
C rou will, will you?’’ howled Clarence |
i er. “I'll teach you mawners, you,
Y Yragamuffin. You’ve killed my
ant *m going to pay you up for it.’’
Panic at’s right, Clarence,’’ cried his _com-
Dajy sing ‘*Pitch into him.’? ‘‘Give him
NOS black eyes. ”? **Bloody his nose.’’ a
a on and help, you chaps,’? sang out
©, as he advanced a little nearer.
tree” this time I had backed up against a/|
hag’, 2d was waiting with clinched fists. I
6n recognized yet, and I began to
Such my disguise would screen me even |
Sag ed close quarters. My defiant attitude
Nee w to hold the boys in check, and Clar-
Mgle-han ge ero a coward to attack me,
vy Ided,

8

 

Wait till low blackamoor,’’ he snarled, ‘‘ just
Ty, T m™ through with you.’’

Mista apy citing,’ P¥écorted: ‘‘Tf you want |

“Ome ction for the dog, now’s your time to
Ain Sd et it.??

®tfog° you hear that, boys?’’ cried Clar-
ae Aren’t you going to help me?’’

atraig t Coward!’? J exclaimed. ‘You are

mye gecoe yourself. I’ll fight any two

bis .1,00¢8.””
®nq tho, hallenge brought the boys nearer,
qa y began to shout all sorts of vile
at me, They numbered about a

Men
The heat among them was Dick Cromwell.
Pits 5 Were lads of the samé ilk—those
ho SSocint. Sf ammar school who were wont

8 gg with Dick and Clarence. I did

 

Win
aed c; blo
1 come tence mustered up enough courage
Rht “arer. His companionsswarmed to |
eft of him, and Dick Cromwell |
; his way to the “front.
ted, cope ,the ragamuffin, Clarence,’’ he |
he Bini N send him out of town faster |

that he was expected to strike
Ww, and being now sure of assist-

nly

 

 

 

 
 
    

|ing what | designed to do.

»

Dick ended the sentence thus abruptly, and,
as he stared at me in open-mouthed wonder,
I saw a gleam of triumphant recognition in
his eyes.

‘*Why, it’s Geoffrey Davenant,’’ he cried.
‘*Don’t#jou know him, lads? I’d swear to
him, in spite of his dirt and rags.’’

At this the boys jeered more loudly than
ever, coming closer to look into my face. I
would have given anything to be able to sink
into the ground, but there was no escape.
Trembling with rage and shame, I glared at
the circle of mocking foes.

‘*Isn’t he a pretty sight%’’ cried Clarence.
‘*It serves him right for turning traitor, and
going off to find Prince Charlie.’’

‘*He won’t find it a joke when the Round-
heads get hold of him,’’ added another.
‘*They’l hang him to the nearest tree.’’

**Or send him to the Tower of London,’’
shouted Clarence. ‘‘I wonder what has be-
come of his stuck-up companions, Cyril and
Marmaduke. I hope they have been shot.’?

‘*Stop talking, and grab him,’’ cried
Dick, in great excitement. ‘‘You know he

jis wanted for bearing the letter to the

prince, and for killing soldiers of the Par-
liament. If we take him a prisoner to my

I J
father we will be well rewarded.”’

GooD NEwS.

**Quick, then, or some one else will get |

the better of us,’’? added Clarence. ‘‘Don’t
let him slip away. Close in on him, lads.’?

At this the circle of young ruffians made
at me, and as | saw them coming, I vowed
most ace that I would escape. It
was no longer a fight with quarrelsome

| schoolboys; I was threatened with arrest

and punishment for the service I had done
the king, and the thought that Dick Crom-
well might be the cause of my ruin put me
in a fearful rage.

In a trice my mind was made up how to
act, and I did not wait for my foes to fall
upon me; on the contrary, I fell upon them.
I had plenty of muscle, and my fists were
hard, and at the first blow I fetched Clar-
ence Culpepper one between the eyes that
stretched him on his back.

As he went down, howling with pain, I
gave Dick Cromwell a stunning left-hander
in the face. Down he went, too, and I
could have shouted for joy when I saw the
red blood spurt, from his nose. The rest were
at me now, and i swung round in a circle,
hitting right and left.

I was just in the humor for fighting, and
for a time I held my ground valiantly, giv
ing far more blows than I received. The
cowards kept shy of my fists, and were
afraid to close in. Clarence still lay on the
ground, blublering like a calf Dick had
risen to his feet, and from u safe. distance
he was holding his bleeding nose and watch-
ing the fray. All at once he started off on
a run,

‘*I’m going for help,’’ he shouted. ‘Don’t
let the traitor get away. Keep him hemmed
in till [ get back.’’

‘*Make haste, then,’’ cried one of the lads.
‘‘Fetch the troopers from the inn across
from the cattle market—that’s the nearest
place.”’

When I heard this I began to tremble in-
wardly, and I knew that if I would escape,
it must be right speedily. So 1 retreated
across the road, defending all sides of me as
I went, toward a low stone wall that I had
my eye upon. In truth, the situation was no
jest, yet I could not help contrasting this
schoolboy combat with the deadly affrays in
which I had taken part with Cyril and
Marmaduke. :

When I was half way to the wall my
foes gathered more thickly on that side, see-
This served to
madden, rather than dishearten, me, and I
made a terrific dash at the opposing line.
My rain of blows, delivered with both fists,
broke a way through for me in less time
than it takes to tell.

Joe Redmayne, as sturdy a youth as my-
self, caught hold of me from behind. I
turned on him like lightning, and cut my
knuckles on his teeth. As he fell back, I
rushed at the wall, now scarcely a dozen
feet away.

Alas! I had taken but two strides when I
slipped on a stone and came down heavily.
That was my undoing. Before £ could rise,
nine or ten of the lads were upon me, with
triumphant yells. In vain I struggled with
hands and feet, twice gaining my knees.
Each time I was dverpowered and hurled
back, and at last I lay weak and gasping on
the ground, with my captors : sprawling
across my body.

I was minded to make a further effort to
escape as soon as I could get breath, and I
was thinking of my chances when a rapid
rumbling of wheels fell upon my ears. The
noise ceased close by, and I abandoned hope
at once, supposing thatsome one had arrived
who would help to hold me fast for the
Roundhead soldiers.

But a moment later heavy footsteps ap-
proached, and a whip was cracked in the
air, with a report like a pistol-shot.

‘‘For shame, ye cowardly lads!’’ cried a
gruff and angry voice that sounded strangédly
familiar. ‘‘What do I see? Ten upon one!
Is this fair play? Release your victim, and
be off at once.’ )

There was a hasty. scramble to avoid the
whip, and as my captors tumbled to oppo-
site sides, I rose painfully to my feet. I first
thrust up my hand to see if the chain and
locket were safe, and then I lifted up my

/

 

oh

 

eyes to the huge, burly figure of my res- |
cuer. It was my grandfather.

I stood speechless and trembling before the |
terrible glance of Titus Oakwell, wishing |
that the ground would open and swallow |
me up.

‘*Child of evil!’’ he groaned. ‘‘Have you |
come back to bring dishonor upon my gray
hairs! Alas! alas! why am I visited with
such sore afflictions? This is a world of
trouble, both for godly and ungodly.”?

‘‘?Tis your grandson, sure enough, Mas- |
ter Oakwell,’’ sniffled Clarence Culpepper, |
‘fand he has nearly killed us all, as you may
see. We were trying to hold him until Dick
Cromwell should return with the soldiers.
He will soon be here.”’

‘<The soldiers?’’ my grandfather muttered,
uneasily.

He glanced quickly in all directions, and
then pointed his long arm at a market cart
with two horses, that was standing in the
middle of the road.

‘‘In with you, Geoffrey,’’ he whispered.
‘*You are my own flesh and blood, else I
would leave you to the fate you have so
richly merited. I doubt if I can save you,
but what influence I have shall be used in
your behalf.’

At that moment I felt a tenderness toward
my grandfather as I had never known be-
fore. Nay, I almost loved him, still Joyal as

I was at heart to the king. He followed me |

to the cart, helped me to climb over the
end-board, and pulled a heap of empty grain
sacks over me as I lay stretched on the bot-
tom.

‘‘Do not move,’’ he whispered, ‘‘and for
your life make no noise.’’ ,

I heard him mount the seat and crack his
whip, and then the two sturdy farm horses
set off at a rapid trot.

CHAPTER XVII.
IN WHICH I HEAR SOME STRANGE THINGS.

Ve -

I~ F the ride through the town and along
< Ge) the windings of the Black Ouse I can

< tell nothing, except that I was nearly
“<A” smothered by the weight of grain
sacks, and was in constant dread of being
overtaken and dragged away from my
grandfather’s protection.

The pace of the horses alternated between
a trotanda gallop, and the sturdy animals
quickly covered the five miles of level road.
As soon as the cart stopped, I knew by in-
stinct where I was, and with a grateful
heart, I threw off the sacks and climbed to
the ground.

It was more than a month since J had seen
the old farm, and now it did not look the
dreary place that I had once thought it. To
one side of me was the wagon shed and the
barnyard full of sleek cattle; across the road
stood the gray old mansion, surrounded by
trees, shrubbery, and flowers; a few hun
dred yards in front flowed the sluggish
Black Ouse, its water gleaming in the rays
of the setting sun.

‘*Come, Geoffrey,’’ said my grandfather.

I followed him toward the house, glad
enough to escape the inquisitive eyes of the
servants. We crossed the yard, mounted the
stone steps, and entered the wide hall of the
mansion, where the gloom and dampness
struck a sudden chill to my heart.

My grandfather closed the door, and hung
his hat on the wall. Then he faced me
grimly, with his arms folded across his
broad chest.

‘‘And so it has come to this, Geoffrey !’’
he began. ‘‘Thou hast chosen the evil,path
in spite of godly counsel aud admonition.
Thou hast deliberately set thyself to bring
dishonor and shame upon a faithful servant
of the Lord and the Parliament.”’

‘*‘] have done no wrong, grandfather,”’ I
said, stoutly.

‘* Be still, O wicked child,’’ he thundered.
‘“No words can fitly describe the depths of
baseness and perfidy into which thou hast
descended. You dare to say you have done
no wrong? You, who have consorted with
disloyal companions, shared in their treason-
able aid to the outlawed king—yea, even
shed the blood of faithful soldiers of the Par-
liament? Boy, thou art steeped in sin.”’

‘‘Tt is a matter of conscience, sir,’? I re-
torted. ‘‘In this bitter war thou hast fa-
vored one side, and I another. I have been
true and loyal, according to my lights, and
am guilty of no crime.””

My grandfather held up his hands in hor-
ror.

“Geoffrey, Geoffrey, thou art an obsti-
nate and perverse sinner,’’ he cried, ‘‘Were
you not of my own flesh I would abandon
you to your fate. As it is, I fear my influ-
ence will not prevail against the Jaws thou
hast outraged. Know you that you stand in
the very shadow of death? For less crimes
many an Englishman has perished by ax and
bullet and the hangman’s rope.’’

‘*T know that I am in danger,’? I replied,
‘and lam grateful for whut you have al-
ready done for me, and for what you may
be able to do in the future. But I have
nothing to repent of, grandfather, and as
long as I live I will be true and loyal to the
king. I feel proud to have taken a letter
from his majesty to the grince, nor do I re-
gret the blood that was sd on thatservice,
This I am ready to admit, even before the
judges of the parliament.’’

 

‘*So young, and yet a boastful. traitor !??
groaned my grandfather.

‘‘Sir, I was never too young to be loyal to
my country,’’ I replied. ‘‘That, perhaps,
was my birthright, else I .must have been
more influenced by your teachings.’’

‘*You speak truly, Geoffrey. Thou art the

| ungodly son of an ungodly father. But I
| may yet reason with you——’?
‘‘No; ’twould be useless,’’ I said, quickly.

‘‘Let us not talk any further of these mat-
ters, on which we are bound to disagree. I
did wrong to come home—I see it now. You
cannot shelter me without risk to yourself.

| Give me a horse, and I will start away this

very night—so soon as I have rested and
eaten. If I reach the coast in safety, I may
fivd a vessel to bear me to France or Hol-
land——’’

‘*Too late, lad,’’ he interrupted. ‘‘Hark!??

Yes, it was indeed too late. There was a
sudden clatter of horses’ hoofs on the gravel
outside the house; then the tread of booted
feet, and a ponderous rapping on the door.
At the same instant I heard, a like noise at
the rear of the house,

‘‘Stay where you are, Geoffrey,’’ said my
grandfather, in a hoarse tone. ‘‘I am a ser-
vant of the Parliament, and must do my
duty.”?

He advanced to the. door and threw it
open. With heavy steps, five grim-featured
men entered the hall, each bearing an oaken
stave. At their head was Sir Peter Sladen,
the sheriff of Huntingdon.

‘‘Greeting to you, most loyal Master Oak-
well,’’ said the sheriff. ‘‘I come hither on
a grave errand.’’ He drew a document with
dangling seals from his pocket, ‘‘I bear the
Parliament’s warrent for the arrest of one
Geoffrey Davenant, your grandson, who is
accused of divers offenses. I see the’lad be-
fore me. Shall I read my authority, Master
Oak well?’’

‘*Tf it pleases you, Sir Peter,’’ my grand-
father replied, in a low tone. ‘‘But I ven-
ture to think that a mistake hath been
made. This lad is very young, and was
tempted by evil companions to take part in
matters that are beyond his understanding.’’

‘‘He was old enough to fight like a rogue
of a cavalier,’’? snapped Sir Peter, ‘‘and to
shed the blood of our trusty troopers.”’

‘‘That is right, sir,’’ I cried, hotly, ‘‘and
what I did was with a clear understanding.”’

‘“You are putting a rope around your neck,
lad,’’ whispered my grandfather.

‘““You hear him, my good fellows?’’ ex-
claimed the sberiff, turning to his men.
‘‘Take careful note of his admissions.’

With this he flourished the warrant in my
face, opened it, and began to read.

But he had scarcely finished the pompous
preamble when he was compelled to stop on
account of a loud noise outside. Another
party of horsemen had just arrived in front
of the house. They dismounted in short or-
der, and ascended the steps with a brisk jin-
gle of spurs and equipments.

The sheriff looked up angrily, but when he
saw who the visitors were his face flushed
with sudden respect. Mine must have turned
pale, for I beheld coming through the open
door the man whom I dreaded more than
any in all England.

With his ungainly limbs, purple nose, and
big wart, Lieutenant-General Cromwell
strode into the,hall, followed by four red-
coated troopers. He scowled at me, nodded
to my grandfather—who looked vastly re-
lieved to see him—and then turned to the
sheriff.

“‘Sir Peter, you have shown undue haste
with this warrant,’’ he said. ‘‘Nay, I even
doubt if you ‘have not exceeded your lawful
authority.’’

‘‘I—I_ did but show my zeal and loyalty,
sir,’’ stammered the sheriff.

‘*Then show tt again by taking yourself
and your thief catchers out of this house at
once,’’ growled Cromwell. ‘‘The indictment
against Master Davenant calls for a military
arrest and trial. The affair is now in my
hands, and I assume all responsibility.’

‘*T readily yield to you, sir,’’ said the dis-
conifited sheriff, his face turning all colors,
‘tand I crave your pardon——’”?

‘It is granted, sir. Here, give me that.’?

Cromwell suddenly tore the warrant out
of the sheriff’s hands, crumpled it up, and
thrust it carelessly into his pocket. y

I now realized more than ever the absolute
power of the great Parliamentary general—
a power that could quell even so high an
official as the sheriff of Huntingdon. With-
out another word, Sir Peter and his men left
the house, and at a sign from their com-
mander, the four Roundhead troopers fol-
lowed, closing the door behind them.

Cromwell regarded me silently for a mo-
ment, and I fancied I could read a grim and
terrible purpose in his bloodshot eyes.

‘“‘We meet again, as I predicted,’’ he mut-
tered, finally. ‘‘I have not forgotten you,
perverse and unruly lad. Now, when it is
too late, do you not wish you had hearkened
to my warning? See what seditious company
hath brought you to. Are you in a fit mood
for repentance, or for death?’’

‘*T have naught to repent of,’’ [ answered,
as boldly as I could, ‘‘nor am I afraid of
death.”’ ,

‘There are worse things than death,’’ said
Cromwell, in a meaning tone. ‘‘But of that
more anon. What of the companions who
were with ye down in Cornwall? Where are
they now?’’

wey
   

12

I pressed my lips together, and shook my
head.

‘*What?
angrily.

‘* As stubborn as ever,’’ I echoed. ‘‘I will
tell you what you will of myself—but naught
concerning my friends.’’

‘¢ Alas,.woe is me!’’ exclaimed my grand-
father, lifting up his hands piously. ‘‘My
gray head is bowed with grief. This lad _is
not to be turned from his evil courses. He
is eternally lost.’’

‘‘Herichly deserves to be hanged or shot,’’
growled Cromwell, striding suddenly away
from me, ‘‘and were he other than he is I
would ruthlessly deliver him up to justice.
But for your sake, my loyal old friend, I
am willing to spare him. For this I rode
hither in haste as soon as I heard thata
warrant had been sworn out.’’

He looked at his dusty boots and breeches.

‘‘You put a great burden of gratitude
upon me, Oliver,’’ said my grandfather, ‘‘1
shall remember you in my prayers at morn-
ing, noon and night——’’

‘¢But there is a condition, Titus. Wait till
you have heard that.’’

‘*A condition? What is it, Oliver?”’

‘‘That the lad be turned over to me for
the balance of his life. I intend to appren-
tice him to some useful trade in London.
He shall. have a master who will beat all
foolishness and treason out of his head, The
reign of freedom is about to dawn on Eng-
land—a freedom of equality—and there must
be no more pampering and educating of
youths with royalist tendencies.’’

As Cromwell said this he darted at mea
swift look of gratified hatred and triumph,
and my heart sank at the thought of being
in his power.

‘*Oliver, let me implore you to remove this
conditfon,’’ replied my grandfather, with
more feeling than I\had given him credit
for. ‘The lad is my’own flesh and blood,
and I would keep him with me uniil he is
older. I will answer for his good conduct in
the future, and for his bringing up. The
life of a London apprentice is a harsh and
cruel one—spare him that.”?

““TDo not hope to persuade me, Titus,’’ said
Cromwell, with a frown. ‘‘I have spoken,
and that is enough. You should be thankful
for this mercy, which is at a risk to my-
self.’’

‘‘T am, Oliver, and yet if you would make
the condition a little more lenient——’’

‘‘Rather would J make it more severe.
There is no other course. If you refuse my
offer, the lad shall go to London for trial.
Young as he is, the judges will show him no
mercy.’?’

My grandfather paced up and down the
hall, his rugged face pale with emotion.

‘“‘T can’t bring myself to consent,’’ he
groaned. ‘‘This is a hard test, Oliver.’’

‘*T will make it easier, then,’’ said Crom-
well, striding up to him. ‘‘ Are you still ig-
norant of the real name of this lad’s father,
Titus? Would you know whom you harbored
as a son-in-law?”?

He bent forward, and whispered a few
words in my grandfather’s ear.

The old man reeled back as though he had
been smitten by a violent blow. His face
turned from ruddy to white, from white to
gray. He looked at me with.a totally
changed expression—with aversion, rage, in-
credulous horror. Twice he tried to speak,
but could only utter inarticulate words,

‘Oliver, this—this can’t be true,’’ he
finally gasped. ‘‘Do you mean to tell me
that such was James Davenant’s real name
—that he was the son of——’’

‘Hush! not that name here,’’ cried Crom-

As stubborn as ever?’’ he cried,

well. ‘‘Yes, it is all true, Titus. I discov-
ered it by accident. lf you want further
proof——’’

‘Say no more,’? my grandfather mut-
tered, hoarsely. ‘‘I believe*you. Now [ can
readily account for the sins of this ungodly
child. Away with him! Never let me lay
eyes upon him again! I shall forget that I
had a grandson. Take him out of my
sight——”’

He dropped feebly into a chair, gasping
for breath and foaming at the lips. Crom-
well summoned his troopers, and two. of
them led me into an adjoining room.

CHAPTER XVIII.
IN WHICH I SERVE A WRETCHED BONDAGE,

¥F the next five long years of my life,
when I was passing from the stage
,of childhood into that of manly

ASS youth, I shall say but little. Nor is
it for lack of things to tell, since I could
write page after page from memory’s store-
house, but rather because I shrink from
vividly éalling up the woes and bitterness
of that black period. Also, I must hasten
on to recount the further strange and thrill-
ing adventures that destiny had in store for
me.

Five long years! Little did I foresee now
they would be spent as I rode away from
the farm on the Black Ouse, in the gray
dawn of that May morning, 1646. It was on
the previous evening that my grandfather
had cast me off, and delivered me up to the
tender mercies of Oliver Cromwell. I had
eaten and slept, and was now on my way to
London, closely guarded by four mounted
troopers.

 

Coco

[ had not seen my grandfather again be-
fore I started, nor did I care in the least.
My scanty affection and regard for him had
been blotted out of existence by his cruel
words. I was thinking little of what was be-
fore me, for there was a new aud fierce de-
sire in my heart to discover my father’s
real name, and by that means to find him.

I felt certain that he was a Royalist, and
no doubt a man of high birth and promi-
nence. On no other grounds could I account
for my grandfather’s deep agitation and
astonishment on hearing the name, for his
sudden aversion and dislike to me. But he
and Cromwell alone knew the secret, and
the more I pondered over the matter the
more I was convinced that I would be un-
able to wrest the knowledge that I wanted
from either one of them.

So I fell at last into a hopeless and de-
spairing mood, from which even the strange
sights of London could not rouse me when
we reached that great city on the evening of
our second day’s journeying. We rode over
London Bridge, and thence eastward to
Leadenhall street, where we drew up before
a wool and linen-stapler’s shop. I was
handed over to the proprietor, to whom
was also given a sealed letter from Oliver
Cromwell. Then the Roundhead troopers
rode off! down the street, and my new life
had begun.

Gideon Cotton was my master’s name, and
he was as hard and cruel a man as I have
ever known. He was a canting, psalm-sing-
ing Puritan of Cromwell’s ilk, and ruled his
household with a rod of iron. He was mar-
ried, but bad no children, and Mistress
Cotton was a worthy partner for her hus-
band—a gaunt, stern-faced woman, with as
much black hair on her upper lip as would
have filled a growing youth with envy.

The merchant did a flourishing business,
and customers were plentiful. He lived over
his shop, and back of it was a great, dingy
working room. Here, in company with a
score of other apprentice lads, 1 was taught
to handle the looms, and to make myself use-
ful in the manufacture of the sombre cloths
that were so much worn at that time.

I was not bound to my master by any
legal form of indenture, but I was none the
less in his power. The fact that I was liable
to arrest at any time for my services to the
king made it impossible for me to seek re-
dress of a magistrate.

Gideon Cotton was well aware of this, and
I have no doubt that Cromwell had in-
structed him to make my life as hard us
possible. Certainly it beeame a grievous
burden to me, for I wasscantily fed, treated
like a dog, and made to toil hard from sun-
rise to sunset. My companions were coarse,
ill-natured lads, with whom I had nothing
in common, and as soon as they found that
I could not descend to their level, their, con-
tempt turned to hatred.

At first I had some hope of escaping to
France, and there searching out Cyril, or
offering my services to the prince. But I
was kept too close a prisoner for that.
Gideon Cotton instructed four apprentice
lads, all older than myself, to watch me by
day; at night I slept with them in a locked
room, which had a single barred window
high up in the wall. ;

Happily, my precious locket and chain
were safe, though I was deprived of the
gratification of looking at them. I took an
early opportunity of slipping them between
the lining and cloth of my coat, which gar-
ment was the only one of the kind that I
had in five years.

I must speak briefly of what was happen-
ing in the outer world during my dreary ap-
prenticeship, for these things were mentioned
from time to time in the workroom. In June
of 1646 Oxford surrendered, and the long
war was ended. King Charles, who bad es-
caped to Scotland, was handed over to the
Parliament, and for two years and a half
they kept him a prisoner, moving him about
from place to place.

Meanwhile, a struggle for mastery went
on between the Parliament and the Army,
with the latter getting rather the best of it.
Cromwell grew in power and prominence
every day, and it was hinted that his ambi-
tion tended toward a throne.

At last, in January of 1649, the king was
tried for high treason, convicted, and be-
headed. Never shall I forget that black day,
and I wonder that I was able to work at the
looms, such a passion of rage and horror
was burning in my heart.

Thus the years rolled on, and they brought
no change to my wretched and monotonous
existence. As I grew older, I became tall
and thin, and I fancied that my friends
would no longer know me. I was sadly
broken in spirit, and yet, in spite of my
sufferings, I remained as loyalas ever to the
luckless House’ of Stuart. I was never
tempted for a moment to repent the childish
devotion that had so ill requited me.

I heard nothing of my grandfather, and I
gradually began tojregard him as one dead.
I often wondered what had become of Cyril
and Marmaduke; of Dick Cromwell and
Clarence Culpepper. My thoughts more fre-
quently turned to Prince Charles, the heir
to the lost throne, who was safe in France,
and was said to be meditating an attempt to
recover his birthright.

I would have giypn my right arm to be
able to join him) and I never entirely lost
hope of escaping. Also, I was still determined

        
 
 
   
 
  
   
 
  
 
 
  
   
  
 
  
   
  
  
 
  
   
 
 
 
  
    
   
   
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
 
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
    
  
 
  
   
   
  
  
  
     
 
  
   
   
  
 
    
  
   
 
   
  
  
   
  
 
  
  
   
     
  
  
  
       
  
  
   
 
  
  
      
  
  
  
  
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
  
  
   
  
  
 
 

 

NEWS.

’
”

to find my father, if hé was yet alive, and |

that was perhaps my strongest incentive 1m }

watching and waiting for freedom. ei

But it was a long and discouraging wait, |
and year. after year failed to bring the}
chance I sought. The harshness ang cruelty |
of Gideon Cotton never relaxed, nOF did the
persecutions of my fellow apprentices. I
could scarcely have been more of a prisoner
had I been immured in a dungeon, and dur-
ing all those years of servitude I saw little
or nothing of .ondon.

On but three occasions did I put foot out-
side of the wool-stapler’s shop, and then I
was closely guatded by the four appren-
tices I have mentioned, as well as by my
master himself. Once we went as far as the
Tower,-and once we walked in the fields be-
yond Aldgate; the third time I was taken
on a short jaunt to Saint Paul’s and Cheap-
side. On Sundays I was locked up in a room
from morning till night, the apprentice lads
taking turns at sitting with me.

But even deeper misery and degradation
were in store for me, and the blow fell in a
most sudden and unexpected way. I can
vividly remember that morning. It was a
June day in 1650, more than four years after
the Roundhead troopers had brought me _ to
London.

Rain was falling outside, and the dirty
windows let but a dim and grayish light into
the workingroom. The looms were humming
noisily, and as I bent over my task with
aching back, I was wondering if a rumor I
had heard that morning were true—-that
Prince Charles was about to sail for Scot-
land, there to plant his standard, and call
on all loyal Scots to support it.

I doubted this report, for I knew that
General Cromwell was at present engaged in
quelling the rebellious people of Ireland.
Finally, I fell to thinking of my father,
wondering if he still lived, and trying to re-
call his face as I had last seen it.

Gideon Cotton was moving to and fro
about the room, and suddenly he crept be-
hind me, and rapped me sharply on the
head.

‘*You lazy dog!’’ he cried. ‘‘Mopping and
mooning over your work again, are you?
Where are your wits wool-gathering this
morning???

‘*T was thinking of my father, sir,’’ I re-
plied, on the spur of the moment, and with-
out realizing what I was saying.

‘Your father???’ he exclaimed, with a
sneer. ‘'?Tis a pity you ever had one, He
must have been a rascally knaye if you take
after him.”’

At this I wheeled around, stung by such a
passion as I had not felt in all the four past
years.

‘“‘My father was a gentleman, Master Cot-
ton,’’? 1 cried, ‘‘and not to be named by
your foul lips. He would not have wiped bis
sword on you for fear of polluting it, you
contemptible, canting purveyor of cloth.’’

(TO BE CONTINUED. )

enn a nner

WANG TAL AND HIS BLACK PEARL.

a

“BY ARTHUR J. DANIELS.

—e

 

>

   

5) Y the side of each other, there they
hung, curious companions indeed,
2) There they had hung, in the self.
SY same glass case and in the self-same
place over the mantel-piecein Uncle Oliver’s
study for goodness knows how many years.

The first was a big pear], black as ebony;
the second a long mass of plaited hair, blue-
black and glistening. And beneath the lat-
ter was this inscription:

‘“‘Cut from the head of an infamous
scoundrel by me, John Oliver Dalrymple,
December 31st, 1808.’

It was round the fire one evening after
Christmas that we tackled the uncle about
the queer things.

‘‘What!’’ he exclaimed, taking his long-
stemmed pipe from between his lips, ‘'do
you mean to say that I have never told you
the story of Wang Tai and his Black Pear]?
I thought every one knew that.’’

We politely admitted our ignorance.

‘‘Well, well; pull your chairs round, reach
me my tobacco jar, and you shall hear it
from start to finish. By the way, what’s the
date?’?

‘“The 81st of December,’’ said Dick, who
had been silently counting the days which
stood between us and the ending of the holi-
days.

*“The 81st of December!’’ Uncle Oliver
ejaculated. ‘‘Well, that iscurious. Why, it’s
the very anniversary of the incident I’m
about to relate; the very date on which
Wang Tai uttered his queer prophecy—but
there, I’m getting along rather too fast.
Let’s slow down a bit, and begin at chapter
one,

‘*You must know,’?’ continued the unele,
after having réfreshed himself with a few
preliminary puffs, ‘‘that in the long, long
ago your great-great-uncle, John’ Oliver
Dalrymple, was a famous dealer in precious
stones. His little oak-paneled office was the
resort of all sorts and conditions of people
who came to buy, sell, or exchange gems,’
or merely to gossip about them with the
great expert. Now it happened that one dull
evening in the late autumn, when John way’

 

—

 

y ‘
about to leave his office and betake himself W,
to his home, there entered a heavily cloake th

man whose face was almost concealed by af
enormous handkerchief which covered his ‘
moutl), and a green shade which hung ove?

 

one of bis eyes. Bn
‘‘Without wasting words, the unknown OL
explained that he had come on a Vesse be
which had recently arrived from China. The ;
ship, it appears, had met with terrible gales, ae
had sprupg a leak, and stood in danger © i
sinking, when the captain ordered the calge ah
to be cast overboard. The order was carrie ;
out, and the ship, thus lightened, recover® dig
herself and was brought safely to p0 te sh
Among the goods thrown into the sea were 4 the
unknowD | f

all the worldly possessions of the
visitor, who, being a stranger an
friends, landed a penniless outcast.
tion stared him in the face unless

d withous 94 oi
Starva- | the
he did 4 ¥ wa

something desperate.’ ; i

Dick and I looked at one another meapy = his
ingly. We felt sure that a tragedy ot pee a
sort was looming ahead. Uncle Oliver ble fac
a great cloud of blue smoke and went OD. auc

‘‘After some conversation, the strange” tou
explained his meaning. To save himself, H@ | hel

would be forced to part with something a ya)
which he valued more than aught else ay be
world. He hesitated a moment, as if al’ :
to proceed further. Then he rose, Ope i
the door, and glanced outside, apparently ee 2. Ol
make sure that no one was listening. a et

 

     
  
   
 
    
  
   
   
    
        
        
     
     
     

ing satisfied himself on this point, be PY aj

Gated a metal box, which he carefull ‘a ap
opened, end drew forth a magnificent b ae Ng hap
pearl. The experienced eye of the gem ™ of aM Piller
chant instantly recognized its perfection tn the
shape and color, and in his own min f gro

once placed a value upon it.
“After some little haggling the peat
changed hands, and the stranger depa! ae
‘‘He had not been gone many al
when another visitor burst into the 077
The second-comer was a_horrible-
Shinaman, wizened and yellow, au ver
ing the most malignant expression that lish
man possessed. His command of Eng oD
was limited, but in broken phrases here
aged to explain that he had been TO%
and that the thief had been seen to enter =
merchant’s office. What had he lost? i.”
considerable emotion he said—a black pe ae
Uncle Oliver paused a moment, aB wok
us time to speculate upon what was ee + he
‘Tt was not the value of the pearl vat one
lamented. He confessed that it former oy
of the eyes of an idol which thousan af dian.
shiped, and of which he was the cust eae
Moreover, it was the only eye, for its Fez
panion had mysteriously disappeare 4 been
Wang Tai, as he called himself—h@ ja for
commissioned to trave! round the wor pling.
the purpose of procuring a pearl resem jned:
as closely as possible, the eye that rena ‘
In order that there should be no mista that
carried the latter with him. And apie to
had been lost, too. He dared not re ead
his own country without it, for that }
instant death. hat tbe
‘His agitation seemed so real t : him,
diamond merchant felt quite sorTy rrouD
but inasmuch as he had paid a good ans of
sum for the pearl, and he had no e true

telling whether the Celestial’s story war rom Digg,
or false, he very naturally reframe” ion thoy
admitting that he had it in bis Poury: bey ae taj),
Soon Wang Tai’s tears gave way t© ing eS Wy
raved and shrieked like a madman, the pos +

vengeance, dire and dreadful, upo? ight va" |
sessor of the stolen eye, whoever 78; be
be #2 ‘

‘ ‘ spade’ $y :

“At last Jobn Oliver _persué ut Bed) ca
troublesome visitor to go. He departed ab a tury
tering the most blood-curdling thr at-uncl moe.) tty D
.which, I am afraid, your great-gre tomers 4 # Ar
only smiled, for he was a cool ‘ n mere i 8,
and it took something more t iva 1%
words, however strong, to frighten 6 next 1%

We are busily wondering WhO). 7. meat, a)
scene would bring forth, Uncle Ov: 6 and iy b Ay
while shaking the ashes from his P Pr pacc®: 4 jth
ramming down the unconsume jous nol a the
when of a sudden there came @ CU as Wn

e
from the study beyond. It sound ned
though a window had been sudden yi ¢ the
and the curtains were flapping te
glass. We distinctly felt a draus an jously
air, Dick and I, and glancing \ ent ue,
toward the door, expected every : enter
see some one—I don’t know |) ad, ene
But no one came in; the noise C¢ po

who had appara jive

Uncle Oliver,
noticed anything unusual, @P
coal to his pipe and proceeded. tod. f
“The gem merchant was aun pad
office some days later. Bis ee dden
parted, and he was alone. Glance close
upward, he observed a hideous Ae: a8
his own, so close, indeed, Cee t to ol
touched him. One look was 8U f the repo
able him to identify the owner O° ye J?
sive features. It was Wang 14} Chip

; Son AO
Oliver could call for assistan@y 19 bi
man sprang at his throat an The pind

the ground with an awful cras™ (4 fe “so
deprived bim of consciousness nD in
not return to life for some bo pox

recovered he found that the steed prokey

which he kept his valuables oe ane: nee

open, and the black pearl ee BC prec} , |

Tai had flown with the eye ° 5 Ghee di ‘am,

gen h man 0 ate pe. "i
‘‘The merchant was 4 ervey’ ands;

vigorous will, and boundless Or at a ae Gaal

+ ther; . d
called his head officials a exclaim”
plumping down a bag of 891s —@ ©

 
22. £222 2% a

  

 

GrooDp

 

  

      
    
     
   
   
 
    
 
  
 
  
 

 

lf ‘The man who brings me the black pearl or
d ang Tai, or, better still, both, shall take
n this home with him.’ The affair got wind,
is 4 4nd soon was all the talk of the town.”’
or q ‘And who won the reward?’’ Dick asked,
y 40Xiously.
naa “Wait a moment,’’? answered Uncle
2] ae Oliver, with exasperating slowness; ‘‘I
ee aven’t got to that yet.’’
5) ae 8 both thought that we detected a re-
xf 9 Wal of the uncanny noise in the adjoining
(0°) ae Toom, but we said nothing and merely ex-
dd. changed looks.
xd ._ Some weeks elapsed without having been
t,o ae discovered, when one fine morning, who
"e ‘ould enter the gem merchant’s office but
Dae A © self-same mysterious stranger who had
it 9) =MBinally sold John Oliver the pearl. Al-
ae Sugh the day was fine and exceptionally
id | ‘arm for the season of the year, he was
: tuffled up in his thick coat, wore his scarf
a= ?¥er his mouth, and had his big shade over
18 a. Sye. His hat, too, was pulled over his
w Srshead so that scarcely a square inch of his
88 was visible.. In gruff and almost in-
ay Audible tones he exclaimed that he had
\ und the pearl, and in proof thereof he
’ held ; valaae Saad
1B haa Val; out his hand, and there was the missing
Nei a aluable in the centre of his palm.”’
id hs des hen he got the reward??? we both ex-
dG ay aimed, in a tone of disappointment.
to. 44 Ol; 0n’t be in such a hurry,’’ said Uncle |.
eh? Whe: ‘‘we haven’t got to the end yet.
O- ish lle the gem merchant stood there aston-

ee and a little suspicious, as well he might
ha’ & curious and wholly unexpected thing
plepened. A mass of papers and books top-
ddown from a shelf situated just over
ee Stranger’s head, and floored him to the
th und. John Oliver rushed forward to raise
® fallen man, and as he did so, the latter’s
anion’ wig fell off, and, behold, there was
neyo tail neatly coiled atop his head. It did
take many tninutes to pull off his scarf
arth) shade, and, behold, there lay the
nae, Wang Tai himself. John Oliver
hed the pearl from the Chinaman’s

hang : :
feted in a fit of rage, seized a

‘

‘sin hat?” we exclaimed, in chorus, with a
cgyaneous shudder.

Otipgoared off his pig-tail,’? added Uncle

calmly’ Solemnly. ‘‘Having done that, he
and 5: took Mr. Wang Tai by the shoulders
Man icked him into the street. The China-

d Paused for a moment on the threshold,
that Taising a warning finger, exclaimed
Com the pearl was enchanted, and _ that,
f0me What might, it was fated to return
tonngeY to the empty socket in the grim

®nance of the idol. It might be months,

the ets, or centuries even, but no matter
come ra no matter its wanderings, it would
he y ack, That was his parting shot. Then
Oliver Shed. And that,’? added Uncle
A te’ “was on the 31st of December——’’
Short tran’ crash from the next room cut
pra, he finish of the story. Uncle Oliver
Seized’ to his feet with an exclamation,
Stugy “Candle, and cautiously entered the
dist? ick and I following at a discreet
the ae By the flickering light we saw that
lags 2ow was wide open, and that the
Yon, .2S° Containing the relics had fallen
Dieog  8Ppointed place over the mantel-
thous’ and lay at our feet smashed into a
tai pay fragments. And although the pig-
Js tis there, the pearl had vanished. What
®, it was never seen again.
; * * * * *

eon my word,’’? says Uncle Oliver, as
rt ? y ;
calls the strange affair and puzzles over
t Came {. rily believe Wang Tai’s prophecy
(| tury “bol at last. After close upon a cen-
Its bia ® black pearl suddenly went back to

na in the head of the Chinese idol.’’

8, toy’ © Speak plainly, Dick and I believe

73

he
it,

———____ + -e-» —____
NEATLY DONE.

 

  

   

    

(QUR STAMP Eun,

(SpEcraL Notick.—To insure the safe return of
stamps sent to us for examination, correspondents
should inclose them in separate stamped envelope,
bearing name and address. The prices quoted are
from current lists, and are subject to change. ]

In an edition of postage due stamps printed
on the ordinary stamps of Chin Krang, a
Chinese treaty port, there were over thirty
different errors in spelling, etc.

* * * *

A full line of stamps for 1896 has been is-
sued by Ecuador, consisting of eight regular
postage, eight official, seven postage due,
two envelopes and two postal cards.

x t * *

A new Confederate Baton Rouge provis-
ional] 2-cent stamp has recently been discov-
ered. It has an error in the spelling, ‘‘Mc-
Cormick’? being spelled ‘‘McCermick,’’

* * * *

New South Wales has issued a special] post
card for a Sydney firm. It is on white card,
with current 1d. stamp in purple, and inscrip-
tion ‘‘Special Post Card—Issued by Author-
ity of the Postmaster-General,’’ in Hou.

* * *

Several values of the Greece commemora-
tive stamps, issued on the occasion of the
revival of the Olympic games, have appeared
here. The 1 and 2 lepta bear figures of
wrestlers, the 5 and 10 lepta bear figure of
athlete throwing discus, the 20 and 40 lepta
are larger and upright, and bear design of
avase, and the 25 lepta is large and ob-
|long, and represents- a chariot race, The
| series has been placed on the black list of the
Society for the Suppression of Speculative
Stamps.

* * * *

Ten stamps best illustrating the rise in
values for the past ten years are the U.S.
1£60 (first issnhe) 90c., 1866 3c. scarlet, 1868
8c. grilled all over, 1868 90c., 1869 90c.,
1870 24c., executive dept. 6c., justice dept.
90c., navy dept. 7c., and state dept. 90c.
In 1876 these ten stamps could be bought for
$3.56; in 1878 they were held at $4.80; in
1882 the price had risen to $6.55; in 1884 the
price was $17.25; in 1886, $21.75; in 1888,
$30.50; in 1890, $35.75; in 1892, $81.50; in
1894, $145.50; and the 1896 price is $285, with
indications of a large advance next season.

* * * *

C. M., Bluffton, Ind.—There is no pre-

mium on the 1829 half-dollar.
* * *

*
W.K. V., Media, Pa.—The pink 6c. U. 8.
stamp with Lincolti’s head sells for 5c.
* * * *

W.cC. J., Salem, [ll.—There are many
collectors willing to exchange stamps, but
we cannot give their addresses. Watch the
exchange columns of Goop NeEws, or the
various stamp papers.

* * *

C. F. H., Chicago, Ill.—During the Re-
bellion there were thousands of tokens
coined by private parties which passed cur-
rent for some time. Your coin is one of
these, and is of no special value.

* * ok

M. C., Nashville, Tenn.—There is no Congo
Free State 1c. stamp; the 1 francstamp sells
for 35c. The U. 8. Columbian 5 and 8c.
stamps, unused, are not worth over face
value at present. ‘

*

Py *

A. J.M. R., Lead, 8. D.—Stamp No. 1 is
Netherlands, 1864 issue, 15c. orange, price
25c.; No. 2 is 1872 U.S. 6c., price 10c.; No.
3 is 1884, envelope, 2c. Die A, price 5c. ;
No. 4 is Herzegovina revenue, and No. 5 is
Servian revenue. The 5 and 10c. Columbian
envelopes could be bought at the Chicago

 

 

NEWS.

 

1S

 

{This Story will not be Published in Book-For=.]

GAY DASHLEIGH IN CUBA;

The’ Plantation of the Black Ghost.

BY ARTHUR SEWALL,
Author of “Gay Dashleigh’s Academy Days.”

+.

 

 

(“Gay DASHLEIGH IN CUBA” Was commenced in
No. 311.
Agents.)

CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE FUGITIVES REPULSED THE
GARRISON.

HOW

+ HE situation in which Gay and his
| 2 companions now found themselves
‘h') was perilous in the extreme. The
* tumult had attracted the attention of
the sentries’ upon the sea-wall, and they
hastily gathered directly opposite the little
group of prisoners.

One, more quick-witted than his com-
rades, divined the truth. Elevating his car-
bine he took hasty aim at the quartet just
visible near the cart, and fired.

The vicious report was instantly followed
by a shrill cry of agony, and the sergeant,
who had been crouching in terror near the
edge of the recently excavated trench,
lurched forward into the pit.

(2

>

A groan burst from the lips of the priest, |

Dropping to his knees he began to patter in-
coherently.
like an animated top, making desperate
slashes at the air with his long-bladed knife.

‘‘Let them come on!’’ \he shouted ina
frenzy. ‘‘I’ll kill them, even I, a peaceful
professor of chemistry. Ha! ho! what would
they say at Ebb Tide if——”’

‘*We can’t stand here to be butchered like
sheep,’’ interrupted Gay, hoarsely.

He glanced helplessly around the vast
parade. Directly in front loomed the frown-
ing sea-wall guarded by the watchful sen-
tries. To the rear was the main part of the
fortress from which a number of soldiers
were rapidly approaching. Toward the left
a lofty wall skirted the bay, and on the
opposite side a double tier of casemates con-
taining siege guns controlled the approaches
from the east.

Gay’s quick eye saw that the latter place
was the only one offering even temporary
safety. Calling out to the others to follow
him he darted in that direction.

In their sudden terror the firing party had
dropped their weapons. An instinctive de-
sire to defend themselves had caused each of
the prisoners to snatch a gun from the
ground. The rifles were of the Spanish
Mauser pattern with loaded magazines con-
taining six or seven cartridges.

The possession of such powerful weapons
raised the spirits of the little group re-
markably, and they scurried across the
parade with some degree of hope. A velley
came from the septries on the sea-wall, but
the darkness rendered aim uncertain, and
the bullets whizzed harmlessly over the
fugitive’s heads.

As Gay dashed into the arched entrance of
the nearest casemate his foot caught in
some obstruction, and he sprawled headlong
to the stone floor. He was up in a second,
however. The interior of the vaulted cham-
ber was even darker than outside, and the
fleeing prisoners could not see a foot in ad-
vance.

‘‘There must be a pair of stairs some-
where leading above,’’ exclaimed the young
leader. ‘‘Feel around with your bands and
see if you can findit. If we manage to
reach the parapet we might drop down the
outer curtain, or wall.’’

‘*That’s impossible,’’? groaned the priest.
‘*The distance is too great. It is fully thirty
feet to the ground.”’

A sudden cry came from the professor.

‘‘Hamlet’s ghost! my shin is broken,’’ he
gasped. ‘‘I struck it against—hurrah! it’s
the bottom of the stairs.’’

A rush was made in his direction. As Gay
hurried through the darkness he brushed
against a peculiar feeling object. Reaching
out he touched a coil rope, f

‘*‘Jumping Moses! who is carrying that?’’
he asked, delightedly. ‘‘ Where did it come
from?”’

‘‘Mum-mum-me carrying it, mum-mas-
ter,’’? placidly replied Ko-ko. ‘‘You f-fall
plenty over it, a-a~-and mum-me pick h-him
up. We use h-h-him p-plenty good.’’

‘It will save our lives if we can manage
to gain the roof of this casemate. Up with
you!”’

Gay was the last to scramble up the
stairs. As he reached the top step he heard
a hubbub on the lower floor, then, with ex-
cited shouts and a clattering of arms, a
number of soldiers rushed into the case-
mate.

‘““They have retreated’ above,’’ cried a
voice in Spanish. ‘‘After them, men. Shoot
the traitors on sight.’?

Directly over the stairs was another flight
leading to the upper parapet. It was quite
narrow, and the wooden hand-rail was
shaky with age. As Gay hurriedly ascended

”

 

A eer as post-office a short time ago. ,

boty tory Comes from Germany, containin Y ia i P
lhgy, “Struction and biuret A B hont W. MeN., Lexington, Ky.—Stamp No. 1
tomy tor Visited the burgomaster t's, Little eta eae ane ne wend ia

ection ask his company on a tour ot in- Spanish,.1876 ae; pains 1G. ;
gocens “ter, rath gh the schools. The burgo-) gq g, P., Sun Prairie, Wis.—Your stamps
o) wey Has er out of sor ts, muttered: i lued foll :N 1, U.S. Be. 1869
sl at this donkey come again?” iy oN , 9 Gh; t Brit : Pt seh iva ts ’
HOW agat*Peotor heard but said nothing, and| 2} No, ®, Grent Britain iss 4a. wrapper,
ber 4 188 ing @ ® two visited the school. When le.: No. 4 1875 2¢ vermilion, Ic.’ No 5,
and tgs gor was introduced to the teacher, 1861 8c “rose Aas No 6, 1861 le blue 4c :
pot lation .° Was curious to see how well punc- No. 7. 1857. 3c.. 1c.: No.8 1882 én. rad Be.
live ) Pose Was taught. The burgomaster inter- | BAS Aaa i - SaaS cai
pis ~ Mothin yt mind that,’’? said he; ‘‘we care} P.I.G., Plymouth, Ind.—The envelope
qf beaut seg commas and such trifles.’’ you send is 1864 issue, 8c,, on buff, price 5c.
nly - Y to ® inspector insisted, and ordered a Of the stamps, No. 3 is 1861 Ic., price 4e. ;
Bake ie EN Write on the blackboard : Nos. 2 and 5 are 1861 8c. rose, price le. ,
jst Orig a brgomaster of R. says the inspec-| No. 1 is 1863 2c., price 4c.; No. 7 is 1872 1c.,
eo: then on ey,’? price 10c.; Nos. 6 and 8 are 3c., 1873, price
pul- iy ipation © ordered him to change the punc-| l¢.; No. 4 is 1893 Columbian issue, Ic.,

ob? Te Pecto, Y placing a comma after R. and| price lc. / ; a

a ¥ The S aking the sentence read: a ; r
tO. is g ‘i Tgomaster of R., says the inspec-| H. G. C., Pleasant Hill, Mo.—We return
low Tani Onkey,»? your stamps with retail prices marked un-
did By Do QE to the burgomaster, he asked: der each. ead letter office franks are not
| be ‘talt weet See, now, the value of a comma?’?| included in stamp catalogues and albums.
TNS ~ mstpno 8 cruel lesson, but it is reasonable| A grill is a design of small points impressed
od tion "4 hat punctuation rose in the esti-| on the backs of many stamps#the object
ang Res ® burgomaster from that day. | being to break the surface of the paper, so
jous Ae ie that the ink of the canceling stamp would
a q me ‘hily ny penetrate the paper and render any at-

x} @ mqmagny ying ‘*house’’)—‘*‘Now, I’ll be, tempts to clean the stamps ineffectual.

y “Weessio weet ll be papa, and little Ben} a 5 , p
a Mig ( ill be our babies,’ | F.C. M., Mason City, Neb.—The 25c.
“Ut it ag er a moment. anxiously) — black on rose French stamp sells for 2c.; all

/ — Out time to whip the children?’’ the others at lc. each.

 

 

after his companions, he exerted his strength
and tore the latter away,

: , e | enthusiasm.
Back numbers can be obtained of all News | ;

 

}

}
|

;

 

‘*One good man can hold the steps against
a host,’? he muttered to himself. ‘‘If it
comes to the point I can do it while the
others make their escape.’’

On reaching the top he ordered Ko-ko
and the priest to arrange the rope; then,
together with Professor Gasse, he took his
stand at the head of the stairs.

‘*Wait until they cluster at the bottom,
then let them have it as fast as you can
work the trigger,’’ he whispered, grimly.

**T’]] do itif the gun kicks my shoulder
into splinters,’’ replied the professor with
‘*‘Dashleigh, you know that I
am a peaceful man, but I’Jl let daylight
through those—er—brutés of soldiers if I
die for it. A pretty position this for—er—
Professor Gasse, fellow of the Society of
Science, and——’’

‘*Sh-h-h! here they come,’’ hastily inter-
rupted Gay, whose keen ear had caught the
sounds of footsteps on the floor below.
‘*Aim carefully and fire when I give the
word. Steady, don’t point that muzzle at
me; one, two—let them have it!’’

The two reports blended as one, then after
an interval of several seconds the Mausers
spoke again. Sbrill cries of agony came from
the darkness below, followed by a confused
shouting of many voices, then unmistakable
sounds of a hasty retreat came to the ears
of those upon the parapet.

‘*That’s the ticket,’’ exclaimed Gay, tri-
umphantly. ‘‘The dose of cold lead was too
much for them. Listen! they are running
ous into the parade. How is the rope, Ko-
so???

‘“*Him

a-a-almost r-ready, mum-mum-

( | master,’’ replied the Jap. ‘‘Mum-me tie um
Professor Gasse whirled about |

t-t-to other s-s-side, then a-all plenty hurry
down.’?

‘‘Make haste about it; we haven’t any
time to lose.’’

A scattering volley came from the sentries
stationed on the sea-wall, who were separated
from the parapet where the fugitives had
found shelter by an open space, but the bul-
lets passed harmlessly overhead.

Down below, upon the parade, a prodig-~
ious hubbub proclaimed that the repulse of
the garrison had caused great excitement.
A number of shots were fired at the edge of
the parapet, but it was so much ammunition
wasted. Suddenly the castle bell sent out a
frenzied clangor, and a moment later one of
the siege guns on the opposite side of the
parade was fired.

‘‘Whew! they mean to alarm the whole
city,’? remarked Gay. :‘‘The cowards! are
they afraid of four persons?’?’

‘*T shall incorporate this brave defense in
my forthcoming work on military affairs,’’
said Professor Gasse, pompously. ‘‘It will
make a thrilling chapter, and what a mag-
nificent subject for illustrating! The people
of America will read with pride of how a
man:--a professor of chemistry with no pre-
vious experience — courageously held tbe
stairs against a whole garrison of Spanish
soldiers. Hum! On poured the savage troops,
armed to the teeth. ‘Back! dogs!’ thun-
dered the brave professor. Raising his trusty
rifle, he’——ouch! murder!”’

At that interesting moment Gay, disgusted
at his venerable tutor’s boasting, slyly in-
serted the sharp point of his knife into the
calf of the professor’s left leg. At the same
second a rifle-shot was fired from the sea-
wall. The sound of the report and the simul-
taneous pain caused Gasse to conclude that
he had been wounded.

He fell to the floor of the parapet, and
raised his shrill voice in doleful lamenta-
tions. ‘

‘Oh! oh-h-h! cut off in the flower of my
youth,’’ he howled. ‘‘I am a dead professor,
Oh! I do not want to die just now. Dash-
leigh, if you love me, fetch a doctor. I’m
bleeding to death. Oh! oh-h!”’

‘Shut up, or I’ll throw you down the
steps,’’ cried Gay, with a grin. ‘‘You are
not wounded, confound you. Get up and
fight, the soldiers are coming again.’’ ~

‘*Rope r-r-ready, mum-master,’’ called
out Ko-ko just then. ‘‘You g-g-go first,’?

‘*Not a bit of it. Down with you; I’ll hold
this place until you are all safe. No—don’t
talk ‘back now. Get the padre over, then
follow as fast as you can.”’ i

A pious exclamation of thanks came from
the priest, then a series of grunts proclaimed
that he was trying to lower his fat little
body over the jagged edge of the parapet.
A suspicious noise in the lower casemate
warned Gay that the soldiers were approach-

ing.

Bidding the professor slip down the rope
after Ko-ko, he crouched at the top of the
stairs and awaited developments.

CHAPTER XXIX.

PROFESSOR GASSE AND THE SNAKE.
E was not kept long in suspense. A
Hel shrill whistle sounded down on the
! } parade, then a terrific fire was
opened on the parapet. At the same
moment a number of soldiers pressed up the
stairs. Sheltered by the massive stone edg-
ing, Gay coolly pumped lead into the ad-
vancing enemy.

Crack! crack! went his Mauser, the light-
ning-like flashes succeeding one another with
incredible rapidity. Emptying oné rifle he
snatched up another. The mass of men on
the stuirs wavered, terrified at the wither-

 

  
  

.

-utable channels he would make his mark.’’

 

|

ing fire, then they surged backward and
broke.

Those in front sought to escape from the |
deadly bullets, and in the scramble the whole |
mob surged over the edge of the stairs where |
Gay had destroyed the railing. |

The lad took instant advantage of the res-
pite thus afforded. Dropping his gun, he
felt his way to where the rope was tied. ‘To
crawl over the edge of the parapet was the
work of a second. Down, down, hand over
hand, he swung, dropping at last up to his
neck in foul-smelling water.

He struck out boldly and soon reached the
edge of the moat, Ko-ko and the professor
assisted him to dry land with many excla-
mations of joy.

‘* Are we all here?’’ hurriedly asked Gay.
‘*Professor???

‘‘Present, and glad of it,’’? cheerfully re- |
plied the scientist.

‘* Padre???

There was no answer. Gay called out
again, but with like result, Thinking the
priest might have swooned from terror, he
made a hurried search: of the vicinity, as-
sisted by his companions, but no trace of the
missing man could be found.

‘*He’s skipped, I guess. I suppose he ran
away as fast as his legs could carry him the
moment he touched ground, Well, we can’t
wait here. Come; we will skirt the shore.’’

Stumbling over the uneven ground, they
made their way to the near-by beach. Their
departure was opportune. The black shad-
ows of Morro Castie’s walls were barely left
behind when a company of troopers sallied
forth from the gates and established a cor-
don of guards along the eastern moat.

Lights appeared upon the parapet where
the rope had been fastened. The fortress
bell again pealed an alarm, and another gun
was fired as;a signal to the surrounding
country.

‘-We are not out of the woods by any
means,’’ muttered Gay, with a hasty glance
backward. ‘‘Soldiers will be sent in all
directions, and the whole province scoured
for us. Shake a leg, professor; can’t you
run any faster???’

‘‘Dashleigh, I am not as youthfulas you,’?
replied Gasse, with a groan. ‘‘My—wind
is not all it—it should be, you know.’’

‘‘He r-r-run better when s-s-soldiers see
um,’’ grinned Ko-ko. ‘‘They come p-p-plenty
quick, too.”?

Fortunately the sandy beach was firm to
the foot, and good time was made for the
first half hour. After a brief rest, the flight
was resumed and cortinued at intervals until
dawn,

The first rays of the morning sun revealed
a scattered fishing hamlet in front of the
fugitives. Just off shore was a small wooded
island which appeared to be uninhabited.
It seemed an ideal place of refuge to Gay,
and he resolved to rest there during the day-
light hours.

As the distance was not over eight hun-
dred yards, he boldly plunged into the surf
and swam across the little strait. After some
hesitation, Professor Gasse followed. Ko-ko
brought up the redr. The three landed in
safety, and were soon concealed jin the cen-
tre of the little island. *

While removing his clothing for the pur-
pose of dryihg them in the sun, Gay came
across the paper he had taken from Munson
Ferris’ pocket upon the parade in Morro
Castle. He opened it carelessly, and found
that it was a letter.’ He had not read more
than three lines before he uttered an ex-
clamation of surprise,

‘‘Jumping Moses! this is great,’’ he said.
‘*Tt’s a ngte from Munson to Allibone. Pro-
fessor, just listen to this:

“‘DRAR ALLIBONE:—I reached Havana this
evening and found that Dashleigh has been
arrested as a spy by General Campos. I knew
what that meant, and I went to the Captain-
General at once to plead for his life. Not that
I care a snap of my finger for the fellow, but
we can’t afford to lose him until he ponys up a
little of his wealth. My ring from Muerto
secured me an immediate audience, and I go to
Morro Castle with a respite for Dashleigh. Am
writing this On the boat crossing the Bay. Will
add further news after I settle the business.
The more [ think of it the better I like our
change of plan. The island idea was all right,
but the plantation is more safe. Dashleigh, if
he escapes, would surely remember what you
said about the little island off the coast near
Cienfuegos, but he would never think of look-
ing for his sweetheart on the Plantation of the
Black Ghost. Keep yourself well concealed,
and take good care of the charming Bessie. I
will try to get this off by morning.’”

\**Dear* me, they have taken the girl to
that horrible place!’’ exclaimed Professor
Gasse.

‘*Hurrah! I have a sure clew at last!’’
cried Gay, dancing a jig in his glee. ‘‘My!
how glad: I am I took this paper from Mun-
son. It’s worth a fortune to me. We will
leave this place as soon as it is dark, and
get Jack, then we’ll descend upon that
scoundrel Allibone, and rescue*Bessie. Bless
her dear heart! she must think I have for-
saken her.’’

‘«Phem p-p-people n-n-no fools,’’ remarked
Ko-ko, sagely. ‘‘It great i-idea, hide um
on n-n-nigger ghost plantation, ’/

‘‘Oh, Allibone has a heap of sense, ’’ re-
plied Gay, re-reading the precious letter.
‘*If he would only turn his talents into rep-

 

‘*So he intended to save your life, eh?’

said the professor, lazily stretching himself

out in the sun. ‘‘Humph! has Munson re-
formed at last?’?

‘‘Not a bit of it, He’d laugh to see me
hanging from a tree. He wants a few dol-
lars, that’s all. He won’t get any just yet.’’

‘‘Why did he call out that he wished to
search our bodies?’’

‘*To see if there wasn’t a bank-book upon
me, I suppose. All he got was a cracked
head. I wonder if Jack is with Gomez now?
I hope he is, as I don’t wish to lose any time
hunting—what under the sun is the matter?”’

The professor had scrambled to his feet
with an awful yell. Clinging to his left leg
was a long, greenish-hued snake. It was
tightly wound around the member, and its
flat head waved back and forth in evident
anger.

‘‘Murder! help! oh! oh-h!’’ howled Gasse,
holding his arms in the air. ‘‘Save me, save
me! Dashleigh, if you love me, take the hor-
rid thing away.”’

Gay was startled at first, but he recognized
the reptile as one of a harmless species called
maja, and he began to laugh at the profes-
sor’s sorry plight.

‘‘Ow! take it away,’’ pleaded Gasse.
‘‘Dashleigh, Ko-ko, some one, save me from
the viper.”’

‘‘T’d rather not touch it if it is the same
to you,’’ replied Gay, in pretended terror.

‘‘Mum-mum-me no do it f-f-for plenty
money,’’ said Ko-ko, taking his cue from
his master.

The professor’s legs gave way, and he slip-
ped down to a sitting position in the grass.
The change of attitude brought the snake’s
head within an inch of his nose, and its
forked tongue shot in and out with light-
ning-like rapidity.

‘*Tt wants to kiss you, sir,’’ chuckled Gay,
holding his sides. ‘‘Stroke its dear little
head, and maybe it will leave.”?

‘*T’)] never forgive you fov this, Dash-
leigh,’’ groaned the professor. ‘‘I am dy-
ing now. The beast is venomous, and it has
killed me. My blood be on—— Whoop!
ouch! murder !’?

At that interesting moment the snake
softly dabbed him upon the cheek with its
slimy hood. The touch sent a regiment of
cold chills up the professor’s spinal column,
and he leaped to his feet with a yell that
shook the palm leaves overhead.

The sudden movement dislodged the rep-
tile, and it fell to the ground with a vicious
hiss.

‘*Run, sir; while you can,’’ gasped Gay.
‘*Scoot; it’s after you.’’

The professor needed no second invitation.
His legs fairly twinkled as he flew across
the open space to a lofty palm tree. Gras-
ping the rough bark, he climbed the trunk
ike a monkey,eand was speedily out of
reach.

Taking a stick, Ko-ko killed the snake,
and tossed it into the bushes, then he and
his master sat down and finished their laugh
in comfort. After awhile, Gasse descended,
and donned his clothing in dignified silence.

CHAPTER XXX.

HOW GAY WAS WELCOMED BY THE INSUR-
GENT CHIEF.

>

m4“ ORTLY before dark Ko-ko climbed a
Ss palm at Gay’s request and madea
“Y close scrutiny of the beach, Some-
7 thing moving in the direction of Hav-
ana caught his eye, and he finally made out
a company of Spanish soldiers marching
along a road running parallel with the sea.

“‘They c-c-come, mum-master,’’ he ex-
claimed, dropping to the ground. ‘‘ Plenty
men ¢ c-come look f-f-for us. Mum-me see
h-h-hundred.”’

‘‘Merey on us!’’ cried the professor, his
expansive face blanching. ‘‘They will surely
search this island.’’

‘‘T am afraid so,’’ gravely replied Gay.
‘“Tf they hold off until it is dark enough, we
must reach the shore and skip. TD ll slip up
and watch them.’’

When he had reached a sufficient elevation
he glanced across the tops of the dense growth
of bushes, and saw a party of mounted
troops riding slowly along the beach.

They drew rein opposite the island, and
an officer—evideutly the commander of the
company—pointed across the little strait
with his whip, and said something to one of
his subordinates. Several soldiers rode on to
the fishing village, and presently reappeared
around a point of landi n a boat.

‘That settles it,’’ muttered Gay, uneasily.
‘‘They intend to search this island.’’

He saw’ with some satisfaction that night
was rapidly falling. The short tropic twi-
light had already commenced; in less than
a half hour it would be quite dark.

He watched the soldiers row their small
craft ashore where the troops were gathered,
then he saw a junior officer and another
private embark. They took their time about
it, and thé shades of night were settling fast
when the boat finally set out for the island.

Hurriedly descending to the ground, the
lad acquainted his companions with the
news.

‘*We can’t swim ashore now,’’ he added.
‘“The soldiers are stretched along the beach
for five hundred yards. We must play mon-
key for awhile.’’

“You do not expect me to climb one of

 
 

: those horrid trees and perch upon a limb, I

am sur'e,’? objected the professor.

GOOD NEWS.

 

 

Gay laughed grimly.

‘‘Stay where you are if it pleases you,”’
he carelessly replied. ‘‘Come, Ko-ko, up
with you. Climb as high &s you can, and
don’t leave your perch until the soldiers re-
turn to the sbore.’’

‘¢Professor, him g-g-get up um t-tree
plenty fast when h-h-him snake chase um,”’
grinned the Jap as he skilfully ascended the
trunk of a giant palm. ‘‘Um come bimeby.’?

‘‘T must insist on your showing me more
respect, my good man,’ retorted Professor
Gasse, severely. ‘‘Dashleigb, I shall be un-
der the painful necessity of parting company
with you if you do not correct the habits of
your valet.’’

‘*You’ll part company quick enough if
you stay down there,’’ chuckled Gay, as he
followed Ko-ko’s example.

Gasse evidently concluded ut he was
right, as he lost no time in Iéaving the
ground. The party of soldiers presently
landed and made a noisy search of the
island. They thrust their bayonets into the
bushes, and threshed the tall grass for sey-
eral minutes; then they returned to the
mainland, convinced that the spot was un-
occupied.

Gay and his companions descended in due
time, and spent the night alternately sleep-
ing and watching the twinkling campfires
of the soldiers. Atdaybreak the troops were
still there. As night approached again, the
young leader concluded to make a desperate
attempt to escape.

‘‘We might as well run the risk of capture
as stay here and starve,’’ he said, ruefully,
‘‘My stomach is as flat as a pancake.’’

‘¢And I feel as if I hadn’t tasted food for
years,’’ sighed the professor. ‘‘I am nearly
dead for a drink, too.’

‘‘T guess you would even take awater,”’
grinned Gay. ‘‘ Although that is hardly pos-
sible. Well, we’ll try her after dark,”’

An hour later the three quietly slipped
into the sea and swam in a diagonal direc-
tion for the shore. They landed without mis-
hap about midway between the soldiers’
camp and the fishing village. ‘Just as they
were mentally congratulating themselves
on their good luck a dozen troopers rose up
in front of them,

‘“Quien vive??? called out one, sharply.

Gay did not pause’ to answer the chal-
lenge. Calling to the others to follow, he
darted down the beach as fast as his legs
could carry him, He heard sounds of pur-
suit, but the athletic training he had re-
ceived helped him to sprint out of danger.

After awhile he slackened speed, and
called out for the professor and Ko-ko. To
his dismay, he received no reply.

‘*T hope to goodness they have not been
captured,’’ he muttered» ‘‘Confound it! it
was just our luck to” blunder upon that
party of soldiers, I might have guessed that
some of them would be along the beach at
this hour turning turtles,’’

In the distance he heard a confused shout-
ing as of men calling loudly one to another.
He realized full well that safety could only
be secured by instant flight, but the lad was
too loyal to abandon his friends without
some effort to assist them.

Cautiously retracing his steps, he finally
reached a place near the fishing village. He
saw a number of lights flickering about upon
the beach, but there was no sign of either
the professor or Ko-ko. Watching his
chances, he crept within hearing distance of
a group composed of a sergeant and several
privates.

A few words of their conversation was
sufficient to convince him that both had
made good their escape. With a much
lighter heart, Gay slipped away, and plunged
into the brush.

He traveled almost constantly until day-
light, at which time a rough calculation told
him that he had placed at least twenty-five
miles between the Spanish troopers and him-
self. His next thought was of food,

“Tf I don’t get something to eat pretty
soon I?ll have to surrender for the sake of
my stomach,’’ he muttered, whimsically.
‘*T could about chew the hind leg of a dog.
If Mascot were here he'd be in grave dan-
ger,’?

Espying a faint tracery of smoke hovering
over a small forest of trees in front, he
boldly advanced, and found a small adobe
hut in the centre of a small clearing planted
with sugar cane. ' Rendered desperate by
hunger, he made his way to the door and
knocked.

It was opened by a stalwart peon, who,
on seeing the ragged clothes and general dis-
reputable appearance of his visitor, made
haste to'slam the door.. His purpose was
frustrated by Gay. Placing one foot on the
threshold, the lad flourished his knife, and
said sternly in Spanish: |

‘*Permit me to enter, senor. Iam hungry,
and I must have food. I am a fugitive from
Havana, and I am looking for General
Gomez’s command. Will you refuse aid to
one who has fought for free Cuba?’’

Gay bad not misjudged his man. The
words had peas effect. The peon’s scowl-
ing face rélaxed into a smile, and he cor-
dially invited his visitor to enter. After
placing a generous meal of fried plantains,
hominy and hot coffee before Gay, he made
the welcome announcement that the main
insurgent army was in camp near San Jose,
a small village not ten miles distant.

The intelligence caused Gay to bolt his

 

’ sports, including base-b:

| 2. Three times a week is ra

; sixteen
4

food, and set out forthwith. In due time
he reached the outskirts of the camp, By
countering Ignacio among the first troopers
seen. The Cuban welcomed bim joyfully,
and escorted him to headquarters at once.

Confident of a generous reception, the
young leader walked up to General Gomez,
whom he espied in conversation with several
staff officers. Politely saluting, he said, with
military brevity :

‘*T beg to report for duty, siv.’’

Quick as a flash the insurgent commanders
in-chief wheeled upon him. His usually
pleasant face was distorted with anger.
Raising one hand, he shook his clinched
at Gay and thundered: ;

‘‘So you bave returned at last, traitor.
You are bold to trust yourself to my mereya
What fate did I tell you would be the cet
tain reward of one who treacherously ©
our secrets? Has the pool of snakes in the
black swamp of Zapata no terrors for you
Seize him, guards!’’

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

 

oo eo en
Que, Mai ‘BAG.

(Questions on subjects of general interest only im
dealt with in the ‘‘Mail Bag.” Medical or legal ao
tions not answered. Goon News goes to press .
weeks in advance of date of publication, anc
fore answers cannot appear until two or thre
after we receive them. Communications inten ‘
this column should be addressed Goon NEWS
Bag,” P. O, Box 2734, New York City,

o-

Ourious, Boston, Mass.—The explanation of the fled
signals of the weather bureau is as follows: 7) ip
White flag, six feet square, indicates clear ticates
weather. No. 2. Blue flag, six feet square, ine ralle
rain or snow. No. 8 White and blue flag oe that
bars of white and blue), six feet square, indicates n-
local rains or showers willoccur, and that tbe ie
fall will not be general. No. 4. Black ee ;
flag, four feet at the base and six feet in ve
always refers to temperature; when placed, whell
Nos, 1, 2, or 3 it indicates warmer weathers r
placed below Nos. 1, 2, or 3 it indicates re that
weather; when not displayed, the indications aad
the temperature will remain stationary, oe wn flY
change in temperature will not vary more the in
degrees from the temperature of the same how e
preceding day from June to August, inclusiv =
degrees from November to March, inclusive; ntbs
more than six degrees for the remaining a Ww
the year. No, 5. White flag, six feet saut 's aden
black flag in centre, indicate the approach 0 a ysually
and decided fall in temperatures, an ‘ e
ordered at least twenty-four hours in advan’ D
cold wave. When No. 4 is displayed, No, 4 18
omitted.

of
always

4

INTERPRETATION OF DISPLAYS :

No, 1, alone, indicates fair weather, stationary :

perature. tiona'd
No, 2, alone, indicates rain. or snOW, sta

temperature, . » tem

No, 3. alone, indicates local rain, stationary

tem-

ery

perature, F reath'
No. 1, with No. 4 above it, indicates falr We :
warmer. athels
No. 1, with No. 4 below it, indicates falt we 3
colder, yeathels
No, 2, with No, 4 above it, indicates warmer
rain or snow. der weather
No. 2, with No. 4 below it, indicates col cae
rain or snow, k weat
No, 3, with No, 4 above it, indicates warmer nave
with local rains, weather”
No.3, with No. 4 below it, indicates colder ‘
with local rains. rt ther, col
No, 1, with No. 5, indicates fair wea id
wave, f y, ©
No. 2, with No. 5, indicates wet weathel
wave. rp"
f sha
J. J., Wheaton, Il.—The simplest method OF or, 10.

: , a vin wat
ening a razor is to put it for half an how a ve

which has been added one twentieth 0}: Pass
muriatic or sulphuric acid, then lightly wis here sul,
after a few hours set iton a hone. The ae whole
plies the place of a whetstone, by corrodint oy nan ™
surface uniformly, so that nothing fur gg neve” a
smooth polish is necessary. ‘The proce 0 a n
jures good blades, while the badly nasdene fsuee
frequently improved by it, although thes, oN

; ine hb j
improvement remains unexplained. d part
sharpening here indicated would e foun

larly advantageous for sickles and sey thes: pr oth
C. H. H,, Syracuse, N. Y.—Col. Willams "gunke

rs t
who so distinguished himself at the battle ° fer the
Hill, served in the army for two yomthe pat
battle, and was present as a volunteer 2 t
Saratoga in 1777. He was fifty years 0 ned
After the battle of Saratoga, he retary the
Massachusetts and subsequently t
ture of that State for several years.
Dave Selkirk, Fort Worth, Texas.—
in the Snow” was commenced in Ne f
in No, 205, 2 ‘The White King of 4°° 7 ho copay
No. 226 to No, 238 inclusive, 3. We Dae are eae of
the papers contained in Vol. 2. 1 th
out of print. 4. The story begun on {where
the first number of Goop News was
His Money,” by Oliver Optic.
Jack, Jr., Marion, Iowa.—l.
Sewall, care of Street & Smith. ay
of her territory and is obliged to Pie
demnity to Japan, 8, You will obser
by Harvey: Hicks is commence
4. The war between Cuba and Spain ie" we
5. Your handwriting can be improve othing that vor.
M. D. R,, Orange, N. J.—There 18 peoursel! td an
know of which you can do to make nes nere is
Nature refuses’ point-blank some ge nd t ould
inch to a boy’s height atter a certain Af iq who
no medical man or surgeon in the ‘alii ur
help such a boy to grow into & big ve f
Alan Berkeley, Omaha, Neb
known” was the wie artes oe i
Waverly novels, while as ye A 0
to Walter Scott as the new ane BY exit
works had so Os acquired Ss i
nary degree ot popularity. rou pre Moor
P: F. OC., Newport, R. L.—1. our nandW. gon.
average. 2. Fora boy of your ager srurray ott rem
is very good indeed. 3. iia pid ¥ for ne?
4. We will consider your reques® othe!
“Slack-Wire Zip?” 6, Thank you
kind opinion.
Electric Lad, Detroit,

the
vying

0
Mich.—). 4 stom
], will be
“ ther too ofte is
8. Shaving p
know O}-
Not at P

to shave.
. No. 5. No, not that we

A. M. BE. Elroy, Wis.—1.

 

      
      
    
   
  
 
 
   
  
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
   
  
  
    
  
 
  
  
    
    
  
  
    
 
  
  
   
 
  
 
    
 
  
    
   
   
   
 
  
  
 
  
   
 
 
 
  
  
    
 
   
  
  
  
 
  
  
  
 
   
   
   
  
  
 
   
 
    
  
  
   
 
   
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
  
   
   
   
  
  
  
 

 

 

 

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TR

é layg,

Hot
Po
4 Dayal

——_

Shall have them shortly. 2. St. George Rathborne
has Written for Goop News: “The Gulf Cruisers,’’
Reckless Carl,” and, **'The Rival Canoe Boys.”
» We do not expect to have a serial by the author
named,

J, §., Paterson, N. J.—The percentage in the Na-
tional League games is figured from the number of
ames won out of the total number of games played.
Or instance, if a club plays twelve games, wins nine
fnd loses three, their percentage is nine-twelfths
Or .750,

There was
oro

aha

Gay Dashleigh, Emporia, Kan.—1. an
article on “How to take a bicycle tour’ in No, of
Soop News. This is probably what you refer to.
ae Shall begin a story of summer sports next

  

a0. F., Muscatine, Iowa.—When the stopper ofa
Blass bottle is too tight, a cloth wet with hot water
4nd applied to the neck will cause the -glass to ex-
Pand, and the stopper may be removed.

Young Republican, Leominster, Mass.—The elect-
~ral vote for president in 1892 was as follows: Cleve-
8nd, 277; Harrison, 145; and Weaver, the Populist
Candidate, 22.
N » H. G., Sydney, Cape Breton—To form a Goop
EWS club, call. a meeting, decide upon your object,
your name, your fees, etc,, and elect your officers,
hee: C. McV., Albany, N. Y.—The club button has
ie Sentto you. Your exchangeis contrary to our
Hles, Read notice at head of exchange column.
mee D, R., Knoxville, Tenn.—“Thus conscience doth
mance cowards of us all” appears in Hamlet’s famous
loquy beginning ‘To be or not to be.”
i 7. ©., Richmond, Va.—‘‘Greater New York”
ti l be the second largest city in the world, surpass-
18 Paris and coming next to London.
ti D. 0C., Lisle, N. Y,—You must mention what ar-
“Se you have toexchange. Send revised notice,
d We shall be pleased to print it.
Veofrey, Rutland, Vt.—To prevent boots from
Squeaking, boil linseed oil and saturate the soles with
& Same.
me D, W., Jerseyville, I11.—Your questions in regard
Coins will be answered in “Our Stamp Album.’”’
a W. F., Lake Park, Washington.—We think that
‘pains you can improve your penmanship.

Sih rofessoy Gasse, Bl Paso, Texas.—Marvard is the
€st, It was founded in 1638. Yale in 1701,

ae T., Butte, Mont.—The capital of Japan is Tokio,
that of China, Pekin.
A. J. 8., Boston, M:é E ill fi your r 3
++, BOS , Mass.—You will find your request
Stanted yery shortly.

wegen communications left over to be answered next

—_——_—__—<- 0—@

AMON

Goon News ‘Guss.

a eacapalipeetatighetd

ypabectar NOvTICE,—This column is for Goop
exour Clubs only. No notices will be inserted
lot euue such as are genuine Goon News Club
Ment aaa nothing in the shape Of an advertise-
have thet be allowed, Every club notice should
the él} 1© nAInes of the president and secretary of
00D tb attached. For information concerning
Vert) NkEWs Club Badge and Electrotypes see ad-
MeMent on last page. }

IMPORTANT NOTICE. .

of response to requests from a very large number
Goan Nuembers, we have decided to reorganize

lit ga, WS Clubs, giving a number to each. None
ask Une Goop NEws clubs will be accepted. We
Doss] ih Secretaries to communicate with us as soon as
ligt of Kg giving the name of the club, together with a
TOtg ane officers. The numbers will be assigned in

6 28 the letters are recetved.
Ih yep, OUId also like to have the opinion of officers
Senora to formring a committee which shall have a
8overy Supervision of all the clubs, a sort of central
tis Ment, as it were.
desinnpot? Wish to make Goop News clubs the most
SUggas le in all clubdum, and we shall gladly receive
tions as to means to effect that end. ;

-

aa CLUB CHAT. Ee
ely” t forget to apply for a branch number for your

1
Tot’ Long Grove 2 yews, published at Long Grove,
h "1S & very good amateur paper,
h a diterary Era, the third number of which is at
i} S Well printed and excellently edited.
With ant editors and publishers of papers connected
J, ile OD Nrws clubs please send a copy to Alfred
The Y, 21 Winthrop avenne, Beachmont, Mass.
Oly on eo? Neéws Historical and Corresponding
“ficeng Lynn, Mass., has recently been formed. The
Viger are H, Briggs, president; Geo. Wadsworth,
Measy nent, and Albert J. Arroll, secretary and
Tha ®Y. See notice below.
Np Ws cprance with the reorganization of the Goop
Pondin ‘bs, the Goon News Universal and Corre-
nq elec, Club of Springfield, Mass., has reorganized
Pollesta ed the following officers: President, Geo. L.
an ay Vice-President, N. R. Dorman; Secretary
The are’) B, A, Stickles.
Thy I, M. P. A. C. have numbered their mem-

The tou ® first members did not receive a number.
Readin Wing is their number: 1. Burrett J. Clizbo,
tre, Mich, 2. Cc. W. Lentwein, 64 Seventh

6 ’
Went aan Arbor, Mich. 3. 8. A. Perkins, Bluefield,
Ran y yt ,lV. I. Davis, Bluefield, West Va. 5,
Rye are is Fink, Box 250, Mishawaka, Ind, The
Md Order ; he Only members that were not numbered.

) Homer Martin, secretary, Clinton, Mo.

Vhen CLUB NOTICES.
oe San pou Join the Golden Gate Goop Nrws Club
ow} have sisco, Cal., you may rest assured that
h wee right thing done by you. Yes, this is
lig Orla “eh has so many members in all parts of
® clu}, - ou know the oldest, best and most re-
In existe the West—in fact, the best Goop News
10 €nee, Remember our initiation fee is but
to Mberg "ts; no dues, List of members, card of
axeVery it ete., to all joining. Handsome presents
tensive hone joining. We now have a large and
Qo eest Cities of members, embracing some of the
op ith Amer} of Europe, Asia, and Africa, North and
ca. Ifyou wish to gain some knowledge
diffora best way to do it is to take a trip
ao tens Places of interest; but as everybody
With po the next best thing to do is to corre-
Whi em young people in foreign countries, and
et ch they vive you a description of the country in
alse? in this w Ve. 5 You can also exchange stamps,
Ahoy Sreat on This is not only instructive but is
Ug ther One »easure, and very interesting. Here is

*

tone World the

th e@ ;
8}. 18 ino; Our grand offers: To the one sending
hang St members before July 1, 1896, we will send

Ney, 80
Xt one 2? ook of views of the World’s Fair, to the
Ok of California views, aud to the third

 

 

GrooDpD

a handsome bound book. Of course you want to join
a corresponding club, Well, join this up-to-date
Western one. You can’t afford to miss this chance of
your lifetime. Members wanted .in New York,
Chicago, Bostog, Columbus, Cleveland, Philadelphia,
Baltimore, and San Francisco, Cal. ; also in all foreign
countries, We lead, and those who can, follow.
Joseph F. Kelly, president; Frank W. Raymond,
vice-president ; George A, Dolan, secretary; Charles
W. Miller, treasurer. For full particulars kindly in-
close stamp, and address the secretary, George A.
Dolan, 781 Harrison street, San Francisco, Cal.

Don’t read this if you don’t wish to join a club.
Club officers are bothered to death by inquisitive in-
quirers asking; How much is your fee? How many
members? etc,, etc, .We always answer these ques-
tions, but it is money thrown away. It is not very
much, but small sums amount to large ones m a short
while. We think all officers will agree with us upon
this subject. Our club is a mailers and distributors’
society, known as the G. N, I. M. P, A. We respect-
fully invite all mailers and Goop Nrws readers to
become members of this organization, We also want
to establish local branches. The first member send-
ing the required fee, and wishing to organize a branch,
will be made manager of that State, Membership
card, Goop Nrws mail directory, by-laws, 100 cir-
culars (printed and mailed from your copy), list of
members, list of ten exchange mailers, ten secrets for
making ink, ten money-making secrets, large bundle
of circulars, five mathematical problems, five amus-
ing experiments, and a short history of any President
you wish, Send name of President with your fee.
Fee, 10 cents. We will be pleased to receive calls
from any Goop Nrws readers passing through Clin-
ton. Call at 715 East Franklin. Also to exchange
cards and lists only with other clubs, Address Homer
H. Martin, Clinton, Mo,

Boys, wake up and become a member of the Goop
NerEws Elite Corresponding Club of Newark, N. J.,
and receive by return mail a yery handsome mem-
bership card, three novels, package reading matter, a
paper (not wood) lead pencil, twenty-five picture
cards, and by-laws, ete,, also we will send each week
two novels, papers, correspondence, writing slips, ete.
We will give as an inducement for five days only in-
cluding the above articles, one-half pound of the best
candy made, also we will give to the fifth one joining
within the five days a beautiful picture, size 17x25,
called “Too Late,”’ We have reading, writing, ex-
change, correspondence, prize contest. The dues are
10 cents; girls, 8cents. First one joining from each
State is made representative of that State for for-
eigners. The dues are Scents. Address all letters to
Miss Lizzie Waldon, vice-president and secretary, 17
Elm street, Newark, N. J.

Goop NrEws Monumental Young People’s Society
of Baltimore, Md., has changed its name to that of
Goop Nrws Monumental Pleasure and Reading Club.
We have obtained handsome club-rooms, and will
hold semi-monthly social meetings in connection with
the M. C. B.O. Pleasure Department—Only Balti-
moreans admitted. Initiation fee, 10 cents; dues, 10
cents per week. Members have use of club-rooms and
library, and. receive free tickets to our excursions,
entertainments, and trolley parties, Reading Depart-
ment— Non-residents only. Initiation fee, 10 cents;
monthly dues, 10 cents, payable in advance. We lend
members Nick Carter and other novels, They also
have use of our library, containing nearly 400 boys’
papers. Further information cheerfully furnished if
stamp is inclosed, Address the pro tem. president,
G. Edward Harrison, 708 Fidelity Building, Balti-
more, Md.

Guess what makes these Goop N ws readers so
joy? That’s easy! They are members of the Goop
NeEws Corresponding and Exchange Club of Bloom-
field, Iowa, and they are going to get a new member-
ship ecard. They have joined the best club going, and
they know it. They didn’t have to wait till the ther-
mometer registered 90 in the shade before they found
out the benefit of our club, This club was not organ-
ized for a money-making scheme, but was organized
to furnish correspondence for Goop Nmws readers.
To convince you that we are not in the field for money
we will for the next two weeks admit. all for a 2c.
stamp to pay postage on our mammoth membership
card. We have the club of the West, and don’t you
forget it. Foreigners admitted free. F. Childers,
president; R..G, Hardy, secretary, Lock Box 162,
Bloomfield, Iowa. Addressall letters to the secretary.

A little pleasure now and then
Is relished by the boys;

Come join the Y. P. C. and then
You'll share in sports and joys,

The Goon News Youths’ Pleasure Club for New
York residents only, is on the road to success, We
now have club-rooms which we are fitting up as fast
as we possibly can. We told you our officers were
wide-awake fellows, We have changed rule 7 of our
club. Ourinitiation fee was 10 cents; dues, 25 cents
per month. Initiation fee now is 25 cents, no dues,
no assessments, no further expenses whatever. We
offer prizes to those who bring us new members. You
Join and we do the rest. Geo. Fettig, president; Fred.
Fischer, vice-president; Wm. Lang, treasurer. Ad-
dress the secretary, Frank A. Atkinson, 382 Third
avenue, New York city.

Hello! Boys and girls, do you know what you are
missing if you are not a member of the Granite State
Goop News Corresponding Club of Portsmouth, N.
H.? You ought to join this week, and be a member
of one of the best clubs of America, Our officers are
Alfred Roesner, president; John Fodey, vice-presi-
dent; Harry Loach, secretary and treasurer. We
want fifty members by September 1, so we can be
able to publish a paper. ' We will give a paper-weight
calendar to the one who sends us the most members
by that time, We give a membership card, books,
and a number of other articles to all joining this
week. Our dues are not much—admission fee, 10
cents; dues, 5 cents quarterly, payable in advance.
All questions cheerfully answered, Address all com-
munications to secretary and treasurer, Box 692,
Portsmouth, N. H.

Ts the Goop News Reading Club of Rankin, Pa., on
top? Why, of course itis. It is always there.
club is the only good up-to-date reading club in West-
ern Pennsylvania, We always do as we say. We
have over 150 active members in the United States
and Canada, and we want over 200 members before
July 1. Are we going to do it? Whosaid not? Of
course we are. Ask your friends to join, and Join
yourself and be happy, as all our members are. All
joining this week will receive one pound of choice
reading matter, twenty United States and foreign
stamps, No. 2 list of members and a handsome mem-
bership card. Ladies and foreigners admitted free.
Initiation fee, 10 cents; dues, 5 cents a quarter in ad-
vance, For all information about the club, address
the secretary, J. M. Crom, Rankin, Pa,

The Maryland Club of Branch Officers has decided
to give an excursion in connection with the G. N. M.
P.and R. C. gn the 27th day of June, to Tolchester
Beach, Md., on'the palace steamer Louise, Dancing
on boat and grounds. All kinds of amusements.
Byery reader of Good NEwsin Baltimore and vicinity
is cordially invited to go with usand become acquaint-
ed with Maryland’s leading club lads and _lassies.
Tickets or full information of the club may be ob-
tained by calling on or addressing the corresponding
secretary. G. Edward Harrison, Room 708, Fidelity
Building, Baltimore, who is chairman of the excur-
sion, or his assistant, Fred’ Kothe, 209 N, Gay street,
Baltimore, Md.

The Goop Nws Gate City Corresponding, and
Stamp Club of Atlanta, Ga., is a good club, push it
along. We are giving’ hundreds of stamps, books,

    

 

This,

NEWS.

novels, etc., to the ten members sending us the
largest number of words from the name “Atlanta.”
Send stamp for full particulars. The initiation fee
is only 10 cents; dues, 10 cents, for three months in
advance. When you join.you receive list of mem-
bers, card of membership, and a packet of cotton seed
or twenty different stamps, Ladies and foreigners
(except Canadians) free. Don’t delay, join at once.
Address, all mail to Lewis Born, secretary, 91 Yonge
street, Atlanta, Ga.

Say, Ed, what makes you look so interested?
What makes me look so interested? Read this notice
and see. On joining the Goop News Excelsior Cor-
responding and Exchange Club of South Boston,
Mass., you will receive membership card, bunch of
circulars, two 5-cent novels, and ten foreign stamps.
Ladies will receive a 25-cent book by a popular author.
30ys and girls join at once, for this offer is limited to
ten days. Initiation fee, 10 cents? no dues; ladies,
5 cents (silver preferred in all cases). William F.
Gorman, secretary, 60 Gates street,

Boys! Girls! what are vou thinking about? Oh, we
are going to join the Goop NEws Emerald Isle Stamp,
Coin, and Reading Club of New York city. Why
don’t you? You receive a bundle of reading matter,
the Wide Awake for six months, twenty-five foreign
stamps, novels, books, writing paper, envelopes, etc.,
every month the dues are paid.
cents; dues, 15 cents a month, F. C. Fischer, secre-
tary and treasurer, 144 7th avenue, New York city.

teal camera given away absolutely free! Join the
Goop Nrws Reading Club of Philadelphia, Pa., and
geta bundle of story papers or books every month,
and after you have paid in a year’s dues receive a real
vamera, With outfit, take 2144x244 pictures. Philatelic
department—25 cents’ worth of good foreign stamps
to each member every month. Dues to either depart-
ment 10 cents a month.

The National Association of Branch Officers once
more extends a welcome to every honest officer of a
Goop NEws club. Send stamp for full particulars.
Address either the secretary, Paul H, Knoelk, 627
Greenfield avenue, Milwaukee, Wis., or the third vice-
president, G. Edward Harrison, 850 N, Calvert street,
Baltimore, Md.

Don’t miss this, boys! A package of some fine rare
unused foreign stamps and a club button to all joining
the Goop NEws Wide Awake Olub. Initiation fee, 10
cents; no dues, W, C. Lang, secretary, 309 W, 39th
street, New York city.

The Goop NrEws Reading Club of Buffalo, N. Y.,
wants more members. You get all up-to-date papers
and books. The fee is 10 cents; dues, 5 cents a week.
Write to Arthur Roesser, secretary, 929 Niagara
street, Buffalo, N. Y.

—_———_ > 6 - oe pierre wribg
* a>

   

JEPARTMENT.

IMPORTANT NOTICE.

{Hereafter exchange notices containing the follow-
ing named articles will not be inserted, viz.: Story
papers, fire-arms, explosives, dangerous, or worthless
articles, cigarette pictures, tobacco tags, soap wrap-
pers, and prize coupons bearing name of manufac-
turer. All offers must be strictly exchange offers.
This column is free to all our readers, but nothing
suggesting an advertisement will be permitted, If
exchange notices do not appear in a reasonable time,
it may be understood ‘that they are not accepted.
Address all communications for this column to ‘‘Ex-
change Department,’’]

PRINTING PRESS AND OUTFIT.—Milton E.
Marsh, Sterling, N. Y., has an Excelsior self-inking
printing press, size 84x54% inches, complete, with one
chase, two rollers, etc,, and one extra chase. He also
has twelve fonts of type suitable for such a press, and
twenty-five pounds of Long Primer type, besides
many other articles. Write for samples of work and
more complete description. Would like to exchange
for a second-hand high-grade bicycle. He also has a
first-class violin and an autoharp to exchange for a
banjo, typewriter, or something useful. References
exchanged.

NOVEIS.—Geo, H. Stapenhorst, 36 Hanover street,
Cumberland, Md., has $10 worth of 25-cent novels to
exchange for best offer in bound books by standard
authors, mandolin, violin, punching-bag, boxing-
gloves or stamps or best offer.

MISCELLANEOUS,—Wm,. Dodd, 2246 N, 21st
street, Philadelphia, Pa., has $25 worth of reading
matter, pocket camera and outfit, $10 collection of
stamps in album, $4.50 fife, and $100 bicycle, to ex-
change for best offer. Inclose stamp for reply.

STAMPS.—Edward Stern, 56 East 107th street, New
York cityyhas a collection of medicine and match
Stamps, catalogued at $40; fifty-six catalogued (old
paper) $10; also others ranging in price from §1 to
$2.50, to exchange for United States and revenues;
revenue departnients, etc., not in his collection.

STAMPS,-—-Mendel Cohen, 422 Broad street, Nash-
ville, Tenn,, would like to hear from any one having
any 30c., 50c., or $1 Columbian stamps. He will
make some good offers,

NOVELS,—Jas. Alves Dixon, 254 Green street,
Henderson, Ky., has 100 5-cent and 10-cent novels to
exchange for swimming-gloves, Will make other
offers for same.

MISCELLANEOUS,—Wm. S. Chambers, Box 64,
Plainwell, Mich., has peanut roaster and warmer
($12), milk-shake shaker ($12), ice shaver (31.50), glass
holders ($5), to exchange for Indian relics, curios, or
best offer.

MISCELLANEOUS,—W. J. Kavanagh, 206 W.
Pine street, Mahanoy City, Wa., has $15' worth of elec-
tric goods, collection of minerals, books, papers,
bicycle and foot-ball pump, and lots of other things to
exchange for stamps; United States and good foreign
stamps wanted; also album and blank approval
sheets wanted. All who have stamps write and tell
him what you want. He has a fine, large steam
engine to exchange for stamps, Those who have type
to exchange write, Foreign stamps for United States,
Columbian, and other foreign. Ibam wanted. All
letters and postals answered. .

HORN.—lL. F. Coons, Ellenville, N. Y., has an
alto horn in leather case to exchange for printing
press and outfit, or offers.

STAMPS.—F. M. McGeary, Parker's Landing, Pa,,
will give 300 foreign stamps for a cheap stamp album,
and 500 foreign stamps for a 3c,, 4c,, and 6¢. Colum-
bian stamp, unused if possible; 250 foreign stamps
for twenty-five stamp papers. Inclose a 2c. stamp or
letter will not be answered.

TELEGRAPH OUTFIT.—Frank Veres, Lithia
Springs Hotel, Tallapoosa, Ga., would like to ex-
change a telegraph outfit—consists of a key, sounder,

 

battery. some line wire, and book of instructions
(value $3,75), a8 good as new, for a photograph outfit,
' 3x4 or 4x5, if not perfect, good enough to repair easily.
All lettéys answered if stamp is inclosed,
STAMPS.—Philip Vogel, 1206 Grundy street, Nash-
| ville, Tenn., will give twenty-five different foreign
stamps for every 3c. unused Columbian stamp, fifty
different stamps for every 4c, or 5c, Columbian, 100
stamps for every 8¢c., 10c., or lic. Columbian. Will
' give 100 2c. red stamps for every department stamp,

Initiation fee, 10 |

  

 

C. Muir, president; Wm. |
Dodd, secretary, 2246 N. 21st street, Philadelphia, Pa, |

o

 
 

 

fifty for every envelope stamp before the 1874 issue;
no limit. Will give 100 stamps for any of the follow-
ing revenues: 50c. surety bond, 60c. inland ex., 70c.
foreign ex., $1 entry of goods, $1 life insurance, $1
probate of will, $1.80 foreign ex., $1.50 inland ex.

MISCELLANEOUS.—D. J/Snider, Box 48, Rosen-
dale, Mo., has one International stamp album, with
United States stamps from 1851 to present date; also
foreign stamps, 500 stamp hinges, good novels from 15
cents up by best authors, and Pike's. Peak cabinet of
fine ores. Will exchange any of the above for old
United States coins. All letters answered,

BOOKS—W. C, Lang, 309 W, 39th street, New York ,
city, h as $50 worth of new bound books, by Alger,
Optic, Dickens, etc,, to exchange for stamps, printing
press, or best offer.

READING MATTER.—Dr. E. B. Grubs, Peabody,
Kan., has the following list of cloth-bound books to
exchange for best offer in stampsand stamp materials:
Alex. Dumas, nine volumes, fifteen books; ‘Don
Gordon’s Shooting Box,’ “Young Wild Fowlers,”
and “Our Fellows,’ by Harry Castlemon; “The
Soldier Boy,” and “Young Lieutenant,” by Oliver
Optic; “Hero's of the Dark Continent,” ‘‘Boy Wan-
derer,”’ “Blue Jackets of ’76,’’ and “Before the Foot-
lights and Behind the Scenes ;” also thirty 25-cent and
50-cent paper-backed novels. Reference forged,
Write quick.

MISCELLANEOUS.—Harry Boyle, 31814 Ivy ave-
nue, San Francisco, Cal,, has a fine No. 11 Balti-
morean printing press, and type, composing stick,
three cans of ink, one box of gold bronze, one box of
silver bronze, and a lot of cuts, books, magazines,
games, novels, a lot of fine pictures, ete., to exchange
for a 5x8 printing press, or best offer. He would
like to hear from anybody that has a 5x8 printing
press, :

READING MATTER.—Lynn Gordon, Ivy, Mo.,
has all kinds of detective stories, novels, and other

| valuable and useful articles to exchange for reading

| matter or best offer,

 

All letters answered. Send list

of what you have,

MISCELLANEOUS.—Harry Mills, Box 26, Mor-
gan, Pa., has for exchange one 25-cent caliope, with
one sheet of music, one fine cloth-bound book, in 2
vols., 850 pages, entitled ‘‘The Three Musketeers ;’’
also $1 cameraand outfit, one stereoscope, eight 10-cent
novels, eight 5-cent libraries, one Victor steam en-
gine, eighteen scroll saws, one dozen scroll patterns,
300 foreign stamps, 200 United States 1c. and 2c.
stamps, six Brownie stamps. Any or all of the above
for cuts, job type, newspaper type, or font of script
type, border rules, gauge pins, or printers’ gold ink,
or anything that is needed in printing. All letters
answered by return mail. Can refer to twenty Goop
Nrws readers with whom he has exchanged as to
his honesty.

READING MATTER, ETC.—Carroll Mayhew, Jr.,
Murphysboro, [l., will give the following for a Ko-
dak ;: seventy-three 5-cent libraries, twenty-one 10-cent
libraries, five 25-cent novels, 175 Columbian stamps,
Honesty guaranteed. Write quick.

STAMPS.—A. L. Westcott, 28 Elm street, Oneonta,
N, Y., desires to hear from all persons, having
good United States stamps to exchange for same.
Stamps that catalogue below three cents not desised,
unless they are United States revenue stamps. Send
him a good selection on approval, and he will do the
same. Reference, Wilber National Bank. Will give
fine exchange for 2d and 3d issue, United States
revenues.

WOOLEN SWEATER,—Arthur Nivison, Box 29,
Oceanic, N. J., has a woolen. sweater with cape,
double thickness, to exchange for best offer. T'o in-
sure a quick reply inclose stamp, but all letters an-
swered,

STAMPS,—M. J. Joyce, North Tonawanda, N, Y.,
has $1 United States, 1895 issue, unused, for Ic. State
department; 50c. 1895, unused, to exchange for 50c.
Jolumbian, unused; 90c 1890, unused, for 90c. 1888,
unused; $2 1895. unused, for $1 or $2 Columbian; rare
foreign for United States, Send sheets by registered
mail with want list. :

RECIPES,—M,. H. Schumann, 32 Wilton avenue,
Norwalk, Conn., has about forty good recipes, such as
how to make silver ink, travelers’ ink, red ink, and
about fifteen other kinds of inks, also how to make
mucilage, two kinds of hair oil, red sealing wax, hair
renovator, pain remedy, starch polish, three kinds of
soap, washing powder, ink powder, tooth powder,
electric powder, twist candy, cold cream, imitation
gold, freckle lotion, and some others. I will send ten
recipes for five United States stamps above 10c., or
for twenty-five Columbian stamps; twenty for eight
different United States stamps above 10c., or seventy-
five Columbian stamps, or for twenty Columbians
above 2c.; forty for every 200 Columbians, or for
every thirty above 2c., or for every fifty United States
stamps above 10c. Stamps in poor condition not
wanted. Send stamps and receive recipes by return
mail.

CAMERA, ETC.—-W,. Waterbury, St. Stephen,
N. B., Canada, has a camera, six bound books, and
four 25-cent novels to exchange, altogether or
separately, for best offerin reading matter, 5 or 10-cent
novels preferred.

MISCELLANEOUS.—H. B. Haggett, Knightville,
Me., will exchange a ticket punch and ten Brownie
rubber stamps for one font of type. Al] postals and
letters answered.

STAMPS.—Chas. J. Beams, Oneonta, N. Y., will
exchange United States stamps for United States
stamps, and desires especially United States revenues,
Reference, First National Bank.

VIOLIN AND BOW.—Percy Raines, Danville,
Va,, has a good violin and bow to exchange for a
pocket kodac and outfit; make of violin, Hopf.

INDIAN RELICS.—Fred, Pieper, 495 S. Merdian
street, Indianapolis, Ind., has six spear points and
fourteen arrow points, made of flint rock, in good con- ,
dition, to exchange for a set of boxing-glayes; must
be in good condition. All letters answered if stamp
be inclosed. e

STAMPS.—G, ©, Lewis, 182 Main street, Dallas,
Texas, has 250 rare Columbian stamps to trade for
some kind of a small steam engine.

MISCELLANEOUS.—Ernest W. Henley. P. O.
Box 463, Florence, Ala., has a small stamp album for
duplicates, rubber printing outfit, 5A complete with
figures. 500 foreign stamps, 500 United States stamps,
and five philatelic papers, to exchange for stamps
not in his collection. He has 700 varieties and no
duplicates.

STEAM ENGINE.—H,. Meisoll, 108 2d_ street,
Brooklyn, N, Y., has a $4steam engine to exchange
for a set of boxing-gloves or best offer.

BRACKET-SAW.—Homer H. Martin, Clinton,
Mo., has a bracket-saw to exchange tor cuts or script
type. Type for type and cuts.

OPERA-GLASS.—Otto Hintz, 694 W. 2ist street,
Chicago, Il],, hasan opera-glass to exchange for 50c.
and lic, Columbian stamps, or best offer. All letters
answered.

MAGIC LANTERN.—Frank C, Greissinger, Fort
Niobrara, Neb., has a $4 magic lantern with seyen
slides and a $5 polyopticon lantern to exchange for a
kombi camera, pocket kodack, or a camera making a
picture 3'4x4%4, or bigger. Must be in good condition.
All letters answered if 2c. stamp is inclosed.

Norick,— Owing to the extraordinary number of ex-
change notices received, many are left over until next
week.

      
  

1S

GOooDdD NEWS.

 

THE BIG FIGHT AT OLIVER’S.

BY T. ‘O. STRANGE.

joni —

SAY, heard the news?”’

The speaker, a small, red-headed boy,
dashed breathlessly into the midst of a
group of others of about his own age,
were loitering in the playground.
for a reply, the

ww
iT
Ss
who
Without waiting
comer continued :
*¢*T]] bet Phipps will win.”’

new-

‘Win what? Why don’t you tell us what’s |

up? you young idiot?’’ said one of the group,
in a superior tone.

“‘Out with it, Ginger!’’ remarked another
boy, giving the bringer of news an encour-
aging kick.

‘‘Well, then, Phipps and Denver are going |
, PE g

to fight,’’? said the injured one, as he en-
deavored to retaliate on his attacker.

The news was received with a howl of de-
rision.

‘Richt your granny; we’ve heard it be-
fore, Ginger.’’

‘‘But it’s true this time,’’ persisted Gin-
ger. ‘‘I heard Phipps challenge, and they’ve
gone to the back of the pavilion, with Mark-
ham and most of the First.’’

Further abuse would doubtless have been
heaped on the head of the doubted Ginger,
but at this momenta boy, quickly followed

by a dozen others, dashed across the play- |

ground in the direction of the pavilion.

The loiterers waited for no further con-
firmation; something was up, evidently,
and in less than two minutes the playground
was deserted.

Doctor Oliver’s boarding-school was a
large one, comprising some sixty or seventy
scholars, whose ages varied from ten to sev-
enteen years. Of all these, there were two,
the afore-mentioned Phipps and Denver, who
were pre-eminently superior to the others,
and therefore deadly rivals.

Between themselves, the honors were di-
vided, both intellectually and physically.
Neither could, with justice, boast of superi-
ority over the other. Both had come to the
school the same term, and had fought their
way together through the different classes
until they reached the First. If Phipps took
head, Denver would be sure to get another ;
and if Denver won the mile race in the
sports, Phipps would carry off the half-mile.
So for some six months matters had gone
on, each of the pair striving to obtain an
advantage which would give him the title
of ‘‘head boy.”’

Needless to say, each candidate had a fol-
lowing, and even this being equally divided,
the school was split up into two parties, be-
tween whom the feeling of rivalry was as
great as between the respective leaders.

The news that the long-contested question
was about to be settled by open combat
quickly spread, and in a very short time
nearly the whole school was assembled on
the level green space at the back of the pa-
vilion, a spot sacred to the settlement of
differences since Oliver’s came into existence.

Inside a ring of breathless spectators, the
two combatants, with coats off, stood face
to face; They werea good match; for though
Denver’ was slightly taller and broader,
Phipps was more agile.

Markham, one of the older’ boys, was to
officiate as referee, and he was just about
to give the word to commence, when a tall,
gray-haired man, attired in sober black,
stepped toward the ring, and asked, sternly:

‘*What is the meaning of this?’’

lt was the doctor! Engrossed in watching
the two participants in the coming fight,
none of the spectators had noticed his ap-
proach. Atthe sound of the well-known
voice the ring opened like magic, but no one
attempted to run.

The doctor took in the situation at’ a
glance, and, receiving no,reply to his ques-
tion, he turned to Markham, and said:

‘‘Markham, tell me the facts of this.’

Thus ordered, the whilom referee was
compelled to blurt out the whole story;
which the master listened to with a some-
what scornful face. When the end was
reached, he addressed himself to the princi-
pals:

‘‘T have noticed the rivalry between you,
Denver and Phipps, and although it has for
some time given me great uneasiness, I
never suspected that you would carry it so
far as this. Have you any reason for quar-
reling other than the wish to be head of the
school???’

‘*No, sir,’’ replied both.

‘“‘Then I will assume that you have both
been led away by a selfish ambition, which
in future must be suppressed. Now shake
hands and terminate this affair at once.”’

Neither of the culprits stirred a_ finger.
The lines in the doctor’s face grew hard,
and he said, sharply:

‘‘Denver and Phipps, [ ordered you to
shake hands. Do you intend to disobey my
commands???’

eae looked up from the ground and re-
plied:

‘‘T will shake hands with Denver if you
order me to do so, sir, but it will make no
difference int my feelings toward him.’’

‘And you, Denver?’’ queried the doctor,

‘¢T will do as you request, sir, but [ shall

The head master knit his brow in thought;
it was a hard case. He was fond and proud
of both boys, and he was pained to see that
their very virtues had caused this bitterness
between them, It would never do to let it
continue. Amid dead silence, he considered
the situation.

Presently, with a curious contraction of
his thin lips, which was the nearest approach
to a smile which even the oldest boy in the
school had ever seen on his face, the doctor
said:

‘‘Very well, since you both evidently wish
to fight, you shall do so, and I, myself, will
see fair play.’

The words fell like a thunderbolt on the
assembly. ‘lhe doctor was going to counte-
nance a fight—even so far as to assist! The
| boys stared blankly at each other, for more
| than one of them had good reason to know
the head master’s aversion to fistic encoun-
ters.

Such as doubted if they had heard aright
were soon set at rest, for, taking out his
watch, the doctor said to the gaping boys
| who were to have acted as seconds:

‘<Come, get your men ready. Parker, run
to the lavatory for a bucket of water and
some towels.’’ ‘

By the time these were fetched, the dazed
| group of: boys had begun to realize that the
| fight was actually going to take place. The
doctor appeared quite unmoved, issuing his
| orders as though the superintendence of a
fight was an every-day occurrence. When
all preparations were made, he called,
‘‘Time,’’? and the battle began.

The first few rounds were fought hard out,
in the usual ‘‘give and take,’’ schoolboy
fashion, each boy being clearly under the
impression that he could finish the fight off-
hand. At the end of the fourth round how-
ever, in spite of the repeated application of
wet towels, both Phipps and Denver showed
a somewhat battered appearance. One of
the former’s eyes was nearly closed, while
the latter, in addition to various contusions,
had a cut on the lip.

‘‘Neither of you pays sufficient attention
tc guarding the blows of your opponent,’’
was the grim comment of the referee, as the
combatants faced each other for the fifth
time.

Profiting by this advice, both fought
warily, and at; the end of three more bouts
there was still nothing to choose between
them. In the ninth round, Phipps got in a
right-hander on his opponent’s cheek, which
made the partisans of the first named cheer
lustily; but ten seconds later Denver re-
turned the blow with interest, and the score
was equal.

Round after round succeeded, and neither
of the boys seemed to gain the slightest ad-
vantage over the other. Both were evidently
tiring rapidly, but still they stood up and
fought pluckily. It was impossible to say
that either had the worst of it.

At the end of the fifteenth round, the doc-
tor, after a critical look at both boys,
stepped forward and said:

‘‘Before this goes any further, I wish to
ask each of you two a question. Phipps, are
you still of the opinion that you can thrash
Denver?”?

‘*No, sir; but I’m sure he can’t lick me
either,’’? was the answer.

‘*What do you think, Denver?’’

‘‘Phipps is right, sir. It’s a dead heat be-
tween us.’’

‘‘Quite right; 1 agree with you,’’ assented
the doctor, and continued: ‘‘I think every-
body here knows my sentiments with regard
to fighting, and therefore I had better ex-
plain that I only allowed this one to take
place because I anticipated just such a result
as the present one. I hope that each of you
two boys has now a better opinion of the
other, and that you will be good friends in
future, so that, instead of opposing one
another, you will combine and work for the
good of the whole school.”’

Without a moment’s hesitation, both
champions stepped forward aud shook hands
heartily.

‘‘Well done!’ said the master, approv-
ingly: ‘‘and now you had better run away
and look to your hurts.’’

As the doctor turned away, Markham
threw his cap in’the air and _ shouted:

‘“Three cheers for the doctor!’

They were given with all the strength of
sixty young throats, aud as the head master
raised his hat in acknowledgment, one or
two of the boys nearest to him fancied they
saw tears in the grave eyes of the man
whose kindly nature but few of them ha
cared to discover.

Oliver’s is still in existence, although the
good old doctor has long since gone to his
rest. Though he performed many wise and
kind actions, he is chiefly remembered there
as the head master who ‘‘timed’’ the big
fight between Phipps and Denver.

—_—_~+- 0
COULDNT SPELL

ee

 

 

IT.

‘Yes, pa, at the boarding-school we have
to spell everything we eat or drink before
the teacher will give it to us.’’

“Yes, my boy, and a very good plan, too
—makes you all spell well. I suppose you

 

A LAND OF THIEVES.

There are probably more thieves in China
than in any other country in thé world, and
this in spite of the severe laws which have
been made for their benefit.

The first time a thief is caught at his
work, he is merely beaten with a bamboo;
the second time, however, he is branded
with the word ‘‘thief,’? and banished from
the country for life. If he comes back again
the penalty is death. He also pays for his
offense with his life if he uses any personal
violence against any one he may be robbing,
even if he merely draws a drop of blood
with a finger nail. But the people of Pekin
have a saying that every policeman is ten-
tenths of a thief himself, so that these laws
do not have any marked effect.

The towns of China seem especially
adapted to facilitate the work of thieves.

i The houses, as a rule, are one-storied, and

a man can easily slip in through the open
windows. There are a number of pawnshops,
‘‘where no questions are asked,’’? and most
of the towns have a large, idle population,
generally on the edge of starvation, who are
ready to risk anything for the sake of tood.

The outfit of Chinese thieves is simple but
ingenious. They go about barefooted and
naked to the waist, and oil their bodies until
they are as slippery as eels. They do away
with the natural use of their queues by tying
them in a knot at the top of their heads, and
sticking them full with sharp-pointed thorns.
Woe to the man that takes hold of them!

The only implement they carry, as a rule
is a ladder made of bamboo. This is exceed-
ingly original in device. A string is threaded
through a number of short bamboo sticks,
which, when drawn tight, thus gives the ap-
pearance of an ordinary walking stick.
When the string is allowed to hang from the
joints it forms a sling for the feet to rest
on. Burglars also occasionally carry a
miniature lamp, being the smoldering end
of a stick, which gives out a faint light.
ADVISED.

 

Certain physicians are careful not to give
advice to people except when they are for-
mally consulted, or in the strict relation of
physician and patient.

One evening, at a social party, a lady was
introduced to a celebrated physician.

‘‘Oh, doctor, I’m so glad to have met
you!’? exclaimed the lady. ‘‘Tell me, what
do you do when you have an awfully bad
cold?”?’

‘‘Cough, ma’am!’” said the man of medi-
clne,

—- 6» —_—__-

New Office-Boy—‘‘A man called here to
thrash you a few minutes ago.’’

Editor—‘‘What did you say to him?”’

‘‘T told him I was sorry you weren’t in.’

Dialogues, Speakers, for School,
PLAY Club and Parlor. Catalogue free,
T. S. Denison, Publisher, Chicago IL

Mention Good Ne ws.

 

 

 

Lapel ©
Button

will be sent to all Goop News readers who will for-
ward us their name and address, together with a two-
cent postage stamp. This button can be worn in the
lapel of the coat. The body ofthe button is blue and
red, and the words

GOOD NEWS CLUB

are stamped in gold, making a very attractive orna-
ment.

Address: Club Department, Goop NrEws, 29 Rose
street, New York City.

ON WHAT DAY WERE YOU BORNE

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, or
likely to happen during the next one hundred years,
you will be able to tell the day of the week by con-
sulting this comprehensive little calendar book.. Sent
to any address, postpaid, on receipt of 5 cents.

Address Frost’s Calendar, Box 1173, N. Y.
HOW TO MODEL, SAIL

BOAT. 2, AND BUILD A BOAT.

Everything relating to boats is fully illustrated

and explained in plain terms with an avoid- °
ance of technical words. Complete chap-

ters‘on modeling a boat, ship building,

rigging of ship,etc, Among the fllus- e 0
trations will be found: model for a24

deck of cutter, diagram of forms
of boat, form of stern, model e Mey
of schooner, sheer plan of OF
ship, half breadth plan, \
body plan, the keel- :
son, planking, cat-
head, knots and

 

 
  

     
  

GOOD
NEWS
CLUB.

 

 

 

 

splices, step- di
ping a
mast, a a e
ete.
iL
e ”
Witter Line. } ‘

 

 

el

Barts Jes teartinr ins

 

! , fuches.

 

 

manage to spell all the words?’’
“‘Oh, yes, pa, until it comes to physic, }

 

like Phipps none the more,’’ replied Denver,
bluntly.

     

and I always break down at that, and can’t, |
for the life of me, spell it,’’

 

 

 

 

i

Pate Te
This valuable book, entitled Boys’ Own Book of Boats, will be
sent postpaid to any ad- 10¢ MANUAL LIBRARY,
dress on receipt of price, * 29 Rose St., New York.

 

SPECIAL.—We will send
FREE, on receipt of 2 cent stamp to
pay for mailing and packing, 4
twenty-five cent book. entitled
‘Family Medical Instructor.’’ This
book has been compiled with great
care, and in cases of emergency W!

be foundinvaluable. TormoNns CHEM-
ICAL Co., 2, 4, 6 and 8 Duane St,
New York.

OUT-DOOR SPORTS.
S. & S. Manual Library No. 7. Price, 10 Cents:

A book of instruction for playing many of a
most popular out-of-door games, A book that w
supply a long felt want. The games introduc os
while well known, are elaborated, and many eh
features introduced, which makes them more ee
esting and less likely to become stale. ue oe
games with and without toys,for the city or cou St
For sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent, hy “
paid, upon receipt of price, 10c., by the publishers,
MANUAL LIBRARY, 29 Rose Street *:—

C BOUND VOLUMES OF GOOP
* NEWS.
We have issued volumes
five, six and seven, bound 12 a ee
tractive heavy paper cover. Twe
six numbers constitute a volumes ound
papers are cut and trimmed and and
with as much care as an expensive cloth binding,
the prices are

Vol, 3, $1 Each.
Pals 4, 5, 6 and 7 85¢. Each
These volumes contain serial’stories by
Edward 8. Ellis, Horatio Algers
Jas. Otis. Edward Stratemeyels
Harry Castlemon, Wm. Murray Graydon,
Walter Morris, Oliver Optic.
W. B. Lawson, Lieut. Lounsberrye
And others equally well known.
Address Subscription Department GooD News
29. Rose street, New York.
Vols. 1 and 2 out of print. ae
EVERY YOUNG MAN

Should read the book entitled

HOW TO DO BUSINESS

0
nl
This book is a guide to success in life, as It aR en
tells how to do business, but how co succeed 12. Kinds
teresting chapters on Fundamental Principles of @
of Business, Qualifications, for Business, Cho!
Pursuit, Mercantile Pursuits, How to Get
Manufacturing, Mechanical Trades, Causes oO v
Book-keeping, Commercial Forms, Business
lary, etc. This book will be sent, postpald,
of TEN CENTS. Address MANUAL L
29 Rose Street, New York. eS

IS

four,
three, ats

The Young Gymnast
S. &S. Manual Library No. 9. price se

7 essional

A perfect instructor for the amateur and protene who
gymnasium, and of incalculable value to a) strated
wishes to become a gymnast. profusely } dents

Explains the mode of training, tra bbe ils, in
$

 

gymnastic exercises of the arms, Jum)-
clubs, trapeze, horizontal bar, and
and feats of gymnastics. For sale by :
or sent post paid, upon receipt of price,

the publishers ew york.

MANUAL LIBRARY, 29 Rose Street, NeY ——

MILLS’

 

jous,

; i Spelling aren
of . subject — Penmanship, Spe previ re88s

Punctuation, Use of Capitals, for ©
style; advice to those who write tion
pusiness letters, letters of intvoduUe’” i ition,
tion, recommendation, social, congran stings plic
and gourtship, ete.; the art of secre sy ting Pe om
ness laws and maxims, rules of con ynoughe fr
meetings, and all forms of conveyins medil
one mind to another through the o;
written language. This valuable
postpaid to any address on receip
Address MANUAL LIBRARY, 29
ork.

SAN St ee ae h ‘
Amateur’s Manual of ro
S. & §. MANUAL LIBRARY,

PRICE, 10 CENTS:

tions 12,
A hand-book of practical instructiol” puide
dry -plate phbtoeragh y Itisa complets rom ii
fascinating art. Fal illustrated. first-class Byatione
camera is made to the finish of veasant oct withi?
Photography is a clean, light. and Piemads 7
suitable for any young lady or s¢? stpa
the reach of all. will be sents igh er?
For sale by all Newsdealers, OPW) 0 the PUY uf
upon receipt of price, ten Cen ose siree™
MANUAL LIBRARY, 29 !

MOTHERS

 

Soothing SytUP
while Teething>

25

 
 

Bs winsl?
eslVinrs- wa ieitit x
Be sure to use Moryout ohottle

   
 
 

  

 

  
 
 

 
 

      
  
   

 

 

 

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