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Entered According to Act of Congress, in the Year 1896, by Street & Smith, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C.
Entered as Second-class Matter at the New York, N.Y., Post-Office.

hee ee non rote New York, May 30, 1896. Peart Haar No. 317.

 

 
     

 

       
  

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TWO MEN, FIGHTING SAVAGELY, ROLLED OUT AT THEIR FEET.

THE VALLEY OF MYSTERY;

The Search for the Flower of Gold.

A STORY OF VENEZUELA.

 

 

 

 

 

 

BY ENRIQUE H. LEWIS,

tof Author of “The Nameless Story." “Yankee Boys in Japan,” “The Copper Disk,” “Sword and
| tis Pen,” “A Young Free Lance,” ete,. ete.
ow —~ 7 =
pure
von CHAPTER I. ‘‘Oh, go back to your old dried herbs,
jt iP THEKLA MAKES A CHANCE ACQUAINTANCE, | Thekla Morse, and leave us alone. We’re
paid a . able to take care of ourselves. Hi, Jack, you
her? 2 0OK out, fellows; you will upset that | are it!’’
NY a) (é) table.’ Through the dingy windows of a large loft
wit Ses ‘What if we do? It’s none of your | in one of the upper stories of a New York
op = funeral.’ ; wholesale drug house the morning sun was
ane Typ “Very well; go ahead, but if the boss | shining with wintry splendor.

nua HELD UP A QUEER-SHAPED LEAF, ABOUT THE SIZE OF A MAN’S HAND. IT waS OF catches you, it will be a case of quit, you} The room into which it sent its light was

DEAD-GOLD COLOR, AND THE EDGES WERE SERRATED IN A CURIOUS MANNER. know.” large and unplastered, Shelves filled with

 
2

 

GoonD

NEWS.

  

 

 

 

 

empty bottles lined the walls. Long rows of
rough tables, bearing innumerable glass
graduates and mortars used in compound-
ing drugs, occupied the centre. Up and
down among the fragile ware scurried two
laughing boys, devoting their employer’s
time to an exciting game of tag.

Over in one corner a thin-faced lad of,
perhaps, seventeen years of age, with large,
dark eyes and curly black hair, was seated
in front of a low desk covered with medi-
cinal roots and plants,

His countenance was frank and open, the
mouth seemed gifted with a trick of smiling,
the eyes were fearless, and the features
clear-cut and regular.

He was obviously an American boy, but
there was something in his face which hinted
at a foreign strain. A physiognomist skilled
in his craft would have said that. Greek
blood flowed in Thekla Morse’s veins—and
he would have been right.

There was little of interest in the lad’s his-
tory. It is a story similar to that of many
boys who have been cast upon the world to
earn their own living, and who have strug-
gled bravely with poverty’s hosts.

His father had been a restless n’er-do-well,
with a passion for travel and a fondness for
natural sciences. In one of his journeys
around the world he had married a native
of Athens, Greece, and had brought her to
America, where she died soon after the birth
of her son.

The father resumed his wanderings, and
finally vanished from the ken of all who
knew him. Thekla was brought up in a
small village near New York, and launched,
at an early age, upon his own resources.
After much buffeting about, he had finally
secured a minor position in a wholesale drug
house,

He was a lover of nature by instinct and
personal desire. His knowledge of botany
had won him early advancement, and, at the
time this story commences he was an inspec-
tor of drugs at a modest salary.

After kindly warning the reckless boys
playing about the tables on this bright
winter morning, Thekla returned to his task
of inspection. He was in the act of examining
a fragment of root through a powerful
glass, when a startled cry came to his ears.

Hastily glancing up, he saw a small table
loaded with valuable glass graduates top-
pling to its fall. Standing near by were the
youngsters, evidently helpless with conster-
nation.

Thekla sprang to his feet, and attempted
to catch the edge of the falling table, but
he was a second too late. Down it went,
with a prodigious crash, and into the midst
of the debris tumbled the lad, drawn over
by his efforts to avert the disaster.

As he scraibbled erect, with hands and face
cut and bleeding from contact with the
broken glass, he heard one ofsthe boys give a
warning cry, then both hastily retreated, just
as a door opened at theend oftheroom. A
large man, with a red face, stepped inside.

‘* What. was that crash I heard in here?’’ he
harshly demanded, glaring around the
.oom.

His eyes fell upon the wreck in the
centre, and both pudgy hands went up with
a gesture of rage. ;

‘*Ten thousand furies!’’ he thundered,
‘*What does this mean? How dare you upset
that—that table and break those graduates,
Thekla Morse? You—you young scamp, your
wages for a year won’t pay for them.’’

‘*Mr/ Robinson, I——’’

‘*Silence! Would you talk back to me?’’

‘*T simply wanted to say that——’””’

‘*Trying to deny that you upset the table,
eh?’’ sneered theman, ‘‘It won’t work, my
fine lad. Circumstantial evidence is enough
for me. I step in here, after hearing the

crash, and find you crawling out of the|0

mess. What more is needed? |Umph! you
are too careless for our employ.’’

Thekla paled slightly, but he resolutely
stood his ground. The injustice of the accu-
sation angered him. He glanced around for
the boys, but they bad discreetly withdrawn.
He was left to shoulder their blame.

‘‘Mr, Robinson,’’ he began, warmly. ‘‘I
did not upset that table. i fell while trying
to save it.’’

‘*A likely story,’’ replied the druggist,
whose rage had increased as he mentally
calculated the damage. ‘‘If you are not the
culprit, who is???

Thekla remained silent. His boyish sense
of honor would not permit him to play the
role of tell-tale. e knew, full well, that
he could not hope for indulgence if he re-
fused to answer the question, but he quietly
held his peace.

‘*Ah! that caught you,’’ grimly remarked
his employer. ‘‘ You cannot reply. Enough;
you are discharged.’?

‘Discharged, Mr. Robinson? This is un-
just, sir. I have done nothing——”’

‘*Tut, I’) have no further words with
you. The quicker you get out of the build-
ing, the better I will like it. You have cost
me a pretty penny by this day’s work. I?ll
not be hard on you, though. You can ask
the book-keeper for the money due you.”’

Thekla bowed politely, and returned to his
desk without a word. He secured his few
private papers and trinkets, and descended
to the office. He collected his salary for the

three days he had worked during the week,
and left the building.
As he passed out through the front door,

 

he gave a little shrug of regret. The posi-
tion had come to him after weary months of
hopeless search after work. He had Tiked his
duties, and he had been told more than once
that close attention and faithfulness would
assure him promotion.

** And now to lose it through no fault of
mine,’’? he muttered. ‘‘It’s too bad. Con-
found those boys—I’d like to punch their
heads.’’

His vexation did not last. He recalled the
ludicrous part of the recent accident, and
laughed to himself. His was a sunny nature.
After walking a few paces from the entrance
to the drug house, he thrust one hand into
his pockets, and produced several bills and
a few pieces of silver.

‘*Let’s see. Two dollars and ten, twenty-
five, and fifty, makes seventy-five. Two
dollars and seventy-five cents. That’s not
much for a hungry boy with no income. I
wonder what Wynne will say? He'll take it
like the good fellow he is. He'll grin and
commence some of those confounded verses
of his. Heigho! it’s good to have a true
friend in these hard times.”’

He laughed again, and started off down
the street at a rapid walk. While passing an
adjacent corner he almost ran into a man.
Both stopped, and exchanged half apologetic
glances, as persons will under such circum-
stances.

Thekla’s gaze was keen, and he speedily
saw that his neighbor was rather out of the
common run. The fellow was almost a giant
in stature. His face was round and hearty,
and there was an air of great jollity about
him. In fact, he had a cheerful appearance,
and an alert freedom of manner, which sug-
gested honesty and good fellowship.

There was a broad scar running across his
cheek, and one eye was missing. Its mate
seemed bright and penetrating enough for
two, however. But the most conspicuous
part of the man was a polished steel hook,
which did duty for a left hand.

As Thekla attempted té walk on after his
mental survey, the sailor—for such his cos-
tume proclaimed him—deftly reached out
and inserted the point of the hook into the
lad’s upper buttonhole.

‘* *Scuse me, young fellow,’’ he rumbled,
in a hoarse voice, ‘‘but would ye be kind
enough to give a mate a few directions?’’

‘*Certainly, sir,’’ politely replied Thekla.
‘*What is it you wish to know?’’

‘*T’m looking fur a consarn what deals in
drugs. I’ve lost my bearings, and I can’t tell
just where the place may be. It’s the house
of Smith & Robinson.’’

‘“T think I can direct you, sir,’’ smiled
Thekla. ‘‘I have just left there. It is right
up this street, not more than a dozen doors.
Pen can see the sign from here,’

He attempted to resume his walk, but
the hook held’ him fast.

‘* ’Scuse me if I detain ye a moment,’’
rumbled the sailor; ‘‘but could ye tell me if
they are pene re le???

The lad hesitated. e recalled his recent
bitter experience. There was nothing gener-
ous in the way he had been treated by the
junior member of the firm. He had been
summarily dismissed without an opportunity
to prove his undoubted innocence, No, the
firm was certainly not generous.

‘*Why do you ask?’’ he queried,

The sailor thrust his hand into a capacious
side pocket, and drew forth an odd-appear-
ing bundle, It was about the size of a small
hornet’s nest, and greatly resembled one,
The outer cover was grayish in color, and
seemed to be the leaf of some large plant.
Bound round the bundle were a number of
flexible vines. These had been loosened, and
the ends of several roots protruded through
one side, ‘ j

Thekla’s quick eye recognized them at
nce,
‘‘Why, that%is Venezuelan sarsaparilla,’’
he exclaimed.

‘‘Death of my eye! how did you know
that, young fellar?’’ asked his companion,
in surprise.

‘It is my business,’’ modestly replied
Thekla, ‘‘I am familiar with crude drugs.’’

‘‘Good. Then ye can tell me what this
here bundle is worth.’’

‘* About thirty cents,’’ was the prompt re-
ply. ‘*Sarsaparilla is not very valuable, Did
you intend to offer it to Smith & Robinson?’’

‘‘That I did. But are ye sartain about
them figures?’’ asked the sailor, in a voice
of extreme disappointment.

‘‘Yes; and, furthermore, the firm would
not buy it at all. They only purchase in
large quantities, and from regular dealers.
May | ask where you secured the bundle?
It is very curious. The outside leaf is new
to me.’’

Thekla bent over and eagerly examined it.
The sailor dexterously released his hook, and
meditatively stroked his chin with the steel
instrument,

‘*T like your looks, mate,’’ he said, pres-
ently, ‘‘and I think I will confide in ye.
Jes’ step out o’ the channel, where we can
talk in peace.’’

CHAPTER II.

THE DISCOVERY OF THE WONDERFUL LEAF.
(a ‘

N the first place, ye’re right about that
5 } being Venezuela stuff,’’? he began, ‘‘I
- know, because I got it down there my-

<> self. Some three months ago I left a ship

 

in Georgetown, British Guiana, and went up
country with a party prospecting for gold.

‘We traveled for several weeks, and finally
camped on a river called, in the outlandish
lingo they use down there, the Mazaruni.
We were nigh spent, and some were sick of
a fever.

‘*We stayed there six days, and then con-
cluded to give up the job. The morning we
started back to civilization, I found this here
bundle lying on the bank of the river,
where it had been cast by the current.

**T stowed it away, with never a thought,
ontil I got back to Georgetown, I shipped
aboard a bark for New York, and just be-
fore leaving port, I opened the blooming
thing. It had nothing but a lot of old foots
and leaves in it. I tossed it into my chest,
and didn’t disturb it agin ontil this morn-
ing.’?’

The speaker heaved a prodigious sigh, and
gently passed his hook over his sound optic.

‘‘Have ye ever been poverty-struck,
youngster?’’ he asked, mournfully.

Thekla nodded gravely.

‘*Then ye can feel for a poor feller. I am
drifting without a rudder this morning, I
live here in New York, and I’ve a wife and
three kids. The baby is just cutting his
teeth. I’m down on my blooming luck, and
I an’t got a shot in th’ locker. One of the
kids is sick with the croup, and he needs a
doctor purty bad. I was on my way to sell
this here bundle, but what you have told
me has carried away my last bit of can-
vas.”’ 3 hk

‘*Your child is ill, you say?’’ replied
Thekla, sympathetically.

‘Yes, he’s purty bad. If I don’t gita
doctor somewhere it’ll go hard with him. I
don’t like to see little Jimmy go} and——
*scuse me.’’

A great, salty tear splashed upon Thekla’s
coat sleeve. The lad thrust one hand into his
pocket, and produced his money. Hastily
selectiug a dollar and a half, be pressed it
upon his companion,

‘Here, take this, please,’’ he said, softly.
**Y would like to give you more, but I am
limited this morning.’’

‘*Bless yer good heart, youngster,’’ ex-
claimed the sailor, fervently. ‘‘I thank ye,
but I can’t take it, Ye don’t know me at
all.’’

‘tT know that you are in trouble, and
that’s enough. Take it, please, and get a
doctor for little Jimmy.’’

‘*Well, may old Nick fly away with Cy-
clops McGinnis—that’s me—if 1 ever forgit
this here day. It shows that there is some
people in the world with hearts. I’1l take it
fur my kid’s sake, but I’ll pay ye back.
What’s yer name?’’

‘‘Thekla Morse,’?’

‘*Well, Thekla, I thank ye with the grati-
tood of a father. I live at No, 34 River

”

street. If ye’re down that way drop in and
see my kids, Ill try to have the money for
ye, too.”’

‘*Do not worry about it. Get the doctor
as soon as possible.’’

Thekla bowed, and started to walk away,
but Cyclops McGinnis’ hook caught him by
the arm. The peculiar bundle was thrust
into his hand and the sailor rumbled,
heartily: -

‘‘Jes’ take that along as security. No,
don’t ye dare to refuse. It don’t amount to
niuch, but it is somethin’. Good-by.’’

Thekla laughed, and accepted the package
of sarsaparilla. Cyclops waved his hook

enially, and disappeared around the corner.

e peeped back once, and then stalked into
a liquor saloon, with a grin upon his round,
good-natured face.

All unconscious of his late companion’s
perfidy, Thekla hastened on his way. While
walking along, he drew forth the remainder
of his money, and counted it, with a droll
smile.

‘‘One dollar and twenty-five cents.
Humph! the reserve fund has taken a de-
cided drop. Thekla Morse, you need some
one to take care of you. Well, poor fellow,
I hope he gets the doctor in time.’’

He hurried down to a street leading from
the East River. Stopping in front of an old
rickety frame house, he whistled shrilly. A
head, crowned with a shock of red hair, ap-
peared at one of the upper windows, and a
thin, piping voice called down:

‘¢Gee-whiz! is that you, Thekla? What
are you doing here? ave you quit your
job?”

‘‘No, Tam fired. Kicked out—given the
grand bounce; trollied,’’ laughed 'Thekla,

‘*You don’t tell me? Gee-whiz! come up
quick, and explain yourself.’’

The lad ascended three flights of stairs,
and entered a room directly under the roof,
The apartment was small, but scrupulously
neat. It contained two cots, a centre-table,
several wooden chairs, and a small cooking

‘stove.

Certain culinary utensils hanging neatly
upon the wall indicated that the occupants
were accustomed to housekeeping. A tea
kettle upon the stove sang cheerily, und from
a small pot came a savory odor.

Thekla sniffed hungrily.

‘‘T’m just in time for dinner, eh?’’ he
asked ‘‘You area sly dog, Wynne Teeters.
You wait until I go to work, then you live
high.’’

He tossed the bundle given him by Cy-
clops McGinnis upon the table, and turned to
the other occupant of the room. It was a

  

 

Wynne went to his desk, and comme: gat
work. Thekla cleaned the dishes with 8 7
expertness, and then donned his hat. |. gj
‘‘Guess I’ll look around, and see } al!
person is pining for a handy boy,”’ he om
‘1’ll read the papers, while I’m dow? | gi)
and answer the advertisements. If 1’ 7 4
back by six don’t wait supper.’’ os” &
As he walked toward the door, his Vi
fell upon the odd-looking bundle gived™
by Cyclops McGinnis. @
‘‘] wonder if I can’t sell that sash a

      
  
  
     
 

 

 
   
 

lad of about sixteen. A thin, pale face, @ ei
head set close to a pair of broad shoulders; i 1
the back curved in a distinct hunch; long, §
sinewy arms, giving promise of styength,
and an ever-present air of cheerfulness. c
Such was Wynne Teeters, Thekla’s room- t
imate and chum. He was an orphan, and = P
|forced to make his own way through the c
world. He was deformed in body, but ex-
ceedingly clever and shrewd in mind. He t
had one affection and idol om earth. And 81
that was Thekla, ; 8
‘*Well, old fellow, I suppose you are just a
dying to hear how I happened to lose my ‘
job?”’ laughed the latter. He lifted the lid
from the pot, and peeped at the contents.
‘*T would like to know, but first let me F 7
celebrate the event with a faw appropriate
verses,’’ replied Wynne, picking up a well- ~
worn violin. }
‘Tf you commence I'll eat every morsel Q
of this stew,’’ exclaimed Thekla, warningly. J
Wynne dropped the instrument with a)
comical grimace. yo
‘“‘Pll give up. Go ahead and spin your Say
yarn. Did you ask to be admitted as a mem- ;
ber of the firm???’ Y
His companion explained his misadvel- :
tures at the drug house, and told how he Sla;
had left with dignity. He then described his Co]
meeting with Cyclops McGinnis. ous
‘‘Wynne, you would be charmed with As
him,’’ he laughed. ‘‘Heisa great charac: ~@ Shr
ter. He looks asif he had just stepped from :
a romance of piraticaladventures. You could 7 Saic
make verses galore about him.’’ ‘i
‘*Did you say he was in\trouble?’’ fac
‘‘Yes; the poor man’s little boy is ill. He old
wanted to get a doctor for him, but he bla:
hadn’t any——what’s the matter, now?’’ ago
Thekla paused, and glanced guiltily at Aon
Wynne. The latter held up one finger, a0 mee
shook it solemnly. 3g
‘*Thekla Morse, how much money did you the
receive from the firm?’ he asked. 4
‘*T wo dollars and seventy-five cents.’’ f ig
‘*Where is it?”’ Ton
‘‘I_that is—pshaw! what do you walt 8Xte
to——?? Sis
‘‘Where is it?’’ repeated the hunchback, me
inexorably. ‘]
Thekla emptied his pockets, and placed Part
the money in his companion’s outstretché 8rea
hand. The latter counted it with great d@ § we
liberation. oe
‘‘Hum! I thought so,’? he said. ‘* You ne
have gone and given a perfect stranger mor Ona |
than half your wages.’? gust
His little boy needed a doctor, and—and } ah}
didn’t like to see the poor fellow worry, § ‘G
explained Thekla, half apologetically. Some
He hesitated, then added, with an air o Ont,
conviction: : Udic
‘*You would have done the same, old fel a ,
low ; you know you would.”’ a on’
‘*¥ou will never get along in this world, a
retorted Wynne, severely. f Wl it
But his eyes glistened with a suspicion ° hat
moisture, and he gave his companion 47” ff) * AG
affectionate glance. j are |
Thekla bustled about the room, singing hy’
gayly. He prepared the table for dinner, 42° ~ .. by
served the stew with a skill born of long & one t
perience. oi dot ley
‘How are the orders for verses, Wynne! A. lar
he asked, during a pause. ‘‘Many coming fi Th
in??? i é]
‘*T received an order for one hundred this d and he
morning,’’ replied the hunchback, takin’ Mnlig
up a letter from a homemade desk in oF q Wh
corner. ‘‘This is the last of the season, Het ft cate
know. St. Valentine’s Day is week 4 ee nea
next. After that, the busisess will be slow 4 qj sq he
Thekla sat down at the table, and ey thy fa
the speaker whimsically. we 8 leg
‘*T guess you’ve got about as queer @ Pe Oure, V
fession as any boy in New York,’’ hée a beading
marked. ‘‘How many fine ladies who rece Mee i
those dainty valentines, with their se? me p
mental verses, would imagine they bees ba Wh
written by one Wynne Teeters, in the at he c
room of a house on this street?’’ isi ag, tek
Wynne laughed cheerily, and seated D™ Sta.
self on the opposite side of the table. Aj) Berly
“Tam afraid the knowledge would kild e W Tt
the romance. Things are seldom what tbe soytine
seem. in this world, Fancy me posil® js on, v
cupid, with wings and a bow? The busi, tote c
is a queer one, as you say, but it pays, % jf l Wwaee
a fashion. When this last order is filled Pay nn
will mean over fifty dollars in our MU" fj, 'On?
bank,’? it’s Ue a.
“You call it mutual, but I guess og” day, T
mostly yours,’’ said Thekla, ruefully. “Bp 0 fF %bta; b;
to make matters worse, here I’ve gone Veo De
lost my job.’’ . ee ae? sg
‘*Don’t let that worry you. What 15 wo that y!
is-yours, you know.’’ it Be thy Vig
“Thanks, old fellow,’’ gratefully Te? gs # youn
Thekla. ‘‘You have got a heart as big ut | ! The? Nn
your body. You know I appreciaté og | “Ups la
kindness. I won’t be out of work we) & op °Us
There must be something in this gre@’” | ty : Wi
for a willing boy to do.’’ Pn) nig’? hi
At the conclusion of the humble "og fy a

MR sacct
Pe
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ee

illa?’?’ he mused. ‘‘Probably some druggist

   

 

8; ‘would give me a half dollar for it. I?ll just
g, See if it is in good condition.’’ *
i He removed the outer covering with some

difficulty. A number of tough withes strange

n- i to him had been skillfully bound around the

nd - package. The leaf in which it had been in-

he Closed was almost as strong as leather.

x- The contents were finally spread out upon

He c the table. As he critically examined each

nd Stem and root, Thekla suddenly came upon
something that brought bim to his feet with

ast f &cry of amazement.

ny 1 : aaa

id 7 CHAPTER III.

me | THE SOLVING OF THE MYSTERIOUS CRYPTO-

ate GRAM.

ell- a \ ; :

i) YNNE turned from his desk, and
‘sel saw Thekla eagerly examining a
‘ly. small object held in his right hand.
ae ‘*What in Orpheus’ name have

you found now?’’ he demanded. ‘‘A thou-
our Sand dollar diamond?”’
a- “No, but it is almost as valuable to me,”’
Teplied Thekla. ‘‘Just look at this.’’
yell _He held up a queer-shaped leaf, about the
, he Size of a man’s hand. It was ofa dead-gold
| his Color, and the edges were serrated in a curi-
OWs manner. It was withered and crumpled
with 4&8 if from age, and the outer edges were
rac- Shriveled up.

row of} ‘‘Humph! it is nothing but an old leaf,”’
ould: am Said Wynne, in evident disappointment.

**An old leaf!’ replied Thekla, turning a

4¢e flushed with joy to his companion. ‘‘An

He Old leaf ! Why, it’s a splendid specimen of a

it he Plant supposed to have been extinct years

” 480. It’s of the genus Awreola grandi-

y at org——??
and ' “Gimme it in English.”’
“That means plant of gold,’’ explained
} you the pons botanist.
ut it isn’t gold.”’

es

iB It gets that name from its color, and

 

from the legend that wherever it is found
want §Xtensive deposits of the precious metal
8Xist.??
pack, Bosh and balderdash !’’

I guess so. I don’t care much about that
laced Part of it. I’m just tickled to death at my
tched Seat good luck in running across this speci-
it de ten. Whoop! do you know what that means,

Wynne? There are only two others known.
You Qe is in the British Museum, and the sec-
- more “td isin our Smithsonian Institute. And
pat to think that I have one, also. Hur-
and en, a ta 2 | b th
rrys 8 se-whiz! is that sor — t must be wort!
Smething, then,’? exclaimed Wynne, his
air of Ieatempt for the leaf disappearing with
(Jcrous rapidity. ;
d fel- a Probably a thousand dollars. But I—l
a on't care to sell it.””
orld, ‘en, Vhat! Gee-whiz! What! Don’t care to
v it? Thekla Morse, you are plumb crazy.
»jon of at in thunder do you mean?’’
ion 42 r I'd like to keep it. Fancy having such a
8Pe prize in my collection.
singing fo ynne fell into a chair, and fairly gasped
er, and -. breath. The very idea that a boy in his
png eX aa” mind would prefer to retain a miserable
ii dot, eaf when it could be sold for a thousand
yune? ‘he tS was beyond his power of compre-
comins “pion,
{ an, hekla hurried to their solitary window,
red th suey held the precious specimen in a ray of
takiv8 Might.
jn one qu Why, I declare, it’s all marked with
on, oo cai; lOoking characters!’’ he suddenly
k atte e ®dout. “Look, Wynne.”

2 slo / w © latter peered over his shoulder, and

y the faintly inscribed upon the under side of
; leaf a number of odd-shaped symbols,
ra pre oun Were so dim that merely an occasiona!

> he ting Was visible. They appeared to have
p rece 89, 1 inscribed with the indelible juice of
‘ seo teyyPlant.
oy Wem baw, 28t is it—writing?’’ asked the bunch-
the att Th. Curiously.
ig Alte ®kla produced a magnifying glass, and
ed bi ge a careful examination, replied,
3. - i ‘ y:
d kill “ Wytt is a cryptogram, as sure as I live.
hat ths Ne Teeters, we are in. the presence of
sing ae | ot, Wonderful mystery. Quick get out
) buslt : gee Camera. Perhaps the characters will
Lys, 8 it ® clearer in a photograph.’’
filled Day? Dre caught the contagion of his com-
ir yout typ °n’s excitement. He drew a camera
3 — te, Closet and proceeded to take the pict-
yess te | day, ® wonderful leaf was held against a
y: Bed Sta; t°kground, and the desired exposure
gone Velo In ten minutes the plate was de-
] j \ . .
at is ws ; tha, Y.! what funny characters! Look at

i the .“iggly thing with the tail. What under
ly reps Wen can it mean???

  
  
 
  
 

        

as DIB if They tme’s question fell upon unheeding ears.
ciate J ig . c was lost in contemplation of the
ork loa ® ‘ty. Writing. He pored over each char-
great . tet yng extreme patience. Presently, ris-
eal | hth » 18 feet, he turned to his companion,
able oc ; tg, Puzzled expression upon his handsome
omm eo i Wy ‘
with @ a & fin feclare, some of the characters look
at. 279 Am aT to me,’’ he said, thoughtfully. ‘‘If
300 if i : mbict mistaken, that first mark which
” tot ®s a ‘figure five with an extra twist

Rg
> gy th
‘ Habe Wer curve, is the botanical arbitrary
i m P hext a plant with a woody stem. And
8h, -whiz!
; ir; Zz!
egy st

Means a perfect flower.”’
Bp, Bly exclaimed Wynne. ‘‘What’s the

  

How did you know that?”’

   
    
      

Goop

NEWS.

 

we are on the track of some mystery. It’s
certainly a cryptogram.”’

‘That means secret writing, doesn’t it?’’

‘Yes. I wish to goodness I could read it.
Why, just think; this leaf came all the way
from the interior of Venezuela. Cyclops
McGinnis said he found the bundle on the
bank of the Mazaruni River. Who knows?
probably it is a message or something.’’

‘*That’s so,’’? excitedly replied the hunch-
back. ‘‘And there may be diamonds and
valuables and—and lots of good things be-
hind it all. Say, why don’t you take the
leaf down to Herr Dunderbach? He reads
puzzles.’’

‘*By Jove! you are right. The professor
ought to help us out. Come.”’

The boys raced down two flights of stairs,
and knocked at the door of a little back
room.

A shrill, high-pitched voice bade them
enter. They found a spare old man ina
black skull cap bending over a thick volume
as dusty and sear as himself.

‘* Ah, the little boys mit de top floor, eh?’?
he wheezed. ‘‘What you want mit de pro-
fessor? Your faces, dey all shine mit excite-
ment.”’ ‘

‘*Please tell us what these characters
mean, sir??? asked Thekla, in a trembling
voice.

The professor took the photograph, and
after examining it briefly, returned it, with
a snort of contempt.

‘‘Ach! I have no time to waste mit such
foolishness,’’ he said. ‘‘I read him like mine
newspaper. The first line, him say, ‘Plant
having a woody stem—perfect flowers—
gold. Vere you get dis, eh?’’

‘*Go on, please, sir,’’ exclaimed Thekla,
in an agony of suspense. ‘‘It is very impor-
tant for us to know what it means. You say
the circle with a dot means gold?’’

‘*Yah, das es right. You are goot boys.
Wait, I draw me ein large copy and explain
for you.”’ :

He took pencil and paper, and sketched
the following:

he said.

down, and ein oder gold character.
figure eight means mooch.”’

**Mooch?’’

‘*Yan—mooch, blenty.’’

‘Oh, much,””

Poa.
means dot line separating dem?’’

“JT think I know,’’ spoke up
eagerly. ‘‘The-symbols for ‘much’ and ‘gold
are beneath those meaning the ‘ woody plant,

is plain enough. It means that much gol¢

clear?”?’
‘tAs
chuckle.
‘‘Yah, 1 believe me dot ees right,’’ coin
cided Professor Dunderbach.
oder half of the leaf.

 

dis photugraph, mein friend?’’

‘*T have read me the first three symbols,’’
‘Now, you see dere is ein line un-
derneath, then dot figure like ein eight lying

ot

Now, what in dunner and blitzen

Thekla,

and the ‘perfect flower of gold.’ Hurrah! it | their owD floor.

will be found in the ground under where the
perfect flowers of gold grow. Isn’t that

mud,’’ said Wynne, with a dry
J ’

‘‘Now for de
But vere did you get

‘‘Go ahead; I’ll tell you later,’’ replied
Thekla, impatiently.

The old student good-naturedly complied.
He made another sketch, which looked as
follows:

This was evidently a poser. For fully five
minutes the professor studied the queer-
looking characters, then he consulted a
musty book. After a brief search, his face
lighted up.

phantly. ‘‘Dot first figure is the earth—the
globe. Dot arrow points to the north-east
corner of the southern half of the western
hemisphere. Now, what country ees’ dot?’’

‘*Venezuela,’? promptly replied Theékla.
‘‘There it is on your wall map. Now, what
is that curved thing with the death’s head
in it?”’ -

‘©A poisoned cup?’’ suggested Wynne.

‘*‘Nein, it ees nix cup. It ees—it ees——’’

Herr Dunderbach scratched his head in
evident perplexity. His face fairly beamed
with excitement. He had at last found game
worthy of his analytical mind.

‘<The curved line certainly means a hollow
of some kind,’’? said Thekla. ‘‘ Now,
what——”’

‘¢Gott in himmel! I have him,’’ suddenly
exclaimed the professor, dropping bis glasses.
‘Tt ees ein valley—ein valley, understand?
And tbe skull, it means deat’—the deat’
valley. Ach! dis ees splendid.’’

‘‘The death valley?’’ echoed Thekla, won-
deringly. :

‘< And those cross lines must stand for a
prison, or something,’’ put in Wynne,
breathlessly. ‘‘See; they are just like prison
bars. And that cross behind them indicates
that a man—the writer, I guess—is a pris-
oner. Whoop!”

‘¢] understand it all now,’’ said the young
botanist, wild with delight. ‘‘Some one is
confined against his will in a valley of death
located in the interior of Venezuela. In the
same place, the flower of Gold can be
found.’’ ’ : si

‘*Which means gree ae mines of gold,

slaimed Wynne, joytully.

Oe vate it all about?’’ queried the pro-

fessor. ‘‘lunderstand me it ees ein splendid
cryptogram, but vat does if mean? Where
ou get him?’’

T explained briefly, but before he had
ee Herr Dunderbach’s curiosity had
vanished. It had been an interesting puzzle,
but with the solution came loss of interest.
The old student went back to his beloved
books, and the boys hastened from the room
>| with their heads in a whirl.
>| Wynne could not wait until he had reached
Grasping Sn ae as

- scurried up their stairs, he exclaimed:
i er et it just wonderful! Think of a leaf
telling all that. It’s a message, sure pop, and
fiom some one confined in a—ugh!—a death
valley. He must bave written it in i am
éhat it would reach the outer world. But
what are you going to do about it?”’

‘¢Go down there and search for him,’’ was

rompt reply.
the What! Gee whist what!”’

 

 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 

 

*‘T am out of a job,’’ replied Thekla,
speaking rapidly. ‘‘Your work is slack; we
can get a thousand dollars and more for the
leaf, and we would both like to travel, so
why shouldn’t we make the trip?’’

‘*Thekla Morse, you—you take my breath
away. One would think, to hear you talk,
that it was a journey to Harlem, instead of
a trip into what may prove to be an unex-
plored region of Venezuela. How would
you get down there?. Could we go alone into
that wild country?’’

‘*We could get there easy enough, and as
for a companion, who could be better thau
Cyclops McGinnis? And, by the way. who
has a better right? Didn’t I get the bundle
from. him? We will look up Cyclops McGin-
nis at once.”’

Despite his appearance of easy-going good
nature, Thekla Morse was a lad of consider-
able determination of character. When
aroused to interest, his dreamy ways disap-
peared as if by magic, and he became alert
and energetic.

The finding of the marvelous leaf, with its
extraordinary cryptogram, brought all his
latent forces into play. To grasp the signifi-

|eance of the wonderful message was the

|
|
}

}
|

 

‘‘Ach, I have it,’? he exclaimed, trium- |

j
i
;

|

 

work of a moment—to resolve on a plan of
action required even less time.

Before Wynne had recovered from his sur-
prise he was following Thekla down the
street in search of Cyclops. The old sailor
had given his address as No, 34 River street,
but the boys found that number over the
door of an iron foundry.

‘*He can’t live here,’’ remarked Wynne.
‘*Are you sure he said 34?’

‘“*T am positive.’’

‘*Then he must have told you a yarn.’’

‘*No, there is some mistake. We will ask
at that house across the street.’

Their inquiries brought some success. A
brawny Irish woman met them at the door.
On being respectfully questioned, she laughed
scornfully.

‘*Is it that ould thafe of the worrald yez
want? *Dade, and Oi know him. Said he
lived at the fotndry, eh? Divvil doubt it.
It’s a wonder he didn’t give his address as
the morgue. Ye’ll find him nixt dure, an’
the top flure. He lives wid another rascal
loike himsilf.’’

**Gee-whiz! didn’t he tell you he was mar-
ried, and wanted money to get a doctor for
his sick little boy?’’ asked Wynne, as they
regained the sidewalk.

‘*There must be some mistake,’’ insisted
Thekla, who looked rather foolish. ‘‘ Reserve
your decision until you hear his side,’’

They climbed four flights of steps, and,
groping their way through the gloom toa
door in the rear, were on the point of
knocking, when a most prodigious hubbub
broke out on the other side of the partition.
A second later the door was forced opeu with
a crash, and two men, fighting savagely,
rolled out at their feet.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)
we
SOTHERN’S LITTLE JOKE.

Sothern, the famous Lord Dundreary, was
a great practical joker on or off the stage.
One nigbt he arranged with his brilliant
managef, Goodwin, while he was playing at
the Globe Theatre, Boston, that at a certain
point in the performance Goodwin should
interrupt him, pronounce him a humbug as
a humorist, and a stick as an actor, and that
much brilliant repartee should flow there-
from, to the mystification of the audience
and the amusement of both Sothern and
Goodwin.

Goodwin entered heartily into the spirit
of the joke, and at the proper mement,
dressed in full evening costume, and some-
what disguised, he rose in one of the stage
boxes, interrupted Sothern, called him a de-
lusion and a snare, and wanted bim to stop
immediately. Sothern, who enjoyed it even
more than Goodwin, replied very smartly,
and a rattling controversy ensued, in which
Sothern evidently had the sympathy of the
audience. Imagine the latter’s delight and
Goodwin’s astonishment when a policeman,
who was not in Goodwin’s half of the joke,
marched in under secret orders from Soth-
ern, and removed the disorderly gentleman
from the box, and then from the house to
the police station amid the cheers of the
crowd. Some time after midnight Sothern
visited the station and obtained the release
of his unsuspecting accomplice.

——+- 0 —

AN EASY WAY TO WIN A WAGER.

 

A sporting gentleman, who has the repu-
tation of being a very bad shot, recently in-
vited some of his friends to dine with him.
Before dinner he showed them a target
painted on a barn door, with a bullet in the
bull’s eye. This he claimed to have shot at
one thousand yards’ distance. As nobody
believed him, he offered to bet the price of
an oyster supper on it. On one of his guests
accepting the wager, he produced two wit-
nesses whose veracity could not be ques-
tioned to prove his assertion. As they both
said that he had done what he claimed, he
won the bet.

At dinner, the loser of the wager asked
how his host bad managed to fire such an
excellent shot. The host answered:

‘*] shot the bullet at the door at a distance
of one thousand yards, and then I painted,
the target round it.’’
 

re. Gx ©
TO Do {HINGS.

ay

TOW

EDITED BY DAVID PARKS.

+e

W. A. Y., Philadelphia, Pa., wants to
know !
HOW TO MAKE SENSITIZED PAPER.

Obtain of the dealer Clemen’s plain salted
paper. It comes in sheets 18x22, and will
keep indefinitely. Purchase an ounce of
silver nitrate. Dissolve 400 grains in 8 ounces
of distilled water, and be sure and have the
bottle absolutely clean. This will give youa
solution that contains 50 grains to the ounce
of water. Add three drops of nitric acid to
this. Have your tray perfectly clean, pour
this silver bath in it, and cut your sheet of
salted paper to the sizes you wish to use, lay
them carefully in this bath, face down, for
one minute, then pick up carefully by one
corner and hang up to dry—in subdued light ;
—be careful that metal of any kind does not
come in contact with the bath. When dry
they may be printed, and toned in the usual
way, although the plain gold bath gives the
best result.
prints, expose the paper to the fumes of
ammonia a few minutes before printing.

L. P. C., Newark, N. J., writes to ask
HOW TO NICKEL-PLATE WITHOUT A
BATTERY.

To nickel-plate without a battery, put into
the plating vessel a concentrated solution of
zine chloride, dilute it with from one to two
volumes of water, and heat to boiling. As
much powdered zine can be added as will
cover the point of a knife. This covers the
vessel inside with a coating of zinc. Then
nickel salt—either chloride or sulphate—is
added until the liquid is distinctly green.
Then put in the articles to be plated with
some fragments of zinc; continue the boiling
for fifteen minutes, when the nickel-plating
is completed. Well wash the articles with

water and clean with chalk.

Raymond, Massillon, Ohio, wants to know

HOW TO PLAY DUCK ON A ROCK.

I thought every boy knew this, but still it
is a good game for the spring, and I will
give directions as well as I can:

Duck should be played by a number ex-
ceeding three, but not more than six or
eight. A rock with a smooth top is placed
on or fixed into the ground, and a boundary
marked at eight or ten yards distance. Each
of the players provides himself with a flat
stone the size of a small horseshoe; one of
them, by chance or choice, becomes duck;
that is, he places the stone with which he is
going to play on the rock, and stands a
little on one side. The others then cast their
ducks at it, in turn, from’ the boundary,
each endeavoring to knock it off its place.
Each player, as soon as he has cast his duck,
watches for an opportunity of carrying it
back to the boundary, so as to cast again.
If the player who is duck can touch him
after he has taken up his stone, and before
he reaches the boundary, provided his own
stone remains on the rock, then the player
so touched becomes duck. It sometimes
happens that three or four of the out-
players’ ducks lie so closely together that
the player who is duck can stand in a situa-
tion to be within reach’of all of them; in
this case, they cannot, without running the
risk of being “touched, pick up, until one
of those who are at the boundary is lucky
enough to strike the duck off the rock; then,
before its owner can replace it, which he
must do before hé can touch a player, they
all take up their ducks and run to the
boundary, where, of course, they are safe.

HOW TO CLIMB A TREE.

M. P. D., Keene, N. H., inquires if there
is any way to climb a tree which has no
limbs anywhere near the ground. Of course
there is, and I will tell you how. Get a piece
of rope large enough to go round the trunk
of the tree and leave about three feet over.
Fasten one end around the trunk in the
shape of a slip-noose. Of the other end,
make a sort of stirrup for the right foot.
Insert your foot into this, and draw your-
self up a short distance by the use of your
arms. Then pull up your right foot and the
loose noose will follow. When the foot is
drawn up as far as you can bring it, rest
your weight on the stirrup, and the noose
around the tree will tighten just in propor-
tion as you rest more of your weight upon
it. This is the whole of the principle. Every
time you hold on by your hands, and relax
the weight upon the noose, it will slip along
the trunk, but the instant weight is added
to it, it will girt the tree tightly and sup-
port you,

POWER IN THE BREATH—A SIMPLE
EXPERIMENT WHICH ILLUSTRATES
THE FORCE OF THE LUNGS.
Everybody is familiar with that little

trick of filling a paper bag with air from

the mouth and then making it explode with

a report like that of a pistol, but very few

people know how great a force may be ex-

_ erted in this way.

_ Here is an experiment that any one may

make, and the result is so surprising to those

If you wish a purple tone to}

 

CHODO DD

who have never attempted it that it is
well worth attention.

Get a long, narrow bag of strong paper
and lay it flat on the edge of the table, with
the mouth toward you. Then lay weights
upon the bag, gradually increasing, and
blow into it, and you will be astonished at
how much your breath will lift. Aftera
little practice—and the practice will help to
expand your lungs and chest—you may
easily upset two big books as large as a
directory.

i
{This Story Will Not be Published in Book-Form, ]

Campaigning With Braddock;

OR,

FIGHTING ALLIED FOES.

A TALE OF COLONIAL DAYS.

Sallie SS Steeda

BY WILLIAM MURRAY GRAYDON,

Author of “The Lost Opal of Mysore,” “In Bar-
racks and Wigwam,” “The White King
of Africa,” ete,

icone

 

 

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

CHAPTER XXV.
IN WHICH DANIEL MORGAN TAKES A HAND
TO SOME EFFEOT.

(2z>5
>)e OR a few seconds after young Lud-
‘= low’s insulting and unprovoked act,
‘ by not a man moved or spoke, and all
oS eyes were turned curiously on Roger.
The lad’s face was red with passion, and he
did not leave much time or doubt as to how
he would resent his treatment. He paid no
attention to the liquor that was dripping
from his hair and cheeks, but, with a hasty
movement, he wiped the few drops from
his stinging eyes. Then, with a sudden step
forward, he swung his right hand, and
landed a terrific slap on his enemy’s cheek.

The blow rang through the room like the
report of a pistol. Young Ludlow reeled to
one side, and his cheek grew instantly
crimson and purple,

‘¢?]] kill you for that, you low dog of a
provincial,’’ he cried, hoarsely;.and_ clap-
ping one hand to his sword, he whipped the
blade out of itsscabbard with a harsh rattle.

‘*So you’re not satisfied yet?’’ exclaimed
Roger. ‘‘Coward! would you draw on a de-
fenseless man? Take that for your knavery
—and that!”’

As he spoke, he darted closer, and before
the other could make a thrust, he struck
him such a blow on the arm that the
weapon clattered to the floor; he followed it
up with a second slap in the face, for the
lad’s blood was now heated beyond control,
and he was reckless of consequences.

Maddened by pain and rage, and by the
taunting cries and jeers ot his comrades,
Ludlow now sprang like a wolf at his assail-
ant, and rained a shower of blows at his
head and breast. Roger warded some of
them off, and began to retreat slowly back-
ward under the furious attack. He was at a
disadvantage, owing to the smarting of his
half-blinded eyes, and when he received a
crack on the mouth, and one on the ear, he
determined to end the unequal contest.

So he watched his chance, and threw him-
self suddenly upon Ludlow, gripping him by
the throat with both hands. The other, fear-
ing that his life was in danger, fought hard
to break the suffocating hold and called for
help in muffled tones. He was borne first to
his knees, and then he went over on his back
with Roger on top of him.

The whole affair had transpired in brief
time, but a fraction of a minute having
elapsed since the flinging of the liquor in the
young provincial’s face. The officers, here-
tofore fixed and dumb witnesses of the
scene, now broke into angry clamor. Some
few urged that the combatants should be
allowed to fight it out without interference,
but the greater part cursed and threatened
Roger.

‘‘Stand aside there, gentlemen!’’ shouted
old Daniel Morgan, who saw that the time
had come for him to take a hand, ‘‘'l’he
provincial lad’s the injured party, but I say
give ’em both fair play.”’

‘*Keep a civil tongue in your head, and
get out of the way,’’ cried Lieutenant. Tris-
cott. ‘‘Don’t try to meddle with gentlemen,
you country clodhopper.’’

The old teamster had taken a drop too
much ale, and was in a pugnacious mood.

‘*A country clodhopper, am I??? he
growled, making a step nearer, ‘‘ And what
do you call yourself, you painted and pow-
dered popinjay. I’ll teach you manners——”’

But Lieutenant Triscott was not listening.
He had drawn his sword, and as the two
lads rolled toward him over the floor, each
gripping the other desperately, he brought
the flat of his blade heavily down on Roger’s
back,

‘*Let go, you ruffian!’’ he cried, with an
oath. ‘‘Let go, or I’ll spit you between the
ribs like a——”’

‘The brutal officer was not permitted to
finish his threat, for just at that instant
Morgan’s huge fist struck him squarely be-

 

 

‘stunned amid the wreckage; the inn-keeper,

NEWS.

tween the eyes, and down he crashed, like
a felled ox. The little tap-room echoed with
fierce cries, and curses, and half a dozen
swords gleamed. Morgan realized his peril,
and anticipated the attack by hurling him-
self upon the three men who were nearest.
Others sped to the rescue, and in less time
than it takes to tell, the old teamster was
down, with a mass of redcoats toppling and
tumbling over him. :

The scene that: followed was both a thrill-
ing and ludicrous one, and was in after years
a favorite topic with the frequenters of the
Fairfax Arms. Roger and young Ludlow,
blind and deaf to the general scuffle around
them, rolled in the direction of the door.
They twisted over and over, breaking each
other’s hold only to grapple the harder, and
floundering against pieces of furniture.

In the middle of the room Daniel Morgan
was making a hard fight of it, though well-
nigh overpowered by force of numbers.
Twice the brawny old teamster nearly suc-
ceed in rising, only to be forced down again.
The third time he actually got to his feet,
and clasping one arm about a young officer
as a shield against the threatening swords,
he tried to make progress backward toward
the door.

‘*1}1 larn you a lesson, you British dan-
dies,’’ he howled. ‘‘ You make-believe, pop-
injay soldiers! Would you tackle a man
who’s been brought up on raw meat, an’ old
ale? JI’ll show you——”’

Just then the teamster went down, but
he was quickly up again and moving, sur-
rounded bya circle of foes. The officers
were infuriated, and they would have used
their swords without hesitation had they been
able to do so without injuring their own
friends. The clamor and threats grew louder
as Morgan pressed on toward the door, deal-
ing sweeping blows with one arm, and with
the other squeezing the half-crushed young
officer in front of him.

Meanwhile the struggling lads had rolled
under one of the tables, a leg of which came
in forcible contact with Ludlow’s head. The
pain weakened him, and Roger, seeing his
advantage, broke the other’s grip and pinned
him down by the arms.

‘‘Have you had enough now?’’ he de-
manded. ‘‘Own up that you’re beaten, and
beg my pardon for what you did; then I’ll
let you go.’’

‘*Never !’’ hissed Ludlow. ‘‘17ll fight you
till I die, you low provincial clown !”’

He suddenly tore one of his arms loose,
and fetched Roger a sharp blow in the eye.

Just then Daniel Morgan, hard pressed by
a rally of his foes, reeled heavily on the top
of the table. Two legs gave way, and the
structure descended on Roger and his assail-
ant, pinning them fast to the floor.

The teamster turned a somersault, landing
on the farther side. He still bad his body-
guard fast, and when he. got to his feet,
ready and eager to renew the fight, his yell-
ing and cursing enemies were on all sides of
him.

But the furniture was in the way, and
this gave the old man considerable of an ad-
vantage. To and fro he swayed, striking
blows right and left. Table after table went
down in the scuffle, spattering ale in all di-
rections, and sending mugs and flagons roll-
ing over the floor.

It was a sight to be remembered—the
brawny old man towering above the circle
of redcoats and gleaming blades; the vic-
tims of his horny fists nursing black eyes
and bleeding noses; Lieutenant Triscott,
bruised and battered, lying dazed and

like a man distracted, running here and
there with frantic and unheeded appeals.

Above the clamor of the angry officers
rang the muffled tones of Roger and young
Ludlow, who were still pinned fast by the
table. In the rear of the tan-room'two maid-
servants were shrieking at the top of their
voices, and the tumult had drawn a knot of
spectators to the open door of the inn—
hostlers, citizens, colonial and regular pri-
vates, and a couple of richly dressed plan-
ters. In the background, Benjamin Franklin
was holding up his hands in horror, and ap-
pealing vainly to the crowd to avert blood-
shed.

However, the fight was very near its fin-
ish. Morgan was still holding his own against
desperate odds when there was a hoarse out-
cry from the street, and a moment later,a
file of soldiers rushed with drawn bayonets
into the tap-room. At their head was a fero-
cious and frowning sergeant.

‘‘In the king’s name, cease your brawl-
ing!’ he cried. ‘‘Gertlemen, you are under
arrest by command of Major-General Brad-
dock.’’

‘“‘That don’t mean me!’’ shouted the
plucky old teamster. ‘‘Braddock be hanged
for a meddling old fool! He don’t lay hands
on me agin!’

As the officers fell back a little, sobered
by the interference from headquarters, Mor-
gan saw his chance to escape. He snatched
up a heavy bench that was beside him,
cleared a passage by swinging it right and
left, and then made a swift dash that car-
ried him to the back door of the inn, and
thence to freedom.

A hoarse clamor arose, and the sergeant

yelled, loudly:
‘Stop him! Stop him! Don’t let the

 

knave get away !”’

Part of the one e and some of the offi- |

cs

a a cnn eens

cers, started in pursuit of the teamster, and
in the midst of the confusion Roger and
young Ludlow managed to crawl from under
the fallen table.

CHAPTER XXVI.
IN WHICH COLONEL WASHINGTON LOSES HIS

TEMPER.
SS
S| fi)
PD

OTS

Y command of the sergeant, who had

already been informed of the origin
of the row, the lads were at once
seized. Both looked badly used up;
each having a black eye, and several ugif
bruises, while the streaks of perspiration
and rum on his face gave Roger the worsé
appearance of the two. He was still too
angry to answer the questions of the ser
geant, and this young Ludlow indignantly
refused to do, declaring that he would be
examined before an officer of superior rank,
or not at all.

However, most of the officers present vol
unteered explanations, trying to cast the
blame on Roger. In defense of the lad, Isaae
Witter pluckily spoke up, and the sergeant,
who seemed to'be a fair-minded fellow;
concluded to reserve his opinion.

‘‘T know my orders, and I’m going
carry them out,’’? he said. ‘‘It’s not tw@
days since General Braddock forbade fight
ing and brawling, and here’s an unsightly
row taking place within sight and sound
headquarters. Word of it came to him, a2
he sent me to bring the disturbers of th?
peace before him, busy as he is.

‘* As for you,’’ addressing Roger and young
Ludlow, ‘‘why, it’s plain that you bot

5

AY

\

  
 

 

helped to begin the quarrel, so I’ll take they)

two of you along. There’ll be witnesse?
needed for both sides, and I summon you @
speak for the provincial lad, Mr. Inn-keepe!
I?ll warrant t’other chap will have chal’
pions enough.”’

“‘That he will,’? muttered Isaac Wittel
‘‘f’ll come right gladly.”’

“Tf my men return with the rascally
teamster—which I’m not expecting they
will,’? continued the sergeant, ‘‘send the™
straight to headquarters. Gentlemen, will
two of you accompany me?’?

He designated by name Sir
worth and Captain Wood.

The officers readily assented, and the s@!
geant turned to Roger and young Ludlow. ,,

‘‘Now, then, my lads—forward, march: s

{scorted by five soldiers, the little party
left the inn, and pressed through the crow,
assembled around the door-way. ‘Those 0%
cers who had been hurt in the scrimmag®

James Went

were left to the care of the maid-servall’y =

who were already bringing bandages @?
basins of warm water. Among the numbels
fortunately for Roger, was Lieutenan:
Triscott. He was likely to feel the effects a
the blow from Morgan’s powerful fist
several days to come. a

General Braddock’s headquarters wee
very close ,at hand, but the march theret
was attended with considerable excitemeh™
A dense and noisy throng followed the 8%,
geant’s party, some hooting at the kings
men, and others jeering and ridiculing © It -
flushed and- disheveled provincial la@. 4
needed but a spark to precipitate a genera
riot, and the sergeant was heartily relieve
when he reached and entered the big gate
way of Colonel Carlisle’s house. op

The regulars took their stand here to ke Q
the crowd in check with bayonets, while
others, pressed rapidly up the g
and mounted the high flight of stone §
Roger felt seriously alarmed, for he had dip
seen Captain Trent’s eyes fixed upon h
with a look of sorrow and dismay.

The sentry admitted the party to the 4
of the mansion, and after a brief delay, | ty
were ushered into a large room on the ng
furnished with a luxury and taste that of
comparatively rare in those days, To Rog d
the scene was a positive enchantment, jy
he felt that even King George’s pala rac?
London could not be a more wonderful Pigs |
than this. He almost forgot his trou?™ jad |
he stared at the paintings on the walls; pets a
the big clock in the corner, the soft cal ic 4
and the brass-trimmed furniture. 18
dent amazement, and that of the inn-K@y,
afforded no little amusement to the 0 jjvei |
and young Ludlow, who bore them
with a jaunty and confident manner. e

But the lad’s dream did not last 1008 gpd
remembered that he was a prisonel, pe
likely to pay dear for his pluck, whe ate i
saw the British commander-in-chié d
behind a mahogany table—a cout! ands
richly dressed gentleman, but with bié gut
some face marred by a look of arroga!®
fretfuless. : pole

It was clear that Braddock had bee? nat ~
ing a council of some sort, and that tO 0
ters under discussion had caused him *457e0—
ance. Seated near him were half @ owt
British officers of high rank, and oP oni
wore the sober uniform of ‘the oto “
forces. The latter was Colonel Wash! of pit
and as he saw and recognized ROB row?
stern face was made more stern by # ;
of displeasure. u

‘‘This is a pretty state of affairs!
dock exclaimed, angrily. ‘‘Did 1 Tatty
orders against fighting? And now (| jie
terrupted by a drunken brawl] almos {160 yp
sound of headquarters. Sergeant Ra ty ae
am ready to hear you; and, I pray? —
brief.’? x

pry
+ ist

   

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ravel Peps t
ist 4

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a

ee

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‘Sir, here are the prisoners,’’ the ser-

Zeant replied. He placed his hands on the

 

 

  

 

  
 
   

 
  

  

i Shoulders of Roger and young Ludlow, and
briefly stated what he had seen and learned
On entering the inn. ‘‘It’s my belief that
both lads are equally to blame,’’ he con-
18 cluded, ‘‘and Captain Wood and Sir James
HIF bi Wentworth will tell you——”’
“*Keep your opinion to yourself,’’ inter-
rupted Braddock. ‘‘Stand aside. I will hear
nad 2?
gin these gentlemen next.’
nce He nodded to the officers in question, who
up Successively gave their versions of the
olf : trouble. Though they were in the main
Fon Tuthful, they managed to give the impres-
5x86 Sion that Roger had been almost wholly to
too E Blame, and had invited the quarrel by his
ser- ; Temark about the contractor, Garwood, and
ntly J ls obstinacy in refusing to take a friendly
be @ oat with young Ludlow and his brother
' cers.
valk A This distortion of facts roused the indig-
vol- 5a Nation of Isaac Witter, and when the honest
the & Ollow was called upon to speak in behalf of
saac } Roger, he became badly tangled up and
anit, Confused. As a result, he did the lad more
low, arm than good, and he was finally escorted
from the room by Sergeant Railton.
» +0 General Braddock sternly eyed the lads,
two Who now stood alone before him.
ght- } Ba tt’s a reasonably clear case,’’ he said.
pathy { There has been too much of this sort of
4 of 4 mg.
a He fumbled for a moment with the hand-
e the SOme seals that dangled from his waistcoat,
€nd then shook a finger half playfully at
sung Young Ludlow. His expression had softened,
poth 4nd there wus a kindly note in his voice, as
the: — © said: ;
esses ‘Master Herbert, I fear you are a sad
pu tO 0g. 1 brought you across the sea to serve
oper Me loyally and obediently; to learn the
hale lities of an officer on my staff—not to fre-
Went the tap-rooms of inns, and pick quar-
itters » els with these pugnacious provincials, You
, Ust learn to keep your temper under con-
cally Ol. If this happens again, I shall have to
they Write to your father in London.’’
them Master Ludlow made a courteous bow.
will i ‘Sir,’’ he replied, ‘‘I trust I shall always
_ #0 my duty to you and to my country. If I
Went- ; a to-day it was through excess of
y» sere he “Yes, I believe you,’’ assented Braddock.
ow. be? doubt you meant well. But, in future,
rch! ) j, More careful. I dislike to see gentlemen
party — *awling like common soldiers.”’
wow" oh ® turned to Roger, and at once he was
6 offi- "(8 former self again—cold, arrogant, and
mage 1th anger and displeasure lurking in his
yants; Sep-set eyes.
; and ., + our name?’’ he demanded.
mbes (poger Berkeley, sir.’’
renant ff Are you a soldier?’’
cts (i am, sir.’?
ot fob ae . n officer or a private?’’
«et th here was a touch of mocking sarcasm in
were b © question that made the lad’s cheeks
perel? mn.
jment- lia am a private,’’ Roger answered, ‘‘and
e sel” eo} ORS to Captain Trent’s company of the
king? wadial forces.’’
1g a 1 «when did you enlist?’?
id. a DY) hast April, sir.”
onerts «then you have seen fighting?’’
eliev? Ca I have, sir,’’? Roger replied. ‘‘I was with
: gate ley tain Trent, at the head of the Ohio Val-
at hod I fought under Colonel Washington,
o eek ett Necessity last July.’’
ile the 1 the» bere is less excuse for your conduct,
; pathy a. sneered Braddock. ‘‘Experience
stePe ey of Mld have made you wiser. The tap-room
ad ee ari & public inn is no place to air your
vn De & ogy ances. I understand that you spoke of
By Mh "tain contractor named Garwood in a
he es Tip Her that reflected upon myself and Ad-
Lys ; ) \ka. eppel.”’ ‘
5 right ty Sir, it is a mistake,’’ exclaimed Roger.
hat ~ Wor, Sant nothing of the sort, nor did my
Rosey ha Be Warrant any in thinking so. Yet
nt, an Wo? that I spoke sharply of this man Gar-
plac? ag “Pron? Which he deserved for breaking a
ul pias j pe qqise——? ?
uble’ id ie a it pass,’’? interrupted Braddock.
IIs: ot, ee i are not on trial now, young man.
cartes 1 in, ¥ Case is sottied, and the evidence is all
is of ef am merely reviewing it for your own
“Kees this ut. It is perfectly plain that you picked
’ off Meg, arrel with premeditation. You
g8e" an ligngct at the officers for indulging in such
fo ~ they FS as suited their palates, and’ when
ong" ad tg tVitea you to drink with them you
nels “pe Seng €d that honor with disrespect. ‘lo ‘ac-
wpe? ced of a Would have been no more than the part
of sed f Sentleman: to refuse was the act of a
roy ond i Ay Nd a churl.”?
\i8 beg P Nite his some of Braddock’s companiens
ance ae ®xate and Washington bit bis lips with
pol” g thug - - Master Ludlow seemed to be
peD na the, e8 ing with his better impulses, and
th? oy Mm gthe Was a trace of contrition in his eyes
n a oo \ Blanced at his late foe. Roger was
4 ie, 2S his temper, and there was de-

, Praga at his attitude as he took a step nearer

    
    

  
 
 
 
 
 
   
   

» ofti0 £ as
shine 1a xa aman to have no willof his own?’’
BF f i ong. “imed, hotly. ‘‘I have never used
a one oe drinks, nor do I intend to learn. For
“ pyal ha “Son did I refuse, and for that reason
t face, hoop of fiery liquor dashed into my
po ; ask you, sit, who forgot the part of
I mat myself, or this young officer

  

®m
Shea)

 
 

lo : d
»,79U dare to be insolent in my pres-

  
 
     

Seizing a quill, he began to write rapidly
on a sheet of paper, and for a moment the
silence was unbroken.

Then Herbert Ludlow stepped impulsively
forward.

General Braddock, I ask your permission
to speak,’’ he said, firmly. ‘‘I have been
thinking over what happened, and I am now
convinced that I was wrong. “lt would ill
become me to let this brave young soldier,
who has fought for England, be punished
for a fault that was not his. I alone was to
blame. I tried to force bim to drink, hoping
to make sport for myself and my compan-
ions, and when he steadily refused, I flung
the liquor in his face. That fact led to the
fight, and I sincerely deplore it.’’

He turned to Roger, and held out his hand.

‘*Pray, forgive me, sir,’’ he said, with a
winning smile, ‘‘and take this as a token.”’

‘‘With all my heart,’’ exclaimed Roger,
clasping the proffered hand; and he meant
what he said.

Braddock scowled at both lads.

‘“*This confession comes rather late, Mas-

but a youthful impulse of pity on your
part. Yet I have no choice but to pardon
this lad.

‘*‘Be warned by your narrow escape, sir,’’
he added, with an angry shake of his finger
at Roger. ‘‘You are evidently a rude and
quarrelsome fellow, and if you are brought
before me a second time, you will not get
off so lightly. In spite of what Master Lud-
low says, I am satisfied that your sillly scru-
ples against drinking caused this disgraceful
fight. It was your duty, sir, to accept the
honor that was offered you——”’

‘*General Braddock, I can keep silence no
longer,’’ interrupted a stern voice. ‘‘ Will
you consent to hear me?”’

The speaker was Colonel George Washing-
ton. He had risen to his feet, and with fire
in his eyes and a flush on his face, he was
standing over the British commander.

CHAPTER XXVII.

IN WHICH GENERAL BRADDOCK RECEIVES A
LETTER.

PAUSE followed this act of inter-

ference. Some of the officers moved

restlessly in their chairs, while others
Ne cleared their throats with unneces-
sary gusto or uttered dry and sneering
‘tahems.’’ General Braddock looked more
surprised than resentful. He elevated his
eyebrows until they almost met the powdered
front of his hair.

‘Colonel Washington, I am ready to listen
to anything you have to say,’’ he remarked,
superciliously.

Washington bowed.

‘‘T will not tax your time and patience
long, sir,’’ he said, in a voice that trembled
with suppressed emotion. ‘‘I- shall come
straight to the point. I have listened to the
arraignment of this lad, Roger Berkeley,
and it was shown most clearly by the evi-
dence that he was not the aggressor in the
quarrel. Yet you persisted in regarding him
as such, and even when he was nobly
cleared by the young culprit, you censured
him in a manner that would hardly have
been justified had he been really guilty. Nor
is this a single case——’’

‘‘Golonel Washington, you forget your-
self,’’ Braddock interrupted, sharply.‘‘ Your
tone and words are unwarranted. Am I on
trial, sir, or do you labor under a delusion?
I consider this a piece of impudence and
presumption.’’ :

‘‘T am sorry that you do, sir,’’ replied
Washington, ‘‘and I am still more sorry
that I cannot agree with you. I feel it my
duty to speak plainly, and it is only out of
respect for your age and rank that I have
kept silence in the past. This innocent lad
has been born and bred among the simple
‘and hardy pioneers of the New World, in
surroundings where pure water was his only
drink. Am I to understand that your words
were sincere—that you censure him for re-
fusing to burn bis throat and stupefy his
senses with strong liquor? I am loath to be-
lieve so——-”’

‘‘Sir, this is unbearable,’’ Braddock cried,
angrily. ‘‘By heavens! I will have no more

of it. You are guilty of gross disrespect—

of insolence and impertinence. Have a
)

care—— :

‘You shall hear me out, sir,’? Washing-
ton exclaimed, fearlessly. ‘‘ As I said before,
this is not a single case, It is one of many,
and it serves to illustrate a state of things
which has existed since the arrival of your
armament in the Potomac, and which I have
witnessed with heartfelt sorrow and regret.
In a few words——’”’

‘(Let them .be very few, sir,’? thundered
Braddock, who was now trembling with
passion. ‘‘And, remember, I shall not over-
look your insubordination,”’

‘In a few words,’’ firmly resumed Wash-
ington, ‘‘I will explain my meaning. Be-
tween the men and officers of your army
and of the colonial forces there exists an
open and bitter feeling, and it is one for
which those in high authority are mainly
responsible. These insolent fellows, fresh
from the Old World, regard the provincials
with contempt, and even hatred. They lose

‘

ter Ludlow,’’ he muttered, ‘‘and I fear it is; spoken some plain truths.

NEW S.

5

 

held to blame. And it seems that his maj-
esty the king sanctioned and encouraged
this state of affairs since he empowered you
to deprive colonial officers of their rank so
long as they were under your direct com-
mand——’’

‘‘This is treason, Colonel Washington,’’
cried. Braddock; and there was a nodding of
heads in assent.

‘‘Tt is not treason, sir,’’ declared Wash-
ington. ‘‘I have the best interests of my
country at heart. But under existing cir-
cumstances, the injustice of which I see no
reason to believe can be remedied, I have
but one course open to me. Duty and _re-
spect to my friends forbid me to remain
longer in your service. I therefore do now
resign my commission.’’

‘‘Which decision I heartily approve,’’
thundered Braddock. ‘‘I am glad to be rid
of you.”’

‘*That you may have no cause to repent
that opinion, sir, is my sincere wish and
prayer,’’ replied Washington. ‘‘And I trust
we shall not part in anger, thoygh I have
Before I leave
your presence, let me commend yonder lad

toger Berkeley, to your attention. I believe
he can be useful to you in many ways. He
has already proved himself to be brave and
fearless in battle, and since his life has been
spent mainly in the wilderness, you will find
him a master of woodcraft. Moreover, he is
thoroughly acquainted with the Ohio coun-
try’?

‘*] need no advice from you, Colonel Buck-
skin,’’ said Braddock, in a sneering and ugly
tone, ‘‘and the sooner you rid me. of your
presence——’’

‘*That Ishall do at once.”

With a grave bow to Braddock and his
officers, the young Virginia colonel turned
away. As he passed the table, Roger im-
pulsively caught his hand, and spoke a few
whispered words of gratitude.

Washington patted the lad on the shoulder.

‘Stick to your training, my boy,’’ he
said, ‘‘and be true to God and your country.
May you prosper as you deserve! I regret
that I am no longer in a position to advance
your interests.’’ :

With that, he strode across the room, look-
ing neither to right nor left, and the door
closed behind him.

At once the officers began to laugh and
jest, and their outspoken opinions of Colonel
Buckskin, as they sneeringly called the Vir-
ginian, made Roger’s cheeks burn with
anger. He longed to tell these haughty Brit-
ishers what he thought of them.

‘*Silence, gentlemen, if you please!*’ com-
manded Braddock, though his tone and
manner indicated that he was in accord with
the remarks of his officers.

He turned with a frown to Roger, who
was Still standing awkwardly before the
table. He was evidently angered by the
lad’s presumption in addressing Washington,
and there is no telling to what measures his
displeasure might have led him, had not his
attention been turned to another channel by
a sudden and noisy passage of words out in
the hall.

Almost immediately the clamor ceased,
and the door opened to admit Sergeant
Railton. He advanced to the desk, and
handed General Braddock a sealed paper.

‘Hor you, sir,’’? he announced. “It was
brought by a boatman from down the river.
The fellow was dirty and wet, and I refused

let him come in.

7 ‘Quite right,’’ assented Braddock. ‘‘Stand
aside,’ he added to Roger. ‘‘I am done
with you for the present.”’

He broke the seal, opened the paper, and
began to examine the contents.

Sergeant Railton left the room, and
Roger, misunderstanding his instructions,
started to follow. But young Ludlow quietly
intercepted him, and drew him a little to
one side. : ’
‘‘J¥m afraid the general is not quite
through with you,’’ he whispered. *‘He
wants to see you later. Don’t worry—it
will all come right in the end.’’ d

“I’m not afraid,’’ Roger answered, a lit-
tle stiffly, ‘‘I’ve done nothing wrong.”’

“‘T know that,’’ continued Ludlow, - ‘‘T
was entirely to blame. But I’m not as bad
as you think I am—really I’m not. You see,
those chaps egged me on, and then I had
been drinking a bit. And I didn’t know you
were a soldier, and had actually seen service
against the French and Indians. I heard
what Colonel Washington said about you,
and 1 would like to be friends with such a
brave fellow. So, if you truly forgive me,
and have no ill-feelings——

‘““T told you : eee you,’’ assured Roger,
“e neant it.

ant fied the face of the handsome young
Britisher, and was quite ready to overlook a
fault that had been so nobly atoned for.
he had long felt a craving for the

Moreover, He :

companionship of a lad of his own age.
“Phen we are friends?’’ asked Herbert

Ludlow

‘‘With all my heart,’’ Roger answered.

Just then Braddock looked up from the
aper he had been reading, and turned to
is cers.

pea eaten: htre is news,’’ hesaid. ‘*The
merchant ship Surrey Queen, from the port
of London, entered the Potomac a day or
two ago. Last night, in consequence of the

miles below Alexandria. This letter is from
Captain Wills, and he sent it by a boatman,
who ventured out to the vessel at daybreak.’’

‘*The ship made a good passage, if she
sailed on the date fixed,’’? remarked Sir
James Wentworth. ‘‘If the wind shifts, she
will likely be up the river by to-morrow
morning.’’

‘*That will not suit me, sir,’’ Braddock
exclaimed, petulantly. ‘‘You are all aware
that Sir Rawdon Marriott, a member of my
staff, ison board the Surrey Queen. You are
also aware that he postponed his departure
with the fleet in order to receive from his
majesty certain late information bearing on
the trouble with France. No doubt, Sir
Rawdon was charged to deliver the dis-
patches to me in person, and, knowing their
importance, he should have risked some in-
convenience to accompany the messenger up
the river. Instead of that, he sends word
through Captain Wills that he will report to
me when the ship arrives at Alexandria.
These dispatches are of an urgent nature,
gentlemen, and I must have them in my
hands before to-morrow morning.’’

As Braddock made this emphatic declara-
tion, there was a commotion in the hall.
Again the door opened, and Sergeant Rail-
ton and a soldier entered the room. Between
them they led a man, whose appearance at
once strongly attracted Roger’s attention.

(TOBE CONTINUED.)
a
{This Story Will Not Be Published in Book-Form.]

THE BOY BOOMERS.
A STORY OF FRONTIER JOURNALISM

— +

BY HARRY DANGERFIELD,

Author of ‘Don Kirk's Mine,” “The Boy Cattle
King,” “The Boy from the West,” etc.”

(“THE Boy BOOMERS,” was commenced in No.
307. Back numbers can be obtained of all News
Agents.)

>

CHAPTER XXXI1.
THE RIVALRY GROWS WARM.

OU’LL have to answer this, Jud,’’
| said Joe, angrily. ‘‘We must let ’em
hear from us.”’

‘*There’s where you are away off,
Joe,’’ declared the older boy. ‘‘The best
thing we can do is to keep still, and not pay
the least attention to anything this paper
may say.’?

Joe was astonished.

‘*T never heard of a paper doing anything
like that,’’ he asserted. ‘‘Newspapers is al-
wus rowing with each other. I never worked
on one that didn’t speak in a slurrin’ way
of its ‘esteemed contemporary.’ ”’
‘‘Anybody would think you had had a
vast experience in newspaper offices. I know
what you say is true about most country
papers, but we’ll try to make this paper
somewhat different.’

‘*And do you mean to keep still, and let
them fellers blackguard us? An’t you goin’
to fight back at all?’’

“‘It is possible that silence will prove more
effective than anything we could say in the
Boomer. It will seem as if we scorned to
notice them, and I rather fancy that will be
exasperating. You know I have not men-
tioned that another paper was to be started

 
  

41 in the place.’’

‘*You mentioned that a man named Silver
had brought printing presses and material
into town.’’

‘*But that was all, and I do not believe in
saying another thing about it. If we keep
still, they will not have any real cause for
a row with us, and their abuse of us will
arouse sympatby for us.’’

‘*Mebbe so,’’ said Joe; ‘‘but it seems a
queer way to do.”’

However, Joe had come to believe in
Jud’s superior wisdom, so he was not stub-
born, and the policy of ignoring the exist-
ence of the Red Horse Hustler was decided
upon.

When’ Rhodes Walker became aware of
this, he seemed to feel hurt and grieved.
‘‘It seems like lying down and letting
them wipe theix feet on us,’’ he said. ‘‘I
don’t believe init. If anybody hitsme, lam
going to hit back. Wouldn’t I like to write
a little article touching them up! Well,
I guess yes! I would begin about like this:
‘The short-witted galoots who brought a
superannuated printing outfit into town a
short time ago have gotten out a sickly,
consumptive, imbecile sheet, which they
have the colossal gall to term a newspaper.
The paper itself looks as if it had been
printed with axle-grease for ink, and its
contents is a sickly conglomeration of drivil,
gall, insolence, vapidity, and -senility that
makes its -appearance in a booming, pro-
gressive, go-ahead town like Red Horse an
insult to the good taste and intelligence of
this community. The publishers of this
slovenly and vulgar sheet have the insolence
to demand subscriptions under pressure of a

threat, stating that their agent will call

 

 

no opportunity of provoking quarrels by

hen

 

itd), ried Braddock. ‘‘A week in the
Rhiag te will tame your spirit, and you

   
   
 

8 it, hy heavens !’?

sneering words and base epithets, and w

he prov

a brawl oecure it is t incials who are

violent nerth wind and boisterous waves,
she Was compelled to cast anchor five or, gix

round to collect with a gun.

We do not be-
lieve the high-spirited citizens of Red’ Horne

  
S

 

will be cajoled or frightened into taking
sor eng they do not want, and the agent
for this bullying sheet is liable to run against
a severe fit of sickness in the shape of an in-
jection of cold lead. The Boomer was first
in the field, and it seems to meet the ap-
proval of the citizens of Red Horse, who
may be assured that the publishers mean
business, and will continue to issue their
paper regularly, for all of the lying and
libelous reports that envious rivals may seek
to put in circulation.’’——

‘There!’ concluded the tramp printer,
with a flourishing sweep of hisarm; ‘‘that’s
the way I would jump on those galoots,’’

‘‘That’s first-rate,’’ laughed Jud; ‘‘but
what good would it do?’’

‘*What good would it do? Why, it would
be hitting them back, and hitting straight
from the shoulder.’’

‘“‘That’s all right, but they would take
their turn by kicking back at us; and, from
what I have seen, in looking over the files
ot the Boomer, I should say that Horace
Greeley Grant is a pastmaster in the com-
mand of insulting Janguage, so it would not
be possible to get the best of him. Believing
this, and also believing it is impossible to
touch pitch without getting daubed with it,
I propose to remain silent.’?’

**Oh, well, Ian’t running the paper; if
I was, I’d do as I wanted to, and I suppose
that’s what you’ll do. About the only way
I see of getting satisfaction is to meet that
brother of mine, some dark night, and give
him a thunderiag licking.’

After the Hustler appeared, a number of
citizens strolled into the Boomer office, and
took pains to point out to the boys the arti-
cle that referred to them. Some asked the
lads what they were going to do about it,
and were greatly disappointed when they
failed to get any satisfactory answer. Jud
had a way of smiling quietly whenever his
attention was called to what the rival paper
had said about the Boomer, and he did not
seem in the least disturbed when the twenti-
eth individual walked in and asked him if
he had read it. On the other hand, little
Joe grew more and more angry, and but for
Jud’s advice to keep cool, he might have
been led to express himself forcibly to some
of the callers.

Work continued to come into the boys, in
spite of the appearance of the rival concern,
and many citizens were inclined to give the
lads words of encouragement, which kind-
ness was fully appreciated.

But little was seen of either Selkirk or
Bowie during the next few days. Both men
seemed to avoid the boys, as if afraid of be-
ing questioned.

ut Major Todd was very much in evi-
dence. He called often, but his calls were
not long ones, as he seemed to find it neces-
sary to ‘‘irrigate’’ once every thirty min-
utes, at most.

The major showed that there was a secret
movement in progress among the gamblers
and lawless men of the camp to get upa
‘‘snap election,’’? and run in Sanders’ as
mayor by taking the honest and quiet people
of the camp off their guard. Sanders, it was
said, had agreed to ‘‘protect’’ the saloons
and gambling dens of the town, and his tri-
umph would mean a certain set-back for law
and order.

Jud did a little canvassing on his own
hook, and it did not take bim long to dis-
cover that nobody in the place cared to
endanger his life by ‘‘bucking Bullion Bob,’’
if Major Todd were aceepted. As for the
pompous little major, he did not seem to
fear injury at Sanders’ hands, and Jud.be-
gan to believe that be would be forced to
support Todd or remain silent.

t was not long before he discovered it was
not going to be good policy to remain silent,
for both Sanders and the major came out
openly and worked ‘for their interests, and
the people who took the Boomer demanded
to know how-the paper stood on the issue.

Still, it was impossible to go in for the
major’s election with whole-hearted earnest-
ness. However, Jud wrote an article favor-
ing the election of an honest man, and end-
ing with the statement that of the two can-
didates in the field Major Todd was greatly
to be preferred. He also made reference to
the fact that new mining towns in the West
were always overrun with gamblers and des-
peradoes, and this class was sure to attempt
the election of one of its number to the
highest position of trust. In many towns
they had succeeded for a time, and they
hoped to be successful in Red Horse. They
supported a notorious gambler, whose elec-
tion would mean a sure and certain set-back
for the best interests of Red Horse, The
only way for the peopl to accomplish the
defeat of the lawless element was to hang
together and support Major Augustus Todd,
without regard to party lines or personal
prejudices.

As was expected, this article produced
something of a stir, and it set people to
considering the situation. It was found that
no one but the major cared to run against
Sanders, and so, from the time the Boomer
appeared with this article in it, the little
man’s support increased with a swiftness
that filled him with delight, and caused the
opposition to open their eyes in astonish-
ment and alarm.

In vain Horace Greeley Grant looked
through the Boomer for some mention of the
Hustler. Nowhere was there a reference to

the new paper, and he almost turned green
with envy when he realized the ‘‘children’’
had completely ignored the existence of a
rival sheet.

‘*That’s insolence!’’ he cried, furiousiy—
‘‘unmitigated and unbounded insolence! As
if we weren’t worth noticin’! Ill give it to
’6m to-morrow, see if I don’t!”’

The Boomer appeared on Wednesday, and
Thursday was the day of publication set for
the Hustler. So it came about that Grant
set about writing numerous caustic para-
graphs intended to draw derision and scorn
upon the boy publishers and their paper.

In this way he succeeded in giving the
Boomer a goodly amount of advertising,
which was not a little to its advantage.

\

CHAPTER XXXII,
JUD MAKES AN UNPLEASANT DISCOVERY,

MHE amateur paper published in this
e city by two lost children, who are yet
y scarcely out of kilts, and who know as
2H much in regard to the printing and
publishing business as a Governmept mule
knows about Latin, does not mention the
fact that Red Horse has at.last been given a
genuine first-class newspaper. Nevertheless,
the citizens of our metropolis-that-is-to-be
will discover we are here, just the same,
and here to stay.’’

‘‘Bring your job work to the Hustler
office, the only place in Red Horse to get
first-class printing done. This office is sup-
plied with material to do any kind of work,
from a lady’s visiting card to a full-sheet
poster, and do it in style, you bet your
boots! Don’t trust your work in inexperi-
enced hands. Come in, and see our modern,
up-to-date cylinder Hoe press slat off work
by the ton, and, before you leave, you may
drop $4 for a full year’s subscription to the
Hustier.”?

‘*Mr. Robert Sanders, our genial specu-
lator and enthusiastic sportsman, who will
be, without doubt, the popular choice for
mayor of Red Horse, when a city govern-
ment is organized, met with a riotous gent
from Hot Hole last evening, and the riotous
gent inveigled Mr. Sanders into a game of
draw poker, over in the Sweet Home
Saloon. At theYinish of the game the gent
from Hot Hole couldn’t find enough pay
dirt in his clothes to get two fingers of raz-
zle-juice to moisten his woozle, and he de-

arted a wiser and poorer man, Mr. Sanders
aughingly stated that he proposed to invest
his winnings in fireworks or firewater during
the coming local campaign, and the gent
from Hot Hole will be consoled, after elec-
tion, by the knowledge that he has aided in
celebrating the victory of a most worthy
and deserving gentleman.’’

‘*Our amateur contemporary raises a great
howl about gamblers and dishonest men hav-
ing anything to do with the coming election,
and it seems to designate some of our best
and most worthy citizens as either gamblers
or dishonest. This is an insult to the entire
population of Red Horse, and the babies
who are running the sniveling sheet should
be plainly and distinctly told to button up
or get out of the place. Under any circum-
stances, they have no cause whatever to
make a howl, as one of the people most seen
about that place is a successful professional
manipulator of the cards, and they are very
friendly with him. Woe are not going to call
any names, as such a course might be un-
healthy in this case, and everybody knows
who we mean, anyway. Geta nursing-bot-
tle, babies, and let the milk stop your
mouths. ’’

Jud and Joe had been looking over the last
issue of the Hustler together, and Jud read
the final paragraph aloud, his face getting
flushed as he did so. Little Joe turned pale,
and seemed scarcely able to keep still till
the end of the item was reached.

‘“*T can’t stand this, Jud—I can’t!’ he
cried. ‘‘If you don’t make some kind of an
answer, I’ll explode!’

‘*That would simply serve to get us in
deeper, by giving Grant an additional ex-
cuse for writing such insulting stuff,’’ said
Jud, with admirable self-repression. ‘‘Let’s
use some judgment about this, Joe.”’

‘Judgment! judgment!’’ palpitated the
lame boy. ‘‘Just read that last sentence
again! It’s bad enough to be called chil-
dren, but babies—Jupiter! that’s too much!
Oh, say, Jud! I reckon I’m gittin’ into the
ways out here, for I’ll be lynched if I don’t
feel like takin’ a gun, and goin’ over to call
on our ‘esteemed contemporary !’ ’?

‘*Oh, you will become a regular Westerner
in time,’’ smiled the older lad; ‘‘but what I
don’t understand is the statement that one
of the people seen hanging around this place
a great deal is a successful manipulator of
the cards.”’

‘tIn other words, a gambler.’’

‘Exactly.’?’

‘*Who is meant?”’

“That’s what I don’t know,.’’

“Tt can’t be Walker.”’

‘*Not much.”’ :

‘*Nor Major Todd.’’

‘tNo ”

‘‘Nor Bowie.”’
‘*T should say not, and still he’s the only
,one that can be meant, for he’s the only

 

 

j person that hangs round here a great deal.
Selkirk comes in now and—— Say!’’

NEWS.

 

‘What???’

‘*You don’t suppose Selkirk was meant?’’

‘*Tt can’t be! And if he was meant, I’ll
bet everything I’ve got that its a mean,
dirty lie! Selkirk is a natural gentleman,
for all of his Western ways, and you can’t
make me believe that he is a low gambler.’’

‘*T don’t sée who it can be, if it is not
him.’’

‘*It isn’t anybody. That was put into their
old paper to hurt us, and I don’t believe
there’s a word of truth in it.’’

Joe seemed quite confident that it was a
lie, but something seemed to tell Jud that
there was truth in the item. Long after the
lame boy had cooled off enough to continue
his work, Jud sat speculating on the mean-
ing of the item. He was obliged to confess
to himself that there was an unsolved mys-
tery about Selkirk. To begin with, he re-
called how, by the light of the fire in the
desert arroya, the man had produced a pack
of cards, and amused them with a number
of wonderful tricks, and he also remembered
how he had wondered to see the man’s long,
slender fingers curl caressingly about the
cards. There had seemed to be something
wonderfully deft and magical in Selkirk’s
touch and manner, as if he were accustomed
to handle the pasteboards frequently.

Continuing this line of thought, Jud re-
membered that Selkirk had never come out
flatly and proclaimed his business, but he
had avoided doing so in many ways, usually
by making some joking reply when ques-
tioned.

He had confessed that his business kept
him up a great deal nights, and why should
that be the case with any honest man in Red
Horse, unless he were connected with a
hotel, belonged to a night force of miners,
or was a physician?

Then it was easily recalled that Selkirk’s
language was frequently of a character to
arouse suspicion, being such as a gambler
might naturally fall into the habit of
using.

But more convincing than anything else
was the fact that Selkirk had appeared
‘broke’? a few days before, and had ac-
cepted the loan of money which Bowie had
made him give up. All at once the true
meaning of that singular scene flashed over
Jud, and he felt as if he had been struck a
heavy blow in the face.

‘‘] understand why he said it was wrong
for him to take the money,’’ muttered the
shocked and astonished lad. ‘‘He was going
to use it to gamble with. Now I can see that
Dave Selkirk is, in some respects, like other
gamblers I have seen; and yet, in most re-
spects, he isso unlike them that I never once
suspected him of being one.’’

At last there was no doubt and no hope
left in Jud’s mind. He seemed benumbed
and bewildered, and, fearing Joe would
come in and find him in that condition, he
hastily left the tent for the street. He had
not gone far when he met Major Todd.

‘*Ah!”’ cried the major, as he wrung the
boy’s hand with enthusiasm.
lighted to see you, and I hail you as the
coming great journalist of modern times.
In future days, when Red Horse has become
a mighty city, and our names are enrolled
side by side, on the pages of history, as the
first mayor and _ first. editor in connection
with the metropolis of the South-west, men
will wonder at our courage, our unswerving
devotion to truth and justice, and our col-
ossal abilities in our respective lines of duty.
Let’s take something.’’

‘You know I do not drink, major.’’

‘*Ah! eh? Oh, yes; that’s so. Excuse me,
my boy; I quite forgot that you were strictly
and rigidly temperate. Now, I am a temper-
ance man—I believe in temperance in all
things. But I have a severe throat trouble
that makes it absolutely necessary for me to
moisten my tonsils with a ttle whisky now
and then. But I am moderate on all occa-
sions. I haven’t had but seventeen small
giezers since I arose from my downy couch
with the first peep of day.

‘‘Major, I have a question to ask you.’’

‘Ask and ye shall receive—that is, unless
you want to borrow money. I am not over-
burdened with the needful, for mine is a case
where riches took unto themselves wings,
and departed yonder.”’

‘<T do not want to borrow, but I want you
to tell me the truth, the whole truth, and
nothing but the truth. Do you promise?’’

‘Now, hold on——”’

‘‘Remember, major, I have been support-
ing you as candidate for the office of
mayor, and——’’

‘‘T promise. What do you want?’’

‘“<T want to knowif Dave Selkirk is a pro-
fessional gambler.’’

Major Todd looked startled, and he glanced
hastily around to make sure no one was
within hearing.

‘*‘Look here, Mr. Bruce,’’ he said, guard-
edly, ‘‘I have promised to answer your ques-
tion, and I am going to do it; but I want
you to know that I imperil my life in the
act, for Dave Selkirk has faithfully prom-
ised to shoot me full of holes, if 1 blowed to
you. If you have any regard for my health,
you will take care not to tell him that I let
out.

‘tT won’t tell,’’ said Jud, huskily; ‘‘and
I see there is no further chance for doubt—
he is a gambler !’?

‘* Yes, that’s his profession,’’ admitted the
major.

va 7 . ’ >
‘‘lam de- notice any difference.

 

CHAPTER XXXIII.
SELKIRK TAKES A HAND.

FTERWARD, when he came to think
it over, Jud wondered how Selkirk
succeeded in keeping his secret from
them as long as he did. But the

truth was known at last. Selkirk was a pro-
fessional gambler, and Jud felt as if death
had robbed him of one who was near and
dear.

But still he continued to keep the truth
from Joe, whose faith and reliance in Sel-
kirk was unbounded and unshaken.

Jud was relieved by Selkirk’s failure to
come around to the office often, for he
feared he might, in some way, betray the
fact that he had learned the unpleasant
truth concerning the man’s business,

In no way did the boy editor feel any the
less grateful for what Dave had done in aid-
ing them to setup in businessin Red Horse;
on the contrary, if such a thing were possl-
ble, he felt more grateful than before. But
he resolved that every dollar the man had
expended in their behalf should be returned
to him.

The time for a mass meeting of the citizens
of the place, for the purpose of organizing
a city form of government, and electing th
officers, was set at last, and two hundre
quarter-sheet posters were printed to notify
the people of the town. One hundred 0
these posters were printed in the Hustler
office, and one hundred were gotten out by
the publishers of the Boomer.

Jud found out that the hundred posters t0
be printed in the Boomer office were but
one-half of the full number to appear, au
he determined to do a job that should stand
well in comparison with that done by thé
rival concern. He explained the situation
Walker, and asked him to do his level bes
on the posters. i

Walker was a genius. Not having certalD
large letters which he required, he found 4
piece of hard wood, and, with the aid 9
some carpenter tools and a jack-knife, bé
cut out a set of letters which printed well,
and gave the poster a well-balanced appeal”
ance.

All one day Walker labored on that poste!
and, considering what he had to accomplis
the work with, the result was certalv
gratifying. The poster issued by the Boomer
was far superior to that which came from
the rival office.

As each poster bore the imprint of the fir™
where it was executed, and they were poste
side by side, in many cases, the people ®
Red Horse had an opportunity to make
comparison between them, and so lear?
which concern did the best work.

Grant was astonished and chagrined when
he saw the Boomer poster. ‘‘Where did the
children get that large type?’’ he exclaim?é f
‘They must have purchased more stock ®
that sort. Really, they have done the Bee
job; but I doubt if one ina hundred W

But a great many people did noticé the
difference, and the boys received one oF d
compliments on their work, which caus®”
them to continue their efforts to do evel.
thing in the very best manner possible. to

For all that Selkirk bad caused the™,””
place their prices far above the figures orig
inally made by the boys, the Hustler oft
had a still higher rate, claiming superior’ i
of work. Jud and Joe were resolved 60 ;
the patrons see which concern did the b?
work, the

Immediately after the posting of} ing
notices, Major Todd took to electionee™
and making open-air speeches. He did ei
have money to throw away, and _ he, bOP’¢
to win in the contest without the us@ —
money. ad

On the other hand, Sanders was 4 Onis
who could not make a speech to sav? be
life, but he had ‘‘money to burn,’’ a2 tbat
burned it freely. It was plain enough and
he meant to become mayor if bribery
corruption could accomplish the end. a all

The major became aware of this, 4 och
one day he labored on a ‘‘telling’’ sperat’
in which he would expose the methods y
ticed by his opponent. He did not paur oth
count -the cost, he did not, for a morn jp

consider that he would be putting bis! apd
jeopardy ; but he committed the speee , him

resolved that nothing should preve?
from delivering it.

That evening, mounted on a
stood in front of the Sweet Home yer!
and primed for the occasion by %” pis
‘‘small snifters,?? the major bega”' awd
speech. It was not long before a large ng
had collected round him; and, havin pis
moved his coat and hat, he waded int ‘
subject in a style that was decidedly ®
tional. tn?

Above the door of the saloon wet goo)
large red lamps, and they threw 4
glow over the faces of the motley ”.
That the major had a number of supp th?
in the crowd soon became apparent,

¢ at
-yel tb
bal alooms

ost
large majority were in favor of the ph jp

tion. However, Major Todd succeed art
holding them and keeping them COP. ghé
tively quiet until he began to
methods by which his opponent was
to win in the struggle. d pur
Then the crowd began to sway a2 obi
mur. Some applauded, and some h po!
‘The old fool is drunk!’ cried @

 

   

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Moods. ‘‘When I want your advice I'll ask
. for it.??
“You have it already,’’ retorted Jen-

COUCD

 

voice.
crazy.’
‘*Pull him down!
‘‘Whar’s Bob Sanders?
galoot a few times, and let some of the wind
out of him.”’
But the major refused to be silenced. He
continued his ringing denunciation of San-

‘*If he isn’t drunk, he’s shorely

Pull him down!’’

ders, seemingly quite unaware that men in |
the mob were fingering deadly weapons and |

beginning to threaten his life.

ud and Joe were on the outskirts of the |

crowd, and the boys heard more than one
threat to shoot the major. Joe was greatly
alarmed.

‘‘They’ll kill him, Jud!’’ he exclaimed.
‘‘Can’t we do something to prevent it?’’

‘‘T don’t see what we can do,’’ replied the |

perplexed Jud. ‘‘The major must be crazy
to make such talk publicly in this place!’’

The excitement grew swiftly; the crowd
began to sway to and fro, shouting and
cursing. A stone was hurled at the major,
but missed him, and crashed through a win-
dow of the saloon. Then the proprietor of
the place came to the door, and shouted for
somebody to take Todd away.

The major’s most courageous friends had |

gathered around him, and it looked as if a
collision and riot must take place, Weapons
were drawn and flourished.

“*Shoot him !”’

**Down with him!”’

‘*Lynch him !’’

“String him upi’’

The major seemed, to suddenly realize that
he was in deadly ‘danger, and he looked
about for some way of escape, but seemed
to find none. His foes were crowding toward
him; his friends were not strong enough to
hold them off.

Then, of a sudden, a man clambered to
the top of another barrel that stood close to
the one oceupied by the major. His hat was

off, his yellow hair fell in curls over his |

Shoulders, and there was a _ wild, reckless
light in his eyes. He lifted a pair of long,
Shining revolvers, and commanded silence.
It was Selkirk, and something in his face
and manner awed and hushed the tumultu-
ous crowd.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
—__—_ + 0-2

TWO TRICKSTERS AND A TERRIER,

BY W,

 

W,. TREMAINE.

ee

ET. out, you miserable brute!’

The speaker raised his foot and
followed up the command with a
vicious kick. The recipient, a black
and white fox-terrier, wheeled round and
exhibiting a row of gleaming teeth, growled
‘a very business-like fashion at the bully
Sf Rockley School, who, for the moment,

 

felt. decidedly uncomfortable.

He breathed more freely when Snatcher

Owered his tail and slunk off in the usual |

Style.

““You’d better be careful, Shady,” re-
Marked his friend, Jennings; ‘‘that cur’s
ginning to show fight.’’

‘*‘You mind your own business,’’ growled
Shady, who/was in one of his quarrelsome

”?

of 8 nettled by the domineering manner
°f the other. ‘‘i’m fully aware that I’m no
‘aint myself, and equally aware that [|
4ven’t improved since made your ac-
{Waintance, but hang me if I can stand to
See that poor wretch kicked all over the
Place like a foot-ball. You deserve——”’
_. Hoity-toity,’? interrupted Shady, sar-
gastically ; to follow

§ “you are going
Natcher’s lead and show your teeth, are
®u? Now I wouldn’t if I were you. It’s

tulgar ; it’s low. Besides, it would be set-
’ mie a bad example which I might follow. I
theht write to father and ask him to see
ine. principal about that little account
tig Hush 1”? implored. Jennings in alarm.
some one will be hearing you, and you
Ow you promised to——”’
mnt very well,’’ went on Shady, appar-
br.) Satisfied now that he bad once more
Sught Jennings to his proper place. ‘‘I

He’ll shoot the |

before, when he had been picked up from
| the road with a broken leg by the old gar-
| dener,
Of late poor Snatcher had received more
| bruises than biscuits*from Shady and one or
two others, but now, with Ferrows to cham-
| pion his cause, he was really beginning to
| enjoy life, and frisked about in the happiest
manner.

At the present moment, trotting along by
| the side of Ferrows, Snatcher possessed any
amount of pluck.

He had apparently forgotten his ignomini-
| ous retreat of a moment ago, and, strutting
| up to where Shady and Jennings were stand-
| ing, he jerked his nose a little higher in the
air, twisted his head knowingly on one side,
and stared at his enemy with an unmistak-
able ‘‘kick-me-now-if-you-dare’’ expression
| in his eye.
| ‘*Well,’? commenced Ferrows, as soon as
|he came up, ‘‘the ‘little beggar,’ as you
| choose to call him, is here. Why don’t you

kick him again?’’

Shady stepped forward and raised his foot
jas if to accept the challenge, but the dog’s
| attitude—or was it the presence of Ferrows?
—induced him to hesitate and draw back.

The next moment the dog’s champion had
seized Shady by the shoulders, and was ad-
ministering such a shaking ag he had never
had in his life.

‘‘There!’’? at length ejaculated Ferrows,
|dropping his captive in a limp and dazed
| condition. ‘‘Perhaps that will do you more
| good than would be brought about by re-
| porting you to the principal. Come along,
| Snatcher.’’
| . By some means or other this little affair
'reached the ears of the head-master, who,
after lecturing Shady somewhat sternly,
gave orders that the dog was to be shut
|up in the coach-house until he could find
| some means of getting rid of him.

The annual sports at Rockley School were
| eagerly looked forward to, not only by tie
boys themselves, but by the inhabitants of
| Redville, a small town about a mile away.

|

|

|

 

On the evening before the day fixed upon
by the doctor for the holding of the sports,
|several of the boys strolled down the hill
{and entered the play-ground, where a
| racing-track had been already marked off.
. In the top corner of the field Shady and
| Jennings were standing, when they over-
| heard a group of youngsters discussing the
| great event of the morrow—the five-mile
| bicycle race for the Rockley Cup.

Two years in succession had Ferrows car-
| ried off this trophy, and it was pretty gen-
j erally allowed that after to-morrow’s race
the cup would become his absolute property.

‘*This is about the place,’’ said one of the
boys, standing on the track near the final
| turn into the straight, ‘‘where Ferrows said
| good-by to the others last year, and where
jhe will leave Shady in the lurch to-
| morrow.’?

Shady turned to his companion, and re-
| marked with a grin:

‘*T don’t think so, Jennings. What is your
| opinion on the matter?”

| ‘*My opinion is,’’ replied Jennings, ‘‘that
|ina fair race he could give either of usa
| mile and beat us. It’s a mean, dirty, miser-
able trick to play on him, and I’ve a good
mind to——’’ :

‘‘Do as I tell you—just so,’’ put in Shady
when out of the boys’ hearing. ‘‘You
dare not do otherwise. Now, look here. Fer-
rows has won this cup twice, and ought to
be satisfied. Father and ! have a pecuniary
interest in it to-morrow, and I must win.
You understand—must. The moment Fer-
rows is beaten a certain long-standing ac-
count of yours will be struck off father’s
books.’? °

‘‘T¢ would never have been there at a'l if
I had not been an unmitigated ass,’’ said
Jennings, bitterly. ‘‘ However, it’s the first
betting transaction you ever lured me into,
and I’ll take good care it’s the last.”’

‘‘There you go again,’’ exclaimed Shady,
adding consolingly: ‘‘What’s the good of
crying over spilt mjlk? Come along, or we
shall be late.’’

Seizing his companion by the arm, he led
him off down the lane toward Redville, on
the outskirts of which town Shady, bSr.,
awaited their coming.

Simon Shady, landlord—or, as he pre-
ferred to hear it, ‘‘proprietor’’—of the

 

 

a. ho wish to do you an injury, so long
Ry You don’t interfere with me. As for|
Yer cher, however, I'll kill the little beggar |

«%
nin Look out,’? suddenly interposed Jen-
Poe? lifting a warning finger. ‘‘Here’s
Tows coming.’’
Rog rows was the most popular boy in
ha ley School, and deservedly so. Sbady
‘&~ %8en heard to remark that he was
. Pes, and tired of hearing of the virtues of
be; 2'"8,’? who, in his opinion, was simply

8 R
iong® Tuined by the flattery of his compan-

barge Shady could scarcely be re-

Bo h as an impartial critic. Only a week
Ing “& bad been caught in the act of bully-
i

a

“y of the younger boys, and had _ re-
Per, * Sound thrashing at the hands of
Weak who was ever ready to protect the
&r side,

ang Ong the very first to recognize this fact

‘‘Sportsman’’ Hotel, Redville, was never
weary of impressing upon his customers the
fact that he was ‘‘a self-made man.’’

To take this statement literally, Simon
had little reason to boast of bis, handiwork,
for he had turned out one of the most un-
scrupulous rogues that ever disgraced a
race-course.

At this particular time Simon had a guest
staying at the ‘‘Sportsman.”’

This gentleman was possessed of consider-
ably more money than brains, and for some
time past Simon had been endeavoring, with
some success, to level matters a little.

The distinguished guest returned to the
‘‘Sportsman’’ Hotel one morning with the
information that he intended visiting the
forthcoming Rockley sports. |

‘“‘T hear,’’ he said, ‘‘that young Ferrows is
likely to win that five-mile race, and I
wouldn’t mind having a bit on him.”’

 

Mat.;. take full advantage of it, was
Rooster, the fox-terrier. His career at |
_. ~*8Y School dated back to some months

Simon was nothing if not obliging. He at
once set to work with a view to satisfying
the whim of his guest, and at the same time
to transfer that ‘‘bit’’ to his own pocket.

NEWS.

 

7

 

In a letter to his son, Simon explained the| desperate endeavor to assist his chum.
position, and unfolded a scheme with which | Jumping into the saddle he gripped the
Shady, Jr., already at enmity with Fer- | handles, set his teeth, and began a ride that
rows, was delighted. The present meeting | only a school-boy would have dreamed of
was the result. attempting.

‘*Well,’? commenced Shady the elder as| The feat would have been voted impossible
the boys strolled up. ‘‘How have you got) by nine out of ten of his companions, and
on?’? | yet Beckley did it.

‘‘Oh, grand,’’ responded his dutiful son.| The headmaster, from his seat in the
‘‘Rerrows won’t win the Rockley Cup this | judge’s box, saw the descending flash of a
year.’’ |red and white blazer on the hill-side, and

‘*T hope you’ve made no mistake,’’ said | turned away his head with a shudder.
Simon. ‘‘ You know what I’m riskin’? A| The next moment Beckley was assisting
blunder spells ruin. Expenses have been | Ferrows into the saddle amid such thunder
heavy lately, and we must have no mistake | of ‘‘Bravos!’’ as had never been heard on
about this affair.’’ the Rockley ground before.

‘‘There is no fear of a mistake,’’ said Ferrows had only time to press the hand
Shady, Jr. ‘‘I’ve prepared for any emer-|of his chum warmly before he was off on
gency. Of course, I could run into him dur- | what was to be a stern chase.
ing the race, and leave Jennings here to win| Though the youngsters round the ropes
as he likes; but there’s an element of danger | cheered the plucky Ferrows, few dared to
about that course, and I don’t wish to run|hope that he would overtake the leaders.
any risk myself if it can be avoided.’ However, Ferrows, smarting under a sense

**Quite right,’’ assented Simon. of injury—for he was confident that the col-

‘‘Well,’’ continued his son, ‘‘I have a|lapse of his machine was no accident—put
better plan than that, and, clever rider as| his head down and rode as never Rockley
Ferrows is, he will have some difficulty in | boy rode before.
riding five miles with a broken chain. I’ve} Again and again he flashed past the aston-
removed one of the pins and replaced it with | ished Shady, who was beginning to tire, and
a bit of wood, which will break before be} when the last mile was reached he was barely
has covered half a lap.”’ a lap behind. How the juniors yelled as the

‘*Yes,’’ interrupted Simon, ‘‘but can’t he! possibility of Ferrows winning after all
borrow another machine when he finds it | dawned upon them!
out???’ ‘*Go it, old fellow!’’ shouted little Blakey,

‘*No,’? answered Shady. ‘‘I thought of | throwing his cap in the air and losing it in
that. Ours is the only bicycle race on the ) his excitement. ‘‘Go it! Jennings is beaten,
programme, and, with the exception of | and Shady has had enough!’’
those used in the race, there won’t be a| As if in response to Blakey’s appeal,
machine nearer than the coach-house at the | which, of course, he never heard, Ferrows
top of the hill, and it would take him twenty | put on a terrific spurt, which fairly startled
minutes at least to fetch one from there. | Shady.

No; Ferrows won’t win to-morrow.’’ ‘*Go on, man!’’ he said to Jennings, who

In the fullness of his admiration for the| was leading. ‘‘Go on, or he’ll beat us after
cunning of his son, which reflected so much | all.’’
credit on the training be had received, ‘‘T can’t,’’ panted Jennings, ‘‘I’m dead
Simon grasped his hand and shook it warm- | beat.’’
ly, while Jennings surveyed the pair with a ‘‘Very well,’’? responded Shady, ‘‘make
contempt only equaled by that which he, | way, 1’m coming myself.’’
in reality, felt for himself. Suiting the action to the word Shady

* * * * dashed alongside, and Ferrows had scarcely
become aware that his rival had a spurt left
when an event occurred that completely
turned the tables.

This was nothing more nor less than the

 

 

* *

‘*There’s the bell!”’

The youngsters who had been standing
in groups on the track discussing past
eyents now rushed to the ropes, elbowing
their way regardless of the feelings of | appearance of the ill-used Snatcher on the
others, and each determined to obtain a/ scene.
good view of the race for the Rockley Cup.| He had escaped from the coach-house

“‘There’s Shady,’’? shouted a boy named | when Beckley wheeled out the machiue, and
Blakey. ‘‘My! just observe his swagger! | bad strolled down to see what was going on
One would think he had won the race al- | below.
ready. I really believe the fellow thinks he| Wandering aimlessly across the track, he
has a chance.’’ was wondering what all the yelling and the

‘<Yes,’? assented another, as Ferrows ap-| shouting meant, when his enemy emerged
peared on the track; ‘‘but just takea glance | from behind Jennings and bore down upon
at Ferrows, and then consider what chance | him.

Shady has.’’ Naturally enough, Snatcher regarded this

Ferrows was standing by the side of his|as an act of war. He was not to be caught
machine, which was held up by Beckley, his | napping, however.
chum. They were both a little puzzled at| Wheeling round and avoiding the charge,
the behavior of Shady. Snatcher dashed in and attacked the enemy

‘‘T can’t make it out,’’ said Beckley. ‘‘He | in the flank.
wouldn’t swagger about like that if he didn’t In a moment Shady was thrown clean
think he would win, and that ina fair race| over the handle-bars of his machine, and
is a sheer impossibility. I wonder——’’ Jennings escaped a fall by the closest shave

Beckley stopped and looked across at Fer- | imaginable.
rows, who was evidently wondering much} Luckily it was a grass track or Shady
the same thing. Together they inspected the | had ridden his last race. As it was he es-
tires of the machine, but noticed nothing | caped with a severe shaking, and had risen
amiss, and Ferrows was sorry that he had | to his feet when the doctor arrived on the
entel tained, even for a moment, a suspicion | spot.
of foul play. - Poor Snatcher, however, had fared badly.

However, Beckley was convinced that| His rash charge bad cost him his life,
there was something in the wind, and at | though even then he was avenged.
that moment Jennings rode slowly past Ferrows had razed past Jennings, who was
them. He glanced fearfully over his shoul- | pulling up, and won as he liked.
der and whispered hurriedly: Sin:on Shady was no sooner aware of the

‘‘Took to your bike, Ferrows. He means | failure of his plot than he behaved likea
too win by fair means or foul. I daren’t | madman, and was eventually expelled from
say more—he’s looking.’’ the grounds of Rockley School.

‘Again the tires were overbauled, but no His son, as the result of an interview be-
sign of a puncture could be found. Ferrows . tween Jennings and the doctor, was re-
was more puzzled than ever. Not knowing | quested to follow, and quitted the establish-
the exact danger to be feared, how could he ment unregretted by the Rockley boys.
guard against it? : ) Within a week or two they left the neigh-

‘‘T may be wrong,’’ suddenly exclaimed | borhood altogether, and the ‘‘Sportsman’’
Beckley, ‘‘but it’s as well to be prepared. | Hotel is still awaiting a tenant.

You must get some other fellow to push you

off from the mark, and I’ll pop up the hill |
and fetch my machine _in case you should

need it. I fancy Shady intends running you |
down, or something of that kind; so don’t |
get in front. Force him to make |
pace.’? ps ‘ ; opment and decline; our physica] strength

With which parting injunction Beckley | increases up to'a certain age, and then de-
commenced to climb the hill toward the} creases. Tests of the strength of several
school. He had just reached the top when | thousands of people have been made by
he heard the pistol fired, and, turning, be| means of a dynometer (strength-measurer),
saw the three competitors leave the mark, | and the following are-given as the average
Ferrows, acting up to the advice of his| figure for the white race:
chum, at once falling into the rear. The ‘‘lifting power’’ of a youth of sev-

Beckley had wheeled his machine from | senteen years is 280 pounds; in his twentieth
the coach-house and was closing the door | year this increases to 320 pounds; and in
when he was startled by a roar from the| the thirtieth and thirty-first years, it reaches
spectators below. its height—365 pounds, At the end of the

In a moment he guessed the cause, and a/| thirty-first year the strength begins ‘to de-
glance convinced him that he was right. | cline, very slowly at first.

Ferrows was dismounted, examining his By the fortieth year it has decreased eight
machine, and the other competitors weré| pounds; and this diminution continues at a
half a lap in front already. slightly increasing rate, until the fiftieth

The disappointed cries of the boys sud-| year is reached, when the figure is 330
denly gave place to a yell of astonishment, | pounds.
not unmingled with fear, and every face After this period the strength fails more
was turned to the hill. -—| and more rapidly, until the weakness of old

Beckley, recognizing that to walk.downjage is reached. It is not possible to give
the hill with the machine would be but a] statistics of the decline of strength after the

 

 

— + @ e- —-
AT WHAT AGE IS MAN STRONGEST?

The muscles, in common with all the or-
the | gans of the body, have their stages of devel-

 

 

waste of time, as the race would be over ere | fiftieth year, as it varies to a arge extent
he reached the ground, had resolved on a in different individuals.

2
 

ISSUED WEEKLY.
NEW YORK, MAY 30, 1896.

Terms to Good News Mail Subscribers:

(PosraGE FREE.)

  

3months - - - - 65c. | One Year - - - - - $2.50
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How to SEND Monty.—By post-oflice or express
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To OLUB Ratsers.—Upon request we will send sam-
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All letters shonld be addressed to

STRZET & SMITEVS GOOD NEWS,
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Back numbers of GOOD NEWS can always be
obtained from your Newsdealers. If they do not
have them please send direct to this office and we
will supply them by mail on receipt of price.

 

Advertising rates, 50 cents per agate line,

 

Contents of this Number,
SERIAL STORIES.

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

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

“Lad Electric,” by Barry Tallyho.

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

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

“The Boy Boomers,” by Harry Danger-

field.

SHORT STORIES,
“Two Tricksters and a Terrier,” by W. W.
Tremaine.
*‘My Coal Mine Adventures,” by S. P. Cad-
man.
“The Mysterious Bicyclist,” by Victor St.
Clair.

REGULAR DEPARTMENT'S,
‘Short Talks With the Boys,” by Arthur
Sewall.
“How to Do Things,” by David Parks.
“Our Stamp Album.”

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

Departinent,”

 

Sethe idan nenaeadhaqiaenesionenisonmnenteneant nhtapreneernatn

SHOR TI-Y..

A fine story of railroad life, with a
splendid boy hero, showing how he worked
himself up from the lowest position to the
highest, and how he saved the Valley Cen-
tral from ruin.

Look out for

Ned Purcell, the Boy Engineer.

BY

ee Ake Vi Boos: EELS ts.

THE NO NAME STORY,

eninae i nicteenesl

 

The judges have nearly finished their
labors, and we shall be able to announce
the list of winners in next week’s issue.

 

 

 

See winners in club notice contest at
head of club department.
——_——- >» «>
‘*Tt is wonderful what progress has been
made in the way of machinery,’’ remarked
Mr. Figg. ‘‘I see that there has been a
machine invented that can make a pair of

shoés in sixteen minutes. Why, that is faster
than Tommie can wear them out!’’

   

[rok dba ta ee

‘|
|
|

 

COoOOoOD

EH DHLIGHTED!

NEWS.

-

eo ea ee ee

 

eee piiciiniaod

Some Letters from the Winners of the Thirty Bicycles.

DEAR Sirs: I hereby acknowledge the re-
ceipt of the prize bicycle from Messrs. Hay « |
Willets. I am very much pleased with it, and |
hope to have many a pleasant ride on if. A
thousand thanks and hoping you will derive
much benefit from your generosity. I will |
always be ready to speak a good word for your
paper, lam Respectfully yours,

H. L. COSTER, 82 8. Halsted.
WEST BAY CITY, April 16, 1896.
To Street d& Smith,

GENTLEMEN: I received my bicycle from
the Hay & Willets Manufacturing Company, of
Indianapolis, and to say L aim pleased with it
does not half express my feelings. Itisadaisy;
the design and workmanship is, in my opinion,
equal to any $100 wheel in the market. Itis
light running and up-to-date in every partic-
ular. Thanking you for your liberality in
giving away such a magnificent wheel as the
Outing and wishing you the success you de-
serve in publishing the King of Boy’ Weeklies,
[am Respectfully yours,

CLARENCE A, GALBRAITH,

209 1-2 8. Henry street, West Bay City, Mich.

READING, PA., April 17, 1896.
To Street & &mith.

GENTLEMEN: Received the “Outing” Bicycle
all O. K., and it was beyond my expectations.
{ thank you heartily not only for the wheel,
but also for placing within my reach the means
of attaining such a beautiful up-to-date wheel
as the “Outing” certainly is. If this letter is
intended for publication, allow me to thank,
through your columns, those who have assisted
me in the recent bicycle contest. Again thank-
ing you and hoping Goop News will ever
prosper, remain Yours truly,

HARRY W. FREES,
332 Washington street, Reading, Pa.

 

 

356 West 56th street,
NEw YORK, April 17, 1896.
Messrs. Street & Smith.

GENTLEMEN: I received your ‘‘Onting’’ Bicy-
cle this A. M., from Hay & Willets Manufactur-
ing Company, Indianapolis, Ind. I imme-
diately. unpacked it and took a spin up the
road. All my friends whom I met envied me
my good fortune, The Goop News published
by you is one of the most interesting papers in
circulation. With aGoop NEws bicycle to go
out and take a spin, and the Good NrEws
awaiting me upon wy return, I consider
myself most fortunate. Trusting and believ-
ing in the prosperity of the Goobp NEws and
all enterprises in your good name, [ remain

Very respectfully,
JAMES F, GLEASON.

 

YORK BEACH, ME., April 16, 1896.
Messrs. Street &: Smith.

GENTLEMEN: The Outing Bicycle which you
gave away in the Goop News Coupon Contest
one of which I was so fortunate as to get,
arrived yesterday, and it is a beauty. I have
already had an offer of a hundred-dollar wheel
in exchange for it, but it is needless to say
that I declined the ofter. I thank you very
much for your kind gift, and I also wish to ex-
tend my thanks to those that kindly sent me
coupons. I was very much surprised one day
to receive a package of coupons from a party
in San Francisco, Cal., also from Quebec,
Canada, which shows that the ‘King of Boys’
Weeklies” is read all over the United States
aud in Canada. Yours truly,

K. A. TALPEY,

 

 

839 Sixth street,
LOUISVILLE, Ky., April 14, 1896.
Messrs. Street & Sinith.

DEAR Sirs: Wheel came to hand this P. M.,
and needless to say, was greatly pleased. You
have my congratulations upon your excellent
judgment in selecting the ‘Outing,’ as it
equals, if not excells any other wheel I have
ever ridden. Thanking you for your liberality
and successful business methods, as well as
for your promptness, [ remain

Yours respectfully,
FELIX C. WATKINS.

 

MARION, IOWA, April 15, 1896.
Messrs. Street & Smith.

GENTLEMEN: Received by express to-day the
$85 Outing Roadster. It is a handsome and
strongly-built wheel, and is certainly a magnifi-
cent gift. Thanking you for your promptuess,
Tam Yours respectfully,

ERNEST FE. BRENEMAN.

 

DETROIT, MicH., April 17, 1896.
Messrs. Street & Smith.

GENTLEMEN: My bicycle arrived here safely,
and I wish to say with the greatest satisfac-
tion, that it is a beauty in every way, shape,
and manner; it is high grade in every par-
ticular, and a splendid sample of the generosity
and uptightness of the dealings of your con-
cern. Please receive my hearty thanks for
same. Yours timly,

ALBERT THOMAS.

 

: BROOKLYN, N. Y., April 22, 1896.
To the Edilor of Good News.

DEAR Sir: I received the wheel last Thurs-
day and never thought it would be such a nice
wheel. I was riding ever since on it, all over
Brooklyn, and telling my friends where and
how I got the wheel and what a good time I
had. A great many of my friends are going to
buy the Goop NEws now. The Outing wheel
came in good condition, and it is one of the
best wheels I ever rode. ‘I will show it to
everybody and get all of my friends to buy the
Goop News. ‘Thanking Messrs. Street &
Smith very much, and will do all in my power
for the Goop NEws. [I um sorry I did not
write sooner but was too much interested in
the wheel. Yours truly,

CHICAGO, April 18, 1896. |

PEABODY, KAN., April 17, 1896.
Messrs. Street & Smith.
GENTLEMEN: Your notice; informing me that
I was one of the prize winners in the bicycle |
contest was quite a surprise to me. I have re-
ceived the “Outing” wheel; well, I will just |
say that I do not understand how you Can |
afford to give away such a good wheel. It is
tirst-class in every respect—light, durable, and
swift as the wind. It pays to read Goop
NEWS published by Street & Smith. Thanking
you for the promptness in which you have
paid your premiums, | am a reader of Goon |
NEWS, Yours truly,
T W. BUYCHER.

 

 

DAVENPORT, IA., April 18, 1896.
To the Editor of Good News.

DEAR Sirk: Received my wheel in very good
order, and it is a beauty; everybody admires it,
has to try it, and wants to know how much it
cost, and what paper [ got it with. I am very
much pleased with my wheel and can find no
fault with it at ali. Thanking you again for
your kindness, I remain one of your constant
readers of the only boys’ paper, and that is the
GooD NEWS. Yours truly,

NEIL JONES.

BARRE, VT., April 18, 1896,
Street & Smith.

DEAR Sirs: I take pleasure in acknowledg-
ing the receipt from the Hay & Willets Manu-
facturing Company of the Outing Bicycle re-
cently won by me in the GooD NEWS ‘‘con-
test.” It is an up-to-date wheel in every
respect, a beauty, and a credit to both manu-
facturers and donors. I am more than pleased
with it. When I received yours of the 14th
inst., informing me of my success, I do not
know whether I was most surprised or pleased,
as [had given up all hope of being a winner
from the time advertisements offering pre-
iniums for coupons began to appear in the
exchange columns of GOobD NEWS, and it is an
added pleasure to know that my wheel was
won without the purchase of a Single coupon,
but with those given to me by my friends.
Thanking you for your great liberality, and
wishing continued success to the GooD NEws,
the best boys’ paper published, lam

Yours very truly,
LEWIS C. ROBBINS.

—

 

FREDONIA, N. Y., April 20, 1896.
To the Editor of Good News.

DEAR Sir: I received my wheel and it more
than weets my expectations; as for beauty and
workmanship, [thinkit is as good as any wheel
going. I was surprised when I received word
from you that I was one of the lucky ones. I
sincerely thank you for awarding me a whieel,
and hope the Goop News circulation will in-
crease double before the year is up, as it is one
of the best boys’ and girls’ paper printed: [|
will do all I can to push along its circulation.

Yours respectfully,
F. M. ADAMS.

 

 

NEWARK, N. J., April 21, 1896.
To the Editor of Good News.
DBEAR SIR: Many thanks for the wheel which
T received a few days ago, it is a very fine one.
{ have interested quite a number of my ac-
quaintances in your paper, the Goop Nrws,
and no doubt you will have an increased circu-
lation in this vicinity.
Yours very respectfully,
M. HOWELL.

 

CLARION, PA., April 18, 1896.
DEAR Srrs: I received the wheel yesterday,
and find it to be just as represented, a tirst-
class high grade wheel. Thanking you for
your kind present, I remain

Yours truly, J. L. BEER.

 

Nrw YORK, April 19, 1896.
DEAR Str: I received the Outing Bicycle last
night and was very much pleased with it, and
know every one else who receives one will be
the same. Thanking you_very kindly and
wishing you every success, I remain,
Yours most respectfully,
JULIUS WILLING,
$24 E. 84th street, City.

 

PLEASANT HILL, Mo., April 18, 1896.
To the Editor of Good News.

DEAR Str: My bicycle arrived here the 16th,
in good condition, and I am compelled to say
itis a much better wheel than I ever expected
to receive. It is simply a beauty, and I find
everything you promised has been fulfilled to
the letter. Hoping the rest of the winners are
as well pleased, I am Yours truly,

H. G. Clay.

 

PorT JARVIS, N. Y., April 22, 1896.
To the Editor of Good News.

DEAR Sir: I received my wheel last Friday,
April 17, and, can say that it is a first-class up-
to-date wheel. I have given it a pretty good
test already, and it is just what it was repre-
sented to be. I did not expect half as good a
wheel, but I thought it was worth trying for,
and it certainly was. I don’t see how you can
afford'to give such a wheel away as thatina
bicycle contest. It is simply a high-grade
wheel and nothing/else.

Yours respectfully,
MAX LAMBERT.

 

NEVADA, Mo., April 16, 1896.
Street & Smith.

DEAR Strs : I/received my wheel yesterday,
the Outing, and was more than pleased with
it; it’s a daisy. Many thanks. Wishing you
success, I remain Respectfully yours,

i ED. MARTIN.

 

DOLGEVILLE, N. Y., April 20, 1896.
The Good News.
DAR Srr: I received my wheel Thursday
noon, it is the best wheel in the village. Hop-

 

 

 

CHAS. HALLER,
147 Broadway, Brooklyn, N, Y.

 

ing you success, I remain

Yours truly, GEORGE WILEY,

Snort fALKs —=—
Wit THE Boys.

S

EDITED BY ARTHUR SEWALL,

iene

J.J. H., Roland, Canada, writes: ‘I venture
to ask you to please answer mea few questions
in your column in Goop Nrws. I[ am 18 years
of age, have a good education and a little capi-
tal. My brother—who has been clerk in a store
for some time—and I contemplate starting a
stationery store. 1. Have you any idea of the
capital it would take? 2. Do you think it a

| profitable business ?”

The stationery business is a good one, and

| if you are possessed of business ability and
| tact, you ought to be able to make a success

of it.

I should advise you to combine the sta-
tionery business with the sale of newspapers
and books.

The very first thing to be considered is the
location of your store,.and this is a most
important matter. Be sure that it is on the
main thoroughfare, and in a place where
people are apt to congregate, say, near the
post-office. Then be certain to make your
window as attractive as possible.

I should think about six hundred dollars
would enable you to start in business, But
buy slowly. Study the tastes and spending
powers of the people of your community
who are likely to become your customers.
This will be valuable and important knowl-
edge to you, as it will prevent your loading
up with goods that are unsalable.

Discreetly bought, stationery, novels, and
papers should yield a profit of at least
tweuty-five per cent., and in’ some cases,
thirty-three and a third per cent. can be ob-
tained without much trouble.

You have the capital. Now, all that you
need to succeed is brains and activity.

A READER, Adrian, Mich., writes: ‘I have
been a reader of your GooD News for two
years, and I take great interest in the ‘Short
Talks with the Boys.’ But I have never seel
the subject spoken of yet, which I intend to
write about. Iwish to ask you if you think the
profession of painting is a good one? [ am @
pretty good hand at drawing; I can enlarge
photographs, and I have painted two portraits
in oil colors from the photographs. TI like oil
painting better than any other kind, I can
copy any picture Isee. I have never taken any
lessons yet; 1 have not the means of entering
an art school. I am 16 years old, and I get
$3.60 a week working in a factory here. Do you
think Teould get work in the city of New York,
and study nights, as there is 10 school here?

have been advised by several people here 10

study, so I ask your advice about it.” ,

It is very difficult’ indeed to advise yous
as you do not possess the means necessary
to study your art properly, and you cannot
hope to succeed as a painter without prop®
instruction. Of course, the very best possible
thing would be to enter some art school.
There is an excellent one, by the way, 2
Chicago. There are spring and _ wintel
courses, and each term costs about thirty
dollars. Failing this, however, the next bes
plan would be to enter the studio of some
good artist. I suppose this is impossible
Adrian, but if you lived in a large city, 49
possessed decided talent, it would not be @
difficult matter to interest some artist, W*
would give you instruction, in return £0
your services. If you know of any artist 17
your town, go to him, show him your work;
and explain to him, frankly, your situatio®
He will undoubtedly help you, with advic®
at all events.

There would be little or no chance for?

strange boy, without friends or influenc®
obtain a position of any sort in New YOr**
But do not be discouraged; you are y
yet, and your chance may come whet ye
least expect it. If you have genuine talent,
is bound to come to the front in the long PU?”
J. W., Muncie, Ind., writes: “Will you pleats
tell me through Goop News what it we
cost to go into the photographing business
the best ways for one to learn it?’ “
The very best way for you to become oy
quainted with the business of photog?@P iy
is to go into a good studio, and learn eve d
branch—retouching, printing, mounting oo
coloring, as well as making pictures ing
the camera. You must know every?
about the manufacture, to start with. pe
It is generally the practice to pay «ix
photographer something for the first “ou
months in return for the experien? tie
gain. A good operator is paid, in first tor
galleries, from $15 to $25 a week; a Peo {0
something less, anda retoucher from $
$30 a week. 9 au
If you are not sure that you hay 05s:
artistic. sense, don’t go into the bus out
There ‘is certain machine work * 4jt-
the art, but to be a mere workmaD ‘post
tle or nothing. The profits depend * es”
entirely on the man at the head of the al-
tablishment. If he is a real artist, B® yp, is
most sure to succeed; if he is 10 it js 9
equally certain to make a failure- te8
business which no boy of commop, | tbe
should pick up; but to the right on® ay
right place, the profits are large.
SprectaL Notice.—Many commun!
improperly addressed to this depat
are answered in the ‘‘Mail Bag.’’

 

      

 

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GooD NEWS.

 

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

CAVALIER AND RO UNI JHEAD;

OR,
MICE DPING FOR DHE STUARTS.
BY ALFRED ARMITAGE,
Auehor of ‘* With Crusader and Saracen,” ‘‘In the Days of the Gladiators,’ “Out With Robin Hood,” ets

“CAVALIER AND ROUNDHEAD” was commen
of all News

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS.
The scene is laid in England, in 1645, at the
time of the struggle between the adherents of |
Charles the First, known as Cavaliers and the |
followers of Oliver Cromwell known as Round-

heads, who were determined to dethrone the
king. ‘The story is told by Geoffrey Davenant, |
who was living with his grandfather, Titus
Oakwell, an obstinate Roundhead. ‘The lad
himself, however, is loyal tothe king. Geoffrey
has an intimate friend, Cyril Rudstone. One}

day when the boys are out hunting for rabbits, |
they come across an elderly neighbor of theirs,
Sir Anthony Fleetwood. With the old man is
a youth of fifteen, whom

ed in No. 315.

 

Back numbers can be obtained
Agents. |

| slashed true and hard with his blade at the

Roundhead’s right shoulder.

‘*Take that for the king,’’ he cried.

The sharp steel cut deep through flesh and |
| bone, and the red-coated ruffian gave a how] |
|} of agony as the jerking out of the sword

spun him around.

The soldier on the right fared no better. I
looked quickly that way, in time to see him
aiming his musket, but he got no chance to
fire,

him over in the dust, and the weapon was |

discharged harmlessly in the air.

Cyril rode straight at him, knocking |

!

| duke

‘¢Faster, faster,’’? cried Marmaduke. ‘‘If
we are caught it means death!’’

‘¢And the loss of the king’s letter,’’
‘* Before I let it fall
lestroy et

‘*T hope it won’t come to that,’’

said 7
into their hands I will

Marma-

answered; ‘‘but it’s useless to deny
that we are in sore peril. Our horses have
already traveled many miles, while these

| houses
| Roundhead horses.
; on

|
}

ruffians have fresh animals.’’

‘But they are heavy and unwieldy brutes, ’’
exclaimed Cyril, ‘‘picked up from farm
and in towns, like most of the
I will match our steeds
the race, and give odds in the bargain.
They are the pick of Sir Anthony’s stable,
and no better judge of horsefiesh was in all
Huntingdonshire. So have courage, good
lads. We will show these knaves how three
young cavaliers can outwit them.’’

This put usin rather more cheerful spirits,
and for some time we went thundering along
the highway, which was hereabouts quite
level and ran between high hedges. Our
horses were less spirited and swift than they
bad been at the outset of our journey, but
not enough so to alarm us seriously.

At length, when we had gone about a mile,

9

‘Yonder is Daventry, without a doubt,’'
said I, as we went galloping down the hill,

| ‘‘and there we are likely to be stopped.”

‘‘If we get that far,’’ replied Marmaduke,
‘‘which I hardly think we will. . In another

half mile we shall be overtaken, and then
naught will remain but to sell our lives
dearly, Have you reloaded your pistol,

Cyril?’

‘*Not yet,’’ he answered.

opportunity, Marmaduke.
requires both hands, and
spare.”
-**My weapon is not yet fired,’’ said I,
and when the proper time comes I will
give a good account of the charge. I fear
we are lost—these rogues are spurring their
horses like mad.’’

By this ‘time the

‘*T have had no
It isa task that
those I cannot

‘

Roundheads had come

| over the top of the hill, and the very ground

seemed to shake under the furious clatter
of hoofs. The interrupted firing was resumed
again, but, either from haste, or inaccuracy,
the balls all flew wide of the mark.

‘*We must escape,’’ cried Cyril. ‘‘I have
just thought’ of something, lads—the only,
thing that can save us, and of that there is
but aslim chance. But ’tis worth the trying,

so let us take to the

 

Cyril recognizes as
-rince Charlhe, the son
Uf the king, Sir Anthony
is alarmed at the recog-
hition, but determines to
trust the boys not to be-
tray the secret. They
part and soon afterward
Geoffrey and Cyril meet
a party of Roundhead

Cavalry, the leader. of
whom turns ont to be
Oliver Cromwell. The

latter questions the lads,
but they loyally refuse to
answer, at which Crom-
well brutally assaults
them. Shortly after-
ward, thé two friends,
With another companion,
Marmaduke Burley, are
indulging in alittle sup-
per in Geoffrey’s room,
When there is a great
Commotion in the
Street, followed by two
Musket shots. The tu-
Mult gradually dies
away, and then ¢he boys

hear a groan in the
Yard and a faint knock-
Ing at the back door,

They go down and find
Sir Anthony Fleetwood
lying in a huddled heap
On the stone step. They
bear him up stairs, and
learn that he has been
attacked and wounded
to death by Roundheads.
Before dying, he gives
the boys a packet, which
1ey promise faithfully
to deliver to Prince
Charles. The three lads
Set out on their quest to
find the prince in Corn-
Wall before he takes pas-
Sage for France. First,
lowever, they go to Sir
Anthony’s late residence
9 inform his people of
Us tragic fate, and here
they obtain horses. .On
their way to Penzance,
they blunder into a biv-
Nac of Roundhead cav-
alry, where they are
Challenged by the sentry,
“ud asked to declare
hemselves for king or
Parliament.

ij
i \

CHAPTER.VII.

IN WHICH WE SHED
THE FIRST BLOOD FOR
THE KING.

T is said that a man
Will think with
Marvelous quick

hess in cases where

Suddenly put ina

ght place, or con-

he is

 

Vi

 

MS AY
Mealy

fi
(

,
Hy

Nr PRVWIN \
Mi) ae
Wh WH \

 

fronted by peril to life.
° it was with us now.
Sour horses, rearing
bre swerving under the
» drew nearer to the two Roundheads
flash Were guarding the way, we sawin'a
en. that one course only could save us from

must make.a dash for it,’’ Cyril

ered, hurriedly. ‘‘The road ahead may

hing 2? but there are likely other foes be-
€ )

: rs Rr

S]

in prward, then,’? Marmaduke shouted,
Say Sud voice. ‘‘At them, my lads. God
© the king!”?

"Ut a second had elapsed since we received
Summons to halt, and therefore our
Rent Was sudden and unexpected to
Ww et: Our trusty steeds seemed to know
then, peril threatened us, and as we gave

i [oose rein they bore on at a gallop. I
hay etween my companions, and thus it
in Pened that mine was but a passive part

© tragedy that was quickly enacted.
atid” rode at the two knaves with such speed

Ov

 

Rroy, ury that they dared not stand their |
Da » but slipped to opposite sides of the
Striy. the officer swung his heavy sword to

Node and I thought that Marmaduke, who

 

Ut + my left, was as good as dead.
&nq 1ebe, Plucky lad had his wits about him,

®aning a little out of the saddle, he

y

Hi} /
W al

ON FIRM GROUND.

But we were not yet done with him.
his feet, and, with a courage that ‘was
worthy of praise, he grabbed at, and caught,
Cyril’s saddle, and clung there as the horse
dashed on.

I would have shot him myself, but Cyril
was too quick for me. He whipped out “his |
pistol, turned partly round, and fired. With |

the flash and the report, the Roundhead’s |
grasp relaxed, and he fell in a limp and

quivering heap to the road,

In |

some fashion, the knave bounded swiftly to | pursuers were

we made the unpleasant discovery that our
gaining, and that rapidly.

Cyril was much crestfallen, and I take it

| that he must have been mistaken in his esti-

mate of the cavalry horses.
In vain, by coaxing and digging, did we
try to put our nags to a greater speed. They

 

I GASPED FOR BREATH AS MY NAG ROSE IN THE AIR, VAULTED LIGHTLY OVER HEDGE AND DITCH AND CAME SAFELY DOWN

|

{
;

would spurt a bit, and then gradually ease |

down, their nostrils smoking,
steaming sides heaving and throbbing. Closer

and their |

|

and louder rang the pounding of iron-shod |

| hoofs, and the husky shouts of revenge, as

It was all done and over in less time than| the deterinined Roundheads steadily and
it takes to tell, and of the two knayes who | surely overtook us.

had tried to stop us, one was dead and the |
other sorely wounded. As we galloped furi-
ously on, we heard fierce shouting behind
us, and half a dozen musket balls came sing-
ing about our ears.

But we were by no means out of danger,
as we well knew, and so we urged our horses
forward unsparingly. Hedges and trees
whizzed rapidly by, amid the gloomy night,
and in the next minute we covered consider-
able ground. Then a bugle shrilly sounded the |
call to mount, and when we glanced back, a

As often as we looked back, we could see
their dark forms outlined more distinctly
against the pale horizon. Finally they came

| within shooting distance, and their fire-arms
| began to flash and crack.

That put usin a
sullen and desperate humor, but we still
kept urging our horses, as we stooped low in
the saddle to dodge the balls that were now

| singing to right and left and overhead.

So the chase went on, and when the inter-
yveping distance had lessened to a perilously
brief stretch, we came to the crest of a hill.

moment later, we saw that the whole troop of|In front lay a gradually sloping country,

Roundheads were in hot chase after us.

' pounded far off by a couple of lights.

 

| and left.

open countrye Our
steeds are well accus-
tomed to chasing of
the fox, and if we can
find a stiffish hedge or
stream to Jump, we may
give our pursuers the
slip. Though I was
plainly mistaken as to
the speed of the Round-
head horses, I'll wager
they will stop short of a
fox-hunter’s barrier.’

‘““You have hit upon
a vg ood, Plage
exclaimed Marmaduke,
‘*so let us watch sharp
for an opening.’”’

‘‘We shall find one
soon,’’ said I, ‘‘and, if
not—ah! did you hear
that bullet sing?”’

‘*Hear it?’’ cried Cy-
ril. ‘‘Why, I felt the
rush of air. On with
you, comrades, and
keep your heads low.
And are you sure of
your seats if we find
that jump whereof I
spoke? I can answer
for you, Geoffrey,
but——’’

‘‘T can answer for
myself, if you please,’’
Marmaduke cried,
boastfully. ‘‘I have
jumped more hedges
and ditches than you
have ever seen,.’’

No more was said,
for just then we spied
an open gateway lead-
ing into a field on our
left. Through it we
went on a gallop, and
away flew our horses
over the spongy turf.
Thus we rode for a mile
to the south-west, at
first gaining a little on
the Koundheads, and
then losing ground with
disheartening rapidity.

In a hollow between
two hills our  blood-
thirsty foes came'with-
in two hundred yards,
and so confident were
they now of success that
they ceased firing, and
began to shout to us to
surrender. But we gave
them no heed, and only
spurred on the faster.
Up the slope we rode,
and over the crest, and
then we discovered
what we had been long-
ing to see.

At the foot of the gently sloping hill
ahead of us, a quarter of a mile away, the
dark line of a hedge stretched far to right
Close on the other side, and run-
ning parallel with it, was a gleaming ribbaud
of water—whether a ditch or stream, we
could not tell.

Nor did we care overly much, for we knew
that hedge and water had to be safely
cleared. If we made the leap all right we
stood a fair chance of freedom; if our horses
stumbled or fell short, we must expect death
by bullet or the rope.

 

 

 

CHAPTER VIII.

IN WHICH WE TWICE OUTWIT. THE ROUND-
HEADS.

   

E urged our horses down the hill
at their top speed, riding abreast
. of one another, but several yards
“ey apart. We had not gone far when
the Rofludheads came over the ¢rest behind

\ fo

  

| us, and as soon as they spied the hedge and

the water, they saw that they were likely
to be foiled. Now and then one fired a shot,
but, for the most part they bent their en-
LO GooD NEWS.

:

 

 

as to your return. The time being uncertain, ul
I will send a boat to this same spot at early
morning and sunset of each day. If ye hap-
pen along at midnight, or at noonday, then et
make signals from the shore. I will havea e |
watch kept.’’ |
This plan was agreed to, and after some P|
further speech Captain Duncan bade us
farewell, and started back to the vessel.
‘‘And now for the town,’’ said Marma- :
duke. ‘‘It is many a month since I last saw |
it, but my memory serves me well. The g
most likely place for our purpose is an inn a |
called the Stuart Arms. There we can eat ‘

1

aroused in no gentle fashion. We sprang out
of bed, and instinctively seized our weapons.
It was still dark outside, but there was light
enough to reveal the burly figure of our
landlord standing in the middle of the room.

ergies to overhauling us, and we could hear| ‘‘He has another pistol,’’ cried Cyril,

them shouting lustily to their horses. But | ‘‘and is making ready to fire again. Quick,

not once during that mad chase did we look | Geoffrey, and don’t miss,”’

back, Our eyes were turned steadfastly| By this time I was turned half around in

ahead, and as the critica) moment drew | the saddle, pistol] in hand. I had always been

nigh, each one of us realized more fully | accounted a good shot, and never did I take} ‘‘You must be off at once, young gentle-

what a great issue was at-stake. On and on a more quick and careful aim than now. | men,’’ he whispered. ‘‘A troop of Round-

we galloped through the balmy April air, | With the barrel of the weapon pointed at )head cavalry are below, and they are in-

and when we were two-thirds down the hill, | the Roundhead’s face, I pulled the trigger. | quiring for you.’’

we saw that the hedge was a high and | The charge roared and flashed, and out of ‘*Hor us?’’ exclaimed Cyril.

bristly one, and that the water beyond it | the saddle pitched=the trooper. He was} ‘‘Yes, they bave followed you from Hun- |

lay at the bottom of a deep ditch. | dragged by the heel for several yards, and | tingdon, and know whither you are bound.
There was no time to falter or hesitate. | then his frightened steed broke clear of him | They have just dismounted, and are down

A few more strides, and we were face to| and went galloping off to the left. | stairs. They do not know yet that you are u
face with the frightful leap. We need not I did not look back after that, nor did I| here, but they will speedily discover it if|and drink while we question the land- o
they find your horses in the stables. lord.’’ e |

‘*T have little fondness for inns after our
experience at the Bull and Thistle,’’ said I;
‘*but I like the name of this one. It hatha

‘*Don’t delay to ask questions,’’ he added.

animals showed plainly that they were used | companions. At first I felt a horror of what
‘tAt heart, I am loyal to the king, and will

have feared for our steeds, since the gallant | reply to the warm congratulations of my |
I gasped | I had done, but it quickly wore away. I had

to the trials of the hunting-field.

 

for breath as my nag rose in the air, vaulted | merely slain a pestilent knave who deserved | gladly help you to escape. Come this way,
lightly over hedge and ditch and came safely | ten such deaths, and as I remembered the | and make no noise.’’

down on firm ground,

At the same moment Marmaduke and bis

king’s letter, I gloried in the deed.
Now that we were clear of pursuit, so

gray mare landed a little to my left. Cyril | far as we could see, we rode on with light

was less fortunate, for his steed came down

hearts as fast as our jaded horses could gal-

too near the edge of the ditch, and its hind | lop. The country to the south-west was level

legs slipped over the brink, For an instant |
a disaster seemed inevitable, but by dint of |
hard struggling the noble animal drew itself |
out on firm ground, and its rider was safe.

There was a gentle slope ahead of us, and
without loss of time we rode swiftly away, |
exulting in the success which had so far re-
warded us. But the most important issue |
was yet in doubt, and before we had gone’
far we turnéd in the saddle to look back.

We could have shouted for joy at what we |
saw. The Roundheads were now almost at |
the hedge, and the greater part of them had |
checked théir horses, evidently fearing to.
visk the leap. Several were riding to right |
and left, in hopes of finding an opening by
which they might get through to continue
the pursuit.

But three reckless fellows, not to be balked
ot their revenge, desperately urged their
steeds to the leap. One crashed into the
hedge, and horse and rider went heavily to
the ground. Another cleared the hedge, but
vanished in the ditch with a tremendous
splash. The third leaped safely over both
obstacles, and came galloping after us with
a yell of triumph.

We did not look to see more, and as we
sped on the savage shouts and imprecations
of our baffled foes rang fainter and fainter
behind us. Muskets and pistols cracked, but
none of the bullets came near enough to do
us harm,

When we were over the next ridge, and
out of sight on the farther slope, we remem-
bered that we had yet one trooper to reckon
with. We heard him coming, and a glance,
showed us that he was within several hun-
dred feet. He was a big fellow, and mounted
on a large horse. We could see the gleam of
his steel cuirass and weapons.

‘*He is sure to overtake us speedily,’’ said
Marmaduke, ‘‘and then I shall match blades
with him. I will serve bim as I did his
officer.’

‘*It will be unwise to let him come to close
quarters,’’ replied Cyril, ‘‘for in a fight
we shall lose precious time, Yours isythe
only loaded pistol, Geoffrey. You must put
this rogue out of the way for us, and that
quickly.’’

‘thet us wait a little,’’ said I. ‘‘I dislike
to shed blood in such deliberate fashion, and
the fellow may draw off shortly, seeing that
he is one against three.’’

‘*Chicken-heart!’’? sneered Marmaduke.
‘*You had better give me the king’s letter,
and make haste home to your grand-
father.’’

I choked down the passion that nearly
overmastered me at these insulting words,
but Cyril generously took my part.

‘*‘Wor. shame, Marmaduke,’’ he cried.
‘¢ After what we have shared this night, we
should be good and loyal comrades to one
another. So let us have no more of such
speech. . I can vouch for it that Geoffrey is
as stout-hearted as yourself.’’

‘If I spoke hastily,’? Marmaduke replied,
ina tone of mock courtesy, ‘‘then do I crave
Master Davenant’s pardon, But I would ad-
monish him that this trooper will cause us
trouble if he stays much longer upon our
track. Morning is not far off, and before
then we must be rid of him.”’

‘‘True,’? muttered Cyril. ‘‘In that I am of
the same mind. You hear, Geoffrey?’’

I nodded assent, and, indeed, 1 was begin-
ning to see that my companions were right.
I turned and looked back. The Roundhead
was scarce fifty yards away, and gaining
at every stride. His sword was sheathed, but
he had a pist6l in his hand; another seemed
to be gleaming at his belt.

‘‘Surrender, malignant dogs,’’ he shouted.
‘‘The bhangman’s rope awaits you.”’

‘*Say you so?’’ cried Marmaduke. ‘‘You
will sing a different tune shortly, you crop-
headed rascal. Have you no better manners
for speech with gentlemen cavaliers?’’

“Shoot, Geoffrey,’’ Cyril said, in a low
tone, ‘‘or give ‘me your weapon.”’

These words shamed me, and I forgot my
scruples. But before I could do Cyril’s bid-
ding the trooper, maddened by Marmaduke’s
taunting words, lifted his pistol and fired.
With the report Marmaduke gave a start,
and then put his hand to his head.

‘‘A narrow miss of it, that,’’ he growled,
‘*T have the ball through the top of my cap.

”

 

It is unseemly that we should be made tar-
gets of in this fashion.”’

and lonely, with many patches of woodland,
and in the next two hours we covered many
miles. By that time we felt pretty safe, for
as we had left no tracks behind it was not
likely that the Roundheads would be able to
follow us up. Moreover, it was doubtful if
they had continued the chase at all.

Also we now realized more deeply the
need of great and constant vigilance in the

, future, and the threatening nature of the

perils we were likely to encounter. We had
shed blood for the king, and the temper of
the Roundheads was such that we would
certainly be put to death if captured.

These things we talked over as we rode on,
and shortly before daylight we found our-
selves in a rugged and wooded country that
promised well for a hiding place. As nearly
as we could tell, we were a few miles over
the Warwickshire border.

Dawn saw us stowed away in a deep ray-
ine, the sides of which were covered with
rocks and trees. A stream furnished us with
cool and sparkling water, and there was
plenty of sweet herbage for our horses.

Here we spent the day peacefully, eating
and drinking, and sleeping by turns. No
danger came nigh us, and when night had
fallen, we made our way out to the open
country, and rode on our journey with con-
fidence and hope. Both we and our steeds
were well rested, and the latter were in good
fettle and spirits.

That night we must have made forty miles.
Here and there we met simple country-folk
on foot or in carts, but saw never a sign of
a soldier. We kept a pretty straight course,
riding partly in the fields and partly on the
roads, and from a distance we caught sight
of the villages of Shipton-on-Stow, Moreton,
and Cheltenham.

We thought it prudent not to stop any-
where, as with careful shifting, our store of
food was likely to last another day. »At
about four in the morning we crossed the
northern end of the Cotswold Hills, in
Gloucestershire, and put up for the day ina
dense wood, where there was water and
grass. We slept by turns, and ate the scanty
portion of food that remained. It was little
enough, and did not serve to satisfy our
hungey. 4

Partly for that reason, and partly because
we believed that no Roundheads were in this
part of the country, we ventured to resume
our journey about two hours before sunset,
We traveled due west, until we sighted the
River Severn, which was about at twilight,
and then we turned south on a road which
followed the bank of that noble stream. It
was our intention to pursue this course to
the mouth of the Avon, a few miles up
which river lay the town of Bristol.

It was a dark night, the sky being over-
cast with clouds, anda drizzling rain falling,
Each hour found us more wet and hungry,
and we were in low spirits when we reached
a riverside inn about two o’clock in the
morning. There was no light visible, but
we managed to make out the name, Bull and
Thistle, on the swinging signboard.

‘‘T remember this place,’’ said Cyril, ‘‘We
are only four miles from the village of Avon-
mouth, and my father’s estate lies ten miles
to the east. If we press on rapidly, we may
reach Bristol by daybreak.’

‘‘Which will be just the worst time ta, en-
ter,’’? replied Marmaduke. ‘‘Let us put up
here until to-morrow evening. We need rest
and food badly, and surely there is no dan-
ger of Roundheads in this secluded spot.
Besides, a storm is brewing.’’

Cyril and’ I held out for a time against
this plan, but finally Marmaduke won us
over. So we dismounted, and knocked at the
door of the inn. The summons was tardily
answered by the landlord himself, a fat and
kindly looking man, He seemed surprised to

see us, but asked no unpleasant questions, A

glance of Marmaduke’s gold made him agree
to our demands with alacrity, and he at once
aroused a lad and a maid-servant.

We kept our weapons, and allowed our
horses to be led away to the stables. Abun-
dant food and drink were served to us in
the tap-room, and when we had feasted roy-
ally we were taken to a rear apartment on
the second floor, in which were two large
beds. We jumped in without undressing, put
our weapons under our pillows, and were
sound asleep in a minute.

It seemed but a short time until we were

 

 

We followed the worthy man down stairs,
and thence to the rear door of the inn,

| Boisterous speech rang from the tap-room,

and there was a clatter of hoofs in the stable
yard.

‘*It is too late for you to get your horses,”’
the landlord whispered, as he opened the
door softly. ‘‘Follow this path to the river,
and there you will find a boat. God speed
you, gentlemen !”’

We had no chance to thank the trusty fel-
low, for the door was instantly closed. In
fear and trembling, we tumbled down the
narrow path through rain and mist, and
soon found the water and the boat. It was a
good-sized craft, and was fitted with two
pair of oars. We hastily took our seats,
shoved off, and pulled silently toward mid-
stream.

CHAPTER IX.

SAFE TO PENZANCE,
WITH MISFORTUNE.

IN WHICH WE. COME
AND THERE MEET

i HAT followed after our escape
\ from the Bull and Thistle may be

passed over briefly, since there is
c so much of greater importance for

my pen to dwell upon. To be robbed of our
horses, and driven out on the river at this
chill and dawning hour of the morning, was
not to our liking; yet it turned out for the
best, as you shall see.

The Severn being some eight miles broad
at this point, and the morning being misty
and wet, we were soon completely lost. For
three or four hours we drifted about in the
fog, sheering off from such vessels as came
our way. Then the air suddenly began to
clear, and we.found ourselves close to lee of
a good-sized brig at anchor, We were hailed
from the deck, and at the same moment
Cyril cried out that he knew the vessel.

Well, to make a long story short, we were
speedily on board, and now we learned’ that
our troubles were over for the present.
The ship was the Good Venture, belonging
to Sir John Rudstone, and its captain was a
loyal man, and an old friend of Cyril.

Captain Duncan told us that he had re-
turned from France but yesterday, and
knowing that Bristol was in the hands of the
Parliamentary forces, he had dropped anchor
in the river until he could decide if it
would be safe for him to go up to the town
harbor.

In the privacy of the cabin, he listened to
the story of our adventures, and no sooner
was he aware of what we had undertaken
to do than he swore he would set sail for
Cornwall at once. His crew were trusty fel-
lows, he said, and would go anywhere at his
bidding. He thought it prudent, however,
to keep the object of the voyage a secret
from them.

Matters being thus arranged to our satis-
faction, we thanked good Captain Duncan,
and went straightway to rest in snug bunks.
We slept long and soundly, and did not
awake until late in the afternoon. Then,
going on deck, we were surprised to find that
the Good Venture was well out in the Bris-
tol Channel, and some miles off the town of
Ilfracombe, in Devon.

I will speak no further of the voyage, save
to state that it was delayed somewhat by
stormy weather, and adverse winds, which
put us twice out of ourcourse. But at noon
on the fourth day after we left the Severn,
the Good Venture gallantly rounded Land’s
End, and two hours after sunset on that
same night, anchor was quietly dropped in
Mount’s Bay. Half a mile across the harbor
we saw the twinkling lights of the little fish-
ing port of Penzance.

The three of us at once embarked in a
small boat, accompanied by Captain Dun-
can, and pulled over to a lonely indentation
of the coast that lay a little to the south of
the village. Without difficulty we landed,
and the next thing we did was to see that
our weapons were in good order.

‘‘We must now part company for the pres-
ent, young gentlemen,’’ said the captain,
who was fully acquainted with our plans,
‘tand my advice is that ye be very circum-
ee on going into the town, ’Tis a pity
that ye need go at all, but there is no other
way of learning the whereabouts of Prince
Charles,’’

‘*None,’? replied Cyril; ‘‘but have no fear
for our safety, kind sir, Penzance is a loyal

lace, and doubt if there be a single

oundhead within many miles.’’

‘““That may be,’’ assented the captain,
‘*but prudence never comes amiss, And now

 

sound and loyal-ring.’’

‘*And doubtless it is both by nature,’’ re-
plied Cyril. ‘‘You are on your native soil
1ere, Marmaduke, so we must trust to your
guidance and judgment. Lead, comrade,
and we shall follow.’’ j

With this, we set off along the shore, and if
with every step I kept my hand pressed to i
the pocket that held the king’s letter, think-
ing gladly that I would soon deliver it to the
prince. Marmaduke presently led us into the
town, and we went boldly through the
quaint and hilly streets. ;

We saw no signs of either Royalist or Re-
publican soldiers, nor did we attract atten- '
tion from the few rude fishing folk we met.
At this hour the simple villagers were abed,
and the houses dark, and only at wide inter-
vals did we see a light glimmer. But, for all
that, enemies were near) and that we ; ;
avoided the perilous parts of the town was
surely due to something more than chance.
On that night, asin the past and future,
events turned most strangely in our favor.

The inn of which Marmaduke had spoken
was near the northern edge of the town, and

 

 

 

stood back of a dark and deserted street. It
was a low, squat building, with projecting s
eaves. On the left, it was built close up toa f

ditch of running water, which flowed out to
the street, and there passed under a wooden ;
bridge; on the right was a narrow yard, j

bounded on one side by the frontage of the ,
stables, and on the other by the side wall of

 

the inn. -
The front of the house had two windows

and a door, and over the latter a lantern Sb,

was swaying in the breeze. Below it dangled

the signboard, half torn from its rod, and I ri

saw with dismay that the painted image of . ce

King Charles was riddled with bullets. The

windows were curtained, and a bright light ie

shone within. a
All this we discovered at a glance, as soon r

as we turned in from the street, and after hes- |
itating a moment, we advanced quickly an
noiselessly to the stable yard, which was al-
most pitch dark. Here we found no chance
to reconnoitre, for the side windows weré
tightly closed,
But it was well that we had not boldly
entered the inn at the outset, as we firs
thought of doing, for as we crouched against
the shutters, we heard a great noise in thé
tap-room—boisterous voices shouting and
singing, booted feet shuffling, the rattle of
weapons, and the clink of pewter mugs. .
‘*More ill-luck for us,’’ gasped Cyril,
‘There are Roundhead soldiers in yonder.
‘¢ And a whole company of them, to judg
from the din,’’ whispered Marmaduke:
‘They are troopers, too; I can hear the
horses champing and neighing in the st@
bles.”’ is
‘‘What can the rascals be doing here?
said I. ‘‘Do you suppose they came afte?
us???

‘‘Hardly that,’? Cyril answered. ‘*The¥
ny belong to a larger force that ba
een sent down here to oppose the princ®
little nemay There can be no fighting going
on, though, elsé these fellows would not | ib
carousing at their ease in the inn, and wit
their steeds put up for the night.’’ *

‘*And by the same token, the prince ca? ”
be in the neighborhood,’’ whispered Marmé
duke. ‘‘Nor is this the place to get wor
him. We must try elsewhere,”’ e

“Wait a bit,’ said I, ‘By listening, @
may learn something of advantage. All see
to be abed, except these roysterers, a0
this dark spot we are quite safe.’’ ed

‘*Yes, if we make no noise,”’ whisper
Cyril. ‘‘You are right, Geoffrey; it wor
be unwise for us to leave just yet. Why»).
is even possible that these fellows are *
diers of the prince’s army.’’ son

We hopefully caught at this suggest
and again glued our ears to the shutté
But we were speedily undeceived. IX vi
course of a few minutes we heard the kpe al
toast the health of Oliver Cromwell, Gents,
Monk, and the Parliament; and fin@ 7.
with hoarse applause, they drank ‘COP ig
sion ty the Royalists,’’ and ‘‘Death id
king.’’ We listened longer, but not oné@ wpe
was spoken that would give us a clew tor
whereabouts of the prince. tet 1

‘¢ *Tis no use,’’ whispered Cyril. ‘ Le
be off while we may.’’

‘*So say I,’’?’ Marmaduke added.
I have another place to take you.’ joé

So we left the windows, and crept # gle:
the side of the house toward the front oe we
There stood a great pile of straw, and ® g—
were nearly upon it, the dark figure ut: / ae
man rose up, with a grunt, in front of

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

    
   
   
   
  
 
    
   
   
   
   

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OR

 

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.

(“LAD ELECTRIC” was commenced in No. 318. Back
numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.)

anthiecieetibhsecnasine

CHAPTER XIII.
NEW YORK AND SHADY HAVEN.

UTSIDE Lad encountered his in-
separable companion, Harry Armis-
ton,

a ‘‘Hello, Lad Electric!’’ saluted the
latter cheerily.

‘Hello, yourself !’’ responded Lad.

“Take notice that I give you the new
Name the papers have christened you,’’
Said Harry. ‘‘I tell you, Lad, you’re rapidly
becoming famous. see you got into the
Papers again last night.’’

“‘Yes, and I’ve got into the professor,
too,’ responded Lad. ‘‘But I don’t sit well
On his stomach; gives him a pain, and he’s
£0ing to pack me off to a boarding-school to
Stop it.’’

FE Nol??

“Fact.’? :

‘*Well, 1711 be shot!’’ exclaimed Harry.

When are you going?”’

‘*To-morrow morning, I guess. The pro-
€ssor is telegraphing about it now.’’

‘‘Well, I’m mighty sorry to hear that. 1
Shall miss you a lot, I tell you. How do you

€el about it yourself, old man?’’

*“Oh, so-so! I suppose there’ll be one or
two chances for fun up at boarding-school,’’
Said Lad, significantly.
eho buch you will take full advantage of,

*‘Maybe.’’

., ‘Oh, trust you for that! I bet you'll
have a high old time up there, Lad.”’

.The professor is sending me away to get

os of my pranks, and make a good boy of

e.

“I think I see you becoming one,”
laughed Harry. ‘‘But just the same I am
Sorry you’re going. I will feel lost without

oi

You
‘‘Perhaps you can persuade your folks to
Send you to Shady Haven Academy, too.’
toNo, I’m afraid not,’? said) Harry.
They’re going abroad pretty soon, to be
80ne for several years, and they’ll want me
80 with them.”’
‘That’s too bad. Well, you'll have to ex-
Use me now, Harry. I’ve got to go in and
Set ready.”’
‘Well, so long, old fellow! Ill see you
"Zain before you go,’’ and they parted.
f mething over an hour later the pro-
®Ssor received a telegram, which he read
With Satisfaction, and then sought the pres-
Nee of his ward.
t He found him assisting—principally with
Sing comments—Ella and the housekeeper
© over his things and pack bis trunk.
ell, my boy, the arrangements are
fomplete,’’ said the professor, pala
Doctor Wackins is quite willing to take
ou at once, and do the best he can for you.
Sy Will have his carriage at the station at
: aay Haven to meet you, and you will go
7 the nine o’clock train. So fly around
Od make what preparations you have to
tie ® this afternoon, for you will have no
Boy p>” the morning. Fly around, my

And he bustled out with unusual activity.
ton ell, I’m blest!’’ commented Lad aloud.
onto Professor is getting a little of the sleep
Done himself with a vengeance, isn’t he?
ag t know when I’ve seen him in such a

®at before.’’

Of y.CU shouldn’t speak so disrespectfully
.7£ur uncle,’’ said the housekeeper.

hat’s the matter, are you tipsy again?”’
Lad, slyly. ‘‘I’m not afraid of a peck

(4 40 old hen.”’
th; Lad, get out!’’ cried Ella, flushing at

is dig at her.

of ae going,’’ said Lad, from the outside

te] °° half-open door. ‘‘Say, Nell, did you

“Rig Cook to lay herself out on something

Marge °t me to take along to astonish the in-

An.» % the fellows up at Shady Haven
fademy??

Nox, &s,’? answered Ella. ‘‘Now do get out.

tigate @ nuisance around.’’

‘al ISterly love,’? observed Lad, sarcasti-

dey if and he walked off humming, ‘‘I won-

R they’ll miss me when I’m gone?’’

Te . hied himself away to the lower
kip 2S, and found the empress of the
Dey ®n busily engaged in certain culinary
g triions designed to conduce to his future

«“po40mic comfort, not to say delight.

he ban fair Queen of the Frying Pan,”’

- this fet: ‘Ave you laying yourself out on
rasuve oecasion?’?

Yin’ mesilf out, is it, Masther Lad?’

Sigy, Zed the cook, who was a lady of Mile-

®Xtraction, good nature and consider-

 

GOoonD NEWS.

11

 

able avoirdupois, ‘‘indade an’ thot I’m not!
shure, pwhat wud I be layin’ mesilf out fur
whin there’s so much to do?”?

‘Well, you an’t fixing up something to
lay me out, are you?’’ asked Lad.

‘‘Niver the wanst, Masther Lad! Shure,
it’ll make yer stomach feel good, the things
{ do be gittin’ ready fer ye!’’

‘‘That’s the talk, cook! Pile ’em in. Do
your best, old girl, and when I grow up [ll
make you Mrs. Lad.’’

‘‘Ah, go away wid yer nonsense!’’ cried
the good-natured kitchen queen.

‘‘Fact! The man that gets you will draw
a prize. You can give a fellow biscuits just
like his mother used to make, you know.
But say, cook, I want you to lay yourself
out this time. I want to astonish those inno-
cent little kids at Shady Haven. After
they’ve tasted your cooking, I’l] make them
give you a vote of thanks, and send you a
copy engrossed on paper in bang-up style.
I’ll have them work in it, ‘Cordelia O’Fla-
herty, the  ten-thousand-dollar cooking
beauty.’ How will that go, eh?’’

‘‘Ah, go off wid yer blarney,
Lad !??

Lad went off in search of Harry.

Finally came next morning, and the hour
of his departure.

His baggage, consisting of his trunk, and
a large box—of which more hereafter—stood
waiting in the hall-way for the arrival of
the expressman.

Here, too, the household had congre-
gated, half glad, half sorry to see him go.

For despite his many practical jokes, Lad’s
open, generous, whole-souled nature had
made him rather a general favorite, and
there was hardly one, with the exception of
the deeply aggrieved Miss Anastasia Hig-
gins, who did not feel a tinge of regret on
bidding him good-by.

The ancient maiden remarked with a toss
of her head that it was ‘‘good riddance,’
etc.

‘‘Sorry to hear it, Higgsy, old girl,’’ he
remarked, disrespectfully. ‘‘Sure you’re
sober at present? I’d steal a kiss, but I
don’t like vinegar. Sours to the sour.”’

However, the time had now arrived.

So, with a last hand-shake all round, Lad,
in company with the professor, Ella, and
Harry Armiston, who were going to see him
off, got into the carriage, which drove off,
amid a general waving of hands and chorus
of well-wishes.

‘‘T say, Nell,’’ said Lad, as they bowled
along, ‘‘did you put those spoons and pre-
serve dishes in the box, as 1 asked you to?’’

‘“Yes,’? said Blla, ‘‘though I was afraid
you didn’t want them for a very good pur-
pose, ”’

‘‘That’s all right, Nell.
of a sister to have.
some day.’’

‘‘Now, Lad,’’ said Professor Sorghum to
his nephew, as the three stood bidding him
farewell, on the train that was about to
pull out of the Grand Central Station, ‘‘re-
member to behave yourself, and to try to
be an honor to your name and to Doctor
Wackins’ school. Write often, and let us
know how you get along. I very much re-
gret to part with you, but——’’

‘*Shake hands, unc’,’’ interrupted Lad.

The professor placed his fingers within
those of his nephew, and an instant later
gave a jump and a yell.

‘‘Oh, oh! You rascal, what are you do-
ing?’’ he cried, as he recognized the familiar
sensations of the Terrible Touch. :

‘‘Just lessening your regret at parting
from me. I don’t want you to wear your
heart out with grief,’’ grinned the young
reprobate.

‘Well, well! Boys will be boys, I suppose.
Good-by, and God bless you, and don’t for-
get my advice! Remember, we always love
you, and if any trouble happens let us know
at once.”’

‘‘T will, sir,’? said Lad, more affected
than he would have admitted by the old
gentleman’s words. ‘‘Well, good-by, Nell!”’

Ella extended her hand, with a warning
look, whereat Lad smiled and did not at-
tempt to inflict the Terrible Touch as he
clasped it. ; :

‘“Come;sNell, give me a sisterly kiss, can’t
you? That’s the sort! Well, good-by, Harry,
old man! Squeeze it hard, this is our last
hand-shake for some time I guess. If you go
abroad, don’t forget to uphold the honor of
old Yankeeland among the frog-eaters and
beefers. ’’ 2

“You bet I won’t!’? said Harry, heartily.

An instant later the leave-taking was
over, they had hurried out of. the car, and
Lad sat alone, looking in the direction they
had gone, with a suspicious lump in his
throat. ;

However, at that moment the train
started, and drew bis mind to other things.

He settled comfortably back in his seat,
and prepared to enjoy the rapidly moving
panorama constantly unfolded from the car
window.

About two hours later the train came to a
stop at the station of Shady Haven, and our
hero got out.

There in front of him was the railway
station, and beyond it the little village of
Shady Haven nestling picturesquely among
the hills, at whose base flowed the beautiful
Hudson, the American Rhine.

It being a dull time of the day the station
was almost deserted. i

Masther

You’re the kind
I’ll do as much for you

 

There were, however, two or three em-
ployees about, and at the other side of the
building a carriage was waiting.

To this Lad directed his steps.

“Ts this the carriage from Doctor Wack-
ins’ school?’’ he asked.

‘*Yes,’’ returned the driver, ‘‘and I guess
you’re the boy we want. Jump right in!’’

And he smiled in what Lad thought a
rather satirical way, though he gave it no
more than passing attention at the time.

He had good cause to remember it before
he was two hours older.

CHAPTER XIV.
LAD FINDS HIMSELF IN A MADHOUSE.

HE driver at once whipped up his
2 horse, and the carriage started off at
‘I. rather a rapid pace, Lad thought.

ie? It was a closed vehicle, too, and he
could see little of the surrounding country
as they bowled along.

Indeed, there was something curiously
secretive about the entire proceeding.

“‘Doctor Wackins must be about as eccen-
tric as my guardian,’’ mused Lad to him-
self. ‘*Perhaps that’s why unc’ likes him.’’

Finally the carriage drove through a large
double gate of iron bars in a high stone
wall, and a few minutes later came to a
stop.

‘‘Here we are,’’ said the driver, opening
the door; ‘‘come on.’?

Lad promptly got out, and glancing quick-
ly around, saw the outlines of a large stone
building, with iron bars to the windows,
and altogether a very stern and forbidding
appearance.

lt looked more
school, he thought.

And to add to the resemblance there was
a high wall around it.

But at that moment the driver, with an
ejaculation of impatience, pulled him for-
ward.

‘‘Hold your horses a minute! This is never
Shady Haven Academy,’’ exclaimed Lad.

Yes, it is.”’

‘*It looks
school.’?

‘‘That’s only on the outside. Wait till you
get in.”’

Lad accordingly yielded, and was pulled
forward through a door-way into what
seemed a kind of office.

Here he found himself confronted by a
very tall man, several inches over six feet
in height, and heavily built, with a colf,
hard face,

It was a face in which there was little of
pity or conscience either.

‘‘Aha!?’ said this individual, rubbing his
hands together. ‘‘So this is the boy, eh?’’

‘*Yes,’’ said the driver. ‘‘He came by the
11.02 train.’’

‘*Good!"’ exclaimed the other. ‘Well,
young man what do you think of things?’’

‘¢Are you Doctor Wackins?’’ asked Lad.

‘*7? Oh, yes, of course I am. Ha, ha, ha!’?

“‘What’s the matter with you? Aren’t
yon all there?’’

‘¢Hh???

‘*Are you looney?’’ asked Lad, who could
see no reason for the outburst of laughter.

‘‘Looney! Ha, ha! Did you hear that,
Jenkins? Very good joke, eh? Ha, ha} ha!’?

A moment later, becoming serious, he
tapped his forehead significantly.

‘*Very bad sign, Jenkins, very bad sign!
One of the symptoms of his mania is to al-

like a prison than a

more like a_ prison than a

ways suspect other persons of insanity. Re-

member it, Jenkins, for future use,’’

‘‘Wonder what on earth they’re driving
at,’? thought Lad. ‘‘This is the funniest
kind of a school that I ever heard of.”’

‘‘Come,’’ said the big man, taking him
by the arm. }

He led him through several hall-ways, up
a flight of iron stairs, and stopped before a
door.

Lad noticed that everything appeared to
have been built with a view to strength and
solidity, and all bore out the prison-like ap-
pearance,

His conductor opened the door before
them, and as he did so Lad recoiled with a
ery of horror. ,

“Great Heaven!’’ he exclaimed, ‘‘What’s
this!’’

He was standing in another hall-way with
stout, iron-barred cells on either side.

These cells were six in number, and were
occupied, save with one exception, each by
a restless, half-animal, half-human creature,
with unkempt hair, ragged clothing dis-
torted features and eyes that blazed with
the wild glare of insanity. —

In a word, ‘they were maniacs.

‘‘What are you up to?’’ cried Lad. ‘I
thought you said this was Doctor Wackins’
school?’’ . 6

‘“‘Of course it is,’’? said the big man.

‘‘Look here,’’? said Lad, ‘‘either you are
mad, or I am.’’

‘““Of course you’re mad,’’ was the big
man’s answer. ‘‘Mad as a march hare! I
am glad to see you realize it. It, isa good
sign.’’

TWhat place is this???’

“This isthe violent ward of ‘Doctor Quin-
ley’s Private Asylum for the Insane, and I
am Doctor Quinley.’’ ;

‘‘Well, if you think I’m crazy you’ve got
the wrong sow by the ear, I can tell you. I
am a scholar bound for Doctor Wackins’

 

school, and was sent there by my guardian.
You’re making a big mistake, and you’d
better look out for squalls.”’

‘‘No, it is you who are making the mis-
take, young man. I know all about the
whole matter. You supposed you were going
to Doctor Wackius’ school, but your guard-
ian, knowing your unsound and, I may say,
dangerous mental condition made arrange-
ments with us, and notified us to havea
carriage waiting for you at the depot, and
bring you here instead. The delusion of the
boarding-school he merely adopted as a sub-
terfuge to save trouble. In accordance with
his instructions 1am now about to place
you ina cell.’’

His-guardian !

Lad was aghast at the statement.

Could it really be true?

His guardian do such a thing as that?

No, he-could not harbor the idea fora
moment!

Yet the man’s story was certainly very
circumstantial and plausible.

There was the carriage waiting for him at
the station, the driver of which knew he
wanted to go to Doctor Wackins,

Could it be possible that his uncle had
done this to be avenged on him for his in-
numerable tricks?

Or could it be that he regarded those
tricks as an evidence of insanity, and had
meant to send him here to be cured?

No, no; with all his eccentricities the pro-
fessor possessed too much common sense for
that. ;

And as he remembered the last affection-
ate words of the good old gentleman, Lad
dismissed the idea from his mind, reproach-
ing himself severely for having harbored it
even a moment.

But there certainly must be a great mis-
take somewhere.

‘*‘Come,’’ said his companion, ‘‘I am go-
ing to put you in a cell.”’

“*See here, I tell you you’re barking up
the wrong tree,’’ retorted Lad.

‘‘Nonsense! You can’t fool me with any
of that talk. {f you won’t submit peacefully
I will have to use force.’

‘*You’d better try it on,’’ said Lad, feel-
ing secure in his possession of the Terrible
Touch. ‘‘What right have you got to im-
prison me, anyhow? Where are the certifi-
cates of my insanity that the law requires
you to have?’’

‘*l’ye got them safe enough.”’

‘*T don’t believe it. Show them to me. I
demand to see them.”

‘Well, your demand won’t be satisfied.’’

‘“*Now, look here,’’ cried Lad. ‘‘I’m no
baby, and I know a thing ortwo. If you
attempt to put mein one of those cells, or
to detain me here at all, you are acting
against the law, and I’ll make it red-hot for
you when I get out!’

‘‘We'll see about that,’’ said the doctor,
grasping him by the arm.

He did see about it, for Lad promptly
caught his hand, and inflicted the Terrible
Touch.

‘Oh,
proprietor, dancing with the pain.
me, Jenkins!’

Jenkins essayed to obey,.and he, too, re-
ceived a dose.

‘‘Here, help, help, help! Honk, Peters,
come here, and help me overpower this
little demon !?’

In response to Quinley’s cries two men
came running in, with short but heavy clubs
in their hands,

They were the keepers in the asylum.

They rushed in at once, seeing how mat-
ters stood, to take a hand in the fray.

The scene now became one of frightful
uproar, for the maniacs, becoming wildl
excited at sight of the fight, began to yell
at the top of their voices, and beat against
e, bars, in their eagerness to take part in
it.

But in all the confusion Lad was nothing
daunted.

oh!’ yelled the giant madhouse
‘*Help

His blood was up, and he was determined 3

to escape from the place.

He would probably have accomplished his
purpose, had not one of the keepers managed
to get behind him and aim a blow at his

ead.
The club descended with telling force on
the brave boy’s skull, and he fell to the
floor.
At the same moment his senses left him.

CHAPTER XV.
A MOMENT OF FEARFUL PERIL.

a, HEN Lad recovered consciousness
(, he looked around with a_ bewil-
dered air.

He put his hands by his sides
and felt’ a hard stone flooring; in fronta
grating of iron bars met his gaze.

At once he comprehended the situation.

He was lying in one of the cells of that
private insane asylum !

While he was helpless with insensibility
his enemies had accomplished their purpose.

‘‘Here’s a case!’’ he exclaimed, ‘‘regular
case of taken in and done for. I’m a caged
bird this time for sure.”’

Not even the seriousness‘of the situation
could dampen his spirits.

‘*Wonder what they would say at home, if
thy knew of this?’’ he reflected. ‘‘Wouldn’t
they have a fit! That yarn about une’ hav-

 
    
  
  
  
   
  
    
   
  
  
     
 
  

  
  
  
        
   
    
  
  
   
 
 
   
   
   
  
  
   
 
   
     
  
    
  
    
   
   
  
   
  
     
  
  
    
    
   
    
  
   
   
   
   
  
   
    
  
   
   
  
    
   
    
    
  
   
    
    
   
   
   
   
    
   
    
  
  
    
  
     
    
      
    
     
    
 

   
 

 

   

 

; said Lad, composedly, as he repeated the

; fle soon obtained the desired opportunity.

12

GooD

“Pll teach you a_ lesson, you young

ing me put here is all bosh! But now that I
whelp!’’ exclaimed Quinley, angrily opening

am here, | reckon [711 have to stir things up
a bit before I get out. These people want | the door of the cell, and\rushing inside.
waking up, and the Terrible Touch is the{| He grasped Lad by the arm, and Lad
chap to do it. We'll astonish the natives! I} grasped him—with the usual result.
can make myself a nuisance anywhere. At There was a wild bounce in the air, the
least, Anastasy always saidso! I’m afraid | spectacle of a human figure bounding about

 

 

the Higgins never properly appreciated | like a rubber ball, arms and legs flying this

me.’? way, that and all the others, and a wild,
Lad looked about curiously at his sur- | terror-stricken bellow.

roundings. **Oh, oh, oh! Oh, stop, stop, stop!”’

The corridor was by no means as noisy as A trial of the Terrible Touch had resulted
it had been before; the disturbing causes | in a highly satisfactory manner.
having disappeared, the maniacs had quieted

| ‘*What particular kind of lesson were you

down. | going to teach me first?’’ asked Lad, with

They were now sitting or lying quietly in! fine sarcasm. ‘‘Going to give me an example
their cells, with one exception. ‘ of cutting the pigeon wing?”’

This was the occupant of the cell next to ‘*Oh, let go my hand, you young scoun-

Lad. drel!’’ roared Quinley. ‘‘Let go my hand,

or [’ll skin you alive!’’

““P’li be there when you do,’’ retorted
Lad.

Suddenly recollecting that he had in his
pocket the identical piece of fine steel wire

with which he had executed his memorable
joke upon Miss Anastasia Higgins, he pro-
ceeded to put it to use.

This was done by twisting one end round
Quinley’s wrist. Then, by holding the other
end he was still able to communicate the
electrical current to him,

Putting his hand in the victim’s pocket,
he secured his bunch of keys, with one of
which he unlocked the cell door, and passed
outside.

He passed the wire through the bars, and
still kept one end in his hand.

‘‘Now, then, did you ever see a monkey
on a string?’’ he exclaimed, addressing the
madhouse proprietor. ‘‘Well, you want to
look in the glass. Let’s see you dance.’’

With the last word he sent a vigorous cur-
rent of electricity through the wire.

‘Oh, oh!?’? howled Quinley, leaping into
the air, and kicking wildly at space, ‘‘oh,
stop, let go, you—you—oh!”’

‘*Dance, you villain, dance!’’

‘*Oh, oh!’’? again yelled the rascal, with
the jump of a kangaroo.

‘*How do you like it now, my daisy?
Dance, you beauty, dance!’

And Quinley danced! Up and down, to
and fro, kicking wildly at space, having his
feet half the time higher than his head,

As for Lad, he viewed: the scene with the
wildest delight.

‘Oh, don’t talk to me about your cir-
cuses !’’ he shouted. ‘This is a regular giant
three-ringer with all the side-shows thrown
in! Oh, I never enjoyed myself so much in
my lifetime! Look at the madhouse-keeper
doing the mad act himself in one of his own
cells! Dance, you beauty, dance!’?’

And again with a startled‘howl of agony
and rage did Quinley bounce into the air
and perform some vigorous and original
gymnatics on empty space.

To add to his pleasure, his violent antics,
instead of exciting, appeared to amuse the
lunatics, who were laughing and gibbering
at him in a most disrespectful manner.

This was adding insult to injury.

To be made the laughing-stock of his own
crazy patients!

‘*Stop this!’’ he cried, furiously. ‘‘ Release
me! Let me out at once, or you'll repent
this !’’ 5

‘‘Don’t talk to me,’’ cried Lad. ‘‘You’re
off your base. Your brain is overheated.
You want to put your nut in soak in ice-
water for a week. Do you suppose I pay any
attention to a dancing yelling lunatic? Oh,
come off !’’

The villain shook his fist at him, with
frantic rage.

‘*You would love to lay it in to me if you
could, old boy, wouldn’t you?’’ grinned
Lad, marking the look of malignant hatred
in his eyes. ‘‘Guess we’ll give you a little
exercise to make you feel good-natured.
Dance, you beauty, dance away! Luet’s see
you cut the pigeon wing !’’

And again, with a maddened yell, did the
victim bound in the air.

Suddenly, however, there was an inter-
ruption.

The door at the end of the corridor flew
open, and in .rushed Jenkins, accompanied
by the two ruffians, Honk and Peters.

In*his hands the former carried an object
which Lad recognized as a strait-jacket.

It was evidently intended for his benefit.
‘““Taking a good deal of trouble on my
account,’’ remarked the young rascal, cool-
ly. ‘‘If this thing keeps on, they’ll learn,
after a while, to treat me with the distin-
guished consideration I deserve.”’

As for the intruders they were rooted to
the floor with amazement at the unexpected
sight that burst upon their view.

He was a large man of powerful build,
and evidently possessed of great strength.

He was walking uneasily back and forth,
from one end,.of the apartment to the other,
beating his breast with his hands, and utter-
ing insane cries.

Occasionally he would approach the
barred partition separating Lad’s cell from
his own, and uttering angry cries, try with
maniacal fury to get at the boy, asif to
tear him to pieces, glaring, at him the while
with orbs that glowed with insane hatred.

The sight made Lad’s flesh creep, in spite
of himself, and caused him to shudder and
shrink away.

‘‘T say,’’? he exclaimed, ‘‘you’re a nice
sort‘of chap to be seeking a closer acquaint-
ance, aren’t you?”’

The maniac paused, and regarded him
curiously as he spoke, and when he had
finished shook his head, running over with
great shaggy locks of hair, at him, witha
snarl of rage.

Suddenly Lad was startled by a burst of
sardonic laughter.

‘‘Ha, ha! Wouldn’t like to have him get
at you, eh?”’

Looking around he saw the self-styled
doctor, Quinley, standing, with folded arms,
in the corridor and laughing heartily at
his own joke.

“*T guess I like it as well as you would,’’
returned Lad.

‘‘Look here, keep a civil tongue in your
‘head, and don’t be so impudent !’’ exclaimed
the doctor, angrily.

“¢T will if 1 like.’’

‘*You take my advice, and do as I tell
you, or you’ll get into trouble.’’

‘*[ don’t think I shall. I’m a little partic-
ular as to whom I take advice from.’’

“Tf you don’t behave yourself, I’ll teach
you a lesson!”’

‘In scoundrelism, I suppose,’’ retorted
Lad. ‘‘That’s the only thing you are quali-
fied to give instruction in, But look here,
now, this thing has gone past fooling.
You’ve had your joke, now let me out.’’

“Not if 1 know it,’’ said Quinley.
‘“You’re too dangerous to be set at lib-
erty.’’

‘‘T’]l be dangerous to you if you don’t set
me at liberty,’’ answered Lad.

‘‘Bah! You are mad—mad as a March
hare!’

‘“No, I’m not yet, but I’m getting there—
not mad as a March hare, but as a hornet,
and if I do I shall sting, I tell you.’’

‘“You will soon be as clean gone out of
your senses as that wretch there,’’ ex-
claimed Quinley.

‘Oh, so that’s the racket, eh?’’ exclaimed
Lad. ‘‘That’s why you have the cells so
open and exposed. The constant presence
and sight of these maniacs and their crazy
antics are enough to drive a sound man out
of his head. I thought this place was ar-
ranged in a strange way to cure people, but
I see now. You don’t cure them. Instead of
making the insane sane you drive the sane
erazy. You manufacture your own patients,
eh?’

‘‘Tt won’t be long before you’ll be yelling
and screeching like that fellow there,’’ said
Quinley.

‘‘Like this, eh?’’ exclaimed Lad, and
drawing a long breath he raised his voice in
such an appalling screech that even the
hardened Quinley, accustomed as he was to
such cries, had to thrust his fingers in his
ears.

‘Don’t do that again,’’ he cried.

‘‘T shall,’’ replied Lad, ‘‘I want practice.’’

“Shut up!’’ cried Quinley, as the ear-
piercing cry again rose, ‘‘you’re stirring up
the maniacs.’

“<T thought I should stir up something,”’

?

ery.
‘wil you shut up?’’

“Not for Joe—or you either. There’s

NEWS.

 

‘*You’re a very sweet-dispositioned chap,
aren’t you to go to so much trouble over a
naughty little kid like me?’’

‘ll show you! I’ll see how you like the
taste of this, my fresh kid!’’ exclaimed the
keeper, snapping with vicious emphasis the
whip he had in his hand.

This was an article with a short wooden
handle and three long lashes, knotted at the
ends. The throngs were of leather, square
instead of round and when vigorously ap-
plied to the flesh would evidently cut almost
like a knife.

over-inclined to be merciful just aow.”’

remarked Peters. ‘‘Ha, ha, ha!
him dancing about like a looney!
ho!”?

doc at once.’’

agely.

‘*Will you?
Lad, coolly.
you believed it.
all you hear.’’

 

 

 

Jenkins.

”?

around, Lad murmured,
fix if I hadn’t?’’

With characteristic confidence, he
bring him safely out of his perilous situa-
tion,

crisis, as Jenkins and his assistants edged
toward him, evidently in preparation for a
sudden and combined rush.
‘*That’s right,’’ said Lad.
me right at home and ready to entertain
company. Step right up and shake hands.
Don’t be at all bashful. Come right along!
Glad to see you so sociable.’’

He could tell by the look in Jenkins’ eye
that he was boiling over with rage at his
cool manner and the saucy way he had
chaffed him, and eager to make him change
his tone.

‘*Now, then, my fine cub,’’ he exclaimed,
‘‘we’ll teach you a lesson and make you
laugh on the other side of your mouth.”’
‘*Oh, no,’’ retorted Lad, ‘‘I never laugh
on that side.”’

With a recollection of his former experi-
ence, he backed into a corner, to prevent
the possibility of being taken in the rear.

you change your tune!’

in a corner when he’s dealing with such curs
as you that sneak up behind a man and hit
him in the back, even when they’re four to
one,”’

‘*We’ll see!’’ hissed Quinley, white with
rage. ‘‘On him, boys!’

‘Yes, come on; I’m waiting!’’ cried Lad,
defiantly.

Whether asa result of their former en-
counter or not, the men evidently regarded
him with respect, if not actual fear, for
they drew together and prepared to set upon
him all together, as if they thought any
lesser number would be unable to cope with
him. Possibly, also, his demeanor had some-
thing to do with it, fora high and lofty
spirit will always impress its power on one
of less strength of character. '

The three men rushed upon Lad in a body,
and prepared to seize and overcome him be-
fore he could think twice.

For an instant there was a confused mass
in the corner, as they made wild efforts to
seize him, and he dodged about to escape.
But the next moment——

‘*Oh, oh, oh!??

“Oh, oh, oh!”?

‘Oh, oh, oh!’?

Lad had contrived to apply the Terrible
Touch, and three dancing, howling human
beings were the result.

suffer for this!’’? roared Jenkins.

‘“‘So. you said before,’’ remarked Lad.
‘What a liar you are!”'

“Oh, oh!’’ yelled the three men, franti-
cally, twisting and squirming about in his
grasp like eels under the skinning-knife,
Instead of acceding to their request, Lad
put on the electrical power a little stronger,
‘“Oh, oh!’ howled the scoundrels, acceler-
ating their motions; while the tears were
actually squeezed out of their eyes by the

‘“‘Confound you! Stop it, or ’ll make you |

‘Well, come on, and we’ll make a chance
to use it,’’ said Jenkins. ‘‘I’ll put the strait-
jacket on him, and then you can lay on
with the whip. I don’t think the doc will be

‘**No more nonseuse. Come on!’’ exclaimed |

never a doubt that his marvelous gift would |

Matters were now rapidly approaching a |

**You will find |

‘‘Aha!’’? exclaimed Jenkins, ‘‘slinking,
away already, eh? I thought we’d make
y ;

‘‘Well, good-day, doc!’’ said Lad, coolly,
|addressing himself with a nod to Quinley,
| who stood glaring at him with impotent
| rage ; ‘‘have to leave you now, but I won’t
| forget you, or your elegant place of resi-
| dence-for all who care to apply. Ob, I'll
|give you a rattling recommendation, never
jtear. And you, my amiable friend’’—this to
| Honk—‘‘just keep that whip until we meet
again, and console yourself with the reflec-
tion of oh, what a dandy time you would
have had if you could-have made a checker-
board of my back. But I an’t in the checker-
board business to-day. So long!’?

With a sarcastic smile he sauntered down
the corridor with an air of ‘‘Lo, the con-
| quering hero comes!’’
| Not one of his late antagonists possessed

|

‘*No, the kid has got him in a dandy fix,’’?| the power to raise a hand to prevent this
Look at | escape before their eyes.
Ho, ho, |

To their vicious and vindictive natures it
| was the torture of Tantalus to see their prey

‘‘Shut your mouth! We must rescue the | thus escaping them.

On reaching the door at the end of the

‘And then I’11 make a checker board of | corridor, Lad found it locked, as he had ex-
your back, my beauty!’’ hissed Honk, say- | pected.

He had still in his possession, however,

Who told you so?’’ retorted | Quinley’s bunch of keys, which he had taken
‘‘Somebody told you so, and | from his pocket.
You don’t want to believe

| He at once began to try them in the key-
hole, to see which would open the door.

As’the bunch was a large one and several

| keys seemed likely ones, the task occupied

‘*Good job [I’ve got old Terrible Touch | him a few moments.
inwardly. |
‘*Wouldn’t [ be in the sweetest kind of a/ and glanced over his shoulder.

Suddenly he heard a noise behind him,

| Instantly he started up, and recoiled with

had | a cry of horror.

Bounding with long leaps toward him was
a horrible-looking creature, with long, un-
kempt hair and beard, gnashing teeth and
wildly rolling eyes. Its arms were’ out-
stretched: toward him, and the claw-like
fingers spread apart, as if eager to seize the
| boy and tear him limb from limb.
| **Great heavens!’’ gasped Lad.
i have let the maniac out at me!’

‘They

 

 

And for a moment even his steut heart
quailed.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
—-—e-—e—_—
MY COAL MINE ADVENTURES.
BY S. P. CADMAN.
a ¢

O-MORROW is your first day at the
> pit; so off to bed, my lad, for bright
L). and early will your rising be at four
in the morning.’?

What cared I for aught save that by to-,
morrow eve I would be a proud collier lad-
die, only twelve years old, and yet having
earned my first shilling. At my mother’s
bidding, I climbed the old-fashioned stair-

 

“‘Oh,’? retorted Lad, ‘‘a fellow has to get way, and the first sleep brought dreams of
| every legend, myth, and mystery with’ which

|

Dick Cartwright and Henry Tudor had s0
often regaled my listening ears. I had heard
them tell of ‘‘Hairy Richard,’’ the con-
jurer, and Sally Partridge, who foretold
deaths, and the white dog which ran before
Stephen Rhodes the day he was killed, ors
worst of ‘all, of the ‘‘Seven Whistlers,”’
birds of ill-omen, whose ghoulish carolling
was warbled in the witching midnight hour,
just before the terrific explosion at thé
Sandwell Park pits. ;

All these Superstitions rushed past me
my slumbers with panoramic swiftness.

I saw, to my childish horror, the dreadé
white dog. I tried not to follow, but some-
thing compelled me against my utmost will:
And as I ran, he turned and assumed a&D-
other form, and reared before me like #
Polar bear. I screamed, terror-stricken, a¥
awoke. i

‘‘Come, sonnie,’’ said the quiet, soothing
voice of my mother, ‘‘you have done noth-
ing but dream and cry to-night. Now you
must get up and follow your father.’’

With a suspicious choking, she passed from
the chamber.

 

I arose, dressed,.and an hour later stood
at the mouth of the Little Hayes shaft
seven hundred and fifty feet deep.

Over my head in the void of darkness, the
pulleys and chains groaned and rattled. T
hoarse cry of the man in charge, the wel
shadows of the tackle cast by the wateb-
fires, the grim, silent groups of hardy mi?)
ers, made a picture which forever impress
itself upon my youthful memory. I see ?
again as I write.

‘““Get in here,
voice, r

And in I got. Eight chains passed under
me and seven others. So that we swung %
over the yawning mouth, with its lonts

'
quick !’? commanded €

music in the air. How do you like it?’’ The asylum proprietor in a cell and dance- } pain. long throat beneath us, just as you wou k
The maniacs had by this time followed his | ing and screeching like one of the maniacs, Lad viewed their distress with great com-| truss and hang birds before a fire to coo
lead, and joined in the scream, and the re-|at the will of the individual who, a few | placency. them. e
sult was something nerve-shattering in| minutes before had occupied that self-same ‘*How do you like it??? he asked. ‘‘You ‘*Lower out!’’ And while the echo on
quality as well as quantity. cell! make a sweet-looking set of lunatics, I can | back ‘‘—er out,’’ the fresh, keen air 0 oy
‘*Tf you don’t shut up, I’ll come in there, ‘‘Well, if this don’t beat the dickens. | tell you. I’d give anything for a mirror, | December month gave way to a hot, me
and soon make you,’’ cried Quinley, in a| What’s the matter, doc?’’ that you could see yourselves in. You can’t|smell—the smell of the pit which ev® x

‘‘That cursed kid!’’ roared Quinley.

passion.
Then a moment Jater he changed his tone

‘Come right along,’’ said Lad. ‘‘Mere we
are, ready to meet all comers, barring
neither sex, size, nor respectability. Come
right in!’’

@ hoped the villain would accept the
invitation, for if he did, lad would see
what virtue there was in the Terrible Touch

to:
‘‘Oh, oh, stop, stop, you young—oh, ah—
would you?—sto-p!’’

“Kid’s been cutting up a little,’ re-
marked Peters.
“*T'll cut him a little!’

up exclaimed

appreciate what beauties you are.’’

None of them answered, but if looks could
kill, Lad would have heen pierced with six
fatal wounds there and then.

With a little extra dash of the Terrible
Touch, he released his grasp of their hands.
As an effect partly of the electrical cur-
rent and partly of their violent exercise the

 

 

Honk, viciously.

in connection with him.
‘‘Will you, though?’’ said Lad, teasingly.

 

men were quite exhausted and staggered to
the wall for support.

selves with outstretched hands from rubbi

sound to break the oppressive silence. '

miner recognizes as readily as a wear
scents a rabbit. pd

The living burden whirled round Hed
round as the heavy three-linked chain ror
off the drum, and the men guided Coe

the slimy walls of the shaft. I-
The sullen drip, drip, drip of water nly
ing through immense distances was the © ip-

 
 

       

 

 

 

    
    
 

            

 
   
        

   

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ascents

ers seldom speak in descending; they chatter
fast enough when they are coming upward,
for then another day’s chances have been

. Safely taken.

Down, and down, and down, until my
heart seemed weighted with the pressure
of the millions of tons of earth above me.
Should we never stop? The perspiration
broke out at every pore. I gasped and sob-
bed, and felt that choke I surely must, when
my feet touched the solid ground once
more. And I staggered from the shaft bot-
tom inward toward the workings.

**Sit here and take time to get your sec-
ond wind,’’ said a burly fellow. ‘‘ You'll
See them send a horse down presently.’’

I began to get both breath and sight as
the men came down in rapid succession.

Presently the roar of the receiving tackle
grew louder than. usual, and I heard the

orse stamp upon the movable platform
Which covered the top of the shaft, Then it
rolled back, and the horse was coming.

hen he hove in sight, he presented a most
Comical appearance. He sat in a huge rope-
Cot, his hind legs tied closely beneath his
Shanks, his head and fore legs pointing up-
Ward, and a canvas bag over his eyes.

Stir he could not, until, in a jiffy, the
Men had faced him round, loosed his cords,

‘and unlaced the huge strands of the net.

® stepped out and cast his beautiful eyes
Yound in snorting surprise; for if you wish
to know the real beauty of a horse’s eye,
you must see it as it shines like a blazing
lamond in the semi-darkness of a coal-pit.
at once volunteered to drive that horse,
but I was told to wait for a space.. They

‘Placed me in charge of an air door—to open

it for the teams, and see that it was strictly
Closed as soon as the teams had gone by.

So passed the first few weeks. Hard by
My solitary station was an old and unused
Working. Boylike, I filled its gloomy spaces
With creatures of my lonesome imaginings,
Until one day I plucked up sufficient courage
0 explore the forsaken waste. I held in my
and a naked light, raised above my head.

had proceeded some distance along the
Cavern, when a crackling sound caused me
to start, and, to my surprise, I saw the roof
Was filled with the blue. flames, floating
along with a wavy motion. I turned to fly
dull,

Oarse roar, followed by a fierce blast of
Mingled flame and air, which threw me on
“418 rocks with a thud, and buried my bleed-
Mg form in dirt and debris. My door was
Only a hundred feet away, and I had to get
to its farther side if I wished to live.

; For though the gas thus fired may race
Tound the mine, it invariably returns to the

_Yery spot where it started, and more deadly

an the imflammable gas was the choke-
amp which always follows it to lull its vic-
Ms into the iron sleep of death. Iarose and
Staggered forward, my bleeding, blistered
ands feeling the way, for; of course, the
“andle had been blown from my grasp.
Omy dismay, I saw the flame returning.

tastinctively, i threw myself down and

Uried my face in the dust. It raced over

4 like a lightning flash, its hot breath. siz-

ing the timber and curling my flannel jer-
®*Y into crispness.
arose a second time, and rushed forward
© the darkness. I struck my head against
ock; the warm blood gushed out and
"ckled down my grimy face. I remem-
e Ted no more. When I awoke I was in my
belittle bed at home, Doctor McKnight
ge ding over me, and my hands and face
athed in white bandages.
had ® firemen, alarmed by the explosion,
of rushed out, to find me within ten feet
My door, and, as they supposed, burned

8

he origin of that explosion still remains
The overseer did not wish to
Wo, How it happened, for my naked light

have sent him to prison. So he

‘Blanced very curiously at me, and I returned

'S looks with interest.
the ter two weeks’ holiday, I came back to
ari Mine, and found myself promoted to
a the identical horse which arrived in
an Mine when I did. The fact of our simul-
ons coming seemed to me to link our
Mies, and | was very glad to be rid of
a frightful isolation as a trapper-boy (a
Ay poner) .
’ that dear old horse! His name was
bar? ’ and no better, truer, or more intel-
test 1 creature ever stretched leather. I pro-
five hat he was more a companion to me for
Ben) “27s than many of my own kind. I
in + More hours in his company than I did
Our at of any other living thing—eight
hung, & day for six daysa week, and for two
ed and sixty weeks.

ay . knew when three o’clock came as well
any man who carried a watch; twice
neevented me from accidentally killing
nce he saved my life by his almost re-
Ye intelligence; and when at last he
felt thawshed by a whirring coal wagon, I

Att at I had lost a friend.
We, [had driven him for three years,
re placed on a route which had a very
An iron pillar, round which
4rge chair, hooked to the wagon, bhin-
heayiy ® too rapid descent of the latter,
Y laden as it was with a couple of
gon coal. Jim always went before the
and stopped at the top of the gradi-

A
feos

Steg
al

0
“he day the rails were wet and slippery,

 

GooDp

and the wagon would not stop. I snatched
at the hook to slip it in the ring behind, but
I missed it, the great mass slid out of my
reach, and I expected to hear it roar down
the hill like an express train, cutting the
horse into fragments.

But, no! I had calculated without Jim.
He knew that his life trembled in the bal-
ance, and while I could scarcely credit my
senses, I saw him plant his strong fore feet
firmly and place his hindquarters against
that wagon, and, to my joy, he held it. To
leap to the chain, and, easing it, gain pur-
chase and hook it, was the work of an in-
stant.

The coupling made, 1 bade him move on,
and the grand little animal allowed the load
to lower on to its guardian balance.

One more story about Jim, and I must
forego him here;
my reminiscences.

He was a spirited, in fact, a blooded
horse, mouse-colored, and fiery to the last
degree at the sight of a whip, not to men-
tion the feeling of it. A harsh word would
send the hot blood racing all over his dis-
tended veins.

At the close of the day, with only one
more journey inward, he would-not pass a
certain spot. I was impatient, and called
hastily to him. But he refused to budge.
As he turned those lustrous eyes pleadingly
round and snorted and pawed, I heard a
crack. It was a jump for life. ‘‘Back!
Back!’’ I cried; and the horse turned and
leaped after me, while where I should have
been had he not halted me, there rolled
down enough of a heap to last a week for
its removal. Somebody declared it came
right down from the roots of the trees, but
that, of course, was a hyperbolical expres-
sion.

I was nearly eighteen years old before I
saw a serious accident. Men had been killed,
sometimes singly, sometimes in couples; but
when the Shut-End Colliery was drowned
with a flood which drained the surface
ponds and brooks along the valley above the
workings, strong men as well as weak and
broken-hearted women felt that the great
and terrible day had come, and that the
hearts of all were tried almost beyond en-
durance.

It is not for me to harrow the feelings of
my readers with descriptions of the scenes
which were daily witnessed. But one central
impression I carried away from that most
melancholy spot was this: That for courage,
heroism, sympathy, and sacrifice, the res-
cuing bands of miners were the peers of any-
thing I ever read in fancy’s highest dreams
of chivalry and war.

A further adventure nearly saved the
reader the trouble of reading these I have
already related.

I had been left with two others until the
last ascent one day, and we.three stood in
our chains and waited. The strain came and
picked us up. But my chain gradually slip-
ped beyond my lower limbs, and while I as-
cended I felt myself lowering into the gulf
beneath. Vainly I grasped at the wet, slip-
pery links—grasped with a convulsive en-
ergy born of the love of life! My two com-
panions clutched me by the shoulders, and
cried aloud with frantic shouts, but the man
at the surface had left his post, and I sped
upward only, as it seemed, to return in
death. Below me there was now two hun-
dred feet of space; my body swung where
my feet should have been; my hands rigidly
wound round the chain where my body
should have been. One great wail of rage
and despair at last echoed to the spot where
the scoundrelly fellow was standing on the
surface.

Alarmed, he ran to the pit mouth. I felt
the motion cease, and then, slowly, agoniz-
ingly slowly, we went back.

“Hold on! It’s only a short distance
now,’’ whispered the gallant fellows who
leaned half way out of their chains to keep
their hold upon me. One last supreme effort
kept me until within ten feet of the bot-
tom. Then I fell like a log. Into the brief
fleeting moment was compressed enough of
suffering and suspense to last one’s lifetime.

My love of books had been to me a nat-
ural heritage. As I grew, it grew. with me.
I began to study Greek in the first mine in
which I worked. I read Carlyle, Emerson,
Tennyson, and Descartes, with many other
masters of prose and poetry, before I was
sixteen. Few days passed between the re-
spective ages of fourteen and twenty-one
when I did not spend from four to S1x hours
per day in reading, writing, translating, and
—must I confess it?—orating, too, and the
latter very often to rocks: and coal fathoms
deep.

Th the spring of 1886 I came to the conclu-
sion that I would seek fresh fields and pas-
tures naw. I remarked to some of my
father’s workmen who stood round, that the
20th day of May would be my last day in a
coal mine. They Jaughed, but I meant it.
And from that date to the present moment I
have never descended a pit.

—___—__ +++. ________

Mother—‘‘ What
child?””,

‘‘Johnnie hurt me.’

‘* How, pray?’’

““T was going to hit him with my fist,

are you crying for,

but I shall never do so in

 

NEws.

1S

 

(QUR

(SpEciaL Norice.—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. }

ne

Stamp (ALBUM.

_*

The early plate numbers of the lc. stamps
are quite common, far more so than their
catalogue price would indicate, and most
dealers have an over-supply of them, while
the early 2c. numbers are quite scarce, and
meet with ready sale at fair prices.

tion discovered their character, and stopped

his bank.
* % * E

grilled issue is that many stamps which
were really grilled received so slight an im-
pression, owing to the worn state of the die,
that it is almost imperceptible. We recently
saw a fine unsevered pair of the 90c., one of
which showed a light grill, while on the
other not the slightest trace could be seen,
even with a powerful glass.
* * * *

The bottom seems to have dropped out of
the 50c. Columbian corner. One party, who
six months ago, was buying all he could find
at from 60 to 75c. each, now offers them in
lots of 1,000 at face value.

All old U. 8. stamps in unused condition
are rapidly advancing in price, and many
are said to be worth more than the current
catalogue prices. The 1875 5c. Taylor has
advanced lately, and unused copies are hard
to find at any price.

* * * *

Among the hardest stamps for amateurs to

lower label are turned under, forming little
balls.
$25, unperforated, and $5, perforated;

scrolls are not turned under. This is the
perforated, 50c.; type 3 is same as type
2, except that the curved lines outside of
labels are broken in the middle. This type
is quite rare, unperforated;
but, perforated, it is common, 15c. Of the
8c , there are two types of the perforated,
the ‘‘outer line’’ variety, which has a
straight line outside of the top and bottom

line is cut away. All the unperforated
stamps are of the outer line variety. There
are also two types of the 5c. In type1 there
are projections at top and bottom to corre-
spond with those at sides; in type 2, these
projections have been cut away.

* * * *

Since the issue of Columbian envelopes was
discontinued, the U. S. Government has not
printed any stamped envelopes of higher
valuethan 5c, While the 1887 issue comprised
10, 30, and 90c. values in various sizes and
on six different colors of paper, at present
only 1, 2, 4 and 5c. envelopes are issued, the
4c. in three sizes, and the 5c. in two, and
on white and amber paper only.

* * * *

M. C., Nashville, Tenn.—The Congo 25c.,
black and orange, is priced at 10c.; the 50c.,
black and green, at 15c. The U.S. 2c. orange
revenue stamp is worth about 10c. per 100.

* + te *

B. D. D., Paulding, O.—There is no pre-
mium on the half-dollar of 1813.

* * ** *

§. J. A., Bessemer, Ala.—The coins you
describe are old Spanish pieces. We think
you had better close bargain with the party
who offered you $180 for them, as any coin
dealer would sell you duplicates for about

$10. ‘ .

* *

W. M. F., St. Johns, N. B.—The stamps
you mention retail at 1c. each. They are
worth about 10c. per 100. There is no pre-
mium on the Nova Scotia half penny or the
Spanish coin with head of Ferdinand VII.
The 1858 quarter-dollar without rays on re-
verse retails at $3.50. There is no premium
on the other coins you mention.

* * * *

C. M., Holdrege, Neb.—Your stamps are
all Turkish. No. 1, is 20 pa., 1875 issue,
price 8c.; No. 2 is 1875 10 pa., 5c.; No. 3 is
1867, unpaid, 2 pi., 35c.; No, 4 is 1875, 10
pa., 5c.; No. 5 is 1875, 1 pi., 3c.; No. 6,
1876, 1 pi., 8c.; No. 7, 1875, 2 pi., 5c. > No.
8, same as No. 5; No, 9, 1875, 10 pa., brown,
12c.; No. 10,

 

as No. 4;/ No. 12, 1875, 20 pa., green, 3c. ;
No. 13, 1884, 1c.; No. 14, 1888, 8c. ; No. 15,
1390, 25c.; No. 16, 1886, 3c.; No. 17, 1884,
lic.:| No. 18, 1884, 5c.; No. 19, 1865, 1 pi.,

when he ducked his head—and I struck the :unpald, Te.; No. 20, unpaid, 1865, 20 pa.,

wall.”’

9c.; No. 21, unpaid, 1865, 2 pi., 10c.; No.

One reason for the variety of the 1870)

commonest type, price, unperforated, 80c. ; |

labels, and the common type, in which this |

1875, 5 pi., 6c.; No. 11, same

 

22, unpaid, 1870, 20 pa., 5c.; No. 23, unpaid,
1869, 20 pa., 5c.; No. 24, unpaid, 1870, 2 pi.,
5c.; | No. 25, unpaid, 1870, 1 pi., 4c.; No.
26, 1869, 1 pi., 25c. The balance are not reg-
ular postage stamps, but newspaper, tax,

| revenues, and official labels.

* * * *
C. F. P., St. Louis, Mo.—We return your
stamps marked as requested.
* * * *
G. R. A., Knoxville, Tenn.—The retail
value of your stamps is about 45c. You
would get 15 to 20c. for them from a stamp

| dealer.

* * Eo

*
L. D., Harlem.— The U. S. interior

| stamps, unused are priced: I1c., 25c.; 24c.,

Some very good counterfeits of the rare |
first issue Nova Scotia stamps have been cir- |
| culated round New York lately.
bought seventeen at once, but on examina- |

One dealer |

50c.; 15c., 35c.; the Ic., 1869, is priced 75c.,
unused; the le., 1857, used, sells at 10c.;
the 5c., at $2.25; the 12c., at 75c., and
the 24c., at $3.50. The Great Britain

| 10d. 1865, is rare only on account of the

payment on the check before presented at |

watermark; heraldic emblems, in the paper.
The same stamp printed on paper with
watermark spray of rose, sells for 60c. There
are several different varieties of 3d. green

{and 8d. yellow New South Wales, and we
| should have to see them to give their value;

 

distinguish are the different types of the |
U.S. 1851-60 issue. ‘There are three types of |
the le.; type 1 has a curved line outside |
the labels with ‘‘U. 8. Postage,’’ and ‘‘One |
Cent,’’? the ends of the scrolls below the |

This type is very rare, and sells for |

type 2 is same as type 1, except that |

price, $15; |

 

| but we should judge they are quite valuable.

* * x *
B. B., Rochester, N. Y.—There is no pre-
mium on the dime of 1856.

tm
[This Story will not be Published in Book-Form.}

GAY DASHLEIGH IN GUBA:

OR,

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. Back numbers can be obtained of all News
Agents.)

CHAPTER XIX.

HOW PROFESSOR GASSE

EARTH.

»UMPING Moses! was that an earth-
* quake, or has the blooming world come
>/\ to an untimely end?’’
ceX* Gay painfully regained his feet.
The terrific shock of the explosion had sent
him and his companions headlong to the
ground, where they laid helpless in the
midst of a perfect rain of twisted timbers,
iron bolts and other debris.
‘‘Ob! oh-h! Murder! Who struck me with
an ax?’’ whimpered Jack, from a rocky spot
under a tree, where he had been hurled.

RETURNED TO

  

‘“‘Oh, my head! It’s cracked in eleven
places!’
‘“Mum-mum-mum-mum,’’ came feebly

from Ko-ko. He subsided without finishing
his remark, and glanced eros e at Gay.

The latter was compelled to laugh at the
Jap’s plight. He had been tossed bodily into
the centre of a prickly bush, from which
only his quaint, wrinkled face was visible.

After much tugging and lamentations, Gay
and Jack succeeded in rescuing him, then
all turned their attention to the bridge. The
massive structure was a complete ruin. Only
a few stone piers and several shattered gir-
ders marked the spot where it had spanned
the ravine.

The sight of a cruelly mangled body near
one of the abutments suddenly recalled the
professor to Gay’s memory.

‘‘Great heavens! where is Gasse?’’ he ex-

, claimed, running to the edge of the ravine.

Jack and Ko-ko exchanged glances of hor-

ror, and instantly followed him. The unfor-
|tunate teacher of chemistry was nowhere

 

visible. \

‘*He—he was standing upon a stringpiece
when the explosion occurred,’’ whispered
Dunham, blankly. ‘‘He couldn’t have
been——’’

‘*Don’t say it, Jack,’’ interrupted Gay,
huskily. °‘It can’t be possible that he was
blown up. Poor old Gasse!’’

‘He v-v-very g-good mum-man,’’ sniveled
Ko-ko, wiping his eyes. ‘‘Mum-me likee
make f-f-fun of him, but me t-t-thinkee
plenty 1-l-lot of him.’’ :

‘*Confound it, if he’s dead, it’s all my
fault,’’ said Gay, remorsefully. ‘‘I brought
him down here, and now he’s gone up the
spout.’’ a a

‘“‘T am so sorry I ever teased him,’’ said
Jack, in the same tone. ‘‘Poor, dear old
gentleman; he had a good heart, and he
liked us as he would two sons. I’ll never be
disrespectful to an old man again.”’

‘‘And I used to torment him, also,’’ re-
plied Gay, miserably. ‘‘I regret all the
tricks I played on him.”’

‘*And mum-mum-me sold him gin f-f-for
Japanese whisky,’’ stuttered Ko-ko.

‘You didn’t fool him, though,’’ groaned
Jack. ‘‘He knew a thing or two about wet
goods.”’

**T say, Jack!’

“Yes, Gay.”’

‘*T wonder where—where his body is?’

‘‘Goodness knows. They say that.a dyna-
mite explosion scatters the remains throu
the surrounding country. Shall we look???
   

L&

 

GOooD NEWS.

 

‘*Yes,’’ sighed Gay, leading the way down
the ravine.

They found five or six men—members of
the explosive corps—lying stunned and in-
jured at the bottom. A careful search was
made for the unfortunate professor, but not
the slightest trace of him .could be discoy-
ered,

‘*He’s scattered,’? whispered Jack, striv-
ing hard to keep back the tears. ‘* Well find
him in pieces, by-and-by., I remember a case
in Pennsylvania——’’

‘*Keep your harrowing recollections until
some other time,’’ interrupted Gay, sadly.

They returned to the upper’ edge of the
ravine just as a number of soldiers and
officers flocked up from the insurgent camp.
Gay was on the point of explaining the mat-
ter to one of them, when a feeble cry came
to his ears, apparently from the sky.

Glancing overhead, he saw what seemed
to be an arm waving from the upper
branches of a thickly foliaged ceiba tree.
While all were gazing in amazement, a
plaintive voice was heard.

‘‘Dashleigh, if you love me, lend mea
coat or trousers,’’ it said; ‘‘I’m up this
confounded tree without a stitch to my
back.’’

A great shout of laughter came from the
assembled crowd. Gay seized Jack around
the waist, and danced from the very ex-
uberance of joy, while Ko-ko hopped up and
down like a gigantic toad.

‘*Ha! ha! ha! it’s the professor himself.
Hurrah! he’s still alive and. kicking,”’
laughed the young leader. ‘‘I say, Mr.
Gasse, how in the duse did you get up
there?’?’ :

‘‘T was blown up,’’ was the terse reply.
‘*But this is no laughing matter. My
whiskers are gone, and I’m bruised from
head to foot. Dashleigh?’’

Ves, sir.**

‘‘Just kick that ugly Jap for me, will
you? It is an absolute disrespect, his chuck-
ling at me in that manner.’’

‘All right, I’il attend to him. But come
down, and let us congratulate you on your
marvelous escape.’’

**¥ can’t. Didn’t I tell you that I am not
in a fit state to appear before gentlemen,’’
came complainingly from the tree. ‘‘I am
absolutely stripped, with the exception of

ar
‘*Jack, take these men, and withdraw for
a moment,’’ laughed Gay. ‘‘We can’t per-
mit the poor man to roost up there like a
turkey. Ko-ko, you grinning imp, hustle
back to camp and get some clothes. Never
mind the fit—anytbing will do for the pres-
ent.

Presently the professor gingerly descended

the tree, and garbed himself anew. He
presented a comical spectacle, with his
singed beard and mottled face. Clad in a

pair of calico trousers and a torn shirt, he
stalked majestically back to camp.

Gay and Jack were too honestly delighted
at the fortunate outcome of the accident to
chaff the professor. Despite his eccentrici-
ties, he was a kind-hearted, lovable man,
and they liked him exceedingly.

Gay reported to General Gomez for final
instructions during the afternoon. At his
eet request, he was permitted to take

o-ko with him on his journey to Havana,

Before leaving camp, he drew Jack aside,
and held a brief, but important, conversation
with him.

‘*This is a dangerous trip, old boy!’’ he
said, ‘‘and I might as’well arrange things
before I go. If anything should happen to
me——

‘*Which God forbid!’’ interrupted Dun-
bam, softly.

‘*Thanks. 1f I should meet that fate gen-
erally hovering over a soldier, I want you
to look after Bessie for me. Get her safely
out of the country, and to New York, with-
out delay. In fact, I wish you would ask
General Gomez to -let you take a squad of
men and search for the dear girlat once. My
mind will be easy if I know that something
is being done to rescue her from the clutches
of that confounded villain, Munson Fer-
ris.

‘*Pll do it, Gay. I’ll go alone if the com-
mander-in-chief refuses to let me have, some
men. Don’t worry; you can rely on me.’?’

‘‘T know it. Now 1 must be off. Ko-ko
and I have a tough trip before us, Good-by,
old fellow !’’

He grasped Jack’s honest hand, then
mounted his horse, and rode from camp
amid the farewell cheers of Professor Gasse
ani a number of the insurgents. He glanced
back once, then plunged into the woods on
wee journey to the Spanish strong-

old.

CHAPTER XX.

WHAT BEFEL GAY AND KO-KO ON THEIR
JOURNEY.

FTER a steady ride of four hours
through an open country dotted with
burned canefields, a small village on
the banks of a muddy, tortuous river

was reached. As no signs of Spanish sol-
diers had been encountered, Gay rode boldly
through the outskirts toward the open
plaza always found in semi-tropical towns.
While cantering along the narrow street,
Ko-ko gave a shout, and rapidly turned
down a cross thoroughfare. When Gay

 

reached the corner, he saw the Jap in wild
pursuit of a figure clad in linen shirt and
flowing trousers. A long queue streaming
in the wind from the fugitive’s head pro-
claimed his identity. It was a Chinaman.

‘‘What under the sun is Ko-ko up to?’’
pondered Gay, compelled to laugh at the
spectacle. He whistled shrilly, and called
out af the top of his voice: ‘‘Come back
here, you rascal. Come back, and leave that
man alone, or I’ll send you to camp.”’

At that moment the Jap caught up with
his victim. Reaching over, he whirled his
sword about the Celestial’s head, barely es-
caping his nose and ears at each stroke.

The Chinaman fell on his knees in the
road, and begged for mercy in a strident
voice. With one last wild swoop, Ko-ko
severed the streaming pigtail, and then rode
proudly back to where Gay awaited him,

‘*You blood-thirsty wretch!’’ exclaimed
his master. ‘‘What do you mean by tearing
off in pursuit of inoffensive people like that?
Can’t you find enough enemies in this island
without attacking a non-combatant? I have
a good mind to march you back to the pro-
fessor and Jack.’’

‘*D-d-don’t you, Mum-mum-master Dash-
leigh,’’ pleaded the Jap, hanging his head.
‘*] no h-h-hurt him Chinaman, I. s-s-scare
him—that’s all. They no g-good. I make
a v-v-vow long time that I k-k-kill twenty-
five before 1 die. I got t-t-ten yet.’’

‘*You are a stranger tothe truth, Ko-ko,”’
said Gay, severely, ‘‘You’ve got a devil in
youthat’s all. Now, no more of that work.
Look at the people you have attracted. If
the Spanish were——’’

He stopped short, and stared blankly at a
youth who had just stepped fiom the door-
way of a ‘‘fonda,’’ or Cuban groggery.

It was Willis Allibone,

He was dressed in a semi-military uni-
form, and bore himself with a brave swag-
ger. He was smoking a huge cigar, and
seemed under the influence of liquor. Gay
wheeled his horse with the intention of
dodging behind the corner, but at that mo-
ment Allibone caught sight of him.

He gaped in surprise for a second; then,
with a lusty shout for help, he drew his
sword, and ran down the street. A couple
of Spanish officers appeared at the door,
and instantly followed him.

‘‘Out of this, Ko-ko,’’ exclaimed Gay.
‘*Ride for your life.”

Using his spurs, he galloped off, with the
Jap a close second. Before they had gonea
dozen yards, they found themselves face to
face with a squad of soldiers, who had sud
denly turned into the narrow way.

In a twinkling the fugitives were sur-
rounded, and speedily overpowered. Pres-
ently Allibone—his rather coarse fate ex-
pressive of the liveliest triumph—dashed up.

‘‘Oh, ho! we have caught you at last,
Dashleigh,’’ he chuckled. ‘‘This is simply
great. I[ little thought, when I reached this
town to-day, that I would have the honor of
entertaining such a distinguished guest.’’

‘*You don’t say,’’ drawled Gay, coolly.
‘What a galiant fellow you are when there
isn’t any danger. You are pleasod to enter-
tain me while I am tied hand and foot, and
surrounded by your soldiers; but I guess the
entertaining would be the reverse if I was
free.’

‘*T’m not afraid of you, confound you,’’
retorted Willis, hotly. ‘‘For two pins, 1’d
release you and give you a sword.’’

‘*Indeed? Can’t some of you gentlemen
furnish him with the necessary pins?’ re-
plied Gay, addressing his captors.

A low laugh came from the officers who
had followed Allibone. The sound of it sent

|}a wave of blood to the youth’s cheeks, and

he bent over the prisoner as if with the in-
tention of striking him. He changed his
mind, however, and roughly ordered the
soldiers to convey the captives to the plaza.

‘*We’ll examine them, and probably hold
an impromptu hanging bee,’’ hesaid, grimly.

‘*T don’t think you will,’’ said Gay, care-
lessly.

“ls that so? What voice have you in the
matter??? ’

‘‘[ guess [am one of the principals in
this affair.”’

‘You are a miserable rebel,’’

‘*Not now; I was a rebel yesterday.’

‘*What do you mean?’’

Gay laughed, and glanced quizzically at
the group surrounding him.

‘*l’ve reformed,’’ he replied, whimsically.
‘‘This scooting about the country, being
potted by Spaniards, is not what it is
cracked up to be. Ko-ko and I have resolved
to transfer our allegiance to Spain. We are
on our way to Havana for that purpose.’’

Willis Allibone looked incredulous,

‘‘Do you expect me to believe that rot?’’
he asked, scornfully.

‘*You can do as you please about that.
It’s the truth, nevertheless. ’’

‘‘If you are really on your way to Havana
it is for the purpose of acting as a spy.
know you, Dashleigh. You are not the one
to change his sentiments so speedily.”’

‘‘Thanks for the compliment,’? drawled
Gay. ‘‘So you don’t believe me, eh? Why
don’t you ask Ko-ko?’’

you up in anything,’’ growled Willis, inso-
lently eying the Jap.
Ko-ko’s quaint little face became wrinkled

 

 

with rage. His narrow optics contracted,
and he sputtered, excitedly :

‘“‘Ump! that yellow nigger would back ;

 

‘*Mum-mum-muim !——’?

‘“‘That’s right keep mum,’’ laughed Alli-
bone.

‘*Me u-n-no keep mum,”’ shrieked Ko-ko.
‘* You thinkee you v-v-ver’ smart. You n-no
good. Mum-my master lick y-y-you like
s-sixty. You b-big coward. You worse than
Chinaman. You—you——’’

His tirade was brought to a sudden end by
Willis, who leaned over, and struck. him
brutally in the mouth with the hilt of his
sword. Ata sign from the Spanish officers,
the soldiers led the prisoners to the centre
of the plaza.

One of the Spaniards, rather a fine-look-
ing man, with long, sweeping mustache, be-
gan to question Gay in the Castilian lan-
guage.

‘* You say it is your intention to surrender
yourself??? he asked, carelessly rolling a
cigarette.

‘*No, not surrender,’’ replied the young
leadsr. ‘‘I have left the insurgents; I intend
to offer my services, and possibly some
money to General Campos.’’

‘*Where are your friends, then?’’

‘*That’s right,’? spoke up Allibone.
‘‘Where is Jack Dunham, and that fool,
Gasse?’’

‘*You didnot call the professor that when
he found you deficient in chemistry,’’ re-
torted Gay, meaningly. ‘‘A fool, eh? “He
knows more in one minute than you would
in a thousand years. You wish to know
where Jack is? He’s out scouting for that
precious chum of yours, Munson Ferris.
And he’ll catch him, too.”?

‘*Perhaps. Ha! ha! ha! we got your girl,
eh? My, oh, my! It was just nuts to us
when we.rode up to that plantation, and
found sweet Bessie Winsome there. She’sa
dear girl, and I’m really growing fond of
her. If it wasn’t for the fact that she is a
valuable subject for a ripping good ransom,
1’?d make love to her,.”’

Gay’s face paled ominously, but he held
his tongue. He fully realized the uselessness
of replying to Allibone’s irritating words,
but he registered a mental resolution to
make that youth regret them at some future
time.

Willis and the Spanish officers walked
aside and held a brief whispered conversa-
tion. At its conclusion the former rejoined
Gay, with a triumphant expression upon his
face.

‘*We have concluded that you are lying,
Dashleigh,’’ hesaid, witha satisfied chuckle.
‘*Your announcement that you are on your
way to offer your services to General Cam-
pos is a fake, pure and simple.

‘*My companions wanted to shoot you off-
hand, but I know a thing or two,’’ he
added, brutally. ‘‘Dead, you wouldn’t be
worth a centayo, but alive, you are valua-
ble, I intend to finger some of your money
before many moons, and don’t you forget
1G

‘‘That remains to be seen,’’ replied Gay.
‘‘It is my private opinion you will be ina
mighty warm spot before you touch a dollar
of my wealth.”’

‘*Don’t be too sure. I guess you’ll pony
up a cool hundred thousand before you see
harm come to sweet Bessie. How does that
strike you, eh?”’

‘*You are a confounded villain,’’ retorted
Gay, hotly. ‘I tell you what I will do. I'll
write you a check for double that amount,
if you remove this rope from my hands and
give me a sword.”’

are to-day,’’ grinned Allibone, strolling
off.

Several soldiers approached, and roughly
conveyed the prisoners to a_ dilapidated
building on the southern edge of the plaza,
which was evidently doing duty as a tem-
porary jail.

The, room into which they were thrust
seemed quite strong enough to hold any-
body unsupplied with modern housebreaking
implements. The door was thick, and well
bolted, the window, or grating, high and
heavily barred, yet not too high to be
reached with some little exertion.

Immediately after the soldiers had with-
drawn, Gay turned hastily to Ko-ko, and
asked, in a whispsr:

‘*Are your teeth sharp? Do you think you
could loosen this knot in the rope binding
my arms?’’

‘*B-b-bet your 1-life, mum-mum-master.
Me eat it off |-lslike sixty,’’ promptly replied
the Jap. ‘‘Hulla!  y-y-you. thinkee we
g-g-get plenty o-out?”’

“Sh-h-h! don’t shout like that,’? warned
the young leader, ‘‘ While there’s life there’s
hope, you know, Fire away now, and see
what you can do.’’

Ko-ko set to work with such vim that he
speedily had the knot untied. His strong
teeth moved industriously, and before long
Gay had the extreme satisfaction of moving
about the cell in perfect freedom. *

CHAPTER XXI.
HOW THE PRISONERS BROKE JAIL.

O far so good,’’ he exclaimed, rubbing
his hands in glee. ‘‘Ko-ko, they have
mighty slippery customers to deal
with. If they don’t watch their cage,

the birds will fly away.’’ —

‘‘Mum-me like to g-g-get square with

A A

 

  

t-t-that Allibone plenty much,’’ vindictively
replied the Jap. ‘‘He c-c-call me yellow

  

 

  

n-n-nigger. Mum-me cut him n-n-neck off
bimeby.’’

Gay directed his companion to give him a
back, and by that means managed to reach
the little window. Gripping the bars, he
looked out. Below him was a narrow and
apparently little-frequented street, evidently
leading from the plaza.

The place was well-guarded, and from the
number of soldiers in view, was probably
the headquarters of a part of the Spanish
forces. To the young leader the chances of
escaping appeared remote.

If he and Ku-ko should succeed in leaving
the jail by either the door or window they
would be compelled to run the gantlet of a
score of sentries. After another brief survey,
Gay dropped to the floor.

‘*It isn’t very encouraging,’’ he said,
thoughtfully. ‘*That iron grating is in to
stay, and we couldn’t remove it without the
free use of a file, which we haven’t got, you
know. As for the door—there’s half a dozen
ugly troopers camping in sight of it this
blessed minute, ’’

‘* Allibone no 1-l-let you go without y-y-you
give plenty m-m-money.’’

‘*T?ll exhaust every Other chance before I
oblige the rascal,’’ replied Gay, sturdily-
‘*T don’t mind the filthy lucre, but I de-
cidedly object to seeing him triumph. No,
we'll try to escape.’’

Presently a rattling at the door gave
warning that some one was on the point of
entering. Allibone’s voice was heard roughly
bidding the soldiers stand on guard.

‘‘Quick! arrange your fastening, and
crouch in that corner,’’ whispered Gay, at
the same time deftly twisting the rope
around his own wrists. He had scarcely
concluded the task when the massive wooden
portal opened, and Willis lounged in, followed
by a half-cast negro, bearing a jug of water
and some bread and plantains.

At sight of the food Gay started appre-
hensively. It meant instant discovery. The
jailor would certainly attempt to remove
their lashings during the meal.

he situation was desperate, and required
a desperate remedy.

The young leader glanced furtively at
Ko-ko. The Jap’s «shrewd, twinkling ey@
seemed to indicate that he realized their
danger. He nodded his head very slightly
as if to signal that he was ready for any-
thing.

Out through the open door Gay caught 4
glimpse of several Spanish troopers lolling
against the corner of a rude fence surround-
ing a public weil. Just beyond them, being
held by a native, was a fine black horsé,
which Gay instantly recognized as the aul-
mal Allibone had ridden during the memor
able fight on the Plantation of the Black
Ghost.

A daring scheme flashed into the lad’s
brain, but there was no sign of it in thé
look of indifference he turned upon All-
bone.

‘‘Well, how do you like your quarters?”
gayly asked that promising youth, as
swaggered in with clanking scabbard:
‘“‘They are not as good as you enjoyed #
that beastly hole, Ebb Tide Academy, 4!
they???

‘*T had more freedom there,’’ grimly ©
plied Gay. ‘‘But this place is well enough
for a few hours.’’ : I

‘*That is about the limit of your stay;
guess. Would you like to know what we 1”
tend to do with you?’’ ale

‘‘T would like to ascertain what you thi?
you will do with us,’’ retorted the youne
leader, meaningly.

‘‘Well, to-night, after, we hear from
Colonel Muerto, we’ll run you down
certain unfrequented port near Cienfueger
There’s a small island off the coast whit
will make a fine prison for you until yor
come to terms, lf Munson pulls through 4,
right, you’ll have agreeable company there»

Gay heard the latter piece of news wae
exceeding joy. He felt convinced that AY’
bone was speaking the truth. It was the fit t
clew to Bessie’s whereabouts, and one ut
would prove.of ‘great assistance in rescull
her, The mere fact that Willis had divulers
the intelligence was proof that he did?
anticipate an attempt at escape. ee

“Oh, you will bitterly regret your
tongue before you are many momet
older,’’ he muttered, between his set tet ne

He narrowly watched the native place jed
food upon the floor, then his nerves tiné
as Allibone strode in his direction.

‘*T am going to release you while yo
Dashleigh,’’ he said, gruffly ; then he &

eat,
deds

with a sneer: ple
‘*T can’t afford to starve such a valun
goose, you know. I want a golden ef

pretty badly. I need it in my business:
free you one at a time, and——’’ pe
He never completed the sentence. 4® ye"
leaned over to grasp Gay’s bonds, be ace
ceived a stunning blow squarely in the went
from that youth’s clinched fists. He
down like a shot, and lay in a crumP
heap upon the hard-flagged floor. dle:
In the meantime Kore had not bee® rik
Gay had hardly raised his hand to a a
Allibone when, with a bound like that tbe
tiger, the agile little Jap leaped up”
astounded native. of #
There was a rending noise, the sound fol’
crunching blow, and down went the "gay
tunate negro without a whimper. it
sprang to the door, and hastily closed

y

   
   

 

  

  
  

 

  

2 ae

 
   
   
    
   

 

   

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GooDpD

        

NEW S.

£45

 

‘Strip the native of his outer clothing,’’
he cried, eagerly, ‘‘and disguise yourself as
best you can. We have a fighting chance to
€scape. There’s a big black horse in front of
the door; we’ll try to get away in that
Manner.’’

While speaking, he hurriedly removed
Allibone’s jacket and cap, and donned then.

t was with a feeling of the utmost satisfac-
fion that he cucksd the fallen youth’s reyol-
Vers into his own belt, and grasped his
Sword,

By that time Ko-ko had appropriated the
hegro’s costume. He grinned gleefully as his
fingers closed around the handle of a keen-
edged machete.

_“*C-c-can mum-me settle Allibone, Mum-
Master Dashleigh?’’ he asked, softly. ‘‘J-just
ie, ,°c-cut where him n-neck is, t-that’s

*‘Don’t be a savage,’’ rebuked Gay. ‘‘It’s
al right to get the best of an enemy by fair
Play, but not in cold blood like that,’’

0-ko gazed lingeringly at Willis’ up-
turned face, and as he passed him contrived
mee the prostrate youth a sly kick in the

S.

**Now, be ready,’’ whispered the young
leader, ‘*and when | open the door saunter
forth with that jug and platter as if you had

I day to doit in. If the soldiers look our

Way, just duck your head and edge toward
the horse. Come.”

hi ay passed out with a swagger, clinking
US sword in its scabbard. The afternoon sun

&med down into the open plaza with a

Sod of brilliancy. The murmuring of in-

Sects filled the air, and over in one corner of
18 open, a flock of lean buzzards disputed
Oisily over a piece of carrion. Coming from
“@ semi-gloom of the interior, it was some
*’conds before the disguised fugitives could
8, When sight finally returned, Gay in-
Stantly noticed that he and Ko-ko were _ be-
Mg scrutinized by a party of soldiers a dozen
Yards from the jail.
Omething in their bearings warned him
&t it would be well to carry out the rest

he programme as soon as possible, With a
rreless swagger, he turned to walk to where
® had previously seen the black horse.

he animal was gone!

(TO BE CONTINUED. )
a

OUR B

AIL
qdQuestions on subjects of general Interest only are
Bone With in the ‘‘Mail Bag.”” Medical or legal ques-
Ween ct answered. Goop NEWS goes to press two
ore Sin advance of date of publication, and there-
alte answers cannot appear until two or three weeks
thise We receive them. Communications intendéd for
Be, column should be addressed Goop News ‘Mail
88,” P.O, Box 2734, New York City.

feax\

‘age V., Burke, Idaho.—l. The application of steam
th, & moving power is claimed by various nations, but
i rst extensive employmentof it, and most of the
Worn ements made upon the steam engine, the

td indisputably owes to the English and Ameri-
/ 2. Bronze is made of copper, tin, zinc, and
8. The most eminent of painters was named
He was born at Urbino, Italy,in 1483, and
at Rome, in 1520. 4. The nameless story is fic-
& Dp 5. The tirst of August, 1835, fellon Saturday.
States ¢° are many drummer boys in the United
Writ Army under twenty-one years of age. 7. Your
Hg is good.

for ae. M., Jonesboro, Ark.—An excellent solution
of 4 Ckel-plating consists of three-quarters ofa pound
°uble sulphate of nickel and ammonia to each
loth °° water used. Inclose the sulphate in cheese-
Vat ags and suspend the latter in the top part ofa
igo, 120Uut three parts full of water until the sulphate
™Mpletely dissolved. It will be ready for using
Ough). DAS been stirred well for the purpose of thor-
foy Ymixing. All that is requisite is a thin coating
Gaga Ur bicycle handles, for nickel is very hard in-
4nd will stand a great deal of friction.
\ doth {> W,, Plainfield, N.J.—To make fire-proof paper
’Stron & more is necessary than to dip the paperin a
ry if, Solution of alum water, and when thoroughly
Wires i resist the action of flame. Some paper re-
Up at 0 imbibe more of the solution than it will take
Peated Single immersion, and the process must be re-
Until it becomes thoroughly saturated.

have? Hail, Baltimore, Md.—1. Yes, we, expect to
Hioks* Story of summer sports, 2. Both Harvey
Goo and Alfred Armitage write exclusively for
i Yo Ews, 3. We intend to doso very shortly.
ig the jy,.vtiting is excellent. 5. The second specimen
erage in our opinion. 6. You are muchabove the

Ro
1, oy Berkeley and Nick Carter, New York city.—
uri yg Pall have all three of the stories you desire

.

exe ® the summer. ‘The railroad story will be the
Son tren’ and rattling good it is, too. 2. W. B. Law-

Bun “The Young Duck Hunters,’ which was
1 No. 19 and ended in No, 29.

Uited 2 Detroit, Mich.—You are right. The

v

tig b ates contains a much larger number of for-

Wong Orn residents than any other country in the

Mion 1€ number in the United States is over nine

Mas ont: While France, the next country on the list,

4. p Y about a million.

ide - S., Guthrie, Okla.—1. The best record of a

» 1895 picyele was made at Waltham, Mass., Sept.

e ~ Y Butler and McDuffee. ‘The distance was

@ th td the time 1 minute, 513-5 seconds. 2. Any
Off Smost convenient. 3. Never take a lady’s

er her yours.

Mf,

rots in G., Peoria, Ill.—Over three-eighths of the
ta tin, . the English language are derived from the
quth fret one-fourth from the French, about one-
Ne, “PM the Saxon, and a little less from the
yl. he indebtedness to other languages is small.

ews “i Buffalo, N. Y.—M. Quad wrote for Goop
Site Tn edmother's Dream,” ‘An Evening with
Wertia,» Ortals,” “Wildcat Jim,” “Sentenced to
pupae “About Newspaper Reporters.” They
No Ished in the first two yolumes.
Nite,» Moline, Il.—1. You will find the list of
1's. In the bicycle contest in No. 314 of Goop
tly in The average height of a boy 15 years old is
Nches, 3. We have no stamp catalogues for
Ur writing is fair.
B., Orange, Texas.—l. The banjo strings ,
“nloosened when the instrument is not in

 

be

'
use. 2. The guns have not proved a failure. They

have not had a complete trialas yet, 38. Your cou-

pons have been received.

BR. C, D,, Clinton, Mo,—The story you mention isa
reprint. It was written longago. William Murray
Graydon writes for no other publication but Goop
News, and he is under contract to write solely for us
fora number of years.

T. H., Sanford, Maine.—1. Your coupons arrived
safely. 2. Should several send what the judges con-
sider the best title for the nameless story, the one
earliest mailed will receive the prize.

Gay Dashleigh, Stillwater, Minn.—1. The population
of Cuba, according to the last census, was 1,521,684.
2, The description of places in ‘‘Gay Dashleigh in
Cuba” is correct in every particular.

J. H., Philadelphia, Pa.—l. There is no legislative
assembly there.
2. Mr. Parks will answer this question in his depart-
ment ‘‘How To Do Things.”

0. C. L., St. Louis, Mo.—It would be impossible for
us to hunt up a firm in New York to do the work you
desire. Surely you can have it done in St. Louis.

Ko-Ko., Brattleboro, Vt.—The largest city in the
world is London, the second, Paris, and the third,
New York. Chicago stands ninth in the list.

Cc. D. N., Germantown, Pa.—The cheer
University of Pennsylvania is ‘‘Hoo-rah!
Hoo-rah! Penn-syl-va-ni-a!”’

IL. EF. M., Philadelphia, Pa.—There is no liquid that
will soften the bones of the human body. Abandon
all such absurd ideas.

H. H. H,, Tronton, Ohio.—The Secretary of State
under President Arthur was F. T. Frelinghuysen, of
New Jersey.

Night Reader, San Rafael, Cal.—We have handed
your postal to Mr. Parks who will probably answer it
in due time.

Jack Tar, Portsmouth, N. H.—There is no question
at all but that Great Britain has the finest nayy in
the world.

of the
Hoo-rah!

Roger Berkeley, Jacksonville, Fla.—The term
“hand,” used in measuring. horses, means four |
inches.

B. G., Butte, Mont.—You are right. There is more
silver produced in the United States than there is
gold ‘

D. J. P., Fernandina, Fla.—John H. Whitson is at
present jengaged on another story for Goop NrEws.

P. P. W., Carthage, Mo.—There are nearly ten
thousand actors and actresses in the United States.

D. C. L., Baltimore, Md.—Yale is the champion in
the Intercollegiate Foot-ball Association,

M. H., Highland, Ill.—You are excellently propor-
tioned in every way.

[Several communications left over to be answered next
week.)
——__~»— oe __—___

AMON

Goon News ‘Guuss.

{SPECIAL NOvTICE.—This column is for GOOD
NEWS Clubs only. No notices will be inserted
excepting such as are genuine GOOD NEWs Club
notices, aud nothing in the shape of an advertise-
ment will be allowed. Every club notice should
have the names of the president and secretary of
the club attached. For information eoncerning
GoopD NEWS Club Badge and Electrotypes see ad-
vertisement on last page. |

—~*

OUR CLUB CONTEST.

List of Prize Winners.

 

 

 

The selection of the prize winners in this contest
has been exceedingly difficult. The notices sent in by
the various secretaries in response to our invitation
are all so cleverly written that to name the three best
is an almost impossible task. It is very gratifying to
be able to say that for attractiveness in style, excel-
lence in grammer and rhetoric, and consciseness the
notices by the following named Goop News club
secretaries can hardly be surpassed. After due con-
sideration the prizes have been awarded as follows,:

FIRST PRIZE.
. (Complete outfit of club buttons.)

Goop NerEws Mailers’ Association; Clinton, Mo.
Homer H. Martin, secretary. For notice published
in No. 3138 Goop NEws.

SECOND PRIZE.
(Club badges for officers.)

Goop NEws Fidelity Corresponding Club, Sioux
City, Iowa. EK. F. Molen, secretary. For notice pub-
lished in No. 814 Goop NEws.

THIRD PRIZE.
(Goop News club electrotype.)

Golden Gate Goop News Club, San Francisco, Cal.
Geo. A. Dolan, secretary. For notice published in
No. 312 Goop News.

-

ee
CLUB CHAT,
Fred Mills, Box 26, Morgan, Pa., wishes to receive
sample copies of amateur papers with view to sub-
scribing for same.

CLUB NOTICES.
No! no! we don’t give a solid gold watch or a

bicycle to each one joining. Now just listen awhile |

and see what we do for members. The first ten join-
ing will be admitted free; and all will receive the fol-
lowing large package, six all different Italian postage
stamps, and twenty-five all different foreign stamps,
also receipt for making a liquid ink eraser, how to
make photographic toning solution, how to make
photographic sensitive printing paper, how to make
a photographic developer, how to make a storage
battery, how to electrotype, how to silver-plate, how
to make black ink, gold painting by immersion, and a
few others, with a large package of reading matter.
Here’s a good chance to make money selling copies of
receipts or the artiole itself. This is the Goop News
Science Club talking. Well! photographers, elec-
tricians, chemists, or the stamp collectors, this is
your club! Photographers may exchange photo-
graphs; electricians, ideas; chemists, receipts; stamp
collectors, stamps. Every one corresponds, and we
are ready to tell how to make or do anything in the
line or give advice. You hear from us every week.
All are invited to join. Initiation fee, 15 cents; dues,
6 cents a month; join now before the fee is doubled.
M. Blexander, president; B. W. Langsdale, secretary,
1212 Tracy avenue, Kansas City, Mo.
Ha! Ha! Ha!
Cal—i—for—nia !
Golden Gate G. N. C., *
Zip! Boom! Ab!

To be or not to be. There may be a question as to
the advantage of being a bee, but there is no question
that of all the best places to be, the best one is to be @
member of the Golden Gate Goop News Club of
San Francisco, Cal.

tion that the Golden Gate is the leading club in the

7:

 

The island is under Spanish ruie, |

And an overwhelming majority ;
of the readers of GooD News bear us out in the asser- |

| West. Any one can strike a match but you cannot
always strike a club with such a large list of foreign
members aS we have. Every club has its initiation
fee, ours is but 10 cents; no dues. When you arein the
dark in regard to joining a good club, remember
there is nothing like this up-to-date Western club.
We will not promise the performance of miracles for
the sake of securing members. But we will promise
tosend to every one joining our large and extensive
list of members, card of membership, etc. Remem-
ber that we have members in Europe, Asia, and
darkest Africa, North and South America, Borneo,
West Indies, and in fact everywhere. Some things
go without saying. When said they go faster. Just
| sitdown and think, you don’t need a jimmy nor a
dark lantern to open the eyes of the public. Every-
| body knows the Golden Gate Goop NEws Club, so if
| you are on the fence, ask your friends, and ten to one
they advise you to join us. For full particulars kindly
| inclose stamp, and address George A. Dolan, secre-
tary, 731 Harrison street, San Francisco, Cal.
“« Be a freeman not a slave,

Be a Christian not a knave.

Work and battle for the right,

And be @ Mystic Circle Knight.”

When you join the Goop NrEws Mystic Circle
Knights you will join one of the best young people’s
societies in America, a society that had a reputation
for honesty and fair dealing, and one which has never
| yet failed to fulfill any promise made to its members.
The Mystic Circle Knights is a regular secret society
for boys and girls; it has its grips, passwords, signs,
etc., and subordinate circles are being organized all
} over the land. Every member gets a handsome cir-
tificate of membership suitable for framing, reading
matter, all the secret work of the Circle, list of mem-
bers, the official paper, free, and numerous other
things. The initiation fee is 50 cents, and the dues
25 cents a quarter. Full particulars sent on applica-
tion.
city where six charter members can be
Organizers write for terms. Address all communi-
cations to C. D. Wallace, supreme secretary; Clinton,
Mo,

 

| tection in making exchanges to all its members.
Every exchanger should join at once, and henceforth

be protected against dishonest exchangers.

candidates for the offices of president, vice-president,

Every member is eligible to candidacy if he so an-
nounces himself, but the three for each office who

.

 

Subordinate circles can be organized in any |
secured, |

The GooD News Protective Club guarantees pro- |

~~

e *
EXCHANGE Department.

is ‘
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,’’]

Decale ick

C. A. Galbraith, 20934 S. Henry street, West Bay
City, Mich., would like to hear from any person who
did not receive his goods for coupons sent him, as be
has some letters without addresses. Will that party
in Fort Worth, Texas, please write?

PRINTING PRESS.—Frank Shores, P. O. Box 41,
Grand Junction, Col., has a hand printing press and
plenty of type, to exchange ‘for magic apparatus, or
slide trombone.

MISCELLANEOUS.—Wm. Dodd, 2246 N, 21st
street, Philadelphia, Pa., has punching-bag, about 500
novels, a small pocket camera, 244x244 camera and
outfit, bicycle (pneumatic tires) 500 foreign and. U.S.
stamps, 1,000 postmarks, to exchange for best offer.
Inclose stamp for reply. 4

STAMPS, ETC.—E. Snowden, 6 E. 97th street, New
York city, wishes all having entire United States en-
velopes or cards unused, or any description of United
States unused, to write to him. Stamps for stamps,
Medical battery for stamps—United States unused.

MISCELLANEOUS.—James B. Nichols, Peters-
boro’, N. H., has a Longwood tennis racket, split
bamboo fishing-rod, with cork handle, cost $,

   

| twenty cloth-bound books, a new clown’s suit, toy

All per- |
sons joining at once can help nominate and elect the |

secretary, treasurer, and publisher of our club paper. |

send the best testimonials and most votes, will be |

selected as the three final candidates for that office |

upon which all members will vote in the coming elec-
tion. Solicit your votes and testimonials from any
person with whom you have traded if you announce
yourself a candidate.
club paper will please send sample of paper they can
print with prices per 100 delivered to members of club.
The initiation and elector fee has been reducd@d 5
cents; no dues. For more information send stamped
envelope to the present secretary, Ernest Breneman,
Box 795, Marion, Iowa.

St. Louis boys, attention.
city of St. Louis, Mo., and ride a bicycle, and wish to
join a Goop NEws Cycling Club will please send in
their name and address with 10 cents for initiation fee,
and 5 cents a month for dues. No dues for the first
month. The object of the club is to form runson a
Sunday, so there will not be boys going out Sundays
by themselves. A meeting place will be formed and
runs will be arranged on the Thursday before. A
monogram will be arranged for the cap and dis-
| tributed among the members. The name will be
“G. N.C. C.—The Goop Nrws Cycling Club.” All
members will meet at the fate of the Blair Statue, on
) King-highway, Lindell, at 2 p. m. Sunday, May 3ist.
In case of rain the day before it will be postponed till
the next Sunday. Members can pay their initiation
fee out there if they wish. Boys and girls from
| twelve to fourteen only are admitted. Address to the
organizer, Conrad C, Lueke, Jr., 1582 N. Broadway,
St. Louis, Mo.

The Goop NrEws Champion Exchange Club of Mor-
gan, Pa., invites every Goop News exchanger to
join this club; initiation fee is only 3 cents; dues are
5 cents per month. Weintend publishing an amateur
paper soon, which members will receive. If for any
reason any member of this club is dissatisfied with
this club, if he will notify the secretary he can have
his fee and dues for the month that he is not satisfied
returned towim. Ladies are admitted free; and the
first one from the following States are admitted free :
Ohio, Montana, Texas, Georgia, Illinois, Iowa,
Canada, Missouri, Maine, Michigan, Connecticut,
Washington, Pennsylvania, Minnesota, Oregan, Utah,
Wisconsin, Tennessee; write for application blank
and further information which will be cheerfully
given to all, Fred H. Mills, Box 26, Morgan,
Allegheny, County, Pa.

The Goop News Lone Star Corresponding Club is a
genuine up-to-date Goop News Club. It isn’t any
new club either, but an old one which already bas
many members. L
possible we will have you. Now just gaze on this
offer, to each and every one joining within seven days
after this notice appears we will send fifty foreign
stamps, one brand new novel, beautiful membership
card, and list of members. We especially invite the
young ladies to join. We will also admit secretaries
of other clubs free, but without the presents, if they
will return the favor. The fee is only 10 cents (silver)
‘or boys, young l
are a dues. Will O. Jones, secretary, 713 8.
Jefferson street, Paris, Texas.

The Goop News Stars and Stripes ¢ ‘orresponding
Club of Duluth, Minn., is up-to-date. This club wants
members in all foreign as well as American countries.
All joining this week will receive five different
amateur papers, aS well as a membership card, list,
application blank, trick, and the stamp-flirtation.
When joining please state from what notice you join
| and then there will be no mistake as to the articles
you receive, for we occasionally make special in-
ducements. The first one joining from Canada will
receive a novel. Initiation fee only 10 cents; no dues.
Foreigners and ladies cordially invited to join free.
Join now and be happy. Address all communica-
tions to the secretary, Wm. G. Campbell, Duluth,
vats ? Who! Why the Granit

y > again, boys? 10! rv the Granite
sinte Goon NEWS Corresponding Club of Portsmouth,
N. H. You hear from us weekly hereafter if you
watch Goop News club column. We want members
from all foreign countries. Upon joining you receive
a membership card and list of members as soon as we
receive twenty-five members, and we are also going
to publish a paper then; printers are especially invited
to join this club; all joining this week will receive
membership card and novels. Initiation fee, 10 cents;
dues, 5 cents quarterly in advance. Address all
communications to Harry Loach, secretary and
treasurer, P. O. Box 692, Portsmouth, N. H.

sar! boys and girls, what is the matter, are you
jee ie a the Emerald Isle Goop
News Club of New York? A bundle of reading
matter and tid-bits for one year to every member:
also the Helper every month for a year. A stamp
and coin sale every month, as we have no card as yet,
but as soon as possible we will have card and list
printed. Initiation fee, ten cents; dues twenty cents
'a month. Address the secretary-treasurer, Fred
Fischer, 144 7th avenue, New Y ork.
i} Po you want to join the Goop NEws Reading Club
of Rankin, Pa.? Ifso send 10 cents to the secretary,
J. M. Crom, Rankin, Pa.

 

 

ladies and foreigners free of all!

Candidates for publisher of |

All boys residing in the |

We want you for a member, and if

| has “Mekeel's Postage Stamp Album of the World,”
| cost $1.50 (never been used), to exchange for an elec-

 

opera, two scenes, catcher’s mitt, novels, etc., to ex-
change for typewriter,

MISCELLANEOUS.—Homer Martin, Clinton, Mo.,
has a hand bracket saw, fontjof concave type, and font
of body type, to exchange for cuts or two-third cases

MISCELLANEOUS.—James H. Brooks, 32 Dore”
mus street, Paterson, N. J., will give eighteen 5-cent
and four 25-cent novels, also one book entitled ‘“‘Army
Recitations, Readings, and Veteran War Songs,” 185
marbles, five bull’s eyes, and one game, entitled
“The Dog Show,” for best offer. All letters promptly
attended to.

MISCELLANEOUS.—S. P. Hughes, Howe, Neb.,
has good foreign stamps, stamp papers, novels, etc.,
to exchange for United States postage and revenue
stamps.

STAMPS.— Frank T. Shepard, Nebraska City,
Neb., bas stamps to exchange for printing or rubber
type.

PRINTING PRESS.—Alfred Johnson, 452 Bergen
avenue, Jersey City, N. J., would like to hear from
all persons having small printing press to exchange.

MISCELLANEOUS.—Frank A. Bradbury, Hart-
ford City, Ind., has an 8-keyed flute, 3 joints, mouth-
piece, keys, etc., are all German silver, valued at $12,
and a violin valued at about $3 toexchange for a man-
dolin valued at about $15. He also has 1,500 foreign
and United States stamps, valued at about $4.50 to ex-
change for printing material.

STAMPS.—Johnnie O. Benson, 1824 17th avenue,
Moline, Ill., will exchange fifty good mixed foreign
and United States stamps fora lic. ora 30c. Columbian
stamp. Stamp must be in good condition, Send your
stampsand receive his by return mai}. All letters or
postals answered.

READING MATTER.—L. Thibault, 399 9th street,
Troy, N. Y., has reading matter toexchange for Web-
ster’s International, Worcester’s, or any other diction-
ary or eucyclopedia.

TELEGRAPH INSTRUMENT.— Rush Huff,
Goodland, Ind., has a telegraph key and sounder in
good condition, magic lantern, with six slides, game
of Robinson Crusoe, nineteen 5-cent novels, and six
10-cent novels, one book: ‘‘How to do Magic,” and one
speaker to exchange for opera plays, goods, etc., or
electrical goods. All letters and postals answered.

STAMPS.—S. M. Henderson, 418 Madison avenue,
Albany, N. Y., has 1,000 foreign stamps (catalogued
over $20) to exchange for a printing pressin good or-
der, chase not less than 4x6, and not less than five
fonts of type; will also give 100 foreign stamps (cata-
logued over $2,) for a one or three-candle power in-
candescent lamp. References if desired.

STAMPS.—H. B. Jacobs, 100 3d avenue, Cleve-
land, Ohio, will give fifty stamps for every United
States stamp above 10c., or for every Columbian
above 2c.; fifteen for every special delivery or de-
partment stamp; fifteen for every United States due
above 3c.; 100 for every United States 7c., 12c., or 24¢,
Other articles for stamps, minerals, or fossils.

STAMP ALBUM.—E. E. Lowe, Amos, W. Va.

  

tric motor that cost not less than $1.75 and must be in
good running order. Write what kind you have.

MISCELLANEOUS,.—L. E. Merrell, 402 James
street, Syracuse, N. Y., has reading matter, nineteen
copies of Mekeel’s Weekly Stamp News, a $1.50 game
entitled “Strategy” (very exciting), to exchange for a
jointed fishing-rod or a fifteen-year-old size all-wool
sweater; also will give rare stamps on sheets to the
value of $2.50 for a lancewood fishing-rod or $2
sweater. Books for leather-clad tales. All communi-
cations answered,

MISCELLANEOUS.—O. P. Hazard, 3024, 9th
street, 8. E., Washington, D. C., will give ten bound
books, by Alger, Trowbridge, Castlemon, etc.; thirty
5-cent novels; a set of unused Columbians from 1c. to
80c., and a lIc., 2c., 5¢., and 10c. unused Columbian
envelopes complete for any Columbian above 50c.
used or unused. Write for particulars. Reading
matter for stamps.

STAMPS.—H. J. Troxell. 940 Gordon street, Allen-
town, Pa., will exchange 325 perfect (no cut or torn)
foreign stamps for a 50c. Columbian stamp in good
condition.

MISCELLANEOUS.—Geo. H. Stapenhorst, 36 Han-
over street, Cumberland, Md., would like to hear
from persons having mandolin, cornet, violin, bound
volumes of poeins by standard poets, boxing-gloves,
punching-bag, fencing foils, etc., Webster's Una-
bridged or International Dictionary, to exchange for
5, 10, 25, and 50-cent novels, standard magazines and
weeklies.

NOVELS.—Ralph Thompson, Lock Box 274; Centre-
ville, Ia., has 5 and 10-cent novels to exchange for the
same. All letters or postals answered; send right
away. :

CAMERA, ETC.—H. W. Steger, Lock Box 340,
Pulaski City,!Va., hassix-shot camera with tweny-four
films, book of instructions and chemicals for use, to
exchange for two sets of boxing-gloves in good con-
dition. All letters and postals answered.

Noricr.—Owing to the extraordinary number of ex-
change notices received, many are left over until next
1S

THE MYSTERIOUS BICYCLIST.

BY VICTOR ST. CLAIR.

-_——

FRIEND of mine, whose word I
% consider as good as gold, told me the
3k following singular story, which I
~~ repeat in his own language:

‘*As you know, I took a trip to the Old
World last year, and the little experience I
am about to tell you occurred while I was
on that journey.

‘*Roy Aldine, Herbert Verder, and myself
were wheeling it through Norway.

‘*Roy was a genial, kind-hearted fellow,
ever ready for a good time, and the life of
our little party.

‘“‘Bert’s nature was just the reverse—
moody, taciturn, though wild and_ reckless
in the extreme. He gave the least evidence
of fear of any person I ever met. Nerve? |
have seen him drive his bicycle for rods at
a time on the brink of a chasm, so near that
another inch would send him upon the rocks
a hundred feet below! He seemed to take a
sort of fiendish delight in such feats.

‘*T can’t tell who first proposed the wild
project of our trip through the land of flad-
brod and fair-haired Norsemen, nor does it
matter now. Packing up the few things
we needed, we chartered passage on an Eng-
lish steamer, and as the setting sun at close
of a clear September day was gilding heaven
and earth with a halo known only in those
hyperborean regions, the bare, gray rocks of
Gotha loomed before us, when with eager
gaze we looked upon the Swedish town of
Gothenburg.

‘‘Our journey’ now fairly before us, the
next day we bestrode our ‘silent steeds’ at
an early hour, to head for Wenersburg, on

 
      

%\

Lake Wener. After seeing the famous water- |
falls of Trollhatta, we steered for Stock-

holm, adding to our original plan a few
days’ ride in Sweden.

*‘Rinding the roads of that country in
anything but a promising condition, how-
ever, nothing loth, we turned from the
Swedish capital toward the west.

‘*T will not try to describe our journey, or
the places we visited. Knough for me to say
that we found ourselves at last in the Fille
Fjeld district in Norway. We had come
through the Pass of Torjedahl, with its awe-
inspiring scene of solitude and desolation, to
fairly shout for joy upon finding ourselves,
as it seemed, once more in the world.

‘‘We were,, however, still in the heart of a
mountain region, where to look ahead at any
time was to make us feel certain that the
winding, shelving road we were following
must terminate at the foot of the crags jut-
ting out from the heights on either hand.

‘tin the distance, towering above the lesser
peaks like a grim sentinel, rose the Jotun-
heim Mountains, whose ascent we resolved
to make the next day.

‘‘We reached a small inn about sunset,
where we were glad to stop for the night.

‘‘In reply to our inquiries, the host in-
formed us that we should need a guide on
our projected mountain trip, and that such
a person could be found about three Eng-
lish miles lower down the valley.

‘‘We decided to secura the services of the
old mountaineer, if possible, and for that
purpose it was necessary that one of us
should visit his ‘‘saeter.’’

‘This fell to the lot of Bert, when our
host pointed out to him the course he must
follow.

‘* ‘Why can’t I cross the valley just below
here and save more than half of the dis-
tance?’ asked Bert, as he marked the round-
about way shown him. ‘I can save consider-
able distance.’

‘¢ ‘Cross the valley?’ repeated our host, in
surprise. ‘It is death to attempt that! A
treacherous morass stretches from this side
to the other.’

‘* ‘Nonsense!’ cred Bert. ‘I'll risk it. It
will save me two miles of travel, and after
wheeling as far as I have to-day over your
well-nigh impassable roads, if behooves me
to save every rod possible.’

‘‘T think his reference to the poor condi-
tion of the roads nettled the Norwegian, for
he followed it with the cutting speech:

‘““<Try it, then, you hot-headed Yankee.
It may be better than the roads, though
wiser men than youw have lost their lives
there.’

‘* ‘7 will try it,’ answered Bert, fiercely.
‘T’7ll show you that I am not to be scared
off by your foolish stories.’

‘(The other shook his head.

‘* ‘Old Zuter will never get your message,
and——’

‘* ‘He will get the message,’ cried Bert,
looking daggers at the old inn-keeper, who
seemed alarmed at his wild manner. ‘He
shall get it if I have to go to him dead.’

‘*We tried. to pacify him, but he seemed
suddenly to have lost his reason, while the
Norwegian was equally as unreasonable.

‘*The words of the last impressed me
strangely, and thinking there might be some
truth in what he said, | asked Bert to let
me go down the valley to the old guide’s.

‘‘He laughed at me.

** *So you, too, think that I am afraid?’

‘* ‘Not that, Bert; but the valley may not
be safe crossing, Besides, you know there is
an old saw to the effect that ‘‘the shortest
way ’cross is often the longest way round.’’’

to scare me off so easily. After what has |
been said, there isn’t power enough to stop
me from going. I will cross that valley, too,
and dead, if not living, see old Zuter to-
night.’ |

‘‘T shall never forget how he looked as he |
uttered those words. We suid no more, and
a few minutes later he started.

‘‘Tt was half an hour after sunset when }
Bert left us, though the night was nearly as
light as day.

**As soon as he had started I began to feel
uneasy, and Koy afterward confessed to the
same weakness.

‘*We learned from the inn-keeper that the
bottom of the valley was a’ sort of quick-
sand, overgrown with a fine, wiry grass,
and that to cross the place was impossible.

‘* *Your friend will find it so, and gladly
turn back,’ he declared.

‘*Of course he would, so we gave the mat-
ter little thought, and our uneasiness gradu-
ally wore away. '

‘*An hour passed, and Bert had not re-
| turned. It was nearly time for him to come,
however.

‘‘Half an hour wore away, and still he
was absent,

‘‘T began to grow nervous, and I saw
that Roy looked anxiously down the road
almost continually.

‘< *Let’s go and meet him; he can’t be
|far away,’ I said. Roy quickly assented.

‘‘The track of Bert’s bicycle was quite
plainly seen for perhaps a quarter of a
mile, when it suddenly disappeared.

‘*We stopped.

‘* “Look! cried Roy, ‘he turned from the
road here.’

‘* “And went down to the valley,’ I added,
while my tone grew husky,

‘**Let’s know the worst,’ said Roy, lead-
ing the way.

‘“‘We had to dismount, after going a few
rods, to continue our way on foot.

‘*We had not gone far, however, when we
same to the edge of a clearing overgrown
with a short, thickly matted grass. It
seemed like an oasis in mid-desert sur-
rounded by that wild, broken scene.

‘Roy started to cross the opening, but at
the first step he sank into its porous depths,
when I caught him by the arm. -

‘¢*It is the spot that the old inn-keeper
spoke of,’ he exclaimed, ‘the treacherous
morass.’

‘* ‘So he told the truth.
Bert?’

‘*We could find no trace of him, and at
last we gave up thesearch,

‘* *He saw the impossibility of crossing
here, so, like a sensible fellow, gave it up,’
declared Roy. ‘We can do no better than to
return to the road.’

‘*Upon reaching the traveled way, instead
of going back to the inn, we decided to fol-
low on until we should meet our friend,
whom we felt certain must be returning.

‘*Nor did we go far before we saw him
coming.

‘Stopping for him. to join us, you may
judge of our surprise when he sped by with-
out looking at us! o

‘*Both of us saw that his face was deathly
white, and that his garments were drenched
with water.

‘*Supposing that he was angry with us
for coming after him, we turned back to re-
trace our way in silence, soon losing sight of
him,

‘*The ease and rapidity with which he
glided along the steady up grade surpriged
us.

‘‘Upon reaching the inn, however, we
were told that he had not yet appeared. It
seemed impossible that we could have passed
him, and we waited anxiously for him to
come.

‘¢Morning dawned, and he was still mis-
sing !

‘*Poor Bert! we found his bicycle lying
half buried in the morass the next day. He
must have perished there, and his body sunk
from sight.

‘*The old mountaineer came up to the inn
with a look of wonder upon his face, declar-
ing that a dead man had called at his home
the night before, and told him that he was
wanted to guide a party to the Jutenheim
that day.

‘It was all a mystery, though we unani-
mously decided that it was Bert’s apparition
which had ridden his bicycle that evening.
We remembered his rash vow with something
of a shudder. Roy nor myself were of a
superstitious nature, but the pleasure of our
trip was over. We turned our faces home-
ward with sad hearts.

‘*On our way we passed through some of
the grandest scenery in Western Norway,
and certainly by far the most beautiful and
picturesque we had seen. The road led
through a defile, bounded on either side
by lofty, fantastic barriers of rock of unde-
scribable grandeur. Crossing a river of
clear, sparkling water, we commenced the
ascent of the Stalheim Sklev. This is a
mountain of a thousand feet in height and
very precipitous. The Klev (cliff) is as-
cended by sixteen wonderfully steep zigzags,
resembling a corkscrew, being a marvel of
engineering skill. We had to push our bicy-
cles up the ascent, but the view from the top

 

 

But where is

 

 

amply paid us for our pains. The aspect
from the summit, looking back upon the
Naerodal, with its large, tumbling and toss-

GOOD NEws.

0

‘*<Ta-ta! you needn’t'think you are going ing fall; is almost inconceivable to a

stranger,

‘*Shortly after the scenery became less in-
teresting, and at Bolstadoren we took the
steamer, which traversed some very narrow

land picturesque fords, to Bergen, one of

the oddest and quaintest towns in Norway.
From thence we shaped our course home-

| ward.

‘*‘Two months later Roy and I were sit-
ting under the porch of the cottage at Bishop-
Auckland, which had been our home before
starting upon our trip through Norway,
when we discovered a solitary bicyclist
coming up the dusty road.

‘Watching his approach with interest, we
soon began to distinguish familiar features
in his appearance,

‘*As we recognized his movements, his
figure, and last; when he was near enough,
his countenance, exclamations of amaze-
ment left our lips.

‘‘It was Bert Verder or his apparition,
looking as pale and ghostly almost as cn
that fateful evening we saw him last.

‘‘Little wonder if we were silent and
looked upon his approach with awe.

“Gliding up the walk which led to the
cottage, he sprang lightly to the ground.

‘*He smiled as he held out his hands, say-
ing:

‘* “Haven’t you a word for me—your old
friend, who is at last able to stand before
you?’

*“The spell was broken, and in-the same
breath Roy and I cried:

‘* ‘Tn mercy’s name, Bert Verder, is this
you or your ghost?’

‘*He laughed,

‘Take this hand, old fellows, and judge
for yourselves.. I trust Iam worth a dozen
dead men, though, to speak the truth, I
have been into the valley of death.’

‘‘We hesitated no longer, and you may
rest assured we greeted him with a vehle-
mence that spoke of no little joy.

‘* Bert’s explanation of that night’s mys-
tery was not clear, for it was a long time
after ere he was brought to a realization of
anything that occurred. His rash speech
had weighed heavily on his mind; but, des-
pite the warning he had received, he at-
tempted to cross the valley, only to. be
caught in the fatal quicksand. He struggled
in its terrible depths, until nearly overcome
with horror and exhaustion. He did succeed
in regaining the shore, when he fell prone
upon the earth, unconscious.

‘‘He knew nothing of the following scenes,
We could imagine that with the fearful vow
preying upon his disordered mind, he had
gone to the old mountaineer’s home, and
returned to that lonely spot, from whence,
after leaving his bicycle, he had wandered
on foot to a saeter, a mile distant, where he
was cared for by the kind occupants.

‘*Fever reigned over his body and mind
for a long time. As soon as his health would
permit, finding that we had left the country,
he followed us to our old stopping place. It
was a singular case of the power and ac-
tivity of the mind when bereft of reason,
and I have told it to you just as it occurred,
I saw Bert last spring, when he spoke of the
strange adventure with a shake of the head.
It was not without, its good results, for he

Running Qualities,

has lost his former recklessness. ’’
MAJESTIC

Finish de Luxe

Finish Standard BICYCLES

HULBERT BICYCLE SKIRT

Change from riding to walking length in a second

MESINGER RATTAN SADDLE

Correct for steady riding, resting or scorching,

HULBERT PNEUMATIC BRAKE

will not injure the wheel. Rubber against rubber.
Hulbert Bros. & Co., f

26 West 23d St., New York City.
Mention Good News.

( per 1,000 cash paid for distributing circulars;

F enclose 4 cents. United States Distributing
Bureau, Chicago, Il.

 

 

Perfect Lines,
Workmanship and

 

 

Mention Good News.

“THIS MEANS YOU! ~

If you are areader of Good News, send in your
name and address, together with a two-cent stamp;
and we will send you in return a

GOOD NEWS CLUB BUTTON,

These buttons ean be worn in the lapel of the coat.
The body of the button is blue and red, and the words
“Goop Nrws Club” are stamped in gold, making a
very attractive ornament. As the supply is not large,
we trust that you will appreciate the opportunity, and
write at once.

Address: Club Department, Goop NEws, 29 Rose
street, New York City.

ON WHAT DAY WERE YOU BORK?

, Just published in book form, a perpetual calendar.
Good for this year, next year, last year, or any other
year. Itisindexed 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.

  

tee ee

  

 

SPECIAL.—We will send
FREE, on receipt of 2 cent stamp to
pay for mailing and packing, @&
twenty-five cent book entitled
‘‘Family Medical Instructor.’’ This
book has been compiled with great
care, and in cases of emergency will
be found invaluable. Tormons CHEM-
ICAL Co., 2, 4, 6 and 8 Duane St,
aw York.

—OUT-DOOR SPORTS.

Price, 10 Cents.

A book of instruction for playing many of the
most popular out-ofdoor games. A book that will
supply a long felt want. The games introduced,
while well known, are elaborated, and many new
features introduced, which makes them more inter
esting and less likely to become stale. Illustrates
games with and without toys,for the city or country
For sale by allnewsdealers, or will be sent, pos t.
paid, upon receipt of price, 10e., by the publishers.
MANUAL LIBRA RY, 29 Rose Street _N «Ve

G BOUND VOLUMES OF GOOD

* NEWS.

We have issued volumes three, four;
five, six and seven, bound in an a&
tractive heavy paper cover. Twenty”
six numbers constitute a volume. The

. papers are cut and trimmed and pound
with as much care as an expensive cloth binding, and
the prices are
Vol, 3, $1 Each. .

1
Vols. 4, 5, 6 and 7 85c. Eache

These volumes contain serial’stories by
Edward S. Ellis,
Jas. Otis.

Harry Castlemon,
Walter Morris,
W. B. Lawson,

 

 

S. & S. Manual Library No. 7.

 
 

Horatio Alger,
Edward Stratemeyer,
Wm. Murray Graydon,
Oliver Optic.

Lieut. Lounsberry.
And others equally well known.

Address Subscription Goop NEWS;

29 Rose street, New York.

Department

Vols. 1 and 2 out of print,

EVERY YOUNG MAN ~

Should read the ’ook entitled

HOW TO DO BUSINESS,

This book is a guide to success in life, as it not only
tells how to do business, but how to succeed in it. In
teresting chapters on Fundamental Principles, Kinds
of Business, Qualifications for Business, Choice of #
Pursuit, Mercantile Pursuits, How to Get Customer
Manufacturing, Mechanical Trades, Causes of Failure:
Book-keeping, Commercial Forms, Business VocabUe
lary, ete. This book will be sent, postpaid, on recelP’
of TEN CENTS, Address MANUAL LIBRARY)
29 Rose Street, New York. 2

_ — — oo

The Young Gy

 

mnast,

A perfect instructor for the amateur and professions
#ymnasium, and of incalculable value to any one eh
wishes to become a gymnast. Profusely illustrat 7
Iixplains the mode of training, treatment of accide? Dp
gymnastic exercises of the arms, iumb-bells, Inds
clubs, trapeze, horizontal bar, ani! all sorts of pene
and feats of gymnastics. For sale by all newsdealehy
or sent post paid, upon receipt of price, 10 cents;

the publishers, ‘ork
MANUAL LIBRARY, 29 Rose Street, New Yores
et ht RONEN

 

 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 

This book gi
over one! ai
dred pagent
contains 0,
4 plete insttiy
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of subject — Penmanship, Spelling, Grams,
Punctuation, Use of Capitals, Abbreviate 331

style; advice to those who write for the P
business letters, letters of introduction, aPPyve
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and courtship, ete.; the art of secret writing pli¢
ness laws and maxims, rules of conducting pi ot
meetings, and all forms of conveying thought?” of
one mind to another through the medi@™. oot
written language. This valuwble book will D@ is.
postpaid to any address on receipt of ten New
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A hand-book of practical instrnctions in, 40
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Amateur’s Manual of Photograflt

 

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