READ THE SPECIAL DEPARTMENTS
THIS WEEK. EDITORIAL CHAT, ATH-
LETIC SPORTS, AMATEUR JOURNALISM
AND STAMPS.

440 0000400000006

GRE EEE 400 0804

 

 

1) oc
©
©

Os
Ss
By

MARK’S TREMBLING HAND WAS POINTING DIRECTLY TOWARD THE SKELETON

(From “‘ Mark Mallory’s Strange Find,” by Lieutenant Frederick Garison, U.S. A.) Complete in this number.

 
 

 

THE “PLEBES’” FIRS? DRILL.

UNITED STATES NAVAL ACADEMY.

 

By JOSEPH COBLENTZ GROFF.

 

HERE are two opportunities for examination each year presented to the candidate for entrance into the Academy,

one in May and the other in September.

Those who enter in May are taken on the summer cruise along with the members of the first and third classes,
and when the cruise is: finished the ‘‘plebes’’ are quartered on the Santee until the new academic year begins, by
which time their number has been increased by those entering in September.

When a candidate is informed by the superintendent that he has passed both mental and physical examinations, he
is given an order on the Academy storekeeper for his uniforms and all the necessary outfit for his room in quarters and
for the cruise.

He at once secures a cap and all of the furnishings that are already on hand, and then is measured for his uniforms.

While waiting for the latter he wears his civilian’s clothes, with coat tightly buttoned, and is easily recognized as
he passes through the grounds, by reason of the mixture of uniform.

All new fourth classmen are quartered on the Santee till October, and they are under the control of the Officer-
of-the-Day until the cruise begins.

While the other cadets are at recitations or at drill, the ‘‘plebes’” are marched to the armory or the gymnasium
where they receive their first drill as naval cadets.

They are drilled, zot by some cadet petty officer or corporal, as at West Point, but by the Sword-master of the
Academy, or by some of his assistants.

They are taught to form company, to march, to take proper interval for gymnastics and setting-up exercises, and
are compelled to go through with all of these exercises every day so as to acquire as quickly as possible that manly
bearing and easy carriage which are characteristics of the naval cadet.

They are also taught the manual of arms and the practical use of fire-arms, so that by the beginning of the new
academic year they are competent to take their assigned places in the cadet battalion of infantry and artillery.

Most of the new cadets, having come from distant homes with determination and ambition to excel, become
ready pupils at these exercises, and, although some are very green and awkward at first, all gradually approach that
condition which strict discipline and systematic training must produce.

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

ARMY AND NAVY.

Issued weekly, By subscription, $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-Class Matter at the New York Post Office
STREET & SMITH, 238 William Street, New York. Copyrighted 1897.

Editor, - - - ARTHUR SEWALL.

 

November 27, 1897. Wool =1. (ONG. 24° Price, Five Cents.

 

CONTENTS OF THIS NUMBER:

Mark Mallory’s Strange Find (Complete story), Lieut. Frederick Garrison, U, S. A.
Cliff Faraday’s Deliverance (Complete story), Ensign Clarke Fitch, U. S..N.
Dan’s Bicycle Race (Sketch) ; :

In Forbidden Nepaul (Serial), William Murray Graydon

Foiling a ‘Traitor (Short story) E. A. Carr

‘Tom Fenwick’s Fortune (Serial), Frank H. Converse ;

A Young Breadwinner (Serial) Matthew White, Jr.
'T' wixt Fire and Steel (Short story) George Q. Farquhar

Editorial Chat, : : : : : ; : : ; é Department
Athletic Sports, .. : ; : : : : : : Department
Items of Interest all the World Over : : ; : ; Department
Correspondence Column, : ; : : ; : Department
Stamps Column, . : : ; : : : : 2 Department
Amateur Journalism pee ‘ : ; Department

Our Joke Department

 

PRIZE CONTEST.
POCKET MONEY FOR CHRISTMAS.

HE publishers of the Army AnD Navy are desirous of obtaining the opinions of
their readers on the military and naval cadet stories now running, and for that
purpose offer the following prizes for the best letters on the subject. TWENTY-
FIVE DOLLARS divided into FIVE PRIZES of FIVE DOLLARS EACH will be
given for the five most sensible opinions as to which is the best written, and most in-
teresting story of the ten to be published in Nos. 19, 20, 21, 22 and 23 of the Army
AND Navy. Letters should not exceed two hundred words in length. The contest
will close December ist, 1897. Address all letters.to ‘‘Criticism ConrtesT,’’? ARMY
AND Navy, STREET & Smiru, 238 William Street, New York.

 
 

 

Bw Lieut.

Mark Mallory’ S Strange Find-

The Secret of ee Countericiies’ s Cave.

Rrederick Garrisom, Ue S. A.

B fein:

 

 

CHAPTER |

- A LETTER FROM ‘WICKS’? MERRITT.

_ ‘Hey there, you fellows; I’ve got a
letter to read to you.’

He was a tall handsome lad, with a
frank, pleasant face and a wealth of curly
brown hair. He wore a close-fitting gray
jacket and trousers. ‘The uniform ofa
West Point ‘‘plebe,’’ as the new cadet is
termed. He was standing in front of one
of the tents in the summer camp of the
corps, and speaking to half a dozen of
his classmates.

The six looked up with interest when
they hedrd what he said.

‘‘Come in, Mark,’’ called-one of them.
‘Come in here and read it.’

‘This is addressed to me,’’ began
Mark, obeying the request and sitting
down. ‘‘But it’s really meant for the
whole seven of us, the Seven Devils.
And its interesting as showing what the
old cadets think of the tricks we bold
plebes have been playing on them.”’

‘“Who’s it from ?”?

‘It’s from Wicks Merritt, the second.

classnan I met here last year. He’s
home on furlough for the summer, but
some of the other cadets have written and
told him about us and what we’ve been
doing. And this is what he says about it.
eisten.’”

‘‘Dear Mark :—Whenever I sit down
to write to you it seems to me I can
think of nothing to say, but to marvel at
the extraordinary rumpus you have
kicked up at West Point. Every time I
hear from there you are doing still more
incredibly impossible acts, until I expect
. to hear next that you have been made

pleased.

superintendent or something. However,

in this letter I really have something else
to tell you about, but I shall put it off to

the last and keep you in suspense.

‘Well, I hear that not satisfied with
defying the yearlings to haze you and
actually keeping them from doing it,

which is something no plebe has ever

dared to dream of before, you have gone
on to still further recklessness, Te
say that you have gotten half a dozen
other plebes to back you up and that to
cap the climax you actually dared to go
to one of the hops. Well, I do not know
what to say to that; it simply takes my
breath away. I should liked to have been
there to see him doing it. They say that
Grace Fuller, the girl you saved from
drowning, got all the girls to promise to

dance with you, and that the end of the ~

whole business was the yearlings stopped

the music and the hop and left in disgust.

I fairly gasp when I picture that scene.
“‘T hesitate to. give an original person

like you advice. You never heeded what

I gave you anyway, but went right ahead
in your own contrariness to do what you
I guess you were right. But I
want to warn you a little. By your un-
heard of daring in going to that hop you
have incurred the enmity of not only the

yearlings, whom you have beaten at every *

turn, but also of the powerful first class
as well. And they will never stop until
they subdue you. I don’t know what
they’ll try, but it will be something des-
perate and you must stand the conse-
quences. You’ll probably have to take
turns fighting every man in the class.
When I come back I expect to find you
buried six feet deep in court plaster.’?

   
    

  

    
   
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
  
  
   
   
 
   
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
    
 

 

 

 

   
  

 

 
   
   

 

».. with silver linings.
'* play the gentleman all day and not have
to turn out and drill like you unfortunate

Mark looked up from the letter for a
moment, and smiled.
‘‘T wish the dear old chump could see

me now,” he said.

Wicks’ prediction seemed nearly ful-
filled. Mark’s face was bruised and band-
aged; one shoulder was still immovable
from a dislocation, and when he moved
any other part of himself he did it with a

cautious slowness that told of sundry

aching joints.

‘‘Yes,’’ growled one of the six listen-
ers, a lad from ‘Texas, with a curious

cowboy dialect. ‘‘Yes, doggone it! But I

teckon Wicks Merritt didn’t have any

‘idea them durnation ole cadets ’d pile on

to lick you all together. I tell you what,
it gits me riled. Jes’ because you had the
nerve to defy ’em and fight the feller that
ordered you off that air hop floor, doggone
’em, they all had to pitch in and beat
yor. —

‘Never mind,’ -laughed Mark, cheer-
fully. ‘‘They were welcome. I knocked
out my man, which was what I went out
for. And besides, we managed to outwit
them in the end, leaving them deserted
and scared to death on the opposite shore
of the Hudson. You’ve heard of clouds
I’m off duty and can

plebes. And moreover, nobody offers to
haze me any more while I’m a cripple.”’
“It'd be jes’ like ’em to,’ growled
"Fexas.
‘““That’s got nothing to do with the
letter,’’ responded Mark. ‘‘ There is some
news in here that?l] interest you fellows,
if ‘T'exas would only stop growling at the
cadets long enough to give mea chance.
Too much fighting is spoiling your gentle
disposition, ‘Texas.”’
‘*Ya-as,’? grinned the
"YOu jes’ so on.’
lL will, eomtinued Mark. —° Listen.’
‘*T got a letter from Fischer yesterday.
Fischer is captain of your company, I
think. . He telis ime that that -rascally
Benny Bartlett, the fellow from your
town who tried to cheat you out of your
appointment, but whom you beat at the

Southerner.

- examinations, turned up a short while

ago with a brand new plot to get you iuto
trouble. It reads like a fairy story, what
Fischer told me. He had a printer’s boy

  
 

 

ARMY AND NAVY | : 1107

hired to accuse you of bribing him to
steal you the exam. papers. The super-
intendent believed him and you were
almost fired. :
‘‘Rischer-says he went out at night
with that wild chum of yours, Texas,
who’s made himself almost as famous as
you, by riding out onto the cavalry plain
and holding up the artillery squadron

eee IED

Texas was grinning volubly at that por-
tion of the letter——

‘The two of them held up the printer’s
boy and robbed him of some papers that
showed his guilt. Well, Mr. Mallory, I
certainly congratulate you on your luck.
You owe a debt of gratitude to Fischer,
who ought to be your enemy really, since
he was one of the hop managers you riled
so. :

‘“And now for the news I have. I write
to tell you—and I know it will surprise
you—that you are not yet through with
that troublesome Master Bartlett.’

“Durnation!’’ echoed Texas, springing
up in surprise! ‘‘Durnation! What does
he know ’bout it?”

‘Wait,’ laughed Mark, by way of
answer. ‘‘Wait, and you’ll see. Wicks is
quite a detective.’

‘‘As you’ll notice by the postmark of
this letter Jam in Washington, D. G at
present. And what do you think? I
have met Benny Bartlett here!

‘‘Tcan hear you gasp when yon read
that. .1 knew him, but he didn’t know
me, so I made up my mind to have some
fun with him. I picked up an acquaint-
ance with him, and told him I was from
West Point. Then he got intimate and
confidential, said he knew a confounded
fresh plebe up there, Mallory, they called
him. Well, I said I’d heard of Mallory.
And,- Mark, I nearly had him wild.

‘In the first place, you know, he hates
you like poison. Ican’t tell you how
much. ‘This paper wouldn’t hold all the
names he called you. And oh, what lies
he did tell about you: So I thought to
tease him I’d take the other tack. I told
him of all your heroism, how you’d saved
the life of the daughter of a rich old
judge up there, and were engaged to
matry her some day. I threw that in for

good measure, though they say it is a
desperate case between you and her—

  
 

folded up the letter.

  

    

1108
upon which I congratulate you, for she’s
a treasure.’
fod ee what he’d say,’’ put in one
-of the six, ‘‘if he knew she? d joined the
Seven Devils to heip fool the yearlings.’’
‘*T told him,’’ continued Mark, read-
ing, ‘‘all about how you’d prevented
hazing and were literally .running the
place. Then IJ showed him Fischer’s let-
ter to cap. the climax. ‘And Mark, the
kid was crazy... He vowed he was coming
up there to ae you if it was the last
thing he ever did on earth.’’

FDurmaticn |. growled Texas ‘I'd
dike to see-hiin.”?
- Mark iaughed and went on. ‘‘He may

succeed yet,’’? he observed. ‘‘Listen.’’
‘*Benny Bartlett is now moving heaven

and earth to get an appointment. ”’

: What! J»?

“His father has a big pull with the
President, and is using it with a ven-
-geance. He pleads that his son did mag-
nificently at the Congressman’s examis,
and only failed at the others because he
was ill. And so Benny expects to turn
up to annoy you as one of the plebes who
come in when camp breaks up on the
gon Ol Ausust. = >

_ ‘Having warned you of this disagree-
able possibility nothing now remains for
me to do but wish you the best possible
luck in your quarrel with the first class,
and so sign myself,

‘*Sincerely yours,
““Wick’s Merritt.’?

The Seven stared at each Ney as Mark

| Fellows,’ said he, “we've got. just

one month to wait, just one month. Then

that contemptible fellow will be here to
bother us. But in the meantime I say we
forget about him. He’s unpleasant to
think about. Let’s not mention him
again until we see hiin.’’
And-the Parson echoed

= veo, bY

a 2eus.”

‘fhe Parson was just the same old part
-son he was the day he first struck Wes-
Point. Frequent hazings had not robbed

~ him of his quiet and classic dignity; and

still more frequent battles with ‘‘the
enemy’? had not made him a whit less
learned and studious. He was from Bos-
ton, was Parson Stanard, and he was
proud or it. Also he was a_ geologist of

   

ARMY AND NAVY

decision,

 

erudition most astoundingly deep.
had a bag of most wonderful fossils hid-

den away in his tent, fossils with names
as long as the Parson’s venerable and~

bony legs in their pale green socks.

The Parson was member No. 3 in our
Seven Devils, of which Mark was the

leader. No. 4 was ‘‘Indian,’’ the fat and
gullible and much hazed Joe Smith of
Indianapolis. After him came the merry |

and handsome Dewey, otherwise known
s ‘‘B’gee!”’ the prize story teller of the
crowd. Chauncey, surnamed ‘‘the dude,’’
and Sleepy, ‘‘the farmer,’’ made up the

rest of that bold and valiant band which
was notorious for its ‘‘B. J.-ness.”” (B. J.

means fresh).

Master Benjamin Bartlett having been
laid on the shelf for the space of one
month (as he will be in these stories like-
wise), the seven cast about them for a
new subject of conversation to while
away the half hour of ‘‘recreation”’ al-
lotted to them between the mornirg’s
drill and dinner.

‘‘I want to know,’’ suggested Dewey,
‘“what shall we do this afternoon, b’gee?’’

That afternoon was Saturday (‘‘the
first Saturday we’ve had for a week,”’ as
Dewey sagely informed them, whereat
Indian cried out ‘‘Of course! Bless my
soul! How could it be otherwise 2”) Sat-.

urday is a half holiday for the cadets. :

“I don’t know,’’ said Mark. ‘‘I hardly
think the yearlings ’ll try any hazing to-
day. They’re waiting to see what the

first class 711 do when I get well enough.

to fight them.”’

The Parson rose to his feet with dig-
nity.

‘It is my purpose,’’ he said, with grave
‘‘to undertake an excursion into
the mountainous country in back of us,
particularly to the portion known as the

babitation of the Corcus Americanus——”? -

‘“The habitation of the what ?”?

‘(Of the Corous Americanus. You have
probably heard the mountain spoken of as
“Ctow's Nest, but. 1 preter tie ofr,
more scientific and accurate name. Since

there are in America numerous species

of crows, some forty-seven
eves?
The six sighed. |

in all, I be-

“It is my purpose,’’ continued the par- <

son, blinking solemnly as any wise old

He

Sree

SS

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pe

 

 
 

 

 

   
 

 

 
 

 
 

 

 

 

 

    
 
 

 

 

 

   
 
  

- limits’ and so

ARMY AND NAVY

owl, “to admire the beauttes of the

scenery, and also to conduct a little cur-

sory geological investigation in order
t b/e9}
Oa =

Say,’ interrupted Texas.

“* Well??? inquired the Parson.

‘‘D’you mean you’re a-goin’ to takea
walk ???

‘“Er—yes,’’ said the Parson, ‘“‘that

i )

iets all go,’? interrupted . Pexas.

‘‘T’d like to see some o’ that there geol-.

ogizin’ o? yourn.”’
‘] shall be delighted to extend you an
invitation,’’ said the other, cordially.
And thus it happened that the Seven

Devils took a walk back in the mountains

chat Saturday afternoon. ‘That walk was
the most momentous walk that those
devils or any other devils ever had occa-
sion to take.

ee ee et

CHAPTER. HH.

He PARSON'S © “'GEOLOGIZING™ — AND

WHAT IT LED TO.

It was a strangely accoutred cavalcade

that set out from Camp McPherson an _

hour or so later. The Parson as guide and
temporary chief led the way, having his
beloved Dana’s Geology under his se
and bearing in one hand an ‘‘astrology’’
hammer (as Texas termed it), in the other
capacious bag in which he purposed to
Carty any interesting specimens: he
chanced to find. The Parson had brought
with him to West Point his professional
coat with huge pockets for that purpose,
but being a cadet he was not allowed to
wear it.

-Chauncey and Indian brought up the
rear. Chauncey was picking his way dell1-
cately along, fearful of spoiling a beauti-
ful new shine he had just had put on.
And Indian was in immortal terror lest
some of the ghosts, bears, tramps or
snakes which the yearlings had assured
him filled the woods, should spring out
upon his fat, perspiring little self.

“The. government property at West
Point extends for some four miles up the
Hudson and back quite a ways into the
wild mountains to the rear. The govern-
mient property is equivalent to ‘‘cadet
the woods. are freely

   

    

r 1109

roained by the venturesome lads‘on holi-
day afternoons. -

he Parson was never more thoroughly
in his element than he was just then. He
was a learned professor, escorting a group
of patient and willing pupils. The infor-
mation which he gave out in solid chunks
that afternoon would have filled an ency-
clopaedia. A dozen times every hour he
would stop and hold forth upon some
newly observed object.

But it was when on geology that the
Parson was at: home. He might dabble in
all sciences; in fact, he considered it the
duty of a scholar to do so; but geology
was his specialty, his own, his pet and
paragon. And never did he wax so elo-
quent as when he was talking of geology.
“That science which unravels the mys-
teries of ages, that reads in the rocks of
the present the silent stories of the years
that are dead.’’

‘‘Behold yon towering -precipice,’’ he
cried, ‘‘with its crevices torn by the
winter’s snows and rains! Gentlemen, I
suppose you know that the substances
which we call earth and sand are but the
result of the ceaseless action of water,
which tore it from the mountains and
eround it into the ever-moving seas. It was
water that carved the mountains from the
miasses of ancient rock, and water that
cut the valleys that lead to the sea below.
A wonderful thing is water to the geol-
ogist, a strange thing.”’

“‘Tt’s a strange thing to a Texan, too,”’
observed the incorrigible cowboy, making
a sound like a popping cork.

‘This cliff all covered with vegeta-
tion,’’ continued the Parson, gazing up
into the air, ‘‘has a story to tell also. See
that. scar rumning across its surface. In
the glacial era, when this valley was a
mass of grinding, sliding ice, some great
stone caught in the mass plowed that
furrow which you see. And perhaps hun-
dreds of miles below here I might find
the stone that would fit that mark. ‘That
has been done by many a ba
scientist.”’

The six were staring at the cliff in
open mouthed interest.

‘In the post-tertiary periods,” con-_
tinued the lecturer, ‘‘this Hudson Valley
was an inland sea. By that line of colored
rock, denoting the top of the strata, 1 can
 

To

tell wliat was the level of that body of
water. The storms of that period did
great havoc among the rocks. ‘This cliff
may have been torn and burrowed; some
I know of that had great caves and pas-
sage ways worn in them.”
The six were still staring.

‘‘We find many wonderful fossils in
such rock. The seas then were inhabi-
tated by many gigantic animals, whose
skeletons we find, completely buried in
stone. I havethe foot of a Megatherium,
the foot being about as broad as my arm
is long, found in some shistose quartz of
this period. If you will excuse me for
but a few moments I should like to ex-
amine the fragments at the bottom of the
cliff and see——”?

‘‘I think I see a foot there!’’
Mark, excitedly.

‘“Where?’’?’ demanded the Parson, no
less so, his eyes flashing with professional
zeal.

‘It’s the foot of the cliff,’’ responded
Mark. ‘“Do you see it???

The Parson turned away with a grieved
look and fell to chipping at the rock.
The rest roared with laughter, for which
the geologist saw no cause.

-enticmen,’’ said. he at last, “tallow
me to remind you of a line from Gold-
smith’s Deserted Village:

cried

‘“*And the loud laugh that shows the empty
mind.

Whereupon Dewey muttered an excited
‘*B’ gee.’ Dewey had been so awed by
his companion’s learning that he hadn’t
told a story for an hour; but here the
temptation was too great.

“Bgee!” he cried. ‘‘That reminds me
of a story I once heard. ‘There was a fel-
low had a girl by the name of Auburn.
He wanted to write her a love poem,
b’gee, and he didn’t know how to begin.
That! poem—the Deserted Village—be-
gins:

‘* “Sweet Auburn, loveliest village of the plain,’

7 60, -b’ece, this fellow thought that
- would ‘do. first rate for a starter.
=. He wrote to_her:

‘(Sweet Auburn, loveliest of the
plain,’ an b’gee, she wouldn’t speak to
him for a month!’?

Every one joined in the laugh that fol- |

lowed except the Parson; the Parson was

- ARMY AND NAVY

still busily chipping rocks with his
“astrology”? hammer.
~T find nothing,’’? he remarked, foe
tatingly.
fern up in that cleft.
dron of the oe) cannot see it very
clearly.”’
va get it,” observed® ‘Texas. gaily,
“I want to hear the rest of that air name.
Don’t forget the ‘first part—romeo—
romeo what??? — oe

While he was talking Texas had laid —

hold of the projecting cliff and with a
mighty effort swung himself up ona
ledge. ‘Then he raised himself upon his
toes -and ‘sfretched ‘out to. get that
‘*rhododendron.”’
The Patson, gazing up anxiously, saw
him lay hold of the plant to pull it off.
And then, to his surprise, he heard the
Texan give vent to a surprised and ex-
cited ‘‘Durnation !”’
‘“What’s the matter ?’’ cried the others.
Texas was too much interested to an-
swer. ‘T‘hey saw him seize hold of a bush
that grew above him and raise himself
up. Then he pushed aside the plants in
front of him and stared curiously.
“What's the matter?” demanded the

“Lest again.

And Texas gazed down at them ex-
citedly.

‘*‘Durnation!’?
it’s a cave!”’

7 eaves
lously.

By way of answer Texas turned, faced
the rock again, and shouted a mighty
"eho Y”

And to the inexpressible consternation

he roared. ‘‘Pellers:

cried the others incredu-

‘“But I see a most beautiful. =
It is a thododen- Se

of the crowd an echo, loud and clear,

responded:
‘tHello })?
It was a cave.

CHAPTER IE.
MYSTERIES GALORE.

The excitement which resulted from
Texas’
agined.
uim,’’ feet and all, there could not have
been more interest. Texas was dragged

down by the legs, and then there wasa &
wild scramble among the test, the ‘‘in-_

amazing discovery may be im- _
If he had found a ‘‘Megatheri-

 
 

ii a iI

 

it repeated, and

of that.

- blackness.

ARMY AND NAVY — | | 1111

valid’? excepted, to see who could get
up there first and try the echo.

The entrance, it seemed, was a narrow
hole in the rock, completely hidden by a
growth of bushes and plants. And-the
echo! What.an amazing echo it was to be
sure! Not only did it answer clearly, but
muttered again and
again. It took parts of sentences and
twisted them about and made the
strangest possible combinations of sounds.

“Tt must be an enormous cave!’ cried
Mark.

“It has probably fissures to a great dis-
tance,’’ observed the geologist.

“The freaks of water action are numer-
ous.”

*‘T wonder if there’s room for a man to
get in,’? Mark added.

CBE there ain t,”? suggested Texas,
‘‘durnation, we kin force Indian through
to make it bigger. ee

Indian shrank back in horror.

‘‘Ooo!’’ he cried. ‘‘I wouldn’t go near
it for a fortune. Bless my soul, there may
be -bears or snakes.”’

This last suggestion made Dewey, who

-was then peeping in, drop down in a

hurry.

‘‘B’gee!’’ he gasped. ‘‘I hadn’t thought
And who knows but what a hve
Megatherium preserved from the Tertiary
periods may come roaring out?”’

‘‘T wish we had a light,’’ said Mark.
“Then we might look in and see. |
wonder if we couldn’t burn that book the
Parson has ?”’

The Parson hugged his beloved Dana
in alarm.

‘‘Gentleman,’’ ‘he said,’ severely, ‘‘I
would rather you burned me than this
book, ”?

“B gece!’ cried Dewey. “You're most
as dry! But a fellow couldn’t find a
match for you, Parson, if he hunted from
now till doomsday.”’

Parson Stanard turned away with the
grieved look he always wore when people
got ‘‘frivolous.’’ But that mood did not
last long; they were all too excited in

their strange find to continue joking.

They spent half an hour after that peér-
ing in cautiously and seeing nothing but
Texas even had the nerve to
stick one arm in, at which the rest cried

out in horror. Indian’s direful hint of -
snakes or bears had had its effect.

It took no small amount of daring to
foo] about that mysterious black hole.
Dewey, ever merry and. teasing, was
keeping them all on pins and needles by
being ceaselessly reminded of grisly
yarns. He told of a cave that was full of
rattlesnakes, ‘‘assorted sizes, all genuine
and no two alike, b’gee!’’ Of another
that had been a robber’s den with great
red faced furious black villains in it, to
say nothing of gleaming daggers. Of an-
other with pitfalls- with water in them
and no bottom, ‘‘though why the water
didn’t leak out of where the bottom
wasn’t, b’gee, I’m not able to say.”’

It got to be very monotonous by and
by, standing about in idleness and curi-
osity, peeping and wondering what was
inside.

“T think it would be a good idea for
some one to go inand find out,’’ sug-
gested Mark.

‘*Bless my soul 1)” gasped indian.
won’t, for one.

“And I for two, b’gee!’’ said Dewey,
with especial emphasis.

The rest were just as hasty to decline. .
One look at that black hole was enough
to deter any one. But Mark, getting
more and more impatient at the delay,
more and more resolved to end that mys-
tery, was slowly making up his mind that

he was not going to be deterred. And
suddenly he stepped forward.
‘‘Give me a ‘boost,’ ’’ he said. ‘‘I’m

going in.’?

“Vou! echoed the six, in a breath.
CYour arm.’

‘‘T don’t care!’’ responded he, with
decision. ‘‘I’m going to find out what’s
inside, and I’m going to hurry up about
if, too.” ?

“(Do you mean you’re going to crawl
through that hole?’

‘’That’s just what I-do,’’ he said.

Texas sprang forward with an excited
‘**Durnation.”? ;

“(Vou ain't!’ he cried. . ‘‘Cuz Pm not

going to let you!”’

And before Mark could comprehend
what he meant his devoted friend had
swung himself up to the ledge again and
was already half way in through the
opening.
=

Alo

 

- The others stared up at him anxiously.
They saw the Southerner’s arms and head

_ vanish, and then while they waited pre-

e

mg

muffled voice.

pared for almost anything horrible, they
heard an excited exclamation. A qoent

-Jater the head reappeared.

“‘Doggone it!’ cried Texas.
there’s a ladder in thar!’
‘CA Jadder!? .

‘Yes, sah!- That’s what:I said,:a lad-
der! A rope one!’?

Once more the head disappeared ;
body followed wriggling. Then with
startling suddenness the feet and legs
flew in and an instant afterward to the
horror of the frightened crowd there was
a heavy crash. —

Mark made a leap for the opening.

‘“What’s the matter ?’’ he cried.

‘*Durnation!’? they heard the bold
Texan growl, his voice sounding hollow
and muffled. ‘‘The durnation ole ladder
busted.”

**Ooo!””
dead ?”’

Texas did not condescend to answer
that. -

‘*Some o? you fellers come in ee
now!’’ he roared. ‘‘Durnation, I ain’t a-
goin’ to stay alone.” _

“What’s it like in there ?? inquired
Mark.

er tan t- see,’
‘*Only it’s-a floor like, an’
doggone it, it’s got carpet!?

"SA carpet!’ fairly sore those out-
side, ‘'A carpet!”

‘Pm going in and see,’’ exclaimed
Mark. ‘‘Help me:up.”’

The rest ‘‘boosted’? him with a will.

‘*Fellers,

gasped» Indian. -‘‘Are you

With his one free’ arm he managed to

- through.

worm his way through the opening and
then Texas seized him and pulled him

with alactity. Even Indian finally got up
the ‘nerve,’ though loudly bemoaning
his fate ; be didn’t want to come, but it
was worse out there all alone in the
woods.

Coming i in from the brilliant cians
the were blind as bats.
detect the faintest shade of difference in
the darkness, and they stood huddled to-
gether timidly, not even daring to grope
about them.

‘“Let us remove ourselves further from

ARMY AND NAVY

the

answered the other’s

After that the others followed:

They could not.

the: ioht,” eGaesiar the Pea ever
‘“Then we may get used io the —-

learned.
darkness, for the retina of the visual
organ has the power of accommodating
itself to a decrease in intensity of | He
illuminating——”’

They prepared to obey the suppestion, :
without waiting for the conclusion of the ©

discourse. But moving in that chasm was
indeed a fearful task. In the first place

_ there were possible wells, so the Parson
said, though the présence of the inysteri-

ous carpet made that improbable. The

first thing Mark had done when he
reached bottom was to stoop and verify
And he. ==

his friend’s amazing statement.
found that was just as the other had said.
There was carpet, and it. wasa soft fine
carpet too.

What that could mean Mey scarcely
dared to think.

‘Somebody must live ee ”? whispered
Mark. ‘‘And they can hardly be honest
people, hiding in a place like this.’

That did not tend to make the moving
about any more pleasant.
hold of each other,
little comfort in that, for each found ‘that
his neighbors were trembling more than
he. Then step by step (and very small
steps) they advanced, groping in front
with their hands, and feeling the ground

in front of them with their feet.

‘‘Bless) my soul!?? gasped Indian,

‘“There ‘might be a trap door!”

That grewsome and ghastly suggestion |

caused so much terror that it stopped all
further progress fora minute at least, and

when finally they did go on, it was with ~
thumping

still more and

hearts.

frightened

_ They took two or three more steps
ahead ;
was a trifle in the lead, sprang back with é

and then suddenly Mark, who

@ ery.
“What is it?’ gasped the rest.
‘“There’s something there,’’ he said.

‘‘Something, 1 don’t know what: I

touched it!’ 3
They stood in a huddled group, strain-

ing their eyes to pierce the darkness. «. It

was horrible to know that something was

there, and not to know what. Owe might
imagine anything. ee
“It's a Megatherium,”’

Dewey, irrepressible even here.

They caught —
though there was

whispered oe

 

    

 

 

 

i

OD
£ sr Crs

   
  
 

es

—_

a ecenrmn.

ae

ee ees
ee

poser 2 aad =
2 OS a %
eran oe ae

ei A a OR

 

 

 

“In the suspense that followed the
’ frightened crowd. made out that Mark was
Jeaning forward to explore with one hand.
And then suddenly with a cry-of real
horror this time he forced them back
= + *'It's alive!’ he cried. —
. ‘They were about ready to drop dead

ARMY AND NAVY:

   

ZT
Heaven only knew what else. Most men
do not believe in ghosts or goblins until
they get into just some situation as this.

Indian was moaning in terror most ap-
palling, and the ‘rest were in but little
better state of mind. And then suddenly
the Parson uttered a subdued exclama-
tion. They turned with him and saw

 

MARK’S TREMBLING HAND WAS POINTING DIRECTLY TOWARD THE SKELETONS (page 1116.)

with terror by that time, or to scatter
,and run for their lives. Every one of
them was wishing he had never thought
of entering this gruesome black place,
with its awful mysteries, its possibilities
of fierce beasts. or still more fierce and
lawless men, or ghosts and goblins, or

made things worse. The seven saw all ~

  

what he meant. Facing the darkness as
they had been, when they turned in the
direction of the light that streamed in
from the opening, they found that they —
really cotfld begin to see. But how? The
light was. so dim and gray that it only

 

   
 

     

   

“THe

 

kinds of horrible shadows about them,
above them, beneath them, and not one
single object could they distinguish to
allay their fears.

- Still huddled together, still silent and
trembling, they stood and gazed about
them, waiting. There was not a sound
but the beating of their own hearts until
all of a sudden Dewey was heard to
whisper.

“‘B’gee, I’ve got a match!”

Fumbling in his pockets for a moment
he brought that precious object out, while
the others crowded about him anxiously.
A match! A match! They could hardly
believe their ears.. Robinson Crusoe
never welcomed that tiny object more
gratefully.

With fear and trembling Dewey pre-
pared to light it.
dreaded the moment; horrible though the
darkness was, it might be a black shroud
for yet more horrible things.

Mark caught him by the arm just as he
_ was in the act of doing it; but it was not

for that reason. He suggested that they
have papers ready to keep that precious
fire going. It was a good idea, and proved
so popular that the Parson, filled with a
spirit of self-sacrifice, even tore out the

title page of his Dana to contribute. And .

then at last Dewey struck the light.

The match was a good one fortunately.
It flickered and sputtered a_ moment,
seeming to hesitate about burning, while
the lads gasped in suspense. Then sud-
denly it flared up brightly, and they gazed
about them in dread.

CHAPTER IV.

A HORRIBLE DISCOVERY.

What a lot of gruesomeness a little
match can remove, to be sure! ‘This one
_ did. not solve the mysteries of that won-
drous cave, but it removed most of the
horror of the explorers. It showed for
instance that the furry thing which Mark
had vowed was alive was an ordinary
-plush-covered chair!

The seven had no time to laugh at
that; they were too busy staring. The
feeble light could not reach to the other

ARMY AND

Every one of them .

end of the long vista. they oy and =

NAVY |
neither could one of ie papers he”

hastily lit. But it gave them one glimpse —

of a most amazing scene.

This cave was indeed a surprising
place. The carpet they saw covered
neatly all of the floor. There were chairs
scattered about, and other articles of
furniture. There were some curtains

draped from the rocky walls. There were-
swinging lamps from the vaulted roof.

Down in the dim distance there was even
a table—a table with shining white dishes
upon it.
flicker.

Quick as a flash Mark seized it and
He was
He whipped off the shade ~
A moment later |
they were standing in a brilliant clear

sprang toward one of the lamps.
just in time.
and touched the wick.

light that shone to the farthest depths of
the place.

The seven bold -plebes stood in iis
centre beneath the lamp, perfectly amazed
by what they saw. The same idea was
flashing across the minds of all of them.
This splendor must belong to some one!
Those dishes up there were set for a
meal !.

the opening that led to freedom outside.
Probably the wisest course for them

would have been precipitate flight. To

be trapped in here by desperate men
would be terrible indeed! But curiosity
urged them on. ‘This was a glorious
mystery—a mystery worth solving. It
was almost a fairy tale; an enchanted
princess alone was needed. e

Now whether they would have been
bold enough to stay and look about them,
had it not been for one occurrence, it is
impossible to say. ‘Texas, glancing curi-
ously about him, caught sight of a
familiar object on a bench to one side,
and he leaped forward and seized it.
He stared at it hastily and gavea cry. of
joy.

It was a revolver! A forty-four calibre,
and it was loaded, too!

No power on earth could have moved

Texas then; he had a gun; he was-at .

home after that, and he feared neither
man nor devil.

“Let ’en come!” he ered.
goin’ to look.’? Bere

(Pm as

And then the light began to

And the owner—where was he?
Suppose he shuuld come and find them ,
there? Indian cast a longing glance at,

    
   
   
    
  
 
 
   
    
     
   
  
  
 
 
  

   
   
   
   
  
 
   
   

(orem

 
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
  
  

 
 
    
i)
wy

i

5

ee

 

—
ae 2

_ Dewey.

He strode forward, Mark at his side,
and the rest following, peering into every
nook and cranny.

One thing seemed certain. There was
no one about. The cave had all sorts of
passageways and corners, but hunt as
they would they saw not a soul, heard
nota sound. The place was like a tomb:
It was just as silent and wierd and un-
canny, and moreover just as mouldy and
dusty as the tomb is supposed to be.

Mark examined the table with its queer
outlay of dishes. They were all covered

with dust; several had tops, and when

Mark lifted them he found that they too
were empty but for that. It seemed as if
dust were everywhere.

. Mark was recalled from his interesting
exploration by an excited ‘‘B’gee!’’ from
Dewey was staring at the wall,
and as the others ran up to him he pointed
without a word in front of him. ‘There
was a calendar hanging there. And plain
as day, the inscription was still—‘‘Tues-
day, May the eighteenth, eighteen hun-
dred and forty-eight!’ ~

The seven were too mystified by that
to say a word. They stared at each other
in silence, and then went on.

The next thing to attract their atten-
tion was a long workbench at one side.

2

- Mark wondered how that thing could

ever have come in by the opening, until
he saw a box of tools at one side, which
suggested that it might have been built
inside. ‘There were all sorts of strange
looking toois upon the bench, and molds
and dies and instruments which none of
them recognized. Near by was a forge
and a small pair of bellows, a rot of once
molten metal, now cold and dust-covered,
stood beside it; there were bars, too, of
what the puzzled crowd took to be lead.
It was left to the all-wise Parson to
discover what this meant. ‘che Parson
picked up one of the dies he saw upon
the table. He gazed at it curiously, blow-
ing away the dust and cleaning the metal.
Then, muttering to himseif excitedly, he
stepped over to one side of the cave where
soft clay was the floor and seizing some,
pressed itinto the mold. He held it be-

fore his horrified companions, a perfect
image of the United States. half dollar;
and he spoke but two words of explana-
tion.

a

ARMY AND NAVY ~

  
  

s

1115
he

‘Gentlemen, ’’ ‘‘counter-
feiters!’? :

The amount of excitement which that
caused may be readily imagined. A
counterfeiter’s den! And they were in it!
Texas clutched his revolver the tighter
and stared about him warily. As for
poor Indian, he simply sat down upon

the floor and collapsed.

‘Fellows,’ said Mark at: last. ‘I say
we finish examining this place and get
out. 1 don’t like rt.”’

None of them did, and they did not
hesitate to say so, either. Nothing but
curiosity, and the fact that they were
ashamed to show their fear, kept them
from running for all they were worth. As
it was, their advance was timid and hesi-
tating.

They were almost at the end of the
cave then. ‘They could see the walls
sloping together and the ceiling sloping
down toward the floor. The light of the
lamp was far away and dim then, and
they could not see very clearly. But one
thing they did make out to their surprise
and alarm. ‘The end of that cave was a
heavy iron door, shut tight!

There was but one idea flashed over
the minds of every one in the seven at
that moment. The money! Here was

said,

“where the- men kept it, in that firmly

locked safe.

‘*B’gee!’? muttered Dewey.
go back.”?

Most of them wanted to, and in a
hutry. But there were two of them that
didn’t mean to; one was the venturesome
and reckless Texas, and the other was
Mark.

‘I’m sorry I came in,’’ said the latter
calmly. ‘‘But since I’m here I’m _ going
to see the thing to the end. I’m going to
search this cave and find out what the
whole business means. Who’ll help me
open that door >?’’

The Seven Devils weren’t timid by a
long shot. They had dared more desper-
ate deeds than any plebes West Point had
ever seen. But in this black hole of
mystery suggestive of desperate criminals
and no one knew what. else, it was no
wonder that they hesitated. There was
no one but Texas cared to venture near
that shadowy door.

Mark himself was by no means as cool

**I say we

 

 

  
 

“1116

as he seemed. He tad amade up his mind
to explore the cave, and he meant to do
“it, but he chose to hurry all the same.
He stepped quickly forward, peering
anxiously into the shadows as he did so.
And aimoment later his hand was upon
the door knob.

He shook it vigorously, but found that

it was firmly set. It reminded him of the
door of a safe, for it had a-solid, heavy
‘‘feel’’? and it closed with a spring lock,
having no key. Mark noticed that as he
was debating with himself whether or not
to open it; and then suddenly he gave
the knob a mighty wrench and pulled
with all his might upon the door. ;

The knob was rusty, and so were the
complicated hinges. The door finally
gave way, however, with a creak that
was dismal and suggestive. The others
shrank back instinctively as the black
space it disclosed yawned in front of
them.

Mark’s heart was beating furiously as
he glanced around to peerin. A musty,

close odor caught his attention, and then
as the faint light made its way in, he saw
that beyond was. still another compart-
ment, seemingly blacker, and certainly
more mysterious than the first. But Mark
hesitated not a moment; he had made of
his mind to enter and he did. Texas,
who was at his back, taking hold of the
door to hold it.

Those outside waited for but one mo-

ment, a moment of anxious suspense and

dread. They had seen their leader’s figure -

vavish, swallowed up in the blackness of
the place. They were wondering, trem-
_blingly, as to what the result would be;
and then suddenly came a result so terri-
ble and unexpected that it nearly knocked
them down. It was a scream, a wild
shriek of horror, and 1t came from Mark!

The six outside gazed at each other,
feady. to. faint from fright; ‘Texas,
startled, too, by the weirdness of the tone,
sprang back involuntarily. And in an in-

back, was Mark;

-kRMY AND NAVY = = ea

stant the heavy iron door, released ee

his hand, swung inward and slammed
with a dismal clang that rung and echoed
down the long vaulted cave.

The noise was succeeded by a ae
that was yet more terrible; not another

sound came from Mark, to tell that-he
was alive or what. 7
stant, paralyzed with fright, the horror-
stricken cadets stood motionless, staring
blankly at the glistening door. And then
Texas sprang forward to the rescue. He
seized the knob furiously, and tearing at
the barrier with all his strength, flung it
wide open.

‘‘Come on!” he cried.

Texas was clutching the revolver, a
desperate look upon his face; the others,

horrified though they were, sprang for-—

ward to his side ready to dare a
for the sake of Mark.

But there was no need of their cee =
_ing. Asthe light shone in the whole

scene was plainly in view. And the six
stared with ever increasing awe. Leaning

against the wall where he had staggered ©
his face was white as a

sheet; one trembling hand was raised,
pointing across the compartment. And

the rest followed the direction with their

eyes, and then started back in no less ~

horror, their faces even paler than his.
Lying flat upon the floor, shining out in
the blackness white and distinct and
ghastly, their hollow eyes fixed in a
death stare upon the roof, were six horri-
ble grinning skeletons.

Awe stricken,
stood motionless, gazing upoe. the scene.
They were too dumbfounded to say a
word, almost to think.
denly as one man moved by a single im-
pulse, they faced about and stole silently
out of the place. The iron door clanged
once more, and then, still silent, the

plebes marched in Indian file down the
long corridor to where the
helped

streamed in; each other out

And for just an in- |

““Rollow me!”

those reckless plebes

sunlight

And then sud--~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
|
|

=

 

through the narrow opening; and finally,
free at last, drew a long breath of inex-

-pressible relief under the clear blue sky

of heaven.

“It was some minutes after that even,
before they said a word. Finally Mark
spoke.

“Rellows:’’ he said, ‘‘there’s a inys-
tery. Who can solve it?”
The Parson heaved a sigh and raised

“his voice.

‘There were once,’’? he began, ‘‘six
counterfeiters, who did their work in-a
lonely cave. ‘That cave had two entrances,
one of which we know of.”’

‘‘And the other,’’ added Mark, adopt-
ing his friends peculiar method of hazard-
ing a guess, ‘‘the other lies at the end of
the passageway through the door.”

‘(And the door was put there,’’ con-
tinued the Parson, ‘‘because the other
entrance was exposed, I should say, be-
cause they feared some one might find it
and find them. Subsequently, perhaps,
that entrance was blocked, and then ?”’

‘(And then,’’? said Mark, ‘‘they were
caught in their own trap. That door
slammed on them as it did on me. And

they have gone to answer for their crimes

-—starved.’
“‘No,’? corrected the Parson, gravely.

   

 

{RMY AND NAVY 1117

‘‘Suffocated. And that is all. Let us go
home.’?’ .

Still awe-stricken and silent, the rest
arose and started to follow him. But sud-
denly ‘Texas, the excitable irrelevant
Texas, stopped and began to gasp.

“‘Durnation !’’ he cried. ‘‘Fellers——”’

ONAL 1S 102)? ce

“Tye know I never thought of it!
That air cave is our’n!”?

‘“How do you mean ?”’

‘(There ain’t anyone else to own it,
that’s what I mean. An’ ef ever we want
a place to:hidein—-—”’

“Or to haze yearlings in!”’ gasped
Dewey.

‘Or to have any kind of fun in!’’ cried
Mark.

‘“‘Durnation, we’ve got it!’ roared
Texas, finishing the sentence for them.

The seven were staring at each other,
their eyes fairly dancing with delight.
And suddenly Mark sprang forward.

‘‘Rellows,’’ he cried. ‘‘Fellows, I say,
three cheers for

‘The Seven Devil’s Den!”’
[THE END. |

Lieutenant Frederick Garrison’s next
West Point story will be entitled ‘‘Mark
Mallory’s Treasure, or, A Midnight Hunt
for Gold.”’

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

  

Te

 

ce

Clif Faraday’ s Deliverance.

    
 

AN ADVENTURE IN MADEIRA.

 

CHAPTER I.

A QUARREL WITH AN. OLD ENEMY.

‘*Hooray! Whoop! Look out of the
way | 1)

The streets of Madeira had never seen
such a sight in their history; the lazy in-
habitants of the town opened their eyes
in surprise and stared.

The cause of all the excitement was a

group of lads wearing the uniform of

cadets in the Annapolis Naval Academy.
They were from the practice ship Monon-
gahela, anchored in the bay. “They were
on shore leave just then, and bent on
having all the fun they knew how; in-
cidentally, they were anxious to show
the citizens of Madeira what a pile of
noise and fun a Yankee boy can hold.

Somehow they had gotten hold of one of
the heavy sledges which are so character-
istic of the place. Wagons in Madeira do
not have wheels, but are dragged along
the ground by oxen after the fashion of a
sleigh when there is no snow. The oxen
are sleepy creatures enough, but in this
case they had been goaded to madness by
the yells and blows of the cadets, and
were galloping down the street in great
style.

The wagon contained several casks of
wine, which were dancing about like so
many straws. And the owner of the cart,
a heavy, good-natured negro, who was

 

evidently being well paid for his apathy,

sat on one of them and said nothing while -

the cadets drove the -vehicle flying down
the street. .

‘Hooray! Whoop! Look out of the
way!’ :

Not all of the cadets were joining in
that celebration, however; considering the
intense heat of that tropical sun the ones
who looked on were by far the more
sensible. Among these were three with
whom we have to deal.

They were walking along in the shade
as the party clattered by. The tallest of
them was a handsome youth with a
frank, pleasing face and curly brown
hair. He was a member of the plebe
class, our old friend Clif Faraday. Next

to him was a sinaller iad, Clif’s warmest

friend and admirer, popularly known as
‘*Nanny ’’ Gote. The third was a dark
lad with a countenance that distinctly
told his nationality, which was Japanese.

Motohiko Asaki was his name; it had >

been shortened to Motor, and thence to
Trolley. ‘‘Trolley’’ was a lad with a pas-
sion for American slang with all its in-
comprehensible mysteries.

‘“There’s our ol¢c friend the plebe
deviler,’” remarked Clif, pointing to one
of the foremost and most noisy of the
party, the one who was wielding the
whip. ‘‘Cadet Corporal Sharp seems to -
enjoying himself.’’

= —s

=

es

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

SN ee Ta nage ae

ARMY AND NAVY . . 1119

“fYes,’’? chuckled iittle Nanny. ‘‘He
seems to have found some one he can
Deat at last.”

**Him no beat Clif,’? observed Trolley,
gazing at his friend proudly. ‘‘Him big

bully—no good—N. G., as you boys say.

No smash any ice.”’

Trolley smiled placidly at himself,
having thus rendered his opinion in
choice. Americans idiom. His’ friends
smiled at him too.

Cadet Corporal Sharp, to whom they
were alluding thus harshly, was a yearl-
ing who had made it his especial business

to torment the plebes, Clif Faraday among

them. Having been foiled once or twice,
and moreover soundly thrashed by the
latter in a fair fight, he was now very
meek and inoffensive. But Clif, who
knew the yearling’s vindictive and rather

cowardly nature was sure that the affair

i

was not yet at an end.

The party on the wagon had vanished
in a cloud of dust by this time, and the
three went on down the street, gazing
curiously at the shops and the peeple of

_the place. Madeira is a Portuguese col-

ony. The island is practically a tall
mountain *rising out of the sea. The
queer old town is built on the shore, and

‘its narrow streets end by running up the

hillside.

The plebes went on without turning
until they were at the outskirts of the
town. ‘There is a natural curiosity there
which no stranger fails to visit—a spout-

ing rock. The noise of it may be heard

distinctly from the town, and the cadets
had noticed it the first. thing when the
training ship entered the harbor. A
spouting rock is a perfectly simple for-
mation. A careful observer inay notice it
in miniature along any rocky coast. A
narrow cleft in the rocks, inte which each
wave rushes; and then a little upward
slope that turns the wave into a fountain.

Clif Faraday was not destined to see
that. rock, however. He and his two

friends came upon a sight a few moments
later which drove all ideas of scenery from
their minds.
It was the third classmen and their
load of wine again. They had come to
grief. The cart had struck a snag, and

“going at the rate it was its contents, the

casks, had been scattered helter skelter.
Some.of the cadets looked as if they too
had been sliding along the road.

It was in a lonely part of the town and
there was not a soul near to observe what.
was going on. The negro had gone away,
probably to get a new cart; and as for
the cadets, they were waiting and inci-
dentally amusing themselves as best they
could. They were sitting under a shady
tree. One of the casks had sprung a-leak,
and concluding that it was a shame to
waste the wine, the crowd had proceeded
to regale themselves, ad lib. It was very
good wine—Madeira—and besides there
was no one to see them. The plebes they
did not observe.

No one must get an idea that it is the
habit of Annapolis cadets to carry on in
that way. ‘That this crowd was led by
Corporal Sharp is sufficient evidence to
prove that they formed the lower element
of the class. This fact accounts for their
bchavior, their hilarious condition at the
moment and what: took place a minute
later as well.

Clif and his friends were so busy
watching the by no means edifying scene
that they failed to notice a person who
was hurrying down the road from the ~
opposite direction. Corporal Sharp did,
however, and he sprang up suddenly.

‘Tove!’ he exclaimed. *‘Look there!”

His companions turned suddenly; the
three plebes looked too. The figure was
that of a girl, and a prettier girl no one
of them had ever seen before. ‘To meet
such a stranger along. this lonely road
was indeed a pleasant surprise, and Cor-
poral Sharp stared curiously. The girl -
was a typical Portuguese beauty, at the |

   

 
 

1120 = oo | Rey AN Navy

age when Porenp ies women are most
beautiful. Her complexion was rich and
brilliant, and her hair and eyes black as
night. She had a quiet grace and an air
of refinement about her, and she shrank
instinctively to the other side of the road

as she noticed the SAE group by the

casks of wine.
Corporal Sharp was jaflamed with drink

though, for that matter he was never any-
Quick asa wink he -

thing but a ruffian.
Sprang up and placed himself directly in
‘the path of the passing girl.

_ Naturally she stopped and started back,
‘with a cry of alarm. ‘The cadet officer
taised his hat and bowed witha leer. _

‘*Good afternoon, ees bey Sindy
[ee »» Es :

“How dare you!’’ gasped the girl,
speaking in English; her cheeks were
burning with indignation.

By way of answer the cadet leaned for-
ward and stretching out his hand, famil-
- iarly ‘“‘chucked’’ the girl under the chin.
She screamed; Corporal Sharp laughed
and stepped toward her. ‘The next in-

stant he found himself. seized violently
by the collar and hurled head over heels
into the ditch at the side of the road.

He rose up fairly blazing with anger;
_ he seized a heavy rock and whirled about.

He flung back his arm—but then sudden-
ly he stopped. It was Clif Faraday who
was facing him, cool and smiling. Clif
had once soundly thrashed the yearling,
as we have said; and somehow, though
he was blind with fury, the corpora;
knew his master and he dared not hur]
the missile. Instead he glared and fell to
blustering.

“ “Confound you!’’ he snarled. ‘‘Why

do you have to be meddling in my _

affairs???

To. that, of course, Clif said nothing,
He eyed the fellow with a look of con-
tempt that was all the more cutting be-
- cause it was silent and deserved. :
ee this time the angry companions of

 

the outraged cadet oteer an rushed to

his aid. They ranged themselves at his

back, shouting for vengeance. Nanny

and Trolley were at Clif’s side, and thus :

the two groups stood menacing each

- other, the terrified girl in between therm.

The thing looked dark for the plebes,
for there were half a dozen of Corporal
Sharp’s gang, and they all hated Clif
worse than poison.

stones in their hands. Nanny and the

Jap were like midgets beside them, but.

they stuck gamely by Clif, who never
once ceased to smile in scorn.

The whole thing was stopped just there
most fortunately. Before a blow could be
struck one of the contestants chanced to
glance down the street, and a moment
later he whispered: :

‘“Ouick! Quick! An officer!”

Like a flash the crowd turned and fled
wildly away, asa blue uniform appeared
round a turn in the road. Nanny and
Trolley took to their heels also, and no
one remained but Clif. Clif had done
nothing to be ashamed of and he knew it,
and, therefore, he did not mean ta hide.
He looked the officer, a lieutenant,
squarely in the.eye as he passed, and
saluted him.. The officer gave a quick
and surprised glance at the beautiful girl
the plebe was with, but he said nothing,
and without even seeing the wine cask
went on down the road.

Clif gazed about him anxiously after
the lieutenant was out of sight, but not a
sign of his assailants could he see.

‘‘A fortunate deliverance,’’? he re-
marked, and then turned to the girl, who
was gazing at him in unconcealed admir-

_ation. Clif bowed and raised his hat.

‘‘T am very sorry that this happened,’’ —
‘‘T am ashamed of my class- —

said he.

mates. I will promise you to give that >= _
fellow a good thrashing by way of punish-
ment. They will not trouble you any Blk es
more now.”’ ot

They had sticks and ee

 

 

 

:
i

i
i
i

i
t

————

ners: eae

ee
 

 

so ——
SS

y

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   
  
  

ARMY AND NAVY

The girl glanced around her anxiously,
with a look of uncertain dread.

7 ido not know, she said. (‘lam
afraid of them. I think I shall have to go
back home.”’

‘‘Where were you going?’ inquired
Clif, politely. ‘‘If you will allow me to
escort you there, I am sure they will not
molest you. That fellow is a coward ex-
cept when he is very angry.”’

The girl accepted Clif’s offer frankly,
and the two started down the path. As

   

1121
back and felt himself flung head first
into a slimy pool of water at the road side.
When he got up again his assailants |
were gone, and there was not a soul near
but the terrified girl.
‘It was the same fellow,’’ said she.

CHAPTER “Hi:
THR PLOT OF AN ENEMY.

We must leave them standing there
_and turn our attention to two other meim-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CLIFF SMILED GRIMLY AS HE CONFRONTED CADET CORPORAL SHARP (page 1120).

he said, he did not. expéct’.to.see ‘the
third class cadets again, and he was con-
vetsing merrily with the girl, rather
congratulating himself on his luck.

Clif was mistaken, though, about the
cadets, for they had not gone. To make
a long story short, they were hiding an
glaring at him-enviously, ~~ -

_A-few moments later, as he was passing
through a thick wood on his way back
to town, he heard a quick step at his

g

bers of the plebe class, cadets who hav
not as yet appeared in this story. ‘The
are Judson Greene and Chris Spendly
Clif Faraday’s worst enemies on earth.
The hatred of these two friends for Cli
had begun with their rivalry for a cade
ship at Annapolis. It had beer kept u
by the two by all imaginable kinds a
petty annovances and more despera
efforts to get Clif. expelled.. It had gon
so far that Judson Greene had once aj

  

 
 

  

1122

    

ent moment the two were looking for
nothing quite so much as a chance to ruin
their hated rival by any means in their
power.

That they were witnesses of the quarrel
between Corporal Sharp and Clif was sus-
pected by no one. ‘The two’ had been
tramping about the country and were just
on the point of coming out upon the road
when the first encounter took place,
They saw the officer approach, and they
watched with unconcealed tage and
hatred their enemy walk away with that
beautiful girl, Judson and Chris had fol-
lowed behind. They were glad they had
done so a while later, for they had the
supreme satisfaction of watching the
second cowardly attack.

One thing else the two saw. They
watched Clif as he got up and scraped
the mire from his handsome uniform ;
gazing about him in a vain effort to see
where his assailants had gone. Clif did
mot usually show his anger; but at that
moment his face, as far as it was visible,
was such a picture of indignation that the
Ewo watchers shrank back in alarm. It
as still so when he turned away with
he girl, leaving them to make their way
back to town, speculating as they went
oncerning their rival’s unusual behavior.

“Vl bet he’s going to make it hot for
he corporal,’’ chuckled Spendly. ‘‘Jove!
| guess Faraday would like to murder
him to-day.”?

Spendly had made that remark quite
asually, without thinking exactly of
what he had been saying. ‘There was a
moment’s silence after it and then sud-
lenly Judson turned and stared at his
ompanion with a look of inspiration
pon his face.

‘‘By the lord!” he cried.

Spendly stopped short in his tracks and
azed at him in amazement.

“What the dickens is the matter with
ou??? he demanded.

“Don’t you see what I mean?’ almost
1outed Judson.

‘No, confound you, of course I don’t!”
esponded the other, rather sharply.
How should J?’

“Well, you’re a fool if you don’t!” re-
btted Judson, with no_ less asperity.
Don’t be a bigger fool and get mad,’’ he

   
     
    
   
 
     
  
   
  
    
     
  
  
   
 
   
    
  
    
   
  
  
   
  
   
    
  
  
   
  
      
   
 
  
  
     
  
   
 
   
  
   
  
   
    
  
  

 

 

ARMY AND NAVY ©
tempted Clif Faraday’slife. At the pres-.

added, as he noticed his comrade flush.

“You needn’t be so brutally frank,??
retorted Spendly, angrily. ‘I’m not”

Oh, rats!’ cried Judson, impatient
at the delay. He was too excited at his
idea to waste any time quarreling,

‘Look here,’? he began hurriedly,
‘‘Spendly, Faraday hates Sharp like the
very deuce, and all the class knows it.”

‘“What of that???

“What? Simply this. Sharp has
treated us like a brute, and I hate the
very ground he walks on. Now here’s our |
chance to get even? Don’t you see it,
man? If anything should happen to
Sharp to-day it would be blamed on
Faraday!’

In an instant all idea of being angry
had been whirled out of Spendly’s mind.
He saw the plot. It was an inspiration !
And he turned and seized his friend by
the hand and fairly shouted for joy,

“By heaven, old man!’ he’ cried
‘‘We’ve got our chance at last. Good
Lord, what a chance this is!??

The two lost not a moment in making
up a plan. They were so excited and
eager that they really forgot where they
were. ‘They had reached the town again
and were hurrying along the street be-
fore they half realized it. They were still
talking and whispering, suggesting one
thing after another, when suddenly they
chanced to catch sight of the very man
they were talking about, Cadet Corporal
Sharp.

Judson seized his friend eagerly by the
arm.

‘Look! look!’ he cried, _ ‘There he
goes now! Let’s follow him and think up
something to do.’?

They turned promptly and set out be-
hind the party. It was Sharp and his
gang, the same ones who had attacked
Faraday. They were hunting about then
for some new diversion, for the wine they
had drunk had gotten them wild and ex-
cited. They had not ‘the least suspicion
of the two plebes who were warily follow-
ing at a distance.

It was then about two o’clock in the
afternoon. Judson Greene and Chris
Spendly followed the crowd about the
town for at least two hours without. hit-
ting on any plan. But their patience was

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ARMY AND NAVY 1123

rewarded at last; they found their oppor-
tunity.

Half way upon the mountain which,
as stated before, forms the island of
Madiera, stands an old monastery. This
place is one of the ‘‘show places’’ of the
town. Every one who goes to Madeira
goes to that monastery, more especially
because of the ride down, which is about
as exciting an adventure as most people
ever meet with. There is a little railroad
running down the hill side, and cars
upon it resembling ‘‘hand-cars.’? ‘There
is aman to tun the car, and though he
keeps the brakes on all the way down,
even then the speed of the descent makes
one nervous.

Corporal Sharp went up to see the
monastery. The two vindictive plebes
still at his heles. The plebes were soon
to get the long looked-for chance.

They heard the cadet corporal talking

‘to the ran about riding down. ‘Then the

party strolled away to look around them

and the two, who were skulking in the»

bushes, gazed at each other nervously.

“‘Our time has come,’’ said Judson.

Spendly knew just what he meant, but
he trembled as he thought of it.

**¥ don’t—I——’? he began, hesi-
tatingly.

“Go to thunder!’’ snarled Judson
angrily; he was by this time fairly swept
off his feet with passion, seeing at last a
chance to revenge himself, not only upon
the hated corporal, but upon Faraday as
well.

Judson did not feel like wasting any
time talking with his companion. ‘That
gang might come back any moment, and
then it would be too late.

‘*You stay there,’’? he snarled, ‘‘and
keep quiet. I'll see to this.’

He hurried rapidly out of the woods
and approached the car. The man was
lying flat upon his back some distance off,
and there was no one else watching.
Judson saw that the coast was clear, and
he went boldly to work. He picked upa
stick of wood and crawled under the car;
he had fully decided what to do and so
there was no time wasted in thinking.

He reappeared half a minute later
flushed and nervous. He stood up and
gazed about him. At the same moment
to his horror he saw the man who ran

~ \
-)

Easiest sae eGR Si ue sa ine das

the car raise his head and look at him; ,
Judson turned and hurried away, trem-
bling in every limb. ‘The horrible deed
was done; but the only thing that wor-
ried the doer was the fear that the man-
might have become suspicious.

What followed after- that Judson did
not see, but his friend Spendly watched
it from his hiding-place. The man had
not become suspicious—in fact he had
scarcely noticed the plebe, though he.
afterward remembered having seen him.
There was absolutely nothing to frustrate
the scheme of the murderous lack

The whole thing happened with such
horrible swiftness when once it got
started that Spendly scarcely realized it.
The merry lads came out of the building,
and as if realizing the deadly peril that
was in store for them and resolved to have
it over with at once, they made straight
for the car. At the same time the lazy
fellow who was to run it got up from the
ground and joined them, ready for this,
his last trip upon that car.

Spendly was watching them with
staring eyes and trembling limbs. He
felt impelled to spring up and shout out
a warning, but he hesitated for one in-
stant, and the next instant it was too late.
The active lads had sprung aboard, the
man had released the car, and away they
went.

The incline was slight for the first few
yards, but the car was heavily loaded and
it gathered speed as it went. Faster and
faster it seemed to leap ahead; the cool
breeze began to blow in the faces of the
eager cadets, the rapid clatter of the
wheels upon the track grew yet more
rapid, fast increasing to a whir.

Corporal Sharp was standing up in
front, in the bow, he laughingly called
it. His hair was blowing about his cheeks
and his coat waving out behind. He flung
his cap into the air and shouted merrily
for three cheers.

Just at that moment the ‘‘steersman”’ _

concluded to put on the brakes. He~
reached for the -lever and jammed it
down. To his horror it stuck fast. Again
and again with increasing desperation he
pressed on it, flung all his weight against
it, while the car leaped on faster and
faster still. His efforts were in vain.
The moment that followed was an

 
shl2e

awful one. From the man’s bronzed and
tropical complexion the blood had fled
and left him white as a ghost. He
turned upon the merry crowd and _ his
husky voice struck them chill. He flung
his arms into the air with a despairing
gesture and shouted aloud:

‘Jump! Jump for your lives!’

Jump? The car was going with a speed
that seemed to rival an express train.
The wind was blowing a hurricane; trees
and rocks were whirling past;' the ties
were flashing by and vanishing beneath
them. 4

The cadets stood white and horrified;
but they stood that way for only an in-
stant. A single glance down the ever
increasing slope told them that hesitation
meant a horrible death. Almost as one
man the crowd leaped out into space,
striking the ground in all sorts of pos-
tures, rolling and sliding along the
ground, and finally remaining limp and
helpless where they stopped.

As for the car, it leaped ahead with

- still greater swiftness and already it was

halfway down the slope. One man still
remained upon it!

It was the native. He had delayed but
an instant to make one niore effort to

move the brake to check the speed of the

“ear. That effort cest him his life. for

coming down the slope.

7

when he looked up again he dared not
jump. The cadets were mere specks back
on the swiftly receding track.

The people in the village saw that car
It did: not seem
to be going very fast in the distance; in
fact it seemed to be slowly creeping
down. But as it drew neater, its speed
became evident. The people stared and
gasped to see it whirl round the curves.
And then there came to their ears a faint
rumbling sound, swelling louder, closer,
like the gallop of approaching horses or
the hum of an approaching train. _

Louder still it roared—louder—and then
suddenly with a whirl and a crash the car
burst into view with its single despairing
victim. It plunged head on into the plat-
form at the end of the track, with a

deafening thud and crushing of timber.

And the man was hurled through the air,
fifty feet at one throw, and landed full

upon his head. ©

A hundred people rushed toward him;

soe

his innocence.

ARMY AND NAVY

they raised him up all bloody and gasp-
ing. ‘The next instant something hap-
pened so startling that it seemed a judg-

ment: from heaven.

The man seemed dying; in fact, one
might almost have thought he was dead.
But his eyes opened for one moment: his
trembling hand was raised just once, and
his choking voice was heard to gasp. It

was at an approaching figure he pointed,

a figure clad in the blue uniform of an
That uniform the man.

Annapolis plebe.
recognized; he had seen it come from
under his car.

‘‘He did it!’’ panted the man.
did it! He!’ :

And the next instant he had sunk back
into silence. .

The plebe was Clif Faraday !

‘“He

CHAFTER JIL.

A NARROW ESCAPE.

THe scene that resulted precludes de-
scription. Clif, to his intense astonish-
ment, found himself leaped upon by the
crowd and roughly seized. A moment
more and he was on the scene of the acci-
dent and in the hands of the infuriated
and jabbering Portuguese.

Clif had not the remotest idea of what
had angered the crowd, though from
their exclamations it was evident that
something had enraged them mightily.
The whole situation flashed over Clif a
moment later, when some of the crowd
who had been examining the shattered
car, suddenly gave vent to a shout.

The mob rushed to the spot, dragging
their prisoner with them. The car was
turned over and the stick of wood made
visible te all. Instantly a perfect roar of
fury surged up. Some fiend had done
that, and they had the fiend!

In vain Clif struggled and_ protested
Few understood what he
said, and fewer still cared to. Somebody
dealt him a heavy blow from behind.
Clif, ever courageous, struck out vigor-
ously, and in a moment more there was
a fight in progress.

It stopped a moment later as if by
mutual consent, for another party
attived upon the scene.

And if anything ©
was. necessary to increase the crowd’s

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

Coe
eon

rage it was what that party said,

Cadet Corporal Sharp!

He was bloody and cut; his Sotiins
was in rags as he dashed wildly down the
track to the scene. He had comprehended
the situation, and with his vindictive
nature he fairly leaped for joy as he real-
ized his rival’s peril, Moreover, he be-

lieved that the charge was true, that Clif

had tried to kill him; with trembling
finger he shouted out his accusation.

The infuriated men saw from his ges-
tures and actions what he meant, and that
completed their conviction. It does not
take much to convince a mob anyway.
This mob was roaring for vengeance, and
attacking their helpless prisoner savagely.
All Clif’s resistance had been speedily
overcome, and the situation had grown
very dark indéed.

It was about as perilous a moment as
Clif Faraday had ever known. He was
separated from all his friends, a supposed
guilty wretch in the handsof a howling
mob. It was not long before that mob
took up the dreaded chorus.

Rat him! Kal hin!”?

Lynching is supposed to be primarily
an American pastiine.- As an actual fact,
it is the first 1dea that enters the mind of
every mob, ‘‘from China to Peru.’’ ‘They
may not use the word lvnch, but the
criminal is just as dead as if they had.

Two of ‘the cadets of the plebe class
had been near and seen the attack upon
Faraday. They were Trolley and Nanny,
his two friends, and they had not hesi-
tated a moment. -They were only two,
and boys, but they saw their leader’s
peril and leaped to his side.

‘They. were mere children before the
furious men. Half a minute Jater they
found themselves bruised and battered on
the outskirts of the mob. Clif Faraday
was inside and Heaven only knew what
was happening to him. Just then swelled
the cry again:

‘Kill wink! Killshim!s

Trolley gasped for breath and leaped
at the crowd again. Poor little Nanny
hesitated an instant, and then turned and
sped away down the street, screaming for
help as he ran.

Fear, not for himself Bis for his be-
loved companion urged him on to still
greater and greater efforts. Nanny was

It was »

~

ARMY AND NAVY

1125

making for the shore; a moment later he _
came in sight of it, and a glad sight wel-
comed his eyes. There were three boat |
loads of cadets and sailors out on the —
middle of the bay. But oh, they were so
far off!

Nanny put his hands to his mouth to
improvise a trumpet and shouted at the
very top of his lungs. ,

“Help! Help! They relynchine Clif)”.

Fortunately the water of the bay was
smooth and the sound carried. Nanny
saw the officers in the boats turn round
in their seats and stare at his wildly im-
ploring figure. He saw the men stop
rowing. And then once more he yelled,
even louder than before:

“Help! Help! They’re lynching Clit
Faraday !”?

There was no misunderstanding those
words, or the agonized tone they were
given in. The oars flashed in the sun-
light; the heavy boats whirled about, and
then, as the rowers bent lustily to their
task, fairly leaped through the water
toward the shore. But oh, they were so
far away! And time was so, so precious!

Poor Nanny was like a maniac. He
was prancing up and down the shore,
tearing his hair in agony, waving his
arms at the boats, shrieking with all his
might. Asthe sailors drew nearer his
distress grew still more manifest and
strong arms tugged at the oars. The
stroke grew faster and faster still, the
biades flashed quicker, and the spray flew
higher as the cutters dashed through the
wawes. Clif Faraday was a favorite among
the crew of the Monongahela, and a favor-
ite with his own class, the cadets who
were in the boats. And nothing could
have been imagined to make them work
harder than Nanny’s despairing cries.

“Help! Help! They’re lynching Clif
Faraday.’

At last the boats reached the land,
grated upon the sand on the beach. The
crews leaped out and the officers rushed
toward Nanny.

‘*Where is he?’’ they cried.
the matter ?’’

But already the agonized lad had turned
and was speeding up the street.

‘*Come! Come!’? he shouted.

And almost without waiting for the
orders, cadets and sailors as one man

“What's -

 
 

 

 

1196 ; ARMY AND NAVY eee

leaped forward in pursuit. Up the street
they swept, giving a ringing cheer as
they came. A moment later the scene of
the lynching burst upon their view.

It was a terrible sight. There wasa
roaring mob, swelling every instant, and
shouting furiously. They were standing

beneath a big tree right in the midst of”

the town. There was a rope plainly
visible from the tree, and the sailors
dreaded at any instant to see a dark body
swung up into the air.

“Charge !?? roared the officers.

Perhaps there was no international law
to justify the act, but nobody thought of
that. Boys and men in one compact body
they plunged at the mob, striking. right
and left and sweeping everything “before
them. It was American brawn and cour-
age, fighting for American flesh and
blood. And the result was never in doubt
for one moment. Almost without resist-
ance the crew cut its way to the centre
of the crowd and captured the  all-
important rope. An instant later the half
unconscious Faraday was in his class-
mates’ arms and being borne rapidly back
to the boats.

The mob was furious at having been
cheated of its prey. It rallied and leaped
away in pursuit, shouting, flinging sticks
and stones. But it was too late then, for
their victim was safe in the hands of his
friends. The sailors repulsed all their
attacks; there is nothing the average
sailor likes better than a rough and
tumble fight such as this, especially when
they are not liable to be punished for it
by their officers. In two or three mintites
more they were safely in the boats and
pulling away toward their vessel.

Clif Faraday was safe at last!

CHAPTER IV.

CLIF FARADAY’S STRANGE SILENCE.

There was, of course, the wildest excite-
ment aboard the Monongahela when the
story was made known, and when Clif,
white and weak, was lifted aboard. The
officers reported what they had done in
the matter to the captain, and he sent
hastily for Clif as soon as the lad was
able to see him.

 

 

 

By that time ee persons had arrived
upon the scene.

Mayor of the town, anda _ host of other
indignant officials, jabbeting in Portu-
guese concerning outrages and insults to
national honor.
the ship after that.

The American Consul stated the case

for the officials. —They were much obliged |

to the American sailors for preventing

‘the lynching; but as for running off with

the criminal, that was another matter.
He must be delivered to the authorities
at once. He would be put safely in jail;
the consul would see to his safety—the
Mayor would protect him with the whole
garrison of the place if necessary.

As to his guilt there was no doubt.
The consul gave the proofs, which truly
horrified the ‘‘old man,’’ as the captain
of the ship is popularly known.

Clif was a great favorite of his, and he

had no idea that the case was as dark and
terrible as it seemed. Cadet Corporal
Sharp was hastily sent for, and with much

reluctance (oh, yes!) told the story of |

Faraday’s enmity for him. It is needless
to say that he omitted unnecessary details,

The captain was horrified. He could
not but believe that Faraday was guilty
of that terrible act. It was almost mur-
der, for the man lay in the hospital on
the verge of death. Small wonder that
the authorities were anxious to secure
the villain.

Faraday was summoned at once. He
had to be supported into the room, for
the horrible experience of the afternoon
had made him ill. He took a seat at the
captain’s command,
cusers inthe impromptu court.

‘‘Cadet Faraday,’’? began the officer,
gravely, ‘‘I suppose you know the weight
of the evidence against you?’

‘‘T do,’’ said Clif, looking his superior |

frankly in the eye.
‘(This is a very serious matter,’’ said
the other, “‘Uhese: gentlemen .are the

civil authorities of the town, and they

demand that you be sent to jail at once.

“I cannot see but that they have right on

their side, for the evidence 2 terribly
against you.”?

*‘T can very easily prove my inno-
cence,’’ responded Clif calmly.

In the first place there _
was the American Consul; and then the-

There was fun aboard

and faced his ac-

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

ARMY AND NAVY

The captain gazed at him in amaze-
ment, and his face lit up with pleasure.

‘*Can you!’ he cried. ‘‘In what way ?”?

‘‘T can prove an alibi,’’ said Clif.

The commander of tie Monongahela
made no effort to hide his satisfaction at
Clif’s seemingly cool indifference. If he
had been in real danger of his life surely
he would not have taken the matter as he
did. He must have something to back up
his assertion, which was indeed a cause
for delight. The officer was loath to be-
lieve the charge against this handsome
and courageous lad.

‘*Mr. Faraday,’ he said, ‘‘the evidence
is strong. But I need not tell you how I
hope that it is false. Pray go on.”?

‘‘How do you mean ?’’ inquired Clif.

‘State the proofs of your innocence. ’’

“T cannot do it now,’’ responded the
cadet.

The captain was. still more astounded
at that than he was at the former asser-
tion.

oe NWOt now.) he: erred, «Pray why ?)

‘I cannot tell that either,’’ answered
Chit.

‘‘Can not tell that! Then for Heaven’s
sake when will you tell it?”’
‘“To-morrow morning,’’

swer.

The captain ee at the plebe in con-
sternation and atnazement, which he
made no effort to hide. This was indeed
a most amazing state of affairs. The
prisonet was so cool and indifferent under
the charge, so certain of his safety. And
yet he refused to clear himself.

‘*My dear fellow,’’ pretested the cap-
tain. ‘You will have to-go back to jail
dt you teruse,.”’

‘“That is unfortunate,’’ responded Clif,
‘very unfortunate, but it cannot be
helped.”

Then noticing his superior’s puzzled
and annoyed look, he added: ‘‘I know
you think this is a strange way to act,
captain. And yet the matter is very sim-
ple if I were only in a position to explain
it to you. You will probably laugh when
Ido tell you the reason. But I shall not
even hint at it now. Of course Iam not
at all anxious to spend a night in jail,
but I would rather do that than break a
promise. What time will the Monon-
gahela sail, captain?’

was the an-

 

1127

‘(We were going at nine in the morn-
ing,’’ gasped the astounded officer. ‘‘But
if you are——”’

“T shall be with you by that time,’
said Clif, with all possible politeness.
Then he turned toward the foreigners.

‘“‘Gentlemen,’’ he said, ‘‘I am ready to
go with you.’’

The Aimerican Consul had translated
Clif’s most inexplicable statements to
these latter. ‘They sniffed with incredul-
ity which they made no effort to hide.
Yet they could not help admiring the
nerve with which the lad carried out his
plod)

At Clif’s last words they arose to go.
The captain of the Monongahela had
meant to contest their right to the cadet’s
person, but the latter’s own indifference
completely took the wind out of his sails,
and he said nothing.

A few minutes later “‘the murderer’’
stepped out upon the shore again, where
he was immediately surrounded by a large
body of troops and escorted in safety to
the jail.

° e e ° @

The captain slept very uneasily that
night. He was worried about Clif Fara-
day a good deal more than he cared to ac-
knowledge even to himself. The charge
against the lad was a terrible one; as to
his guilt or innocence, the officer did not
know what to think. He seemed so much
at ease, and yet he had acted so strangely!
At any rate it was all to be settled in the
morning. If he came he must clearly
have proven his alibi; and if he didn’t,
he was to be left to his fate.

The captain was up and pacing the

bridge even earlier than usual. He told
nobody why he kept the glass -in his
hand and scanned the shore incessantly; ©
he told nobody why he did not go down
for breakfast. But everybody knew,
nevertheless, that ‘‘the old man’? was
waiting for Faraday.

Any doubts as to that fact were dispelled
as sailing time came. ‘The crew was in
the very act of hoisting the anchor when
they heard a startled exclamation from
the usually dignified captain.

‘“By George, if that isn’t he fora fact!’

Everybody knew what the words
meant. They ae toward the shore,

 

 
 

   

 

tide . - ARMY .AND NAVY

where a boat was in the yery act of put-
ting off. And forthwith such a suout
arose that even Clif heard it in the dis-
tance and knew that his classmates were
welcoming him.

He climbed aboard, happy as a lark, a.

few minutes later, while a perfect storm
of cheers arose, cheers that nobody tried
to stop and everybody joined in. The
captain strode up to him before he had a
chance to get his breath.

‘“Come below, sir,’? said he. ‘‘I want
tovsee yet: @

Clif followed him meekly, looking very
solemn. He had tact enough to see that
the captain wanted to seem indignant.

‘“Take a seat sir,’? said he, when they
reached his cabin. ‘‘And now will you
please have the goodness to tell me why

you acted so absurdly and kept me awake -

Vallonig ht???

“‘T will,’’ said Clif. ‘‘But you must re-
member beforehand that I told you my
excuse would seem absurd. I met a very
pretty girl in town, sir——”

‘‘Oho!’” said the captain.

“It happened,’ continued Clif, ‘‘that I
rescued her from—er, that is, I just res-
eued her,”’

‘‘After your usual habit,’’ put in the
captain.

‘‘Ves, sir. And I escorted her to where
she was going. It seemed that she had a
very cruel step-mother——”’

‘CA nice affair for my cadets to be
mixed up in!’’? commented the officer.

‘‘Ves, sir, if you please, sir,’’? smiled
Clif. ‘‘Anyway, she was running off
to get married when I met her. She was
to be married at seven-this morning.
After that she was safe; before that, be-
ing a minor, she was liable to be taken
away by her parents, who were hunting
for her. ‘Iherefore, I was sworn to
secrecy.’? ;

“And: therefore, you had to’ act as if
you'd as leave be hung as not,’’ growled

the captain. ‘‘And puzzle me and worry

me to death. <A nice state of affairs in-

deed! And will you kindly tell me how
you escaped from this murder charge ?”’
“Simply,’? said Clif, ‘‘that I had just
left the girl’s house when the accident
took place. She and her relatives and
every one who was in the house testified
to that. So it was clear I could not have

been up onthe mountain, too. And then —
the murdered man didn’t, die after all, -

and they took me over to the hospital.

He concluded he’d made a mistake in his ~

identification. He’d seen somebody like
me near the car. That was the end of the
matter—they let me go.”

The commander read Clif a strong
lecture on the folly of mixing with such
personal affairs and nodded him from the
cabin without further comment.

The American Consul visited the ship
shortly after and the captain and he held
a brief consultation at which it was de-
cided to let the whole affair drop.

‘‘}am loath to believe that one of my
cadets would be guilty of such a lrorrible
trick,’’ said the former, “‘but. from all
the evidence it seems undoubted that a
cadet was tampering with that brake on
the car. However, we can do nothing in
the matter and we'll let it go at that. |

am morte pleasec than I can tell you that

Faraday has proved his innocence. He is
a splendid lad and has the makings of a
fine officer in him.’’ :
To which the consul heartily agreed.
When the sun went down at the end of
that day the old Monongahela was, stand-
ing eastward under a full press of canvas
leaving behind her-in the dark smudge
on the distant horizon which represented

the island of Madeira all chance of fasten-

ing the guilt of the tragedy.
For which Judson Greene and Chris

Spendly thanked their lucky stars for

many a day.

[THE END. |

The next number (25) of Army and
Navy will contain ‘‘A Peril of the Sea,’’
by Ensign Clarke Fitch, U. S. N. °°

 

SSR

e

 

 

a teria
RO eee
x

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

DAN’S BICYCLE RACE.

‘(Tt wobbles awful, don’t it, mister? Want me to
hold it for you till you get started on it once?’’

Dr. Lester Hardcastle looked up with a flushed face
from the bicycle to which he was clinging, and wiped
his perspiring brow.

It did ‘‘wobble.’’ There was no doubt about it; but
he had trundled it half a mile out of the vilage that
he might wobble unseen upon it, and he was not a
little annoyed to ficrd that his strenuous and unsuc-
‘cessful efforts had been witnessed by a spectator, even
though it was only a boy.

He was about to indignantly decline the offer, when

~ suddenly it occurred to him that it might be of real

assistance to him to have a prop, against which to
steady himself, and he turned to look at the speaker.

A tall, lank boy. of about fourteen, with an angular-
featured face, plentifully bestrewn with freckles, and
a mop of tow-colored hair, that bristled out through
the holes in his old straw hat, rose from his reclining
position in the long, tangled grass at the roadside.

‘‘Well, I don’t care if you do,’’ was Mr. Hard-
castle’s rather ungracious acceptance of the offer; and
Dan sprang forward eagerly.

‘‘My!ain’t she just.a beauty, though?’’ exclaimed
the boy, enthusiastically, as he inspected the gleaming

spokes. ‘‘Should think it would be awful hard to get
used to staying there,’’ he added, looking at the
saddle.

Lester Hardeastle liked the boy’s evident apprecia-
tion of the difficulties attending bicycle riding, as well
as his genuine admiration, and he answered cordially:

‘Well, it is pretty hard to get used to it. Now, you
steady it while I get in the saddle, if you can.”’

Dan balanced the machine as well as he could, and
Lester found that he progressed: much more satisfac-
torily than he had before Dan proffered his assistance.

The two were on quite friendly terms before the
twilight began to grow too deep for the riding lesson
to continue longer, and when the doctor trundled his
bicycle back to the office, he had kindly accorded Dan
permission to help him every evening if he wanted to.

The offer was gladly accepted, for next to his ad-
miration for the bicycle, Dan admired the doctor.

Dan hadn’t much ambition about most things; but
before he had officiated as chief assistant at the riding
lessons a week, he was fired with the desire to possess
a bicycle of his own. He had asked the doctor what
they cost and his answer had been, “‘This one cost one
hundred dollars.’’

One hundred dollars! The doctor might just as well
have said a thousand dollars, as far as any chance of
Dan’s getting that immense sum together was con-
cerned. He had never had a quarter all at one time in
his whole life, so you can imagine what a fortune the

- bicycle seemed to cost to him, ©

-But he was determined to have one, and vague ideas
of becoming industrious and saving began to. flit
through his brain.

‘‘T must put in a day polishing this wheel up,’’ re-
marked the doctor one evening as he noticed that the
bicycle had a tarnished look.

 

 

‘‘Liet me shine her up for you,’’ pleaded Dan, eager-
ly. ‘*I?ll do it every day for you if you’ll let me.”’ _
The doctor willingly consented, and, Dan joyfully
constituted himself the groom of the doctor’s new stead.
He had conceived a positive affection for the bicycle,
and every day he polished it and rubbed it with tender

care until it shone like new.

The doctor no longer wheeled it in and out of the
village, but kept it in an unused room in a carriage
factory, about a mile from his office, and in the even-
ing, when he wanted it, Dan brought it in to him.

It was seldom, however, that he cared to start where
he ran a risk of spectators; for, in spite of his prac-
tice, he had not yet gained the mastery over the
‘*wobbling’’ propensities of the wheel.

One Saturday afternoon, after the hands in the ¢ar-
riage factory had quitted work early and gone home,
Dan was busily engaged in his labor of love,

He had enjoyed a ride before he had begun his
work, for he was quite an expert, considering the short
time that had elapsed since‘he had first seen a bicycle.

‘‘Would you let me try this some time?’’ he had
asked once; and the doctor, mindful of his many obli-
gations to Dan, had not had the heart to refuse.

He had supposed that one trial would completely dis-
courage Dau, and as the boy had never mentioned the
subject again, he never thought that he was persever-
ingly practising every available chance.

Dan was careful not to ride where any one would be
apt to see him, and report him to the doctor, lest his
precious privilege should be remanded; but, with a

' pertinacity peculiarly boyish, he had kept on trying

every svening as soon as the hands had left the fac-
tory, despite his many tumbles.

it was not strange that he soon excelled he doctor,
for boys learn things by a sort of intuition, and they
disregard bruises in a way that older people cannot
afford to do.

Dan-was ecstatically happy when he was skimming
up and down the smooth oyster-shell road, with the
silent, gliding velocity that was the very poetry of mo-
tion; and only prudence overcame his longing to have
a chance to exhibit his skill before an audience.

He whistled cheerily as he ,polished each spoke of
the glittering wheel, and taen his whistle died away
as he became absorbed in rough mathematical caleu-
lations, in an endeavor to ascertain how many years
it would take to buy a bicycle if he worked every day.

He heard the heavy tramp of approaching footsteps,

and glancing through the shutters saw three rough- ~

looking men approach the factory, and throw them-
selves down on the grass in the shade.

‘‘Tramps, I s’pose’’? thought Dan. ‘‘I’ll keep. quiet,
for they might molest the bicycle if they should get in
here.’?

He kept on with his work without making any noise,
and presently he began to listen to the conversation.

‘¢He’ll never take the work away from another man
again,’’ said one of them, with a rough oath.

‘¢Just an hour from now the train will strike the

 
 

1130

tunnel, and no one will ever know what happened, it
will be wrecked in such a hurry.’’

‘‘T won't be sorry for this day’s work though, if I
swing for it, for I said I’d have my revenge on the
whole lot of them.’’

Dan listened with a beating heart, and from a few
more remarks he gathered the whole story.

One of the men had been employed on the railway,
and had been discharged for some offence. He was
angry at the man who had taken his place, and to re-
venge himself he had planned to wreck a train,

Dan shuddered at the thought of the terrible loss of
life caused by this man’s malicious hatred. 2

They had evidently accomplished their purpose, and
then fled to avoid possible detection.

Was there no way to defeat their plan? The tunnel
was fifteen miles away, and the man had said that it
lacked an hour only of train time.

Even if Dan could make his escape unnoticed by the
men, he could not reach the village in time for any
one to reach the tunnel before the train.

Something must be done; but what?

An idea came into his mind, aud he fairly trembled
with excitement.

Could he mount the bicycle and get there in time?
He determined to try, though it was hazardous to his
own safety trying to pass those desperate men,

Not a sound betrayed him, as, softly slipping back
bolts and bars, he rolled the bicycle out. The men’s
faces were turned the other way, he discovered, as he
peeped round the corner of the building.

That was well. He had the bicycle fairly on the road
at last, and still no sound had been made. —

As he vaulted into the saddle, the gravel crunched
under his feet, and the men turned and saw him.

Before they could spring to their feet and bar his
progress, he had flashed past them on the glittering
wheel, a queer apparition, with a face that was ghast-
ly pale under its freckles, wide-open, pale blue eyes,
and long, lank legs and arms that did their duty well.
Dan was not a coward, but he was emphatically
*‘scared,’’? as he confessed afterwards, for his only
hope of saving the train lay in passing the men.

ARMY AND NAVY

The bright wheel flashed like a ball of silver as it
whirled along beneath his steady pressure, and al-
though Dan did not exactly know what time he was
making, he knew he was covering the ground rapidly,
because trees and posts seemed to rush past him with
such bewildering rapidity.

The conditions could not have been more favorable,
A smooth road, as hard and even as a floor, no rough
places where he would bein imminent danger of a
‘theader,’’? and no wind. ‘

The magnificent machine skimmed over the road as
if it was a sentient being, and knew that life depended
upon its speed; and Dan’s heart beat fast at the
thought that, boy as he was, he was going to save that
train with its living freight. ;

He began to be fearful at last that he would be too
late, for the fifteen miles seemed to stretch themselves
out interminably, and it seemed to him that nearly an

hour must have elapsed already. Faster and faster he”

went, straining very nerve lest he should be too late.
Almost there at last—within a mile—but he heard

the shrill whistle of an approaching train. Would he

be just too late? The thought was agonizing, and the
exhausted boy redoubled his efforts.

Just in time! He sprang from his bicycle, and, hold-
ing it with one hand, waved an old red handkerchief
in the other.

The engineer saw it, and saw the white, terrified
face. Just at the mouth of the tunnel the train was
stopped, and in a few incvherent words Dan explained
the danger.

A deadly explosive was found on the rails, and but
for Dan it would have done its work only too fa-
tally.

When the grateful passengers asked what they could
do for the boy who had saved them, can you guess
Dan’s answer, while his freckled face grew radiant?
A bicycle.

Not a sensible wish, perhaps; but he got it. He was
soon the happy possessor of one of the finest bicycles
ever made, that threw even the doctor’s into the
shade. He loves it dearly; but I think his best affec-
tion is given to the wheel upon which he won his race,

THE FIN DE SIECLE SMITHY.

Under a spreading chestnut tree
The bike repair shop stands,

The owner—a wealthy man is he,
Who hires foity hands;

His shop is worth a hundred farms
Of the choicest kinds of lands,

x

Week in, week out, from morn till night,
His people work away,

A score of wrecks are brought along
To be mended every day;

And he’ll soon be rich enough to sit
In the Senate—so they say.

He goes on Sunday to the church;
The costliest pew is his.

While others hear the preacher preach,
He only thinks of ‘‘biz;”

The organ’s tones to him are just
The careless scorcher’s whiz.

¥
Laughing, rejoicing, happy,
Onward through life he goes;
For every wheel that is repaired
Two more will break, he knows.’
His homely daughter is in the swim,
And has a dozen beaux.

 

 

 

 
   
   

 

 
i

Ry peo

TANS
a:

i ih

fe
Mie fi
N\ NY bd

fi
—=

By William Marray Graydon

Author of “A Legacy of Peril,” etc., etc.

(“IN FORBIDDEN NEPAUL” was commenced in No. 15. Back numbers can be obtained from all newsdealers.)

CHAPTER XXIX.

HIS HIGHNESS DOST KAHN.

QIINOTHER fight for life or death, and so
soon after the exhausting struggle with
the subterranean river! It was enough to
discourage the weary men, for they knew
that the odds were in favor of the croco-
diles. But they did not lose hope; hard

and fiercely they toiled, driving the boat swiftly on
ward, and feeling the water creeping higher above
their feet, Steadily they approached the island, and
steadily the leakage rose. At last Nigel threw down
his paddle, and commenced to toss the water out with
both hands.

‘¢That’s right—keep it up!’? muttered -Hawksmoor,
‘¢We’ll win yet, old fellow!”’

It was a hard fight, andfor a time the issue was
doubtful. In spite of Nigel’s toil the water continued
to gain, very slowly but perceptibly; doggedly as
Hawksmoor paddled, he could not overcome the de-
creasing speéd at which the heavy boat now moved.
Nearer and nearer came the island, until it was only
twenty feet distant. And just then the timbers of the
ricket craft bulged suddenly apart, the water surged
over the gunwales, and Nigel and Hawksmoor were
struggling on the surface of the lake.

The boat was lost to them—it sank instantly—but
they thought less of this misfortune than of the peril
from the crocodiles and the big serpents. Side by side
they struck out, swimming with frantic strokes across
the narrow stretch of water that separated them from
the haven of refuge. Soon they touched bottom, and
-waded the rest of the way through the shallows. And
when they splashed breathlessly out on the shore, and
turned to look back, they saw the scaly backs and
snouts of two or three crocodiles cutting the water in
the neighborhood of the sunken boat.

‘We had a narrow shave of it,’? Hawksmoor said,
coolly.

‘‘Yes, I thought it was all up with us,’’ Nigel as-
sented, with a shudder. ‘‘But we’re not much’ better
off now, cast away on an island in mid-lake, and with
no means of reaching the mainland! Its a toss up

whether the crocodiles or the priests finish usin the
end.’?

Hawksmoor did not reply, he was sniffing the air
curiously. ‘‘f smell smoke,’’ he said. ‘‘There is a fire
close by—I am sure of it!”?

‘‘Tmpossible!?’ muttered Nigel. ‘‘Who could be on the
island? And yet I can smell burning wood myself !’’

The island was apparently long and narrow, dense-
ly covered with rocks and jungle, and bordered on
both sides by a strip of pebbly beach. The castaways
had landed at the upper end—that facing toward the
monastery—and close by them was a square-shaped
boulder. Hawksmoor mounted to the top of this, took
a brief look with his hands:to his eyes, and then
dropped lightly down.

' $7 was right,’’ hesaid. ‘‘Thereisa fire at the extreme
other end of the island. I can see the sparkle of it over
the bushes.”’

‘So much the worse for us!?’
spondently.

‘¢So much the better, perhaps! I see athin ray of
hope ahead, Davenant. Come, we must discover what
the fire means. Becareful how and where you step.

Nigel muttered, de-

All depends on silence. ’?

They lingered a moment to squeeze the water from
their dripping clothes, and then started down the right
side of the island. They crept along in the moonlight,
their soft sandals making not the slightest noise on the
pebbles, and when they had advanced forty or fifty
yards they saw the gleam of the fire and caught the
faint murmur of voices. A few feet more, and they
stopped behind a fringe of tall reeds, over the tops of
which they saw a strange sight.

They were close to the lower end of the island—al-
most on the verge of the triangular little spit of sand
and gravel that lay between the water and the jungle
growth. A canoe-shaped boat, fitted with paddles and
a rude sail, was drawn partly out of the lake. Andon
the strip of pebbly sand, with a small wood fire burn- .
ing before them to ease the chill of the night air
squatted two men.

The one was dressed in tunic and baggy trousers of .
fine whita cloth, with scarlet kummerbund and turban.
His haughty but cruel features, the curved sword and
jewel-hilted pistol at his waist, proclaimed him as a.

 
1192

man of some distinction. His companion was a middle-
aged little Goorkha soldier; a musket lay beside him,
_and he wore the uniform of the native army of Nepaul

—long trousers, and a braided jacket over an antique

shirt of chain mail. Both men were clean-shaven, and

at present they were looking silently and moodily out —

on the lake.

Hawksmoor gave Nigel a warning touch on the arm,
and for a minute or more they stood silently behind
the fringe of reeds, watching and listening, and searce-_
ly daring to breathe. Then, of a sudden, the Goorkha
turned to his companion.

‘‘The night is young yet, your highness,’’ he said,
‘*Shall we not enjoy a restful sleep?’

‘*Mine eyes are not heavy,’’? the other answered,
petulantly. ‘‘But for your tardiness, Hafiz, we should
have reached the monastery ere sunset, instead of be-
ing forced to lie till morning on this island.’’

“Thy servant is not to blame, most noble Dost
Khan,’’ protested the Goorkha. ‘‘Truly it was hard to
paddle against the tide of the Kalli river. We had bet-
ter have made the journey by land.’’

“T was of that mind,’’? muttered Dost Khan, ‘‘but
the Prime Minister would have it.the other way for
his own reasons, and so we shall be a day late.’’

He drew from the folds of his kummerbund a sheet
of parchment, opened it, and glanced at the writing
that it contained.

‘tI like not the task,’’? he added. ‘‘It will go hard
with me if I fail to do the wishes of Matadeen Mir.’?

‘Think you it will be difficult to persuade the mem
sahib?’? asked the Goorkha.

Dost Khan laughed grimly.

‘*T would rather be set to break the will of ten men
than of one woman,’’ be replied. ‘‘Had you a wife,
Hafiz, you would the better understand——”’

At that unlucky instant Nigel felt, -or thought that
he felt, the cold body of a snake rustle over his foot.
The fright brought a gasping cry to his lips,’ and he
gave such a start that the gravel crunched under him,
And just as quickly the two Hindoos Bree up in
alarm.

“At them!??
chance!?’

The words were barely uttered, when he leaped
through the fringe of reeds with Nigel. at his heels.

The assault was so swift and unexpected that it gave
the Goorkha and Dost Khan no opportunity to use
their weapons. The latter, in the act of drawing his
sword, was seized by Hawksmoor. They grappled
furiously and fell together.

Nigel darted past the combatants and struck up the
musket which Hafiz was just aiming at him. Then be-
gan a struggle for the weapon, both grasping it by the
barrel. For several moments they shifted to and fro
over the sand, glaring savagely at each other and
panting hard for breath. At last the wiry little
Goorkha slipped and fell backwards, and with a jerk
Nigel got possession of the musket.

But Hafiz, cunning asa serpent, sprang to his feet
and slipped out of reach. He drew a knife from his
clothing, and with a bitter cry rushed at his enemy,
There was no time to hesitate—no time to be merciful.
Nigel swung the musket high and aimed a hard and
sure blow. The heavy stock of the weapon crashed

Hawksmoor shouted. ‘‘Now is our

down on the Goorkha’s head; he threw up his arms ~

and fell like a log.
Dost Khan and Hawksmoor were still struggling on
the edge of the jungle, and Nigel went at once ‘to his

ARMY AND N NAVY!

companion’s assistance. Between the two the Hindoo

‘was quickly subdued, and offered no further resistance

to his captors. Hawksmoor took his pistol and sword,

and then released him. 4 a
“(Sit still,’’? he said, sternly. ‘‘If you move Ill shoot

7 yeu,??

Dost Khan was evidently a coward at heart, for he
was trembling with fright. ‘‘Who are ye?’’ he asked,
ina whining tone. ‘‘Ah! yeare the two disguised
Feringhees—the enemies of Matadeen Mir!”?

- “(Have it so, if you like,’’ Hawksmoor answered,
with a laugh. ‘‘How about the other chap, Davenant?”’

‘<The poor fellow is dead,’’ said Nigel, who was
bending over the body of Hafiz. ‘‘It couldn’t be
helped, though; it was his life or mine,’?

‘Yes, you had to do 16,72 - replied Hawksmoor.
‘Don’t let that worry you. I was afraid we would be
compelled to kill them both.’’

He picked up the sheét of parchment, which had
fallen to the ground in the struggle, and ran his eye
over it.

‘“‘Jove, we’re in luck to- night!” he added. ‘‘This is
a letter from Matadeen Mir to the high priest, demand-
ing for his emissary, Dost Khan, an interview with
Miss Brabazon. And there is something about a ring
—a sort of a sign to back up the letter. Where is the
bauble, Dost Khan, if that’s your name?’

The Hindoo took from his finger a gold seal-ring with
a curiously-carved stone set in mt, and handed it to
Hawksmoor.

‘‘T have done you no harm, sahib’’? he whined. ‘'I
crave that you spare my life.”?

‘¢‘T will do so,’? replied Hawksmoor, ‘‘on condition
that you answer truthfully the questions I put to you.
To begin, where is Matadeen Mir now???

‘¢At Katmandu, sahib, whence he returned yester-
day from Yoga.’’ s

‘Ts he recovered of his wound, then?’’

‘‘No, it gives him great pain and‘disfigurement.’?

‘(Serves him jolly right!’’? muttered Hawksmoor in
English. ‘‘And now what brought you here? I want
the whole story.’’

‘CAs you are aware by the letter, sahib,’’? Dost Khan
replied, ‘‘I and my companion were sent by Matadeen
Mir to have audience with the mem sahib, who is a
prisoner in the monastery. We came by boat, leaving
Katmandu at dawn this morning, and thé sunset over-
taking us, we had to stop here for the night.”?

‘“¢Why???

‘*Because those who guard the water-gate to the
monastery leave their post. at sunset; between then and
sunrise the gate may not be opened to visitors.’

‘tAh, Isee. And what were you to say to the mem
sahib?’’

‘(IT was to urge her consent to an immediat mar-
riage with Matadeen Mir.’’

‘tT thought so. And by what threat. or argument?
Come, conceal nothing if you value your life.’’

‘tT was to tell the mem sahib,’’ replied. Dost Khan,
‘*that her father was a prisoner, and that his head
would be struck off unless she consented to marry the
Prime Minister.’? ;

‘And is Brabazon Sahib a prisoner???’

‘“No; he is safe at the Residency.”’

“T thought it was a lie,’?? muttered Hawksmoor.
‘¢*Are you known to any of the priests in the monas-
tery?”’

‘‘Only by name—they have never seen my face.’?

‘*And you have never been there?’?

 

 
 

 

 

om

Bo aes
SRS

 

 

—

SS

 

“to Nigel,

er

ARMY AND NAVY
foam, was driving slowly

to Durgadeva’s monastery.
Two men were in the boat,

**No, sahib.”’

‘*Tell me how one enters the water-gate.”’

“Sahib, you are-mad to think of ——”?

‘*Tell me at once!’’? Hawksmoor interrupted,
ly. ‘‘What were your instructions?’’

sharp-

‘*To shout for the guards,’’ the Hindoo replied, sul-
lenly, ‘‘and then give them the letter.’
‘“‘That sounds easy enough,’’ said Hawksmoor,

half to himself. ‘‘Is all that you have told me true?
Swear it.’’

‘'Tt as true,
Mahadera!’’

Hawksmoor had been watching the Hindoo’s face
intently, and he was satisfied that there was no reason
to suspect deceit or treachery. ’

‘*] will keep my promise, Dost Khan,’’ he said.
‘*Your life is safe at my hands, but you must remain
on the island for a time. If matters turn out as I hope
they will your friends will find you ina day or two.
But it Ee that you should be bound and
gagged.

‘Don’t leave me here helpless,’’ the captive pleaded,
abjectly. ‘‘I shall starve to death, sahib.”’

‘‘T have no choice in the matter,’’ said Hawksmoor.
‘*You must take your chances. It is the devil’s. own
work that you are doing for Matadeen Mir.’’? Turning
he added: ‘‘Unstrip, Davenant, and ex-
change clothes with Dost Khan. They will fit you,
but not me; I have no choice but to put on the
Goorkha’s wniform.’’

‘(What do you mean?’’ Nigel demanded, in startled
tones, an inkling of the truth flashing tardily upon
him. ‘You surely don’t intend to——’’

“Yes, that’s it, old fellow,’’ broke in Hawksmoor.
“‘Tt’s a Heaven-sent opportunity. You and I Will play
the parts of Dost Khan and Hafiz. We wiil preseut the
letter and the ring, enter the monastery, and have an
audience with Miss Bitabazon.’?

‘‘Hawksmoor, you are the most daring and reckless
man that ever lived,’’ Nigel cried, hoarsely. ‘‘This
seems madness to me. Do you think that we can pos-
sibly carry it through? And what good result can
come from an interview with Muriel?’’

‘“Heyerything, if we play our cards well,’’ was the
reply. ‘‘Matadeen Mir’s letter explains nothing. It
gives us a comparatively free hand. What will happen,
do you suppose, if we tell the priests that Matadeen
Mir has just returned to Yoga during the night, that
he is waiting there to have an interview with the girl,
and that she is willing to accompany us there?’’

‘““They won’t let her go!’’ muttered Nigel.

‘““Phey will consent at once—they can’t do other-
wise,’’? declared Hawksmoor. ‘‘Don’t you agree with
me, Dost Khan?’’

But Dost Kahn answered nothing. His dark eyes
full of mingled hatred and terror, looked furtively at
the two Englishmen.

sahib; I swear by the head of

CHAPTER XXX.
BACK TO THE MONASTERY.

It was morning again, and the sun was just peeping
over the mountain ramparts upon the Lake of Dacca,
mingling dabs of ruddy gold with the wonderful pur-
ple hue of the water, islands and encircling shores.
Early as was the hour, strange voyagers were astir.
A boat with a square sail hoisted to the breeze, its
rearward track marked by a dancing line of curdled

} ae

SS ee
sah pea ee

1133

towards the grim gateway

and it is doubtful if
even the astute Ali Mirza could now have identified
them as Nigel Davenaut aud Travers Hawksmoor, so
great a change had been wrought by their present dis_
guise. “Nigel sat forward of the sail, his eyes fixed
steadily on the black mouth of the subterranean river ;
he was attired from head to foot in Dost Khan’s rich
clothing, and was armed with the curved sword and
the jewelled pistol; even his features had something of
the Hindoo’s fierce and haughty look. Hawksmoor
crouched in the stern, dipping nis paddle now and then
as the shifting of the clumsy sail made a change of
course necessary. The uniform of the dead Hafiz fitted
him perfectly, and he was almost the counterpart of
the little Goorkha.

After the victorious fight on the island the night

had passed tranquilly with the Englishmen, They first
exchanged clothing with the Hindoos, tied and gagged
Dost Khan, and then made a hearty meal off the food
that they found in the boat. A lengthy discussion fol-
lowed. On consideration, his’ conipanion’s plan had
seemed less audacious and more promising to Nigel,
and he eagerly agreed to the undertaking. Hawksmoor
explained to him what he hoped to accomplish, and
gave him careful instructions how to play his part—
which was by far the more important of the two.
* All details satisfactorily arranged, the men put out
the fire and brought some skin rugs from the boat.
They wrapped.themselves in these, giving one to Dost
Khan and slept soundly on the sandy beach until the
grey light of dawn broke. Now, after a hearty break-
fast, that had put fresh life into them, the adventur-
ers were speeding back to the lion’s jaw’s—back to try
if they could outmatch the fanatical priests of Dur-
gadeva by nerve and craft.

The goal was close ahead—the island nearly a mile
in the rear. The body of Hafiz had been dragged deep
into the jungle growth, and nearer to the water the
luckless Dost Khan lay in a little hollow surrounded
by tall grass, his wrists and ankles tightly bound, and
a wad of cloth stuffed between his teeth. Harsh treat-
ment, perhaps, but it was the most merciful course
possible. His captors knew that before the day was
over the question of their success or failure would be
answered definitely, and that, in either event, a speedy
search would be made on the lake for the missing Hin-
doos; and the traces of recent occupation, plainly visi-
ble on the point of the island, would lead to Dost
Khan’s rescue. That he might be discovered within a
shorter period of time was too remote and improbable
a contingency to cause the Hnglishmen uneasiness.

‘Jove, we are nearly there now!’’ said Hawksmoor,
as-he leisurely dipped his paddle into the purple ”
waters. ‘‘How do you feel about it, Davenant??’

‘“Keen and fit,’’ replied Nigel.

‘*And you remember all your instructions?’’

“Yes; every one. It’s queer how things have shifted
about, Hawksmoor. Last night we were crushed and
hopeless, glad to escape with our lives from the monas-
tery, and with Muriel’s rescue depending on the slim
chauce of our reaching Katmandu and revealing the
truth to the British Resident. And now we are going
back defiantly—back to play as daring and desperate a
game as ever man took a hand in. Heaven help us to
win! God grant uhat we may save Muriel Brabazon
from a fate worse than death !”? ’

Nigel’s voice choked with emotion, and his com-

 
1134

panion shot a quick and furtive glance at him beneath
the fluttering sail.’
‘*The stake is worth the risk,’’

Hawksmoor said,
almost coldly. ‘‘Before the sun goes down, Matadeen
Mir will have lost or won his bride, for if we fail to
save the girl he will force her to marry him.’

“*Never!’’ Nigel cried, hoarsely. ‘‘Muriel has to
much spirit——’’

‘Watch sharp, Davenant!’’ Hawksmoor interrupted.
‘Don’t you see where we are? Your face will betray
you unless you do better with the part of Dost Khan.’?’

The f€buke was not unmerited, for Nigel’s feelings
had broken through his mask of haughty disdain, and
keen eyes might easily have been watching him from
the battlemented red wall of the monastery. The boat
was now gliding, with bellying sail, between the two
contracting cliffs that towered thousands of feet high.
No more than twenty yards ahead yawned the iron
gate, every bar standing out in sunlit relief against
the blackness of the subterranean river that lay be-
yond it. The place was as weird and impressive by
day as by night.

As yet there was nosign or sound of human life.
Hawksmoor took down and furled the sail, then
dipped his paddle with gentle strokes. The boat glided
beneath the jutting shelf of rock overhead, and as it
bumped lightly against the gate Nigel stood up and
caught hold of one of the bars.. Hawksmoor put a
hand to his mouth, and: shouted—a loud, imperative

shout, that rolled in hollow echoes far through the
dark gorge of the river.
For nearly a minute there was no response. Then a

grating noise was heard, and high up on the right
hand wall, just within the gate, a square of yellow

light appeared. A head and shoulders leaned blackly ©

forth and a harsh voice demanded:

‘Strangers, what brings ye to the monastery of
Durgadeva??’’

‘‘T am Dost Khan, a man of authority,’’? Nigel re-
plied in the native tongue. ‘‘I come hither in the ser-
vices of his Highness Matadeen Mir, the Prime Minis-
ter of Nepaul. I have journeyed from Katinandu, and
my errand is with the high priest Vashtu.’’

‘“Hmpty words will not gain ye admission,’’? came
the voice from above.

‘'] bring a letter and a ring,’’ Nigel answered, ‘‘as
token of my office and good faith.’’

‘(Tt is well, Dost Khan. Wait in patience!’’ With

that the speaker vanished, and the opening in the wall :

was drawn suddenly shut.

Nigel let the boat drift back a few feet, and Hawks-
moor held it stationary by occasional strokes of the
paddle. For ten minutes or more they waited, talking
in low tones. Then, with a creaking noise, aid with
nothing to show the motive power, the gate suddenly
began to move across the channel. On it went, rattling
into a crevice of the wall on the left,
but a yard or two had vanished the controlling
mechanism stopped. An instant later, a short distance
within, a torch flashed from the right-hand wall of
the river, and a voice rang sharply. ee

With a glance of warning at' his companion Hawks-
moor drove the boat through the gateway, and so to
the spot whence the voice had come. Here was a slimy
flight of steps leading up from the water, and at the
bottom of them stood two swarthy natives in the green
and white attire of the priests of the first degree. The
younger one held a torch in one hand, and with the
other he seized the prow of the boat. His companion
was oldex and more dignified, and to him
both the letter and the seal-ring. He glanced at them
briefly.

‘«They shall be despatched to the high priest,’’ he

®
a

steps.

and when all,

Nigel gave

 

ARMY AND NAVY

®
said, ‘‘and until word come from him ye are in my
charge. Sol bid ye follow!’  - eg

With that he led the way up the steps to a narrow
ledge that vanished in the darkness along thé bank.of
the river, with a wall of rock rising high on the one
side and a low parapet on the other—just such a place —
as Bhagwan Das had told of. By a secret spring, or
some other most ingenious contrivance, the priest sud-
denly shot open a stone door in the wall. He motioned
the Englishmen to enter, and when they were over the
threshold the door as suddenly and mysteriously
clanged shut.

Nigel and Hawksmoor. found ‘themselves in a small
Square apartment, cut out of solid rock, and as cold
and bare asa dungeon. They sat down on a stone
bench—the sole piece of furniture—under a torch that
flared from a niche in the wall. And faintly, as
though at a great distance, they heard the muffled
rattle of the iron gate as it was drawn shut.

‘‘That cuts us off from the outer world,’’ said Nigel.
‘It’s like being in a tomb.”

‘‘We had better not hold any conversation,’’ whisp-
ered Hawksmoor, edging as far as possible from his
companion. ‘I don’t quite fancy the look of things.
This is an uncanny sort of place, and I shouldn’t
wonder a bit if ears were listening at some hole or
crevice we can’t see.’’

They were kept waiting far longer than they had ex-
pected. The minutes dragged by until they grew to an
hour, and still the silence was unbro en—nota sound
penetrated the thick walls. So they sat patiently,
speaking but an occasional word, and two hours in all
must have passed when finally the door opened with-
out warning, revealing the majestic figure of the eld-
erly priest; there was flashing and glowing of torches
behind him.

Nigel rose to his feet, feigning great indignation. _

‘‘What is the will of the high priest?’’? he asked
sharply, as Hawksmoor had just bidden him do. ‘‘If
he desires not to receive us, we will bear that word
back to Matadeen Mir,”’

‘‘Those who come here, be they of high or low
caste, are served even as you have been served, O
Dost Khan,’’ the priest answered, curtly. ‘‘Indeed,
ye are fortunate, for there are days when Vashitu
may not be approached. But the letter and the ring
have been given to him, and he now awaits your com-
mes)

‘‘Lead us to him,’’ said Nigel; and he and Hawks-
moor followed the priest out to the ledge. To their
surprise a large flat-boat was moored at the foot of the
It was made luxurious by soft cushions. orna-
mented with gold and ivory, and at bow and stern
torches flared from upright rods of carved brass. It
had six rowers—two on a_ seat—fierce-looking men in
red tunics and trousers, with kummerbunds: and tur-
bans of white.

The disguised Englishmen haughtily descended the
steps and seated themselves in the stern of the boat.
Without delay the six rowers dipped their oars, and
the long craft sped swiftly up stream, the torches
flashing on the inky water and the slimy embank-
ments. When Nigel looked back the iron gate was
growing dim in the distance.

‘* All is well so far,’’ he whispered in his compan-
ion’s ear. ‘‘I suppose Vashtu sent this boat down for
us??

‘Yes.’ replied Hawksmoor, ‘‘and the men in it are
priests of the second degree. Bhagwan Das said they
wore red and white. We are going to see some strange
and wonderful things, Davenant.?’ i

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

PP ke

¢

 
  

BY oH As

IND the way, in faith! Do you ask me that,
most noble captain? Why, I could find it
backwards and blindfold, in the beart of a
snowstorm! Scores of times in the bad
weather have I driven my sheep along it,
to take shelter in the very hollow’ where
the Evzonai (mountaineer soldiers) rest to-

night, till 1 know every turn and twist of the track as
lizard knows its nook. Now the Greeks shall be the

sheep, and thou shalt be master butcher in the kill-
ing!’’
The speaker laughed—a harsh and cruel. laughter,

devoid of mirth. : i
‘‘Hush, you fool!’? muttered another voice angrily.

‘‘What was that rustling that I heard among the

straw in the stall yonder? I will see what it is. Take

_ eare that you play no tricks with me, Sir Traitor Y

 

   
  

 

‘*Have no uneasiness, captain,’’ said the first voice.

“again; ‘* ’Tis but the calf that has lost its mother two
days since and is restless still. Not a soul is in the
house but ourselves and my little herd, and him I
"| have safely fastened in the loft where he sleeps above
_ the sheep-stall.”’ ;
_ ‘*Well for bim!?? rejoined the other, grimly; ‘‘and
" ill for you if you play doubly false! But lead us un-
“© detected within short range of this nest of sleeping
vipers, and you shall be well paid.”’ ne ‘
‘(On the honor of a Turk?’’ broke in his companion,
' with a jeering chuckle. ‘‘I will guide your troops to a
\ spot where, if they will, they may pour ina volley
> among the Evzonai as they lie—for these look not for
_ the foe to creep down upon them in their rear, where
| the rugged heights are deemed impassable. But for
'meit isa venture; lama Greek, and erel risk my
neck and betray my countrymen I must have money—
no promises, but money in my pouch, captain !’’
There was some further muttered talk and the
chink, chink of money; then the door was opened and
shut, footsteps sounded across the yard and died away.
“Within the stable all was silent.
-At last there was a rustling in the straw beside the
) sleeping motherless calf. In the darkness a boy’s head
emerged from under the litter; his eyes were wide and
staring with fright, his teeth were hard set to stop
their chattering. :
| Very slowly, halting at every movement to listen
for the return of the speakers, the boy gained his feet
‘and stole to the door, then halted, unable to decide
‘what course to pursue. He was Alexis Skopelos, the
sheep-herd of whom his master had spoken to the
‘Turkish captain. 4
' Little had he thought an hour before, when he
swung himself down from his sleeping-place in the
ft to comfort his only playfellow, the hapless calf,
hat an adventure was to follow. He had just fed the
oor little creature, when approaching footsteps had
ade him hide under the loose straw in its stall, where
he had overheard the shameful plot for the betrayal of
‘the Greek regiment. j
_ Alexis understood it all too well. Throughout the
wo years he had served on the lonely frontier hill-
rm, there had been yague talk of war and vague
ars lest the torrent ‘of Infidel troops might come
ouring across that invisible frontier line that.divided
he mountains into Turkish and Greek territory. And
t last it had come. For two days past the air had been
eavy with distant cannonading, and that very morn-
ng the lad had seen a regiment of the gallant Hvzonai
‘troops retreating to their fastness among the hills.
**And now Maratho has betrayed them, scoundrel
at he is!’’ said the lad to himself. ‘‘I must save
hem—but how is it possible? } could not find the

   
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
   
   
  
   
   
   
   
    
    
  
   
   
    
   
  
   
   
  
   
   
  

 

{

i
+

 
 

FOILING A TRAITOR.

CARR,

track in this darkness, and if I did the Turks would
catch me and murder me.”’ .

For an instaut the temptation came to climb bacék
into the loft and leave the troopers to their fate. But
he put it aside.

‘*No, I must try to find the path before the others
reach it,’’ he muttered as he set off through the night
gloom.

A scramble among the boulders behind the farm, a
run across the rough upland, then a groping clamber
down the valley beyond and up the further slope,
And now the real difficulty began. Somewhere on
the crest an overhanging rock left a low passage,
through which it was necessary to creep with. bent
head and so reach the ravine in which the trail
started.

Up and down, back and forth—tripping, stumbling,
and striking against unseen obstac)jes—with hands. ever
busy in their blind quest for the rock portal, the brave
boy wandered in vain, until at last, with bruised and
bleeding limbs, he crouched down in a corner and
sobbed in exhaustion and despair.

Suddenly he stopped. Across the valley came the
faint scuffling of soft shoes on rocks, with occasional
rattles of falling stones.

‘*The Turks!’’ he cried to himself in his terror. He
would have fled, but that was impossible; in the dark-
ness, aud hemmed in by monstrous boulders, he could
not have gone a dozen’ yards without betraying his
presence—and that would mean a long Turkish knife
across his throat.

So, parched and heart sick with fear, he waited.

The sounds came nearer and nearer, directly to his
hiding place. At length, when within arm’s reach of
him, the foremost of the invisible company turned and
whispered in Greek to his immediate follower:

‘*Bid your men stoop-low and follow close.’?

Alexis knew that voice. Had he held any weapon in
his hand he would have sprung at the figure he could
just see before him outlined against the night sky, and
have struck one blow for Greece though it had cost
him his life. But he was powerless, and the traitor
passed unscathed; his time was not yet. The boy saw
Maratho’s figure stoop and then vanish in the dense
shadow of a rock fronting him. He could have cried,
had he dared, to think how near he had been to dis-
covering the entry to the track.

But regrets were useless now. Alexis could only
cower down, scarce daring to breath, whilst in single
file figure after figure emerged from the night, showed
in silhouette against the sky, and vanished in the
gloom again,

One of them, stepping a little aside, kicked against:
little Skopelos’ boot, and» muttered something in his
outlandish tongue—doubtless a curse—in anger at the
supposed stone. His comrade, following close behind,
set his beavy shoe on the boy’s fingers, nearly crush-
ing them, although the sole was of soft leather.

Alexis bit his lip through to stifle the shriek that al-
most gained utterance. He just succeeded; and the
profound gloom that lay upon his rock-angle sheltered
him and unquestionably saved his life.

At last, after a seemingly infinite length of time,
the terrible procession ended. How many men had
passed through the rocky arch the terrified little
watcher could not guess; but when the sound of the
last straggler’s feet had died avay, he rose with new
courage, forgetful of his many pains and perils, mind-
pe only of a sudden happy inspiration that possessed.

im.

‘*They shall be warned!’’ he said aloud, and started.
doggedly back to the farm.

  
 
 

 
136 :

The building stood on the face of a high barren
eminence that fronted the famed Melouna Pass. Half
a league away to the west lay Akitsia, the mountain
spur on which the regiment“of Evyzonai had taken
shelter from the Turkish batteries. Between these two
points the high ground stretched in a receding cres-
cent; so that each was visible from the other. -

Hurrying into the sheep-hut, the young herd flung
wide its gate, and drove out its bleating, bewildering
inmates. With tinder and steel he struck a light; a dry
pine-branch served for a torch; and soon from half-a-
dozen points about the walls of.the hut, the fierce
flames were leaping aloft, crackling and spluttering
merrily as they fed on the dry timber and thatch.

The sentinels at Akitsia saw the beacon light, and
judging that none save Turks would fire a Greek
building they gave a prompt alarm.

- Ina few minutes the sleeping camp was on the alert.
Sentries were doubled and pushed further out on all
sides, and pickets were posted for their support. The
attacking band, ere they reached the crest of Akitsia,
saw the glare of the flames lighting up the eastern
sky, and knew they were betrayed.

‘* Tis the guide has played us false!’’ cried their
leader, and from throat after throat the murmur went
up: ‘‘The guide! Kill the guide!’?

But where was the guide? He had vanished like a
ghost, and the challenging fire of the Greek sentries
made the invaders too anxious for their own safety to
care further about him. Indeed, they were in a peril-
ous plight. Ignorant of the road back or forth, with-
out a guide, and far froni any supports, they stood
amazed until the bullets of their petticoated foes began
to whistle about them.

**Take to cover, men, and fight

every inch of

ground!’’ cried the Turkish captain, boldly leaping on
a rock that his followers might hear and see him.
Next moment he pitched headlong amongst them, a
bullet through his brain.

And now in the growing dawn a terrible conflict

was waged. The Turks, leaderless and betrayed,
fought with the unshaken firmness of their fighting
race. From behind rock and mound and tree they gal-
lantly sustained the unequal strife. There was no
yielding, no falling back, for there was no road open
for retreat: where they took cover, there they held
fheir ground or died. :

But the Evzonai, the gallant kilted mountaineers,
the pick and pride of the Greek army, were no less
heroic than they, and had the advantages of better
eover and higher ground. Soina deadlock of grap-
pling courage the struggle weut on—-a veritable Battle
of the Giants.

And how fared it with Maratho meanwhile?

That wily traitor, seeing the light of a beacon in
the sky and rightly divining that his treachery was
discovered and that he would be suspected of double
falsity by the Turks, had drawn ahead of the troop,
and under cover of the darkness slipped down the grey

ARMY AND NAVY

hillside and was safely hidden in a cavern ere he was
missed. Sigs

As for Alexis, when once the sheep-hut was well
alight he began to repent of his boldness. z

‘“*When Maratho comes home again he will kill me
for this!’? he thought, ruefully. At last he resolved
to. run away and join the men he had warned of dan-
ger. There was but one way to their camp—the track
by which the Turks had been led; but as all firing had
now ceased, Alexis concluded that the affray was
ended.

He had not long passed the overhanging rock, how-
ever, when he began to hear shouts and groans and
the ring of clashing steel. The Turkish ammunition
being exhausted, the desperate fellows were forcing
the fighting hand-to-hand with the bayonet,

Soon-the boy stopped aghast, for there in his path
lay the body of the Turkish captain, with a bluish
wound above the brow. It was the first dead man
Alexis had ever seen. Alas! he saw many afterwards
in the disastrous fights that ended at Domoko, and it
had a horrible fascination for him.

Eveh as he gazed a clatter of steel made him glance
aside to see a foaming, crazy-looking Turk rushing at
him with fixed bayonet. Unarmed and defenceless,
the lad could only take to his heels, and. in half g
dozen strides ran almost into the arms of a Greek
soldier.

The latter, his rifle at the ‘‘present,’’ shouted to the
pursuing Turk to surrender. Whether he understood
or not, the fanatic paid no heed, but with his bayonet
lowered for the thrust ran straight upon'the Greek. It
was the heroism of madness. There was a report, and
the Turk pitched forward and rolled over at the feet
of his foe.

In a few moments all was ended. The few invaders
who would consent to surrender were marched - back
to camp: the bodies of others strewed that fatal slope,
with many a white-kilted foe beside them to show
how bravely they had fought and died. .

Alexis, seeing an excited crowd in one corner of the
camp, went up to it. In the centre, his arms bound
behind him, stood the vile Maratho. In clearing the
hillside of Turks the Evzonai had found him concealed,
and seized upon him as a probable traitor. Two offi-
cers were even now listening coldly to his torrents of
explanations and entreaties, whilst half a dozen pri-
vates kept their furious comrades from the captive.

‘¢Well, does anyone here know the fellow?’’ said the
younger officer at last.to the crowd; and his glance
happened to rest on young Skopelos.

At that moment the traitor’s eyes met his herd’s
with such a hurited, terror-crazed, appealing look
that Alexis hesitated with the words of accusation on
his lips.

“Tf no one knows him, he must go!”’ the lieutenant
said reluctantly. Still Alexis paused in doubt. -

Then across the boy’s mind there flashed the wordgi

of One who taught forgiveness of enemies, and hé
turned silently away.

(

 
   

 

 

(“Lom FENWICK’S FORTUNE”’ was commenced in No, 19,

CHAPETER XV>
TOM’S NEW ALLY.

ETURNING confidence for confidence, Tom
without going into unnecessary detail, ox-
plained to Straight Arrow what had sent
him into the wilds with his companion,
from whom he had been but that morning
separated.

Something like a smile of intelligence was
visible on the young Indian’s face. Certain phases
of human nature are akin in every ageand nationality,
and Straight Arrow (whose real name was Carl), had
enough white blood in his veins to enable him to un-
derstand that something more thana mere friendship
for John Bruton had sent this broad-shouldered young
fellow such a distance in the wilderness.

‘White girl pretty. I ses her one two week’ go,’’
he said, eyeing Tom shrewdly.

‘You! Where, Straight Arrow?’ was the eager re-
sponse.

‘“‘Blueskin camp side us one night at forks Bad
River. He on way pass in mountains. Got camp dere.
Carry girl. Then he sen’ word to her fader s’pose give
Blueskin big moneys, girl come back all right.’’

‘‘But don’t you think Bruton and the cowboys can
overtake him, or find the camp in the Pass???

Straight Arrow shook his head energetically.

“*Wa can do noting. No-stores, hosses tire out long

fore get to foot hills. No good try.’’

A wild, almost fantastic thought suddenly flashed
through Tom’s veins. With the help of the young In-
dian could not strategy accomplish what brute force
might fail to do?

He glanced cautiously about him. The five other In-
dians were grouped around the fire smoking.

‘Straight Arrow,’’ Tom whispered, coming at once
to the point, ‘Show would you like to have five hun-
dred dollars—all your own??’

Now to the intelligent, balf civilized Indian, money
means precisely what it does to his still better in-
formed white brother. Only whereas the sum named
would seem comparatively trifling to the latter, to the
former it would be a small fortune. It would meana
Winchester, a herd of ponies, a snug log cabin on the

 

    

Back numbers’can be obtained from all newsdealers.|

reservation—and not unlikely the prettiest girl of the
tribe for a wife.

Such possibly were the visions flitting through the
halfbreed’s mind at the mention of the sum.

‘Like good to have; but s’pose no can get, how can
have?’?

‘Help me get Dolly away from Blueskin and I'll

give you that—yes, and fifty dollars more,’’ was the
excited response.
If Straight Arrow was surprised, he did not let it be
seen. Accustomed from boyhood to hear of the daring
deeds of his own people, as well as those of the sturdy
plainsmen, the proposed undertaking did not seem such
a desperate one by any means.

‘¢You mean dead earnest???’

6¢V as, 29

The Indian hesitated.

“7 think um over. You stay—these Injun not hurt
you—only steal. Bimeby soon I tell you.’’ And nod-
ding gravely, Straight Arrow walked away.

Stay! Well, Tom had no other resource, unless in-
deed the Sioux drove him away or left him. to his
fate. But neither of these two last named contingencies
occurred.

With the exception of keeping a sharp lookout upon
Tom’s equipments which they had appropriated, his
captors appeared perfectly indifferent as to his moye-
ments. He slept under the same blanket with Straight
Arrow, shared their food, and rode his own _ bronco.
The leader of the party, who rejoiced in the title of
The-Dog-That-Bites, had once referred to Tom’s_ per-
sistent following:

‘“S’pose you goto Injun camp—mebbe bad Injun kill
white fellow.”?

‘‘Maybe white fellow kill bad Injun,’’ returned
Tom, smartly—a retort which brought a_ perfect
chorus of ‘‘hughs’’ from the others.

‘‘Anyway,’’ Tom went on, encouraged by a side
glance from Straight Arrow, ‘‘I’m going to camp
with you. I don’t mean to starve to death here among
the mountains, and don’t you forget it,’’

As the Sioux had no intention of taking Tom’s life,
owing to their wholesome fear of the white man’s re-
tributive justice, there was no other way out of it, ex-
cept to let him gu. And so for three successive days

6
~ 1138

aniong the hidden fastnesses of whose principal pass
was Blueskin’s camp.

All this time Straight Arrow had said nothing as to
his decision. Nor did he allude to it till on the fourth
day after Tom’s capture the little collection of
“*wickups’’ and tepees for:ning the summer camp of
nearly two hundred reservation Sioux came in sight
on the bank of the Virgin River. Then he spoke:

‘I do what you want. Talk first with Wainee.’’

‘*Wainee? Who’s he??’’ ;

_‘*Wainee not he—her she,’’ returned Straight Arrow,
getting slightly mixed in his grammar. And for an
Indian he looked decidedly embarrassed, whereat Tom
laughed, having an inkling of the truth.

The encampment, as seen at a little distance, was
oue of picturesque interest. The tepees, with conical
tops, stained in brilliant yellows and _ reds, stood out
with fine effect against the background of willow and
cottonwood that bordered the swiftly rushing river
in the rear. In the middle of the encampment was. the
chief’s lodge—a more pretentious structure than - those
around it, and, as Straight Arrow ‘informed Tom, it
was here that Wainee dwelt with her father—the chief
of this outlying branch of the Sioux tribe.

Indian ponies cropped the rich herbage on the out-
skirts. Noisy Indian boys were shooting at marks and
pitching quoits. Indian braves lay stret¢hed at indolent
ease in the shade on buffalo robes, while their patient
squaws brought water from the river and wood from
the nearest timber.

The arrival of the party created no particular sensa-
tion. A few boys gathered about the dismounted
riders, casting furtive glances in the direction of
Tom, who was rather at a loss as to-his further move-
ments. His rifle and revolver were handed round for
examination—while The-Dog-That-Bites made some
brief expldnation regarding the unlooked-for appear-
ance at the camp of Tom himself.

Straight Arrow had a lodge all by himself, on the
very verge of the river bank. It was built very in-

geniously from bent poles covered with the dressed -

skins of deer and wapiti. And no surprise was ex-
hibited when the young half breed, who seemed a gen-
eral favorite, took Toni with him to this primitive
abode.

A wash in the river and a hearty meal of venison
broiled over the coals were the first things in order.
And then, thoroughly exhausted, Tom stretched him-
self on a pile of skins, and-slept till long after sun-
down.

When he awoke, Straight Arrow was sitting beside
him, and before l’om could’ speak the young Indian
said:

‘Tt all right. I talk with Wainee. She told how we
do.72

‘‘Do what??? asked Tom, who was not quite thor-
oughly awake. Indeed he was trying to remember
how he came to be sleeping on a pile of dressed deer
hides instead of the green sward, with the interior of
an Indian lodge meeting his waking gaze in place of
the blue of the overreaching sky.

‘“‘Get white girl Dolly *way from Blueskin. You
forget?’

No, Tom hadn’t forgotten, by any means. Sitting
up, he rubbed his eyes vigorously as he listened to the
young Indian’s further explanation.

‘‘But, Straight Arrow, we never could carry out
such a—a—wild scheme,’’ exclaimed Tom, staring at
the balf breed after the latter had unfolded his plan.

‘‘Oh, ‘spose you ’fraid—that  dif’rent.’’ And
Straight Arrow shrugged his. shoulders very express-
ively.

‘(Afraid !’’? repeated Tom, with something like in-

dignation—‘‘afraid! Well, 1 guess not!’

“Then all right. Morrow day, we get ready. Wainee
say so.” Q

‘*Who is Wainee—your sister?’’ mischiavously asked

om. ;

‘“*No. Wainee chief’s daughter. Her father Man-Not-
’Fraid-in-the-Dark. Her mother Navajo woman. I
not stay ’mong Sioux here—too much steal—only for
Wainee. S’pose I get five hundred dollar, her father
say he give me Wainee for wife. See?’? 2

Tom saw this very plainly, also that Wainee’s wom-

_an’s wit had been sharpened by the pecuniary pros-
pect. Though what she proposed was so seemingly
difficult, not to say dangerous, that Tom had _ serious
doubts as to the possibility of carrying out even the

the coming of the morning,

- ARMY AND NAVY
the party kept their journey toward the Virgin Range, —

first part of the plan, and anxiously enough he waited
when he should meet ~
Wainee face to face. eee

—

~ CHAPTER XVI.

TOM’S UNDERTAKING.

‘¢Well—you are a hard-looking subject, Tom!’?

The unflattering remark was uttered by ‘Tom, as he
quizzically regarded the reflection of his sunburned vis-
age and travel-strained apparel in the river prepara-_
tory toa morning wash. :

And he was not far from the truth. His face was
purned to the color of brick dust—his hair fell rough
and unkempt about his shoulders. His deerskin hunt-_
ing shirt and leggins were frayed and patched in
places, while the stout canvas and leather shoes he.

* had substituted for riding boots were full of holes.

‘Nice appearance I shall make being introduced to
Wainee!’’ was his disconsolate thought, as an hour
later he was escorted by the young halfbreed to: the
lodge in the middle of the encampnient. Se

Wainee, who was a pretty olive-featured girl with ~
dark liquid eyes, sat in front of the lodge, weaving a
gayly colored blanket in a loom of primitive construc-
tion. Nodding pleasantly at Straight Arrow-and his
companion, Wainee laid down the shuttle with »which
she was working the long fillets of wool into the «warp
and woof of her blanket. Then sheaddressed the young
halfbreed in their own tongue—her inquiring glanee at
Tom indicating its import. epee

Straight Arrow replied at some length, and his an-
swer seemed to give perfect satisfaction. be

Wainee rose, shaking out her neatly embroidered
skirt of soft buckskin as naturally as a city belle might
do. Then she beckoned tue two to follow her into the
lodge. a
The Man-Not-Afraid-In-The-Dark was absent on a
hunting trip. An old crone,. wearing a blanket.,.over
her bent shoulders, sat at one side with what is called ©
a ‘‘medicine bag’’ in her lap. This was Wainee’s

~grandmother-~a woman famed for her skill as-a doc-

tress and supposed powers, of sorcery, fortune-telling
and other similar accomplishments.

Obedient to a sign from pretty Wainee, whose dark
eyes danced ‘with mischief, Tom seated himself cross-
legged before the old woman, who, mumbling some-
thing between her toothless jaws, began operations,

From a corked gourd, which had formed part of the
coutents of the medicine bag, she poured sonie colorless
liquid on a soft wad of Spanish moss. This she applied
liberally to Tom’s face, neck and shoulders, as ‘well
as to his hands and arms as high up as the elbows,

While this was drying, his hair, which was quite as
long as that of the average Indian, came in for its
share of attention. Asan Indian with brown locks
would be a decided anomaly, Tom’s were stained to
jetty blackness with some preparation of which the In-
dian woman alone knew the secret.

‘‘But how am IJ ever going to get it off??? was Tom’s
rueful interrogation as he glanced at his hands and
wrists, that were turning the true copperish tint of the
redskin. nA ater

Straigut Arrow repeated the question in his own
tongue: The old woman replied briefiy. tear

‘*Water an’ nothing else no good. But plenty’ seap-
weed wash Tom white—hair, everything.’’ This ‘was'a
comforting assurance, and Tom, knowing tHatéthe
soapweed abounded in Arizona and New Mexico /be-
came more reconciled to his-fate. iG ott

A vigorous fanning for drying purposes follosved.
But this was not all. Behind a partition of skinsiTom_
exchanged his cowboy attire for tbe full dress,of a
young buck of the Sioux tribe. Over deerskin leggins:
was drawn the skirt of similar material—both being
dressed by some peculiar process to the softness of
chamois or ‘‘wash leather,’’ as we term it. A pair of
moccasins, similar to those worn by Straight Arrow,
were added. Then Tom rather sheepishly came out
from behind the screen. tania

With a merry laugh Wainee, who had been awaiting
his coming, extended a sinall handglass. . a SCS ae

No wonder that as he glanced into it, Tom ‘started
back with an exclamation. His metamorphosis was
something startling. The high cheek bones of the In-
dian alone were wanting: Otherwise he had been trans- ~
formed into an adimirable imitation of a young Sioux,

 
 

who might indeed*have passed as a brother of Straight
— Arrow. ;
ATR, said Tom, ‘‘I don’t know a word of your
“Janguage—what am I going to do about that?’’

Straight Arrow laughed a little.

‘*Wainee make all right. She say you do—so.”’ And
the halfbreed touched his finger tip first to his lips
-and then to his ears, at the same time shaking his
head.

In his imperfect English he explained that, as in the
case of an idiot or an insane person, a deaf mute
among the Indians was treated with great respect as
being directly afflicted by the Great Spirit.

It: would seem that the news of what was being done
had been pretty generally spread throughout the en-

campment.~For when a little later Tom emerged from
} the lodge, accompanied by Straight Arrow, it was to
; find himself the center of what was literally an admir-
( ing crowd.

) . It was plain from the approving nods and _ brief ex-

clamations that while as an ordinary white Tom had.

been regarded with comparative indifference, as a

young buck Sioux he was an unqualified success. Men

_ patted him on the shoulder—women and young girls

looked their approval. It was embarrassing, but one of
the unavoidable penalties of his new situation.

* » -Hiverything seemed to have been provided for, thanks

— to Wainee’s forethought. Twenty dollars from the

money belt containing Tom’s worldly wealth sufficed

toiredeéem his horse and accoutrements from the. In-

} =Spoils. But to Tom’s regret, his rifle, revolver, ard
! ‘theother articles taken from him were not to he
| bought back. :

“¢*No can have um,’’ was the stolid reply to all his
offers. So Tom was tain to content himself with a

short breech-loading carbine of the old Sharpe patent,

which, with a well filled cartridge belt and stout
i butcher knife in a sheath, was supplied him by
1 Straight Arrow himself.
: Almost the entire population turned out on the fol-
} lowing morning to see them off. For gossip isas preva-
lent in an Indian encampment as in a down East
Hh village. Every one knew where they were going and
- all about it, and that if Straight Arrow earned his
five hundred dollars, The Man-Not-Afraid-In-The:
Dark would consent that Wainee should leave his lodge
to become the young halfbreed’s wife. So quite a gen-
eral interest was manifested in the undertaking.
Wainee accompanied them on her pony a few miles
outside the encanipment. And when she whispered her
~good-by to Straight Arrow in the Indian tongue, her
dark eyes were full of tears.

And now began a journey upon. which Tom looks
{ . back with a sort of wonder at his own powers of en-
durance. The rarified air of the higher land cracked
his skin and parched his lips—the strong sun glare half
blinded him.
% Sometimes the way led over sloping alkali beds,
ye from which rose smothering clouds. of dust, while on
i every hand bunches of sage and cactus were the sole
_ vegetation.
ee . Drenching showers from the mountains alternated
B), F with the scorching heat from a brazen sky. Fierce
: morning winds from the gorges chilled them to the
, a marrow. Fallen forests of pine disputed their progress.
Often they suffered from hunger, when game was

-scarce; more than oncefrom thirst, when the water-
holes were dry.

oitAnd yet through it all there was a certain seuse of
enjoyment. The free mountain air, the adventurous na:
ture of their undertaking, the wonderful scenery,
which no pen can adequately describe—these were a
‘continual source of pleasure to a young fellow like
-Tom, in vigorous health and exuberant spirits. And

~mever absent from mind was the one deep-seated hope
that success would crown their undertaking, and
through his own instrumentality Dolly Bruton would
be restored safe and unharmed to her father.

So day after day the two held their way until the
wonderful chasm in the mountain range known as the
Virgin Pass was reached. And far up near the timber
land to the left, Straight Arrow pointed to acurl of
blue smoke rising skyward.

gs

it ‘‘Blueskin camp,’’ he said, quietly. ‘‘Now, Tom,
re, brace up!’
5) Straight Arrow’s vocabulary was enlarging rapidly.

4

io.

ARMY AND NAVY ees 1139

«dian to whose share they had fallen in the division of.

CHAPTER XVII.

IN BLUESKIN’S CAMP.

Mountains, snow-crested and cloud-capped, on every
side, Between them a gigantic gorge—barren and wind
swept on the north, fertile and well timbered on the
south. Beside a brawling mountain torrent, fed by the
melting snows thousands of feet above, are a collection
of smoke-stained tepees, and two or three lodges, built
of poles and boughs thatched with water rushes. Over-
head are towering pines, eighty and a hundred feet
high, through whose tops the mountain breezes are
forever sighing. Under foot the thick green mosses
alternate with lush grass, bespangled where it is ot
trodden by the feet of man.or beast, with the daisy
and buttercup—the bluebell and the wild rose.

Indian dogs with drooping earsand tails skulk hither
and thither, with the furtive look peculiar to this
much abused canine tribe. A rude corral contains some
two score Indian ponies.

Such is the camp of Blueskin and his Ute followers,
who, with their families, roam restlessly from place

to place, living by hunting, by trapping, and by.

plunder. The so-called ‘‘braves’’ make occasional in-
cursioas to some frontier town for firewater or aniniu-
nition; the squaws and children attend to the work of
the encampment.

Dolly Bruton, looking paler and thinner than when
we last saw her, was sitting listlessly beside the moun-
tain torrent, tossing bits of bark and twigs from time
to time into the foaming eddies.

Dolly Bruton—but bow changed as to the outer
woman, if | may so express it! For the whim of her
captors had forced Dolly to adopt the dress of an qn-

dian maid as better suited to her surroundings. Yet.

this had a sort of picturesqueness, after all. She wore
a loose blouse waist, with a skirt of doeskin reaching
to the ankles, deftly embroidered with porcupine quills
stained in colors, and beaded mocsasins on her small
feet. She had been allowed to retain her jaunty little
hat witb its cardinal wing. Herdark hair fell ina
heavy braid from under its rim. é

Dolly was not alone. By day and night Nanita was
her constant attendant. Nanita was a halfbreed, with
Mexican blood in her veins—tall, well-formed, dark
avd handsome, with a beauty of Mexican rather than
Indian type. Whether she liked or disliked Dolly the
latter could vot fully decide, any more than she could
tell whether she—Dolly—liked or disliked Nanita, who
was singularly reticent of speech and reserved in man-
ner.

But Nanita was her jailer, in a certain sense. Wher-
ever Dolly went, Nanita was ever at her side. For this
Dolly was not entirely ungrateful. It freed her from
fear of annoyance by her captors. Not but that she
had been treated with the utmost respect—wary Blue-
skin knew too well the value of his pretty prisoner.
But was not Montez one of them? Montez, who in In-
dian guise had assisted in her abduction, and who
later, appeariag in his true colors, had annoyed her
with his enforced attentions; pretending even that he

had joined himself to Blueskin’s band, after learning |

their purpose, with the sole object of befriending her,
aud if possible aiding in her escape.

‘* Hive—almost six days since the messenger was sent
with the letter to father,’’ said Dolly, wistfully.

‘There is many day to wait,’’ replied Nanita, who
had the wonderfully musical voice so often heard
among Mexican women. ‘‘It may be that he returns
not yet,to his ranch,’’? she went on, as a little sigh
escaped Dolly’s lips. ‘‘Perhaps he still seeks the trail
of Blueskin—quien sabe?’’ ce

‘‘There would be a bitter reckoning with that red-
skinned wretch if he and the boys should find this
camp,’’ said Dolly, clinching her small fist vindic-
tively.

Nanita only laughed carelessly.

‘*Rest tranquil, little one. The hiding-place here =

not-easily discovered.’? - :

Dolly was about making reply when Nanita touched
her arm.

‘¢Strangers,’’ she said, laconically, pointing as she
spoke to two horsemen who were ridng toward them.

‘‘Tndians,’’ pettishly exclaimed. Dolly; ‘‘oh, i am -

so sick of the sight of them.’’ For more than once
since her imprisonment the encampment had been
visited by straggling reservation Indians—Utes, Nava-
joes and even Apaches in twos and threes.

 

 

 
   

1140 :

The approach of the strangers made no stir whatever
among the dozen or more men idling about the en-
campment. The newcomers walked their horses, which
bore the marks of hard travel. slowly past the spot
where the two females were sitting. At a sign from
Nanita both drew rein.

Nanita, having her due share of woman’s inquisitive-

ness, questioned them in the Indian tongue. Only one
replied. The other sat mute and motionless, with eye
seemingly fixed on vacancy. Yet while Dolly was re-
garding them both with a sort of idle interest, the sil-
ent dne flashed a sudden searching look on her sad
ne which was something more than one of mere curi-
osity.
Dolly’s heart began to beat quicker than its wont,
she could not tell why; but she turned away witha
little shrug. He was only an Indian, and she had seen
enough of the noble red man to last her a lifetime—so
she told herself.

‘«Well, what does he say?’’ she asked Nanita, as, fin-
ishing his explanation, the young Indian, motioning
to his mute companion, rede directly into the encamp-
ment.

‘He is from the party of Sioux camped a six days’
ride distant. His brother with him came into the world
without speech or hearing.
to another tribe in the South. Their horses need rest.
‘So they have turned aside to Blueskin’s camp.’

But Dolly had already lost her interest in be new-
comers, who had been received with Indian hospitality.
Their ponies were taken from them and the chafed
backs of both horses treated with bear fat; after which
they were hobbled where they could have. their fill of
short, rich buffalo grass.

Tom Fenwick and Carl, as Straight Arrow had de-
sired Tom to call him, for of course these were our
two friends, were conducted to one of. the three lodges,
and food was placed before them by Blueskin’s favorite
wife. Blueskin himself was unusually complacent, and
treated ‘Tom particularly with a sort of awesome re-

spect.

Fret to themselves, the two, having finished their
meal, stepped outside the lodge and seated themselves
near the door. They had arrangeda sort of sign manual
between them, which, really meaning nothing what-
ever, would give the impression to onlookers that this
was their mode of communication with each other.

_ Presently Carl rose and strolled toward Blueskin’s
lodge, leaving Tom sitting mutely and apparently in-
different to his surroundings. But if those in the vi-
cinity could have known how his heart was beating,
or how hard it was to restrain himself when all at once
the skin curtain before the door of the next lodge not
ten feet away, was drawn up, revealing to his eager
gaze Dolly Bruton looking wistfully toward the setting
sun!

‘The effort at restraint was harder yet a moment
later. For approaching the lodges was a young man
whose dress no less than so much of his features as was
visible under the wide rim ot his sombrero, showed
that he was no Indian. His attire, partly that of a

plainsman and partly of the Mexican ranchers, was not
devoid of a certain picturesque grace quite in keeping
with the surroundings.

— Balancing a rifle across his arm, he came forward

 

The two are on their way

ARMY AND. NAVY

with a rather jaunty step. At the* ce: of Dolly,
framed in the doorway, he halted, dropped his pony’s.
lariat, and raised his sombrer o—disclosing the dark,
handsome face of Montez. oa

‘¢Buenos dios, senorita.’?

Dolly nodded rather coolly, considering the fact that
Montez was young, good-looking and withal the only
white face in the camp.

‘*Ah, Mees Bruton,’ said Montez, effusively, ‘‘why
is it that you are to me 80 cold—me, who risk so much
to serve yous who plan continually how to effect: the

escape?’’

‘¢Because I don’t like you. More—I don’t believe
what you say is true,’’ was the uncompromising reply.
Evidently Dolly’s tongue had lost none of its piquancy.

Montez’s dark face flushed. Then he suddenly noticed

Tom, who lingered by the door of the other lodge. The

Mexican eyed him sharply.

‘*He is not one of us,’’ Montez observed in an under-
tone. ‘‘Speak not so loud, senorita. ’?

‘*Speaking loud or low don’t matter to him. He isa
deaf mute.’’ And then Dolly curtly explained.

Montez seemed satisfied.

‘‘You say you believe me not?’’ And he made a
passionate gesture. ‘‘But it is all true. I tell Blueskin
that for revenge on John Bruton, I join with him to
steal you from home, I only do ‘this that I ee you
escape.’?

‘¢Why haven’t you helped me, then?’’ .

‘The time is not yet. And Nanita watches you us
the hawk.”’

While speaking, Montez cast swift glances about him. ,
The deaf mute stood immovable—his eyes appar ehtly
fixed on the glowing west. In the distance Carl was.
surrounded by a number of the Utes, who were listen-
ing to something he was _ telling—probably
digious falsehood. Nanita was nowhere visible. “dn
fact, the coast was clear.

Before Dolly was aware of the Mexican’s ineoatioa.
Montez sprang to her side and possessed himself of one
of Dolly’s small hands.

‘*Ah, senorita bellissima,’’ he began in Tp
tones, Lut is this my affection——”’

Now Dolly was not one of the screaming kind; - put,

startled and indignant, she wrested away her hand, ut-

tering a little cry.

Of course the deaf mute could not have heard it. >It
must have been that he had looked around just in time
to see the entire proceeding.

Howevel this was, Dolly’s pleading cry had_ hardly
been uttered when with a bound like that of an ante-
lope, he was inside the lodge,

Tom’s thews and muscles were in tolerable training
when some weeks previous he had_ pitched Montez
headlong into the watering-place at Bixon’s. But ‘his

active, hardy, out-of-door life had now developedian —

almost inordinate degree of strength, and this was in-
tensified by his rage.

Montez, himself no mean ae aconicy was as a’ ahd
in Tom’s ‘powerful elutch. Almost before he realized
what had happened, be was whirled swiftly round and
sent flying through the lodge door, assisted by a VOnRO-

ful though unfortunately harmless kick from ee s

mocecasined foot.
[ro BE CONTINUED. |

some pro-—

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

     

 

 

 

 

(Copyrighted, American Publishers’ Corporation.

|A YOUNG BREADWINNER;

OR

GUY HAMMERSLEY’S TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS.

The Story of a Brave Boy’s Struggle for Fame in the Great Metropolis.

By MATTHEW WHITE, Jr.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

->|Meanwhile,
colonel.

(“A YOUNG BREADWINNER” was commenced in No. 22. Back numbers can be obtained of all newsdealers.)

 

CHAPTER VIIf.
MRS. HAMMERSLEY CLOSES WITH THE COLONEL. —

e1’s cheeks, to be succeeded by a deadly
pallor. Sne held the letter, so cruelly
worded, out to him, and with one swift
glance he had taken in the contents.

“Tt is all through me,’’ he told himself.
‘‘Mr. Sinclair has heard of my dismissal
from Fox & Burdell’s.”’ >
Mrs. Hammersley is speaking to. the
But what is this:she is saying?

‘¢Golonel Starr, I have decided to accept your offer.
Consider me at your disposal, that is, on one condi-
tion.’’

“tAnd what, madam, is that?’’

The colonel’s eyes glistened, and his two hands crept
near to one another, as if to be all ready, in case the
coudition should not be too hard a one, to rub them-
selves against each other in token of felicitation.

‘‘That you give my son a position with the troupe.
I cannot be separated from him.’’

The colonel’s hands spread apart, and one sought
his knee, while the other was rubbed reflectively
across his smooth-shaven chin.

»-¢Ah—um,’? he murmured. ‘‘What are the accom-
plishments of your son? Er—has he inherited any of
your talent in the musical line?’’

Again that strange look came over the mother’s
face, but, as before, it vanished in an instant, and she

_ was siniling as she replied to the colonel’s question:

“No, Guy is not musical except in the sense that he

- loves to listen to fine performers; he does not even

so far as I

play the banjo. His only accomplishment,
Is your

am aware, is in the line of keeping accounts.
business staff full?”’

- $¢Well,’’ rejoined the colonel, ‘‘you know the man-
agement of a concert troupe is not such an onerous
affair as that of an opera company would be; but if
your son would consent to accept a small salary, I
think I could. fix matters. If—for instauce—he
wouldn’t mind taking tickets—I can offer him six dol-
lars a week.”?’

‘*Very good; we will close with that, then,’’ inter-
posed Mrs. Hanimersley, in the tone of one who wished
that the interview should be ended.

‘¢Wxcellent, madam,’’? exclaimed the colonel, rising
with cheerful alacrity. ‘‘You have removed a great
weight from my heart; that weight the fear that 1
could not secure you. Now if you will only sign your
name to this brief screed, I can go on my way rejoic-
ing.’

As he spoke, the colonel took a sheet of foolscap,
pretty well filled with writing, from his pocket, and
handed it, with a fountain pen, to Mrs. Hammersley.

It would be well-nigh impossible to describe Guy’s
feelings during all this. Utter despair would come
about as near to it as anything.

What would be the result,of his mother’s placing her-
self within the power of this man whom, in spite of

his fair speaking. Guy coyild not but distrust? And it _

~.

     

was all owing to him, Guy, for had not Mrs. Ham-
mersley herself told him that his experience that day
down town had decided her in the matter? And now
this curt note of dismissal from the School of Music
had left her no choice in the matter.

And this, too, had doubtless come about through
him! To be sure he was not guilty of the theft of the
thirteen dollars, but that did not affect the result.

So now he felt that his tongue was tied. He had al-
ready said as much as he dared. Instead of objecting,
on account of-a mere prejudice against the personality
of a man, ought he not rather to feel grateful that
they were able to make such advantageous arrange-
ments?

Supposing Colonel Starr had not turned up. What
would have been the prospects for his mother and him-
self now both were deprived of their positions? Surely
he ought to look upon this opportunity to join the
forces of the Starr Concert Company as one of the
most fortuitous circumstances that had befallen them
since their struggle with the world had begun.

And yet, try as he would to see things in this light,
he shivered inwardly as he saw his mother take a
music book from the piano, place tlie sheet of foolscap
upon it, and then write her name at the bottom in her
pretty, graceful hand.

‘There, madam!’’ exclaimed the colonel, who made
no effort to conceal his delight at the realization of his
hopes, ‘‘you are now fairly embarked ona career
that I am certain will redound to your good, not only
in a pecuniary sense but in fame as well. This, in your
case, will be almost, if not quite, as good as money;
for of course when your twenty weeks’ season is over,
you will be at liberty to renew with me, or others, on
your own terms.’

‘¢And when do you want—that is, if you will be
kind enough to give me some directions, Colonel Starr,
as to what you wish me to do,’’ rejoined Mrs. Ham-
mersley, by no means showing in either voice or man-
ner the enthusiasm that was expected of her.

‘“‘Oh, to be sure. First I want you to meet Miss Far-
leigh. She is a charming girl, 1 assure you. If you
like, I will call for you to-morrow morning, and we
will go down to her hotel and see her. We can then talk
over the make up of programmes, tbe date of our
first performance, and so on.’’

‘(Ts Miss Farleigh’s mother with
Mrs. Hammersley.

‘‘No; she is an orphan, and bas come over with her
brother, a young man about your son’s age, I should
judge. Heisto travel with ustoo. They will make
pleasant companions for each other.’’

‘‘Talks about me as if J were nine - years eld,’’ said
Guy to himself; and he felt a deep sense of relief
when the colonel shook hands and bowed himself out,
with an appointment to call the next day at ten.

‘‘Mother,’’ said Guy, as soon as the door closed on
them in their own rooms, ‘‘did you read that contract —
befere you signed it?’?’

‘‘Certainly I did.
what he told us.
greatly, Guy?”’

‘*Because of his whole manner,’’ the boy burst out,

her???’ inquired

It was simply a repetition of
Why do you mistrust that man so

©

 

 
 

 

 

1142 :

%

m her guard against any tricks Starr
irreverent manuer that Guy always thought of the

about them,’’ he told himself as he dressed,

‘*He is too plausible, too smooth-speken. I may be
wrong; and [ feel that when I have brought all this
upon us——’? —

‘“*Guy, do not speak that way,’’ cried his mother.

_**Tt is not you, it is the harsh, cruel injustice of the

world. I never wanted you to go away from me, and
just as soon as I am sure that I can do well with the
eoncert company, I shall insist on your giving up your
position as ticket-taker.’?

‘‘But Ido not want to live upon you,”?
Guy. ‘‘I am seventeen, and surely——’’

His mother stopped him with a wave of the hand and
a smile.

«¢You need not be idle, my dear boy. If all goes as
I trust it will, I shall need you to manage my affairs.
All singers have their managers, you know, and you

objected

can be mine. And, by the way, I wish you would stop

in at Ditson’s to-morrow; morning and get me some
music | want. I will make you outa list.”

Guy slept but little that night. Hisbrain was too full
of dire foreboding and unavailing regret. His mother’s
very cheerfulness was a source of worriment to him.

He was afraid that she would not be sufficiently on
(it was in this

colonel) might try to play at her expense.

At last he fell asleep from sheer weariness of the
efforts he had been making to woo slumber, And such
frightful dreams as he had!

In one he was a hangman, with the task of executing
thirteen shop girls, who all, as,they came up under
the fatal noose, pointed a finger at him and muttered,
‘“‘You did it, you!’’ In another he saw his mother
drowning before his eyes, while a man with gold-
rimmed eyeglasses fiddled away on the bank of the
river for dear life, and would not let him approach to
save her.

Thus it came to pass that in the morning he did not

awake with that usual feeling of buoyaney which is-

such a valuable attribute of youth. And yet the bril-
liant autumn sunshine which streamed in at the win-
dow gradually infused him with hope in spite of him-
self, and ‘‘I cannot improve matters by worrying
‘and I
can make mother’s burden heavier by putting on glum
looks.’’

So he put all the gloom of yesterday away from
him, and his ‘‘good morning’’ to his mother had the
cheery, old-time ring to it.
in the reflected brightness he saw in her face.

Promptly at ten o’clock Colonel Starr presented him-
self, and, finding that Guy had not gone downtown,
invited him to go along to Miss Farleigh’s hotel.’

“You will find her brother there,’’ he said, ‘‘and

will be able to make his acquaintance.”’

CHAPTER IX.

A SUDDEN MOVE.

The hotel at which the Farleighs were stopping was
within walking distance of the Hammersley’s boarding
house, and within twenty minutes our friends found
themselves in a sunny room, being warmly welcomed

“by a tall girl with a deep, rich voice and a strangely

sweet face.

‘¢T am so glad to see you, Mrs. Hammersley,’’ she

said, as she gave that lady’s hand a lingering pressure.
‘¢You know all my friends in this country are men,
and though they are very kind, yet I hunger at times
for a confidential chat with some one who will remind
me of my sister. You know Ward and I have never
been away from her before. She has taken care of us
ever sidce manima died.’’
Poor girl! she was only eighteen, and so homesick,
and the sight of Mrs. Hammersley’s motherly face
went straight to her heart and impelled her to make
all these confidences in a breath, as it were.

While she was speaking a young fellow of sixteen
entered the room, and was at once presented as

_ *¢prother Ward.’’
Guy took to him at:once, as how could he help doing

when he was the living image of his handsome sister,

only a trifle shorter and carrying his head a little
more confidently?

It. transpired that Miss Farleigh wanted some new
music, too, and before the boys had a chance to ex-
change more than half a dozen words, Colonel Starr
suggested that Gug show Ward the way to Ditson’s.

Sm, =

ARMY AND NAVY

And he had his reward —

e

Nothing loath, he expressed his entire readiness to do
so, and the two were soon walking down Broadway to-
gether. ay

“‘Do you know,’’ began young Farleigh, as soon as
they were in the street, ‘‘I find it almost impossible to
realize that Iam in America. A month ago I had no
more idea of coming than of taking a journey to Mer-
Gury. : ,

‘“Then—you have not known Colonel Starr long?’’
asked Guy, intuitively, for.he was anxious to ascertain
hew the Farleighs came to have business relations with
the impresario.

‘Only two months,’’ was the answer. ‘‘You see,
this is the way of it. My sister—my elder one, Gwen-
doline—has let our house in London for lodgers since
father died, and Colonel Starr stopped with us when
he was over this summer. He heard Ruth play and
just about went wild over it. Declared that she’d
make a fortune if she only came to America, and fin-
ally persuaded us into it. I was just out of school, and
sister had some money saved up to start me in busi-
ness, but the colonel told us that in one season the
amount would be quadrupled, so we spent part of it to
cross.and the rest of it is going in’ hotel bills. And I
say, what do you think of Colonel Starr? How long
have you known him??’’

‘‘Since yesterday,’’ answered Guy, fully prepared
for the whistle of astonishment with which the state
ment was received. ; cS

‘¢And—and hasn’t your mother known him any
ee ee added Ward. E

oe oO.

‘¢Tben you can’t tell me any more about him -than
I know already,’’ summed up the English lad, and he
turned on Gay with an odd motion. of the eyes and
mouth which the latter found not much difficulty iu
interpreting.

As if by mutual agreement the subject of Colonel
Starr was now dropped and the boys talked of New
York and the sights thereof until they reached Dit-
son’s, where each purchased the music of which he
had a list, and then hastened back to the hotel. But

that brief interchange of words about the colonel had

served to make the two better friends than a whole
day of ordinary converse would have done.

They found the two ladies alone, Mis. Hammersley
at the piano, playing an accompaniment to Ruth’s
rendering of a beautiful composition of Vieuxtemps’s
on the violin. They stepped in quietly, and Guy lis-
tened with charmed intentness till the piece was fin-
ished, when he broke into involuntary applause.

lt was the first time during his waking Hours that
he had forgotten the burden that episode at the office —
of the Fireside Favorite had laid upon his heart. :

‘*We are to give our first concerf next Thursday,
Guy,’’ said his mother. ‘‘Colonel Starr has gone off to
make the final arrangements now, and we start, Wed
nesday evening.” ee

‘““Why, where are we going?’? exclaimed Guy. ‘‘I
thought we were to make our first appearance here at
Chickening Hall.’’ :

‘*No, he has been compelled very suddenly to change
his plans, and we are to go West at once.’’

‘*What part of the West? Anywhere near Cincin-
nati?’’ asked Guy, quickly. Rie

‘*No; to some town in Pennsylvania I never heard ~
of before—Brilling, I think the name of itis. But you
can see that we haven’t much time to spare.”’

It was indeed rather short notice, but the rush of
preparation accorded well with Guy’s feelings. He
seemed to himself to have lived in a constant whirl
since just twenty-four hours previous when he had
gone on that errand for Mr. Fox.

Besides, with plenty to occupy his hands, he was
not so prone to worry his mind with useless repinings
over the nature of the enterprise on which they were
now embarked. :

Miss Stanwix seemed sincerely sorry to lose her
boarders, aside from any financial interest she might
have in their departure. Indeed, she had occupants for
the vacated rooms already booked. 5

Not one word did Mrs. Hammersley say to Guy
ahout that curt dismissal from the School of Music.
He could not help wondering if he would have felt
any easier in his mind had the worthy colonel not.
turned up. ee

‘Certainly we should have been worse off in that
case,’’ he tried to assure himself, and by the day of
departure he had in so far succeeded that he was en-

%

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

iP

ec

‘whitening my hairs before their time.

 

abled to get up a feeling of considerable curiosity to
see the other members of the Starr Concert Company,
whom he expected to find on the train.

_ The Hammersleys and the Farleighs had arranged to
go down to the ferry in the same carriage, and on ar-
riving there found the colonel waiting for them, a bou-
quet of roses in each hand, one of which he handed to
Mrs. Hammersley, the other to Ruth Farleigh. He
had also provided tickets for the entire party, with
pleasant quarters in the Pullman, and soon after the
train started led the way to a well-spread dinner table
in the dining car.

‘*But, Colonel Starr,’’ queried Ruth, as they took
seats and she noticed that all the chairs were filled
‘*where are the rest?”’ ;

‘ The rest, Miss Farleigh? The rest of what?’’ and
the colonel smiled affably as he bent over the shoulder
of the fair young prima donna. -

“Why, the rest of the company,
thought we should find them all here.’’

‘*Ah, cruel one, to remind me at this auspicious mo-
ment of the ‘shop,’ of the business cares that are
Ah, sucha
‘heavenly’ tenor, as you ladies would say, as I had
secured, and now he sends me word that he has the
diphtheria and has been taken to the hospital. And
my accompanist, a buffo bass of wonderful “abilities,
has been served with a subpoena as a_ witness in an
important case and cannot join us till next week some
time’

to be sure. I

Guy,and Ward exchanged swift, meaning glances, -

while Mrs. Hammersley exclaimed: ‘‘Who, then, can
lay my accompaniments. Have you secured a substi-
tute???

“(And who will play mine?’’ added Ruth.

‘*T should be most happy to give this young man a
position, if he will aecept it,’’ and the colonel placed
his hand for an instant, with an air of paternal guar-
dianship, on Ward’s shoulder. ce

‘tT??? The boy looked around in unbounded astonish-
ment. ‘‘Why, I have never played for any one but
Ruth in my life.’’

‘But you are a quick reader of music,’’ interposed
the colonel, suavely. ‘‘I have heard your sister say so.
With just a little practice I will warrant you will do
beautifully, and that reminds me, Master Guy,
wouldn’t you like me to relieve you of that ticket-tak-
ing business, and earn your salary on the stage in-
stead?’’ .

Guy’s amazement far exceeded Ward’s. But the
colonel did not allow him time to more than draw _ in
a long breath preparatory to protesting his inability
to do anything of the sort.

‘tT heard from Miss Stanwix how you had _ enter-
tained the household there one evening by reading a
series of humorous selections. JI have a stock of some
excellent productions in my satchel which I will show
you after dinner, and I am sure that with your voice
aud presence, you can: make yourself a noteworthy
feature of the evening’s entertainment. For a good
reader is a rara avis, and when he appeals to the hu-
morous side of the great American people his success is
assured. And now let us drop ‘shop’ and take up din-
ner.’

CHAPTER X,
THE ARRIVAL AT BRILLING.
Our friends of the Starr Concert Company were . not

due at Brilling until three o’clock in the afternoon of
the next day. Meantime, as the colonel spent much of

- his time in the smoking-car, the quartette had ample

opportunity to discuss the situation among themselves.

“And the Farleighs were as much. astounded as weré
the Hammersleys on realizing that the troupe was not
a large one, consisting of at least half a dozen artists.
It had now resolved itself into an organization of only
three; for Ward was merely to play the accompani-
ments.

‘**1?]l tell you one thing that strikes me as jolly
queer,’’ he said, as he and Guy occupied seats together
while the berths were being made up. ‘*‘You know
when the colonel opened his satchel to get out those
books for you. Well, he threw a lot of things out on
the seat next to me, and among them was a_handbill,
and I’m positive neither Tellman’s nor Dart’s name

2

ARMY AND NAVY

 

1143

was on it. Now these must have been printed some
time ago, and the colonel claims that he did not know
of the defection of these two men till this afternoon,
and he had no time to replace them.’’

‘¢And you.conclude?’’ interjected Guy.

‘‘That he never intended the company to consist of
more members than at present constitute it. As far
as I can make out, we ‘show,’ as they callit, only at
one-night stands, so if the public in one town are dis-
gusted, it will be too far away to affect the business
at the next.”’

‘(In plain terms, then,’’ went on Guy, ‘‘you believe
Colonel Starr to be a fraud.’’

““T’m afraid he is,’?’? answered Ward, ‘‘but I wouldn’t
for the world have my sister know it. You see, she has
signed with him for the season, and I suppose he could
make things mighty unpleasant for her if she should
attempt to break the contract. Besides, we’d be
stranded without a thing to fall back upon; not
money enough to take us- home, and only enough te
pay our expenses for about a week.’’

“But if you believe Colonel Starr to be an irrespon- ~

sible person,’’ interposed Guy, ‘‘it seems to me that
you . will not be any better off by remaining with
him.’

‘Oh, but. you see it’s just this way,’’ responded the
other, ‘‘Ruth’s contract says that she is to have an
eighth of the gross receipts. Well, if the thing doesn’t
draw, he can’t get enough himself to go on with, and
perhaps the little we should get would be enough to
buy our passage back home. Of course if. my sister
was on a regular salary things would be different.”’

‘‘Then you are of the opinion that the only one to
be cheated is the public, are you?’’ asked Guy, half
laughingly. Z

‘‘It looks most awfully as if that was the case,
doesn’t it now?’’ rejoined Ward. ‘‘AndIsay it without
any disrespect to your mother or my sister. But the
thing that’s actually bothering me the most is the
idea of having to play on the stage of an opera house,
for that’s where we open, the colonel says. If I get
rattled, you see, it will not hurt me so much as it
will your mother and Ruth.’’

‘*But you won’t be obliged to face the audience as I
shall,’’ returned Guy. ‘‘And if they don’t like what I
am reading, I know I shall feel it, and you can imag-
ine what sort of an effect it will have upon me. Still,
as long as it lets me out of taking tickets I suppose I
shouldn’t mind.’’

The fact of the matter was, Guy felt that he
wouldn’t have minded anything very much if cnly he
could be relieved of that cloud of suspicion that -he
felt was resting over him in the minds of at least
twenty persons, and perhaps many more, back in New
York. The memory of that fearful experience was ever
present with him to dampen his joys, intensify his
fears, and make him, in short, as different from the
high-spirited, light-hearted fellow at Fairlock as it.
was possible for the same individual to become,

Again that night he slept but little, and it was not
till the train slowed up for Brilling that he forgot,
for the time, the Old Man of the Sea load he was
carrying. Even while making himself familiar with
the humorous selections he intended reciting thatenight,
he was sensible of a dull burden of contrasting gloom
tugging away at his heartstrings meanwhile. But now,
with the bustle of getting baggage together, prepara-
tory to quitting the cars aftér their long ride, and
the natural curiosity to see what sort of a place Brill- /
ing was, he forgot for a time his bete noir. se

The town! appeared to be a good-sized one, with 4
preponderance of frame buildings, from the midstof
which the Brilling Opera House stood out like a giant
among pigmies. It was close to the station, and the
travelers passed it on their way to the hotel.

‘*See there! What did I tell you?’’ exclaimed Ward,
nudging Guy just as they were opposite the gaudily
painted entrance. ‘‘Look at those billboards. Those
posters must have been printed five days ago at least.’’

They were certainly very elaborate, done in three
colors, with a picture of a blue girl, with yellow hair
streaming down her back, playing on a green violin.
Above this marvelous figment of the artist’s imagina-
tion—for Ruth Farleigh’s hair was almost black, and
worn in a Psyche knot; she never dressed in any light
colors except white, and most certainly she did not use
a painted fiddle—the boldest of bold type set forth the
fact that Brilling was to enjoy an entertainment by

 
 

itt

x

_ ing about like this.

This brightly colored (in more senses than one)
poster then went on to say:

Miss Farleigh will be Assisted by
Mrs. FLORENCE KING,

The Eminent New York Soprano,
Mr. REGINALD FAIRFAX,
The Famous Boy Orator, and
MASTER CLAIR DUFFET,

Only Fifteen, and Accompanist.

‘‘Who is Mr. Reginald Fairfax’? Guy wanted to
know. i

‘‘Why, that’s you, of course,’’ returned Ward, ‘‘and
‘Master Clair Duffet, only fifteen,’ is your humble
servant. Not content with turning me into a French-
man, our friend the colonel must needs dock me of a
year on my age. I suppose he’ll be wanting me to ap-
pear in knickerbockers to sustain the illusion.’’

Poor Ward spoke better than he knew. They had
barely reached the hotel, where the two boys were
assigned a room together, when the colonel presented
himself-in the doorway, smiling contentedly, and rub-
bing his hands together in a manner which, as Ward
whispered to Guy, ‘‘meant business.’? :

‘‘Here we are, young gentlemen,’’ he began, ‘‘all
ready to commence our work. As soon as the ladies
are a little rested we shall walk around to the opera
house for a rehearsal and meantime—ah, by the way,
Hammersley, you brought your dress suit with you,
did you?”’

‘‘Ves, I have it in the trunk here,

and expect to
wear it to-night,’’ replied Guy.

ARMY AND NAVY soe aes | -
THE STARR CONCERT COMPANY,

€ombining an Unequalled Array of Talent, headed
by the Peerless and Unrivaled English Girl Violinist,

RUTH FARLEIGH.
-Applauded by Two Hemispheres and Excelled in None.

melancholy reflection.

‘‘And you,’’ went on the manager,
Ward, ‘‘have you yours with you, too?’
‘‘T haven’t any,’’ said the boy, bluntly.

turning “t¢
o> f

 

‘¢‘ Ah, that is too bad,’’? murmured the colonel, and —

for an instant he seemed to -be buried in profoutid,

head brought two fingers of his right hand with an im-
pressive whack against the palm of his left. =a

“The very thing!’’ he exclaimed. ‘‘You English
chaps are always playing fvotball and other sports,
aud I’ll warrant you have a pair of knickerbockers ‘in
your trunk. They’re coming into style again, you
know, so you can wear them.’’ Pe

Ward was speechless for an instant. Then, with all
a Briton’s blood in his face, he retorted: ‘‘Colonel
Starr, I have no suit such as you describe with ‘nye,
and if I had, I would not wear it. I did not expect to
appear as a performer when I came away, and if 1
can’t go on in my black cutaway and ~white tie, I can
stay off and content myself with occupying the posi-

~ tion it was originally intended I should fill—that* of

escort to my sister.’’ ‘ eth
‘Oh, well, I only spoke for your own good ‘and
with an effort to make you feel as comfortable as pos-
sible during the performance,’’ returned the <colovel,
with most unexpected mildness, and then he quietly
withdrew. (OSS
‘“That man is terribly exasperating,’’ broke forth
Ward, when they were alone.
a fellow by getting mad. I expected nothing less th
to have him storm out at me when I let loose on’!
in that fashion, but——’’ HELE
‘(Still waters run deep, you know,”’’ interposed Guy,
‘Cat the same time I am glad you asserted your tide-
pendence. You would have cut a pretty figure seated
at the piano in-a football suit.’? Poitie
‘““Shouldn’t I? Only imagine it!’’ HRM
Then they both laughed, felt better, and soon after-
ward weut over to the opera house with the ladies’ for
a rehearsal, little dreaming that an incident more
marked than Ward’s appearance in a football suit’ was.
to make the evening performance memorable, Lote

 
 
  

an

    

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

A ALS ALA ALLELE

‘TWIXT FIRE AND STEEL.

 

 

BY GEORGE Q. FARQUHAR. :

FTER the recent spell of stifling heat—
heat accompanied by alarming earth-
tremors and by a renewed activity on
the part of Yusi-tao, the Smoke Moun-
tain—any decrease in the temperature
was doubly welcome, especially to those
Americans whom choice, chance, or enterprise had led
to settle in the Land of the Rising Sun. From the
veranda of Mr. Urwin’s bungalow one could see his

_ silk-factory in the town below, with the square stone-

‘built counting-house at the farther end of it.

‘On this particular day he was about to take himself
thither when a double ’ircksha with two Japanese
‘boys’? in the shafts, rattled up to the gateposts.
From his vehicle a stout, middle-aged man alighted

-and burst excitedly into the house. _

_ “What’s amiss, Fraser?’? ejaculated Mr. Urwin in
astonishment. ‘‘ You’ll have apoplexy if you go scurry-

Anything wrong?’’

The office—broken

 

‘*Wrong—wrong!
gone-—-—’? |

‘CHh, what’s that! Goodness me! don’t stand gasp-
ing there, man. Out with it!’’

into—money

Yet even when the overseer had managed to recover

his breath, he could add little to the information al-
ready blurted out. On reaching the warehouse that
morning he had found the office door unfastened, and

SS

~ certainly, sonnie.

 

the desk; in which a considerable sum of money had
been deposited overnight, pried open and plundered
of its contents. At once he had dispatched a messenger
to the Japanese gendarmerie, while he himself ‘had
lost no time in bringing the unpleasant news to/chis
employer. HO

‘*Burglars, eh??? cried Mr. Urwin, jamming his hat ~

down over his brows. ‘‘T'he bare-faced impudence of

the scamps! Come along, Fraser; 1 must wake: dhe

authorities up over this business myself.’ ehor
At the moment of entering the waiting ’'ricksha,

they were joined by .a sun-bronzed boy, who came

dashing across the garden towards them.

‘¢Oh, dad, I wanted to ask you if I might take Taffy
for a gallop this morning? You know, he’s getting;so
jolly fat and lazy, he won’t be able to trot——’’ 31h

‘‘Don’t bother me, Ralph. I’ve something else «to
think about than you and your pony,’’ rejoined ‘Mr.
Urwin testily; then, more kindly, ‘‘Taffy? Oh, yes,

Only don’t worry me now.’?) 9)

Ralph, gazing surprisedly after the two men as they

were whisked off down the road, pursed up his dips

-into a whistle.

‘Whew! 1 wonder what’s the row! It takes a lot to
put the pater into such a pepper as that. Anyhow, it
isn’t me this time, so I needn’t trouble. Besides, I’va
also something else on hand just now.

Lay,

Then he suddenly raised this ~

‘*He won’t even please -

I’m going to-
“tackle that!’’ - es
And Ralph looked wistfully toward the distant cone —

 

 

 
ARMY AND NAVY

of Yusi-tao, from which there rose a thin column of
black smoke, that. bulged and spread itself at the top
like the branches of a gigantic tree.

“‘Tt’s quiet enough now,’’ murmured he, as if to
justify his contemplated escapade. ‘‘There can’t be
any danger in making the ascent. And in the last let-
ter I received from cousin Ted, he said whata high
old lark it must be to have a real live voleano in one’s
backyard. Of course, it isn’t quite that—but—but—
no; I can’t face him and tell him I’ve never been
-within three miles of it. What an arrant duffer he’ll
think me!’’

Ralph little guessed that, when he set sail for school,
he would be able to carry with him the memory of an
adventure compared with which the ascent of a five-
thousand foot peak would seem an everyday occur-
rence.

.» The preparations for the projected expedition were
soon completed. Having provided himself with a stock
ot sandwiches and a water bottle—as well as with his
father’s stoutest stick, to be used as an alpenstock—
Ralph was presently galloping through the lanes on
the back of a rough pony. This was Taffy—shipped
Specially to Tokio by Ralph’s uncle.
_ Soon the town of l'yasaki was left far behind. Be-
tween rice and millet-fields rode Ralph, past the old
Shinto temple, with its. grotesque carvings and _ bril-
liant lacquer, until he came to a grove of tall
‘eryptomeria trees, where the ground began to rise more
-abruptly and assume a bleaker aspect. Fearing lest
affy’s knees should come to harm among the loose
“stones and jagged rocks if he urged the animal
further, Ralph tethered his mount to a wayside bush
and set out on foot to traverse the steep acclivities be-
fore him.
pe During the first hour or so he made steady progress;
and then the real difficulties of his task began to ob-
trude themselves. The surface of the mountain was
hereabouts strewn thickly with fine ashes and dross,
through which he floundered arduously; worse than
that, every now and thei he would encounter a stream
-ef molten lava, which compelled him to retrace his
steps or make lengthy and irksome detours. More
than once, out of sheer disgust, he was of a mind to

abandon his project altogeber; and it was after one
of these pangs of disappointment, while sitting munch-
ing his sandwiches in indecision, that he chanced to
eateh sight of a figure slowly and cautiously scaling
the ridge some three or four hundred feet below.
‘‘Now, what’s that fellow up to?’’?’ murmured Ralph,

in surprise. ‘‘I never heard of a native ascending
Yusi-tao for pleasure before—except Hunyaiken,
father’s Japanese clerk. He’s been up twice, he tells
me. Still, this can’t be Hunyaiken, for he’s hard at
it in the office to-day.”’

The stranger, unconscious of any watcher, held ona
course that would eventually take him over the shoul-
der of the mountain. Evidently he was only bent upon
finding a short cut—certainly an unfrequented one—
into the country beyond the chain of hills, and so into
the interior of the island.. At one point, as he clam-

‘ bered up a steep hummock, his features became clear-
dy visible to Ralph.
<ct*Tf is Hunyaiken!’’ cried the boy, in delight.
: ©What luck! He’ll be able to show me the easiest
‘route, even if he won’t go up with me himself. Hullo,
down there! Co—ee! co—ee!’’
«The Jap—a taller and more muscular individual
‘than the majority of his countrymen—looked up, with
«iterror-stricken eyes, his olive skin changing to a bil-
ious yellow. Instantly he dropped out of sight behind
taldédge of rock, making for cover with the instinct of
‘jashunted animal. .

‘Well, I’m jiggered!’’ exclaimed Ralph, at a loss
to account for this unexpected move. ‘‘This is a queer
place for hide-and-seek, and no mistake! Where the
dickens has he—Hi, come out of that! Isay, Huny-

~“ aiken—Hunyaiken.”’
‘VSeeing that no amount of shouting had any effect,
Ralph hastened down the hill until he arrived within a
dozen paces of the man’s lurking-place. Here he pulled
‘qp sharp, and with a scared face. From around the
-crocky ledge the saucer-hatted head of Hunyaiken was

1145

furtively thrust out, and in the ugly aspect of that
visage Ralph read the blackest and deadliest purpose.
With the stealthy tread of a wild cat stalking its prey,
the Jap crept forward, his slit eyes aflame, a fierce
snarl on his lips. In his right hand he gripped a
bared, brass-hilted’dirk. :

‘*Here, stop this tomfoolery!’’ cried Ralph, retreat-
ing step for step as the other advanced. ‘‘Let me tell
you it’s beyond a joke. I want you to come with
me——

‘*Not go, no!’’ interjected Hunyaiken vehemently.
‘*You wish to take me off plenty soon to the prison
house? You—you! No, 1 keeps the money—every yen
of it! I fly, so they never get it back once more. But
you see me and spy me out. Then you one too much,
and I kill you—I kill you now!’’

Although most of this jumble*was incomprehensible
to him, Ralph could not misunderstand the final
bios Surely it was a madman with whom he had to

eal!

‘‘Come, man drop that knife!’’ said he, coaxingly,

'*et me take you back to your friends they’ll wonder

what’s become of you. Father, I know, fully expected
to see you at the office to-day and when I say where I
met you, somebody’s certain to set out at once in
search——’?

‘‘Ha, you plenty mock—you plenty langh! But, no
you never go back now. Youare one, alone, and I stop
you pretty quick, bimeby—now !”’

Springing towards the lad, Hunyaiken made a
vicious lunge at him with the glittering blade. Ralph
skipped nimbly aside, at the same moment swinging
his oaken staff aloft and bringing it down with all his
strength upon the Jap’s outstretched wrist. The dirk
clattered to the ground near its wielder’s feet... As
Hunyaiken stooped to recover it Ralph darted past
him and tore helter-skelter down the mountain
ide.

Over boulders and across rugged gullies he dashed
at the hazard-of his neck, now slithering down pre-
cipitous inclines, now boot-deep in cinders and dust.
Not far in his rear—Ralph could hear the scoundrel
panting laboriously—bounded his assailant in hot
chase. : :

The distance between them had diminished percept-
ibly when, of a sudden, Ralph half’ checked his speed.
The look of affright upon his countenance grew more
acute he gasped despairingly. In front of him, ex-
tending in a sharp curve round the base of the slope
he was descending, stretched a sinuous stream of
molten lava, nigh twenty feet in width. His retreat
was cut off as by a river of fire!

Not for long, however, did Ralph hesitate. A flat-
topped rock, promising secure foothold, partially over-
hung the channel at one spot, and towards this he di-
rected his precipitate flight. Gritting his teeth, every
sinew braced to its utmost, he launched himself into
i air, and cleared the terrible barrier by an
inch,

The impetus of his rush sent him sprawling on hands
and knees, from which position he had scarcely man-
aged to scramble ere a yell of agonized horror from
Hunyaiken smote upon his ears. Ralph glanced back
just in time to see his pursuer swerve in mid-air, and
drop like a plummet into the middle of the molten
mass. The rock from which he had leaped, already
shaken by Ralph’s passage, bad toppled over. alto-
gether under the greater weight of the would-be as--
sassin. In his fall, Hunayiken had broken through
the thin hardened film over the lava, and he now lay, /
face downward, half buried in the fiery matter be-
neath, motionless—dead !

Four hours later, pallid and reeling in Taffy’s sad-
dle, Ralph presented himself at Tyasaki to tell his
tale. At once measures were taken to recover the
charred body and ill got dollars of the Japanese clerk,
whose crime had been followed by so swift and ghastly
a Nemesis. As for Ralph, wild horses could not haul
him again to the foot of Yusi-tao.

‘‘No more voleano-climbing for me!’’ he declares, if -
the topic is mooted. ‘‘Why, the mere sight of a piece
of pumice-stone is enough to give me a fit of the
creeps.’

 
      
    
   
   
  
  
   
  
   
  
    
 
   
 
   
   
  
   
    
    
   
  
  
 
   
    
  
  
   
     
  
   
  
   
   
   
   

i

_ announced next week.
ber of Army and Navy readers Mr. Graydon has no
_peer

commenced in No, 27.

Address all communications to ”’Army and Navy ,” STREET & SMITH,
238 William Street, New York City.

 

Four days from the date of this number of Army
and Navy will see the close of the ‘‘Criticism’’ con-
test. Those readers who have not sent in their criti-
cisms as called for in the announcement on the title
page should mail their letters at once. The terms of
this novel contest have been described at length in this
column. They are simple enough, and any boy or girl
readers of this publication can compete without
trouble. , A letter received from a young-friend living

‘in Milwaukee, Wis., say, plaintively:

‘‘Dear Mr. Editor: I have read all the numbers
mentioned in your ‘‘Criticism’’ eontest published to
date and I like them all equally well. WhatamI go-
ing to do about it. I know you want me to name only
one, but I can not really tell which is the-best, they
are all so good. Again, I ask, what shall I do?2”’

* * *

It is certainly pleasing to the publishers of the
Army and Navy to léarn that the stories issued by
them are of so high a character. And, especially are
they pleased that the naval and-military cadet novel-
ettes are so well received. When the Army and Navy
was projected it was decided tio devote it to a class of
stories of paramount interest to the young readers of
America. The field covered by the two Government
academies at West Point had never been utilized. It

was a fallow field, and a subject of exceeding promise. °

The services of two graduates, Lieutenant Garrison of
the army and Ensign Fitch of the navy were secured
and the result has been a series of fascinating novel-
ettes unequalled in juvenile literature. It isthe aim
and purpose of the publishers to cover every phase of
life at the two famous cadet schools, and our readers
can rest-assured that these stories will never lose their
engrossing interest. In passing it is well to say that

‘they can be found only in the Army and Navy. -

‘, * * *

William Murray Graydon, the author of ‘‘A Legacy
of Peril,’? and ‘‘In Forbidden Nepaul,’’ is at work on
a third serial for Army and Navy. The title will be
In the opinion of a vast num-

in his profession. He is,
charming stories, and his admirers are legion.

indeed, a writer of
Our

readers may be interested in knowing that Mr. Gray-

don is under contract to write exclusively for this pub-
lication. A story from his pen will form a permanent
feature of Army and Navy. His new serial will be

cme

°

* * x

Several letters have been received recently from

oe

‘boys desiring information and advice on the stage as

a future profession. In reply we can only say that the
theatrical profession is an exceedingly difficult one to
succeed in, and one which we would not recommend
any young man to follow for a living. The best
course, however, for those determined to follow it, is
to go directly to some one who fits people for the
stage. In New York City there isa School for Act-
ing, connected with the Lyceum Theatre. By ‘becom-
ing a pupil there you have the advantages of the very.
best instructors, opportunities of visiting theaters,
and an engagement as soon as you show yourself com-
petent. There are similar institutions in Chicago and
other large cities.

There are a few very rich actors in this country.
Mr. Jefferson and several others have made fortunes,
but they are distinctively men of genius: It is possible
to begin as the English actor, Irving, did by serving
an apprenticeship tu some obscure company, playing
in country towns ata salary hardly sufficient to pay
expenses. There is an. excellent opportunity to try
one’s ability as an actor by means of amateur theatri-
cals. Many of our smaller cities, and certainly all of
the larger ones, have dramatic associations, to which
persons showing a talent for acting are readily. ad-
mitted to membership. We would advise our corre-
spondents, who are still young, to join some -such so-
ciety, and then if their ability is conceded they will

do well to spend a year or more at some school for

acting, after which they will be fitted to go on the
stage, beginning with a salary of from fifteen dollars
a week upward. : =

* * *

F. H. H., of Jersey City, writes for information re-
garding the cigarmaker’s trade. The manufacture of
cigars in large cities is very extensively conducted by
the very poorest class, and hence from that point of
view any attempt at learning it would ultimately
prove unprofitable. There is no special course of in-
struction. The important knowledge to be acquired is
only gained after years of experience, and it has to do
with the quality of tobacco. Many of the smaller
cigar stores in New York City and also in other cities,
have back rooms where the owner makes up his own
goods, so that it is quite possible to start a cigar fac-
tory on a small scale. We can give no idea as to the
pay received by cigarmakers, but we are certain it is
something very small.

Vth Mowe,

 

 

 
 
 

 

 

   

 

(Brief items of interest on local amateur athletics at the various colleges and schools’ are solicited.

 

  

oe
it

i
SS

a

‘Descriptions and scores of match gaz, es

   

Sr

will also be published 1f sent to this department.)

Cycling Notes.

Michael, Bald, Loughead and Peabody have heen
the most interesting figures on the American track
this season. Speaking of European racing men who
have risen out of the ruck of ordinary champions
Senator Morgan says: ‘‘The great ones include Huret,
the long-distance Frenchman, while Bourrillion is a
leading short-distance man. Germany, in Willie Arend,
has a noteworthy successor to August Lehr, who meteor-
like flashed across the German racing sky in 1888 and
for several years after held the attention of the fast
division. Arend, by the way, is now under suspension,
caused by his vanity through winning the interna-
tional mile at Glasgow in something a little slower
than three minutes, on the strength of which he de-
manded a bonus and swore in German because he could
not get it. He is, however, a very fast rider. He has
since that time defeated about all the crack Huropean
riders. England, in Stocks and Chase, has two men

who easily uphold the prestige of a large list of cham-
he-

pions of the past, and England is making merry
eause Stocks holds the
mile in 1:35 2-5, which
beats Salvator’s time; so
in getting the mile John-
nie Bull gets the | horse
time as well. In Cordang,
Holland hasa long distance

champion who leads the
world, and is a worthy
suecessor to Kidderlien,

the famous Dutch sprint-
er.” oy

‘RMoreign racing men,’’
‘says a Westerner, ‘‘are
great attractions in this
country. Hven those of
mediocre ability meet a
hospitable reception, and
after a season’s sojourn, on
American soil return to
their homes well pleased
with their treatment and
substantially improved
with regard to their pock-
etbooks. There are not
many, with the exception
of Meintjes, Waller, Mich-
ael and perhaps Hale, who
can be pointed toas having
accomplished any remark-
able feats.on this side, and
yet few if any of them
have any difficulty in se-
-euring engagements for ex-
hibition work at race meets
er contracts with our man-
ufacturers. Asa matter of
fact it appears to be easier for any foreigner to sign
with and secure the backing of an American bicyele
making concern than for a racing man of native birth
to obtain salary and expenses from home ~enterprise.
Owing to the fact. that the American public takes so
much interest in foreigners it is profitable for any
maker to have one mounted on his machine, but as
soon:as the racing man sails for home he drops out of
sight and the benefit ceases, whereas if he were an
_ American he could be kept continually

We has spent his life in

ish-looking bicycle.

ported, has accepted

   

  

AN ELEVEN-POUND BICYCLE.

Here is the very latest bicycle design, a freak in ap-
pearance, but, according to its inventor, it is this kind
of a wheel which has time and again been predicted as
the style which the trade of the
A man named Pederson, of Denmark, is the
designing and constructing
bridges, but took enough time to construct this freak-

The frame of the wheel consists of twenty-one per-
fect triangles, and its total weight is four pounds, and
the machine all ready *to
pounds. A well-known American bicycle firm, it is re-
Mr.
will next year put this kind of wheel on the market.

%

in front, —

» More than five hundred finished

whether at home or abroad. Starbuck and McDufiis
have demonstrated that there are Americans who, re¢-
ceiving equal benefits in the way of pacemakers an
multiplets, are in the same class with Michael ant!
Lesna in middle distance work, and it is unfair to na-
tive talent to deny to American racing men what is
readily accorded the foreign visitors.’’

in the great cen-
tury run of the Century Wheelmen of New. York,
October 23. There were seventeen clubs in allin the
run and the prize for the largest representation was
won by the Century Wheelmen. ‘l'hree ladies finished.

Gridiron Items.

Football is naturally a rough game, and no man who
has a weak constitution or delicate build should at-
tempt te play it. It requires a fierceness and physical
strength that favors only those who are naturally
strong and healthy. The very fact, however, that foot-

ball involves a certain dan-
ger of teniper and anger
makes it a splendid train-
ing for its restraint. A
good player cannot afford
to be put off his team, and
if he loses his temper he not
only runs the danger of
such a happening, but be-
comes of little use to his
captain. Coolness is essen-
tial, and the man who can
\ go through the exciting in-
cidents of a football game
and still think is better
prepared for the struggle
of after life.

There can be no question
that in many instances
this protection of leather
and rubber is exaggerated,
and, like ‘‘long hair,’’ is
worn by babit rather than
need. It is not difficult to
train a healthy man grad-

 

able to withstand the
shocks and falis incident to
the game. It is because
these men start into the
game to learn it at the top
and not the bottom that
this unnatural methed has
to be employed. No mus-
cle or set of muscles can
perform an arduous task
without long preparation,
and whenthe big colle-

world would adopt.
inventor.

ride weighs but eleven

Pederson’s invention and

ually and by degrees to be.

~

ges, in their anxiety to obtain winning teams, permit -

raw men to play a regular game they, to say the least,
take a great responsibility.

It is now being conceded by all football experts that
the most dangerous team on the gridiron to-day is that
made up of the cadets at West Point. The gallant. sol-
dier boys play football with a skill and power that
promises to send them rapidly to the front.

 
 

 

 

ITEMS OF INTEREST

cS
ALA

eS

Shark Picking OH Cape Cod,

The novice on his first shark-fishing expedition is
generally a little surprised at the sight of the tackle to
be used.

The big coil of smooth, closely-made linen quarter-
inch line measures at least a hundred fathoms, and is
curled around two polished pegs made of whale’s teeth.
Fastened to its loose end isa length of brass chain,
perhaps four or five feet long, to which again is
clamped a ponderous fish-hook four inches across the
bend and with a shank at least ten inches in length.

Attached to the inside end of the coilisa bright red
_ painted keg, to be slung over in case the shark runs

out all the line. In time it will tire even the biggest

one, and then the gay-colored float will guide the
fishermen to their catch.

‘But while this inspection has been taking place, the
fishing sloop has arrived at a likely spot and it is time
to begin.

Surprise number two is experienced at the sight of
the fish and cod that are. to be used for bait, as they
are quite as large as anything that an oat angler
tries to catch.

A half cod is thrust upon the hook and still further
secured to it with copper wire, so that it cannot be de-
tached without the barb catching. It is then flung

- over, and the captain’s son, who has been coiling the
rope at the edge of the stern, begins to pay it out yard
after yard.

‘‘Thet’s plenty ‘nuff, en more too!’’ suddenly sings
out his father, warningly. ‘‘Don’ yer knew yit that
we can’t afford ter give er shark mor’n er hundred
foot er line at first? Ef wedo he’s liable ter yank us
clean ter whar fishin’ smacks sails with their bottom-
side up!’

Accordingly the bay. desists and all hands watch the
bait, now far astern, as it occasionally ripples up es
the top and then disappears again.

The white-winged terns swoop and circle around the
sturdy craft, as she stands over towards the East
Channel. Then, just when the novice is beginning to
imagine that shark fishing is, after all, a tame and
peaceful pastime, the boy waves his torn sou’ wester
from the bow, yelling out:

‘«Thar’s a good un not twenty fathom ahead!’? The
captain peers out under his hand, and then the _ be-
ginner sees the tell-tale sign— —the low, sharp, three-
cornered dorsal fin of Mr. Shark cutting ‘directly across
their bow. Now it turns. Will the shark see or smell
the bait?

Suddenly the water is broken where his big back
protrudes as with a tremendous leap, half rising from
the sea, he falls upon the cod. The line stiffens, and
everyone pulls hard on it to drive the big barb home.
Then the foam rises, and leaving a trail of bubbles be-
hind, the shark is gone.

The line goes hissing over the lee wash-board, and
again the captain cries warningly, ‘‘Hi, thar! Don’ let

_ yer han’ lie over too nigh that coil, mister, else ther
shark’ll get er full meal er man meat!’ And, indeed,
it would be fatal to let a loop of that flying cord en-
circle either hand or foot.

Now the big fish slackens his rush, and all three
Yay hold on the line with leather mittened hands to
guard against the friction. Too quick! He is not half
tired yet, and with another spurt, as they hastily
loosen their hold, he has run out a good twenty fath-
oms more,

‘*Snub’’ (stop) ‘‘ther ugly critter, snub him!’’ cries
the captain, setting the example by grasping the now
slowly-moving oe ‘‘He’ll hev all our string clean
tooken off.’’

Six strong hands, shaking with excitement, are now
clinging to the line. The effort is perfectly successful.

Vainly the shark pulls round in a big circle, the
radius of which is continually shortened by the hands

~

om poe

 

MX cS

ALL THE WORLD OVER.

 

hauling at the line. “Twice is he dragged within ten:
fathoinis of the boat’s stern, only to rally and be off
again like a greyhound. Finally, however, he is sub-
dued and led near the side, where his wicked little
grey eyes gleam up out of the green sea, and his
horrid jaw shows fierce and wide. But even then he
makes a despairing struggle which half pulls the cap-
tain over the stern.

It is his last effort. Surging from
ehurning the wayes into white froth,
ster lies yielding and helpless.

side to side ode
the aner mon-

A loop of heavy line is dexteriously cast over his.

broad tail and secured at both ends; he is drawn along- |
side, now almost still. A few blows on the nose with a
small crow-bar stun. him, ahd with a considerable.
effort he is hauled aboard. He is bigger now than ne

seemed in the sea.

‘*Hight good foot and four inch long,’’ says the.
captain, rising from his knees with a rude yard stick
in his hands. ‘Kr purty fair fish, don’t yer think??? ~

Famous in History.

Marcus Antonius possessed a dwarf, Sisyphus, not
quite two feet tall, and yet the Pos of a remar k-
able wit.

King Charles II. had in court a pigmy, Richard :
Gibson, This mite married Anne Shepherd, the queen’s _
dwarf, each being forty-six inches in height. Gibson
was a skilled artist, and his miniatures and por traits
are much valued.

The favorite of Queen Henrietta Maria, Sir Jeffery
Hudson, was presented to her Majesty in a pie, coni-
pletely armed asa knight. He proved a gallans, fiery
little fellow, and of considerable service to the royal
family. He became a captain of horse in the civil wars
and followed his mistress to France.

The page of honor to Mary Tudor, John Jervis by
name, was one of the tiniest dwarfs of his day.

Julia, the niece of the famous Augustus, had in her
services two pigmies—Canopus, twenty-nine inches
high, and Andromeda, her freed maid, who measured
just the same height.

Poland in the fourteenth century had a pigmy king,
Ladislas the Short, who is said to have won more vic-

tories than any other monarch of his time, and who

left a great name as a jurist, statesman and ruler. —
Christian I1., of Denmark, had a wee dwarf to at-
tend him, who was faithful to his master even im ad-
versity. He went to prison with the king, planned,
and almost effected the royal escape.

Dogs as Messengers.

The experiment of training dogs to carry messages
and to act as sentinels in the army has been made: in
Germany, and, it is said, with very encouraging. lee
sults. The dogs have now been in training for some -
time, and have made really wonderful progress.

The kind found to be most suitable for this work is
the shepherd’s dog. The plan adopted is to accustom
each dog to regard one of the soldiers as his master,
the conduct of his training being in this man’s hands. |

When on duty the animals are kept with the sen-
tinels. As au illustration of their intelligence, it is re-
lated that on one occasion a soldier, taking a dog from
the sentinel, went off to reconnoitre.

After making his observations, he wrote two reports,
giving one toa man mounted ong a_ fast horse, and
placing the other in a casket tied to the dog’s neck.
The dog reached the sentinel first. .

When it is considered how much smaller an object
a dog is than a man for an enemy’s fire, and how close
to the ground he can run, it seems not unlikely that
dogs may yet become of gr eat service in E Selitary
operations.

 

 

 

 
 

 

ARMY AND NAVY

Noricne.—Questions on subjects of general interest only are dealt
with in this department. As the Army AND NAvy WEEKLY
goes to press two weeksin advance of date of publication, answers
cannot appear for at least two or three weeks. Communications
intended for this column should be addressed ARMY AND NAVY
WEEKLY CORRESPONDENCE, P. O. Box 1075, New York city.

D. HE. A., Albany, N. Y.—1. You should have ex-
plained a little more fully what the paragraph stated.
~2, ‘*Volt?’ is the unit of electromotive force and ten-
sion; ‘‘ampere’’ is the unit of current, which is the
current produced by one volt through one ohm (the
‘unit of resistance). Ihe term ‘‘ampere’’ came from
Andre Ampere, founder of the science of electro-dyna-
mics. What is known as ‘‘Ampere’s theory’’ is that
magnetism consists in the existence of electric currents
circulating round the. particles of magnetic bodies,
being in different directions round different particles
when the bodies are unmagnetized, but all in the same
direction when they are magnetized.

W. T. B., New Haven, Conn.—The isolated moun-
tain in Switzerland referred to, Rigi or Righi, is in
the canton Schwytz, between the lakes of Zug and
Lucerne. The highest point, the Rigi Kulm, is 5,902
feet above the sea, or about 4,500 feet above the lake
of Lucerne. The summit is accessible by roads from
various points at the base. It is stated that about 40, -
000 visitors are attracted annually to the niountain, on
which are numerous hotels end sanitariums. The
railway to the Rigi Kulm was completed in 1873. It
starts from Vitznau, on Lake Lucerne, on the south
side of the mountain.

S. R., Scranton, Pa.—Camphor is the gum of several
kinds of laurel or bay trees found chiefly in Japan,
Formosa, Sumatra and Borneo. The tree is cut up into
small pieces and heated with a little water in large
kettles, which are fitted with round covers filled with

straw. The steam rises and wets the straw, and when
it cools the camphor is left in the straw in small
erains. The camphor of commerce is very impure,
and has to be refined before it is fit for use. There is
no substance which, added to camphor, will destroy
its odor and at the same time have no effect on its
composition.

D. S. Q., Cleveland, Ohio.—Yes, there are other
great falls in the world besides Niagara. The River
Rhine takes a plunge of about 50 feet at Schaffhausen.
In Sweden the. Gotha-Elf- falls 100 feet at Trollhata:
the Hjommel Sayka or Hare’s Leap of the Lulea is 250
feet high; and the Riukan Fos or ‘‘Smoking Force’?
at Mjosvand is no less than 800. The famous Staub-
bach, in the neighobrhood of Lauterbrunnen, has a de-
scent of 980 feet; but it is stated to be a mere brook,
and in summer almost dries up. It takes its name
from the dust-like appearance of the spray into which
the water changes in its descent. :

FL N. K., Port Chester, N. Y.—1. The seal swims
mostly by the aid of the hinder limbs, which are
worked like sculls, the front ones being used only to
turn’ about with. -On land it moves very awkwardly,
making short jerky leaps, and dragging the hinder
limbs along. 2. The fur of the seal in its natural state
is ‘yellow, spotted, and marked with brown, and unfit
for use until dyed.

-K, N., Buffalo, N. Y.—To extract rust from. steel,
the best plan is to immerse the weapon to be cleaned
for a few minutes in a strong solution of cyanide of
potassium until all dirt and rust is taken off. Then clean
with a small brush with some paste composed of cyan-
ide of potassium, Castile soap, whitening, and water.
These last are mixed in a paste about the consistency
of thick cream.

A Reader, Philadelphia, Pa.—We may shortly have
a story on the subject you mention.

_ A thlete,’?? Anderson, Ind.—‘‘Jimmie”’ Michael was
born in Wales.

 

 

 

 

(SPECIAL Norice.—To insure the safe return of stanips sent to us
for examination, correspondents should inclose them ina separate
Stamped envelope bearing name and address. The prices quoted
are from current lists and are subject to change.)

For the collector who wants entire sheets of stamps
with full imprint and plate number Hungary is a very
poor country to specialize in. In this country there
are no entire sheets to be had for love nor money, as
two persons are employed during the whole year to do
nothing else but tear the outer edges from the sheets
of stamps, and only in this condition are the stamps
sold, and even special endeavors have not succeeded
in getting sheets of the present issue before the mar-
gins bave,been torn off.

Porto Rico has issued two curious labels, which, al-
though of different colors are printed upon the same
piece of paper. Hach is 45x40 mm., in full size or per-
forated, but there isa frame of fine dotted lines a
little smaller. In the centre is an impression of the
current adhesive, very badly printed, at the top the
word ‘‘Centenario,’’ at bottom ‘‘Sitio de los Ingleses’’
(Siege by the English), at left ‘‘1797,”? at right
‘£1897.’? Both labels are of the same value, 3c. de
peso, and are printed in carmine and in deep blue upon

white laid paper. :

The franks used by the government departments are
nof classed as postage stamps by philatelists for the
reason that they do not represent postage paid or to
be collected, or any of the supplementary postal
charges, such as registration, insurance, return receipt,
‘*too late’’ fees, etc. No label or printed cover which
does not indicate the prepayment of some postal fee,
or show that same is to be collected from the recipient,
can be called a postage stamp. :

Many of the local stamp societies hold small auctions
after their business meetings. The first one for this
season was held by the National Philatelical Society
on the evening of October 12. There were about fifty
lots of U. S. and foreign stamps sold.

Many United States stamped envelopes in Confeder-
ate hands when the war broke out were converted into
official franks for the various departments of the Con-
federate government by means of a surcharge across
the face of the stamp.

The Japanese stamp issued prior to 1876 were printed
from separately engraved plates, as was the case with
early issues of Nevis, Philippine Islands, New South
Wales, etc. Hence all the stamps on the sheet were
different.

The early Liberia stamps ordinarily have three
lines around the design; those catalogued as ‘‘with
outer line’? have a fourth line at some distance from
the others, as in the series of 1880.

The local stamps of the Metropolitan Errand Carrier
Company have been reprinted in dark brownish red,
and alsoin blue, while the originals are in light.
brownish red only.

A new 1 pound stamp, for postal and revenue use,
has been issued in Tasmania. It is of the current de-
sign and printed in green and yellow.

A counterfeit of the rare British Columbia one dollar ~
stamp has been made in Germany, on which the value
was spelled ‘‘One Doller.’’

Constant Reader.—The U.S. cent of 1803 is worth 3
cents. There is no premium on the 1849 cent. Many
stamp dealers buy old coins.

W. F. D., Catskill, N. Y.—The U.S. cent of 1802 is ©
worth 3 cents. There is no premium on the cent of
1818.

J. B. S., Wheeling, W. Va.—There is no premium
on the cents of 1838 or 1854.

 
 

  
 
    
   
    
   
   
 
  
    
   
   
    
  
  
  
   
 
  
   
  
    
   
 
  
  
    
   
  
  
  

 

   
 

  
    
    

: | -ANIATEUR JOURNALISEE. | x:

ak af ® news NOTES “\ 4, JAE, AK,

NIE Fg) OF INTEREST TO THE @& (heee7s Ni4

u “aman (eee) ie
. @FAMERICA

 

 

 

 

 

Ls A SHORT STORY CONTEST.

To encourage amateur writers in the United States, Army and Navy offers a monthly prize of five dollars 3

in gold for the best short story written and submitted by an amateur author.

By ‘‘amateur authors?’ is

meant those who are identified with the amateur press of the United States in a general sense, aud who

are not regular contributors to professional publications.
Mauuscript for the first contest inust reach this office on or before De- .
Address all communications, ‘‘Short Story Contest’? Army and Navy, Street & Smith,

in length, and can ‘be on any subject.
cember 138, 1897. :
‘publishers, No. 238 William street, New York City.

Stories shoulds not exceed one thousand words

 

The National Amateur Press Association.

The National Amateur Press Association of America
(known as the N. A. P. A., or the Napa.) was organ-
ized in Philadelphia, July 4, 1876. Any amateur edi-
tor or author residing in the United States or Canada
is eligible to membership. The officers are a president,
two vice-presidents; a recording and foreign  secre-
tary, a general secretary, a treasurer, and historian,
‘three directors, a librarian to have charge of the
permanent library, and a recruit committee and
chairman, the committee consisting of one resident
manager in every state. The president and the con_
vention seat are usually the subject of a sharp politi
cal contest. For several months before convention the
papers discuss the merits of the various candidates,
but the best-of feeling generally prevails, Members
unable to attend the convention mail proxy votes for
theiz choice for the various offices. The ballots are
not opened by the custodian until election, when they
are added to those in convention. Thus, absent mem-
bers exert a powerful influence. Victor and vanquished
with their partizanus sit down to the annual banquet
as friends and comrades, with their faculty for enjoy-
ment not lessened by the exciting conflict. .

The official board for 1897-8 is as follows: President,
David L. Hollub, 1717 Leavenworth street, San Fran-
cisco, Cal; first vice-president, Horace Freeman, 7 Cen-
tral. avenue, Newark, N. J.; second vice-president,
Herbert Hauser, 1423 Bush street, San Francisco, Cal. ;
recording secretary, Edith M. Kreiner, 41 Dwight
‘street, Jersey City, N. J.; corresponding secretary,
Linden D. Dey, 744 West Fourteenth place, Chicago,
Ill.;: treasurer, Charles A. Bow, 100 East Twelfth
street, Portland ave.; editor, Walter C. Chiles, 171
La Salle street, Chicago, J[ll>; historian, Stella T.
Wayne, Ocean Springs, Miss.; directors, James F.
Morton, Jr., 1 Lynde street place, Boston, Mass.;
Edd. M. lind, 877 Hast. Hleventh street, East Oak-
land, Cal.

 

 

    
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
   
   
  
   
 
  

]

  
   

“, The official organ is ‘‘The National Amateur,’’ and

Ais sent. free to members. This magazine is published

~mmonthly, and contains the best amateur literature, re-
ports of progress in. America and foreign countries,
and departments devoted to criticism, instruction,
oooks, clubs, alumni and the success. of amateurs in
the professional field. The association holds a three
days’ convention in July of each year, alternately
east and west of the Mississippi river. They are looked
forward to with great eagerness, as furnishing the
opportunity to renew old friendships and form new
ones. Many amateurs travel thousands of miles to
attend a convention and feel well repaid.

An excellent plan adopted by Napa where to stimulate
literary activity of the highest order is the annual award
of titles, known as laureateships, to the authors whose
writings show the greatest merit. All articles entered
in competition are classified and sent to the judge of
‘the department. These judges are professional writers,
whose criticisms are of real value. The winner in each

. serials, short sketches, essays, criticisms,

department is presented with a certificate and allowed
to sign the title Poet, Serial, Story, Sketch, Essay or
Historian Laureateship during the year. A like award~
is given to the editor of the best~- paper and the mem-
ber publishing the best book. A certificate of honorable
mention is given for the second best entry in each de-
partment.

There is no initation fee, and the dues aré one dollar
a year. Its emblem, worn by members in pin or but-
ton, is a scroll crossed by a quill, with the letters N.
ACPik,

(Extracts from the ‘‘N. A. P. A.’ recruit cirecu-
lar.) e ;
Amateur journalism is a school of unparalleled value ~
to the young and timid writer. A little training fre-
quently produces remarkable improvement in literary *
style and expressing thought. There is no better dis-
cipline than seeing your writing in print, and reading
the comments and criticisms of your brethren. By_
degrees, crudities are pruned, faults of expression -
eradicated, a larger and better vocabulary developed,
and the talent shines forth. The world needs trained
writers, who have something to say, and know how
to say it.

Aniateur Journalism is a voluntary institution. No
member, unless in official position, consults any other
law than his own will; but’ only those. who are thor-
oughly active receive the greatest’ benefits. Activity
consists in the publication, monthly, bi-monthly, or
at less frequent intervals, of a paper or magazine,
usually 7 by 10 inches in size. It contains whatever the
editor wishes to insert. Manuscript of all kinds is:
furnished free on application to the national bureaus.
His editorials touch on amateur affairs and other sub-
jects of interest. Any person may issue such a paper.
The editor may do the printing, otherwise the cost is
from five dollars up. This expense may -be met by
soliciting advertisements or having one or more asso-
ciate editors. In addition to the subscribers he obtains,
the editor sends his paper to the members of the na-
tional associatioin. He will thus receive their papers
free. The editor does not pay postage on every paper
he mails; he enters his paper as second-class matter,
obtaining application blanks from any postoffice, and
mails them for one cent a pound. ‘nose who cannot,
or prefer not to, issue papers, write poems, essays,
histories of
amateur gatherings and biographies, according to
their preference, and send the manuscript to the na-
tional bureaus for distribution among thé editors. The |
standing of an active author is just as high as an ac-_
tive editor. é

To become an amateur journalist you merely start a
paper or write an article. Recruits are always wel-
come. Full information just how to begin, how to be-
come a member of the national association or press _
club, copies of the constitution and amateur papers —
will cheerfully be given by any of the officers.

 

 

 
 

  
  
  
 
 
  

 

 

 

 

-™, MW
sss

quedusceaenananae:
y

   

How He Got Rich.

Amateur Sailor (resting during a cruise)—‘‘This is a
pretty place. I hate to leave it.”’

Waterman—‘‘Weather’s purty bad.”’

‘‘Oh, I don’t mind the weather.’’

‘‘Tt*s blowin’a half gale an’ goin’ to blow wuss—.

reg’lar green souther.’’
“Blow high, blow low, it’s all the same to me. I
can sail my jaunty craft in any wind. They tell me up
in the village that you have made an independent for-
tune.’’
‘‘]7m purty well fixed.”’
‘¢‘Oystering and ‘ishing must be profitable occupa-
tions.’’
‘“No money in ’em.’’
“Bh? Then how in creation did you make so
much?”’
‘¢ Just rewards an’ presents an’ things.’’
‘¢Rewards? Presents? What for?”’
‘‘Pullin’? amateur sailors out o’ th’ water.”’

- oo

TERMS ON ’CHANGE.
“UPWARD TENDENCY

  
 
  
 

eS

dN

fl

LA
| [ii
(SS

 
     

   
  
   

)- oe

Sy

2 KE ye ou ye)
Gi ee Mi Bere

 

    

  

CD

Wo ah. bof: (i Re z os

ADECIDED MOVEMENT" IN PORK.

OUR JOKE DEPARTMENT. €€€

 

 

A Useful Accomplishment.

Father—‘‘Johnny, there’s a button off your coat. Go
upstairs and sew it on,”’

Little Johnny (in surprise)—‘‘Mother will sew it
on.’?

Father—‘‘I know she will, but-l want you to learn
to sew on buttons yourself.’’

Johuny (amazed)—‘‘Why?’’

Father (solemnly)—‘‘Some day, Johnny, when you
grow up you won’t have any mother—nothing buta
wife.’’

»*

Might be True.

Mrs. Clamps—‘'A man out West asserts that he is
living on air—nothing in the world but air. Do you
believe that?’’

Mr. Clamps— Well, I dunno.
live on bakers’ bread.’?

& eo

Over a Back Fence.

Neighbor Woman—
‘‘Your dog was chas-
in’ our chickens this
mornin’, an’ Ljest want
you to understand
that’s got to stop right
now ’?

Mrs. Mild—‘‘IT did not
, see the dog out of our
yard.?’

Neighbor Woman—
‘*He wasn’t. The chick-
ens was in your yard.”’

&

He Had a Piece.

Mother—‘‘What-— in
the world has become
of the other half of
that cake I cut for sup-

er???

Little Dick—‘' Y ou
gave it to'me.’’

‘‘Nonsense! You
asked if you could have
a piece of cake and I
said yes.’’

““VYes’m. I meant
the piece that was left
over.’”

ae

A Little Brute.

Near-Sighted Lady—
‘‘The boy who is try-
ing to tie that tin can
to that poor dog’s fail
ought to be-thrashed
within an inch of his
life—the horrid little
brute.”’

Maid—' ‘It’s
boy, mum.”

‘*My boy?”?

‘¢VYes, mum.”?.

‘Tell him if he’ll
stop I’ll give him some
cake.’?

A good many people

your

 
ise
A Sad Mistake S :

. Fruit Vender—‘‘1 feela bada.”?
_ Faithful Wife—‘‘Why you feela bada?”?

Fruit Vender—‘‘One of the peaches I sella thata man
-Was gooda.’’

é

7

= = Equal to It.

Max O’Rell tells of a boy who, when. translating at
sight in class, came across the phrase ‘‘Calmezvous,
~monsieur,

He naturally translated this by ‘‘Calm yourself, sir.

‘“Now, don’t you think this is a little stiff?’’ said Max
O’Rell, ‘‘Couldn’t you give me something a little
more colloquial? For instance, what would you say
yourself in a like case?’?

The boy reflected a few seconds and said:

**Keep your hair on, old man.’?

 

 

CONSUMPTION CURED.

An old physician, retired from practice; had placed in
-his hands by an East India missionary the formula ot a
simple vegetable remedy for the speedy and permanent
cure of Consumption, Bronchitis, Catarrh, Asthma, and all
Throat and. Lung Affectious, also a positive and radical
cure for Nervous Debility and all Nervous Complaints.
Having tested its wonderful curative powers in thousands
of cases, and desiring to relieve human suffering, I will
send free of charge to allwho wish it, this recipe, in Ger-
nan, French, or English, with full directions for preparing
and using. Sent by mail by addressing, with stamp, nam-

ee paper. W. A. Novus, 320 Powe?’s Block, Rochester,

Army and Navy
BINDERS.

 

This binder will keep your papers always clean and
smooth,--No more missing numbers. Handy to refer to
and ornamental as well as useful. Sent post-paid to any
address on receipt of price, 35 cents. Address,

STREET & SMITH,
_ NEW YORK CITY.

FOR ONE DAY'S WORK.

Boys and Girls can get a Nickel-Plated —

Wateh, also a Chain and Charm for selling

1 doz. Packages of Bluine at 10 cents each.:
fj Soud your full address by return mail and_

we will forward the Bluine, post-paid, and

a large Premium List. No money required.

BLUINE CoO., Box 96, Concord Junction, Mass.

Mention Army and Navy.

Send address on Postal and we
mail you alot of Gold Plated
Jewelry tosellamong friends

land full direcjions or keep half the money in-
ea of a Camera. By sending you agree to pay or re~
turn Jewelry on demand. Write your name, Mr. Misa
er Mrs., or we cannot send. Ad Dept. 13, N. ¥ T.Co,

656 E. 116th St., New York-
Mention Army and Navy.

THE DOLLAR TYPEWRITER
Puy ABCDEFGH gg

 

Eel

A Perfect and Practical Type Writing Machine for only ONE
DOLLAR. Exactly likecut; regular Remington Type; does the
Same quality of work ; takes a fools cap sheet. Com plete with
paper holder, automatic roll feed, perfect type wheel and ink-
ing roll; uses copying ink; in factitdoes allofthe work of &
high priced machine. Speed, 15 to 25 words a minute. Size,
8x4x0in.; weight, 120z, Satisfaction guaranteed, Price
$1.00. Postage 15c. Extra. ROBT. H. INGERSOLL & BRO..
65 & 67 Cortlandt St., Dept. Ne. 43 NEW YORK CITY.

Mention Army and Navy.

 

TAMPS in Album and Cat’s FRER.
Ageuts, 50 per cent,

105 Congo, &c., 5 cents.
500 games, tricks, paper 3 mos., &c., 10c.

REALM, Sta. A, Boston, Mass,
Mention Army and Navy.

ZTORMONS TABLETS

cure all disorders of the
Liver, Stomach, and Bowels,
Headache, Dyspepsia, Con-
stipation, Biliousness, Dizzi-
ness ; Clears the Complexion,
Increases the Appetite, Tones
the System, and is a Sure
Remedy for Depression of
Spirits, General Debility,
Kidney Complaints, Nery-
ousness, Sour Stomach, Dis-
turbed Sleep, etc.
PRICE, 25 CENTS PER BOTTLE.

 

as These tablets are sugar-

coated and pieasant to take. One

tablet gives quick relief.

Address TORMONS CHEMICAL CO., 2, 4, 6, 8 Duane St.
NEW YORK, |

Mention Army aud Navy Weekly.

A PACKET OF SCARCE STAMPS for 10c. Also. ap-
proval sheets. Chas. Keutgen, 102 Fulton St., New York.

Mention Army and Navy Weekly.
Soothing Syrup” for your chlidren

MOTH ER while Teething. 25 cents a bottle

~ Mention Army and Navy.

 

Be sure to use ‘* Mrs. Winslow’s