IMPORTANT NOTICE!

A serial on a timely subject by a well-known
author will be commenced next week.

Vol. 1. No. 18
Oct. 16, 1897

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GADETS’ NEW OUABT RE .

ANNAPOLIS NAVAL ACADEMY.
BY JOSEPH COBLENTZ GROFF.

Passing down Maryland avenue, Annapolis, and on through the main entrance to the Academy, the visitor
beholds on his left the Cadet’s New Our the most interesting as well as the most important building on the
grounds,

Although called the New Quarters it is anything but new, and has been condemned Py. nearly every Board of
Visitors annually for the last eight years.

Its location is very beautiful, being in the rear of a lot of carefully trimmed trees and a broad and perfectly level
expanse of green, kept Bcd: in the best condition.

‘It isa four-story brick building, with a broad stairway in the centre leading to the top, and with two narrow ones
at each end.

It is only fitted for the accommodation of about 225 cages and as a consequence a few cadets each year are given
rooms in some of the very old buildings, which were used many years ago for quarters, and which are situated in the
lower part of the grounds. The basement is put to various uses for the accommodation of the cadets. There are the
bath-rooms, the barber shop, the clothing and shoe repair shop and the kitchen.

On the first floor, to the left of the main entrance, is the office of the Commandant-of-Cadets, with the office of
the Officer-of-the-Day just opposite. All of the same floor to the right of the tower is used as a dining-room, and
that to the left of the tower is cut into small rooms for recitation purposes.

The second, third and fourth floors are occ. vied by the cadets exclusively, and there they spend the greater part
of the four years at the Academy.

Running through each floor, the entire length of the building, is a broad corridor, on each side of which is a row
of about 35 rooms. Almost all of these rooms are fitted for the accommodation of two cadets in each, and never are
there more than three in one.

On the first of October, when the upper classmen return from leave, and the new academic year begins, the new
fourth classmen (‘‘plebes’’) move from the decks of the old Santee into the rooms of the fourth floor, and the other
cadets occupy those on the two remaining floors, This arrangement, however, is always subject to change, according
to the varying wishes of the superintendent.

There are on duty in quarters at all times four cadets, the Officer-of-the-Day, whose office is on the first floor, and
a cadet in charge of each of the three upper floors, whose tour of duty is limited to his floor alone. He sits at a desk
in the centre of the long corridor, and is forbidden to study, to read, to write or to communicate with any one, except
officially, during his tour of duty. In a room fitted for two there are a table and book-shelves for both, and a single
bed, wardrobe, wash-stand and mirror for each.

The cadets alternate in taking charge of the room, in sweeping and dusting it, for a week at a time, and they
must see that it is in order at all periods of the day. There is a formal inspection of the rooms every morning by the
Officer-in-charge, The only period of relaxation comes at ten o’clock at night, when the trumpeters sound ‘‘taps”’ and
all lights disappear, leaving the tired cadets to their dreams of days when there will/be no more inspections of rooms,

{
‘

,

 

 

 

 
Army and Navy Weekly

Am WELKLY PUBLICATION FOR OUR BOYS.

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.

 

Octobet: 16; 1897. eV Ol ie NOs see Price, Five Cents.

 

CONTENTS OF THIS NUMBER:
Mark Mallory’s Peril (Complete story), Lieut. Frederick Garrison, U. S’A
An Ocean Mystery (Complete story), Ensign Clarke Fitch, U. S. N.
Jerome Gregoire, Deserter (Illustrated Short Story) D. H. Parry
In Forbidden Nepaul (Serial), William Murray Graydon ~
/ Dean Dunham (Serial) Horatio Alger, Jr.
The Ocean Stowaway (Sketch)
Courtmartialing an Elephant
Deep Sea Divers
Editorial Chat, : ; : : ; : : : Department
Athletic Sports, : : : . : ‘ : Department
Items of Interest all the World Over ; : : ; : : Department
Correspondence Column, : ‘ : : : : : : Department
Stamps Column, . : ee ; Department
Amateur Journalism —. ; i : : : : . Department

Our Joke Department

 

SPECIAL NOUCE:

@ esa

IN next week’s issue (No. 19) of the Army and Navy
- Weekly will be published the opening chapters of a splen-
did serial by Frank H. Converse. It is entitled “Tom Fen-
wick’s Fortune; or, The Gold of Flat Top Mountain.” This
story is one of the very best ever written by Mr. Converse,
and it treats of a subject of paramount interest at the present

- time. : :

 
Mark | Mallory’s Peril ;

Mreaderichk Garrisom, U.S. A;

By Liewt.

A TEST OF FRIENDSHIP.

CHAP IHR 1
‘“TEXAS’? RUNS AMUCK.
“Drunk! Drunk!!

what do you mean ?”’

The speaker was a tall, handsome lad,
clad in the grey and white uniform of a

West Point cadet. He had been sitting
at the door of a tent in ‘‘A’’ company
street, vigorously polishing a musket.
At the moment he had dropped the gun
and the cleaning-kit to the ground and
was gazing in amazement at a comrade
who had halted, breathless, in front of
hii,

‘‘Drunk!’’ the first speaker repeated.

“Texas drunk!
talking about ?’’
~The other was so red in the face and
out of breath from what had evidently
been a long run that he could scarcely
manage to answer. He was a _ stout,
round-faced lad, and his eyes were staring,
and his face a picture of excitement and
alarm.

‘*Bless my soul!’ he gasped.
you—I saw him! He’s wild!”’

‘‘What do you mean? Where is he?’?

‘‘He—he’s got a horse! He’s ridden
off! Oh—bless my soul—he’s killing
evetybody!”’

Mark Mallory, for the cadet at the
tent door was he, sprang to his feet in
excitement. At the same moment another
head appeared in the opening, preceded

For heaven’s sake

hat on earth are you

‘*T tell

by a hasty ‘‘What’s that?’ It was ‘‘Par-
son’? Stanard, the lanky -cadet from
Boston, and his learned classical face was .
a picture of amazement.

‘“Texas drunk!’’ he echoed. ‘‘Where
did he get anything to drink ?”’

‘IT don’t know!’ gasped ‘‘Indian,”’
which was the nickname of the: third
lad. ‘‘Bless my soul—I only saw him
one moment; he dashed down the road.
Oh! And had a horse, and his guns—
Lord, I was scared nearly to death.’

‘““Which way did he go?’ inquired
Mark, quickly, a sudden resolution taking
possession of his mind. a

“Down toward Highland Falls,’ an-
swered the other. fe as

And before he could say another word,
Mark had seized his hat, sprang out of
the tent, and bounded away down the -
company street to the great amazement
of the cadets who chanced to see him.

‘“Texas’ll be expelled! Expelled!’ he
muttered.
Lde?”

The incident we have just seen o¢-
curred at Camp McPherson, the summer
home of the cadets at West Point. Mark
Mallory, Peter Stanard and Joseph Smith,
or Indian (from Indianapolis) were three
‘‘plebes,’’ new cadets of just three weeks’
experience. The time was morning. The
plebe class had just been dismissed:a short
while ago from an hour of drill, and most

‘*And then what on earth will

#.

 
 

 

  

of theni were over by the cavalry plain,
watching the preparations of the rest of
the corps for “‘light artillery drill,”’
which was the programme of the morn-
ing.
‘Texas’? as he was called, was another
_ plebe, Cadet Powers, a wild and reckless
youth whose life had-been that of a cow-
boy until two short months before. He
was Mark’s tent mate and chum; scarcely
half an hour ago Mark had left him and
now he was drunk! And he was drunk
after the fashion of the cowboys, reckless
of everything, shooting and _ yelling,
ready to raid a town if need be. Where
he had gotten his whisky, or his horse,
what on earth had led him to such an
extraordinary proceedings, were questions
that Mark could not solve; but he knew
that his friend was in imminent danger,
that expulsion stared him in the face.
And that was all Mark needed to know.
He did not notice that the plain on his
right was crowded with spectators of the
drill, and that those same spectators were
staring at him curiously as he dashed
past. He had eyes for but one thing, and
that was a building to one side, down the
hill toward the shore of the Hudson. He
did not stop for paths; he plunged down
the bank, and finally wound up breathless
in front of the cavalry stables.
Most of the men were off to one side,
at that moment engaged in harnessing
the horses for the drill on the plain
above. But one was left, and he sat in
the doorway, calmly smoking his pipe,
and gazing curiously at the figure before
him.
‘‘What d’ye want ?’’ he demanded.
7k horse!’’ gasped Mark.
‘‘Plebe?’? inquired the other, with ex-
asperating slowness.
eS. |.
a. “Where’s yer permit ?”’
_'Haven’t got any.”
_“Don’t get no horse then !”
Mark gazed at the man in consterna-

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

tion—he hadn’t thought of that difficulty.

Then a sudden idea occurred to him, and
he thrust his hand into the watch pocket
of his uniform. There was money there,

money which as a cadet Mark had no 8
But he thanked his

business to have.
stars for it all the same. ‘There was a five
dollar bill, and he handed it to the man.

“Bor heaven’s sake,’? he panted, —
‘‘oive me a horse! Quick! Don’t lose a
moment! I’Il see you don’t get blamed—
say I took it away from you if you want
£0.

The man fingered the bill for a few
monients, lost in thought.

‘‘1¢’d take more’n you to take a horse

away from me,’’ he said at last.
since you’re in such a hurry——”’ :

He stepped inside the building, and a
moment later reappeared, leading one of
the government cavalry horses.

‘*Saddle>?’’ he inquired.

By way of answer Mark sprang at the
animal’s head, and in one bound was on
his back.

‘*Get up!’? he cried, digging his heels
into the horse’s side. ‘‘Get up!’ anda
moment later was dashing down the road
as if he had been shot from a catapult.

‘“‘Terrible hurry that!’’ muttered the
stable man, shaking his head, as he
turned away. ‘‘Terrible hurry! Some-
thing wrong ’bout that ’ere.”’

There was; and Mark thought so too
as he galloped down the road. He feared
there would be much more wrong ina
very short while. In half an hour or so
the plebe class, his class, would be called
to quarters once more for drill, and if he
and ‘Texas were not on hand then, there
would be trouble, indeed. If they were,
there was prospect of no less excitement.
From what Mark knew of his hot tem-
pered and excitable comrade when sober,
he could form a vague idea of whata
terror he might be when he was mad with
drink; and being thus he would not be
apt to behave as the meek and gentle

  

B19
   

Ga 020
thing a plebe is supposed to be. Mark
had had great trouble in keeping Texas
quiet, even under ordinary circumstances.
Mark Mallory had met this wild and
uncivilized lad down at the hotel at
Highland Falls, some weeks before either
of them had been admitted to the Acad-
eny. ‘Texas had then with recklessness
helped Mark in outwitting some hazers
among the candidates. Mark had been
drawn to the other by his frank and open
“nature, by their mutual love of fun and
adventure, and by a certain respect each
felt for the other’s prowess. ‘The story of
the heroic efforts by which Mark had
earned his cadetship was known to Texas,
as indeed: it was to every one on the post.
The two had come up to the Point to-
gether, and passed their examinations;
and they had been fast friends ever since.
Mark had backed Texas in a battle in
which Texas had “‘licked’? no less than
-fourof the yearlings, as the thirdclass ca-
dets, the plebe hazers, are called.
had been Mark’s second in a fight with
the picked champion of the samie class.
And since then the two had set out to-
gether in a crusade against hazing which
had turned West Point customs topsy-
turvy and made the yearlings fairly wild

Texas

with desperation.

Mark and Texas, together with five
other much-hazed plebes, had formed a
secret organization. ‘The Seven Devils
they called themselves, and their object
was to make the yearlings what the plebes
then were, to outwit them and subdue
them at every turn. And they had done
it, too.

Through all this the two had fought
side by side, and their friendship had
added years of firmness in almost every
day. And now! ‘The Texan’s wild pas-
sions had led him to an act that might
mean instant. expulsion. And Mark felt
that West Point was losing half its charm.

All this he was rapidly revalving in his —

mind as the horse sped down the road.

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY

Texas might be found! He might be _
brought back in time, if indeed he had
not already shot some one! Mark felt
that the chance was worth the risk, and
he jeanea forward over the flying hotse’s
neck and urged him on with every trick:
he could think of.

On, on they sped, Down the road pase

the Riding Hall, up the hilk past. the.
Mess Hall, the Hospital cat then. on
southward toward Highland Falls. The
passers-by stopped to look at the hurry-
ing figure in astonishment; people rushed
to the windows to see what the clatter of ©
hoofs might mean; but before they got
there the horse and rider had: vanished
dowh the street an a swirling cloud of
dust.

As if there were not enough to perplex
Mark, a new problem rose up before hin
just then. The village he had left behind
him, and was speeding down the toad—
when the chanced to think of the ae
that he was almost at “‘Cadet limits.”
There was a fork in the road just ce
to go beyond it ineans instant expulsion
if discovered! And how could he hope to
be undiscovered, he in a cadet uniform
and on that public highway ?

he tisk was desperate, but Mark had
almost resolved to take it, when a start-~
ling sound broke upon his ears. ;

“Wow! Whoop!”  Baig!
oo Wowdl)?

And a moment later, sweeping round a
turn, a cloud of dust appeared to Mark’s
straining eyes. The cloud drew nearer;
the shouts and yells swelled louder, ac-
companied now and then by a fusilade as
from a dozen revolvers; and at last, in

Bang!

the midst of the cloud, as if racing with

it, a horse and rider came into view, tlie

rider with a huge revolver in each hand
and a dozen in his belt, flinging his arms,
shouting and yelling as if forty demons =
were on his trail. oo

-) Heaven help him!" Mark oust. to.
himself. ‘‘Heaven heip him, for 4 can a o

The rider was Texas. oe

    

 

 

 

     
 

 

 

 

 

  
 
   

CHAPTER IL
“TEXAS RAIDS WEST POINT.

~~ Mark had scarcely had time to take in

the startling situation, before the horse
“and rider were upon him with a rush and
a whirl.

|. “Wow! Whoop!”’ roared Texas, with
_all the power of his mighty throat; and
-at the saine moment Mark heard a bullet

whistle past his head.

Texas had not recognized his friend at —

the pace he was riding; he and his flying
esteed were past and started up the road in
the direction whence Mark had come,
when the latter turned and shouted:
| lexas! Oh, Texas! come back here!”’
Powers gave a mighty tug upon the
reins which brought his horse to his
haunches; he swung him around with a
whirl that would have flung any ordinary
peter fiom the sacdie- and then he
dashed back, his face on a broad grin of
1ecogenition and delight.
Pia, Maik! he roared.
glad to see you! Whoop!”’
Mark’s mind was working with desper-
ate swiftness just then. He saw in a mo-
-inent that there was yet hope. Texas was
“not staggering: he sat his saddle erect
and graceful. His voice, too, was natural,
and it was evident that he had drunk
only enough to excite him, to make him
wild and blind to the consequences. There
was room for lots of diplomacy in manag-
ing him, Mark thought. The only ob-
stacle was tiine—or lack of it.

He reached over from his horse and
seized the hand which the other held out
to him.

-_ “How are you, old man?” he said.

Dally? cried Texas. ‘‘Durnation!
Paint f¢]t- so jolly, man, fo’ weeks!

Whoop! ’Ray! Got a horse, Mark, ain’t

yeu? Durnation, that’s great! Come
along. thar! Git up! We’ll go bust up
the hull durnation camp. Wow!”

And Vexas had actually turned to
‘gallop ahead. Mark h&d but a moment
“to think; he thought quickly, though, in
‘that moment, and resolved on a desperate

7 expedient.
|) texas) He called. and then .as his
= fiend tained, he added; “‘Texas, get
down from that horse!?’
‘The other stared at him in amazement,
and Mark returned that stare with a

“Durnation

 

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

 
  

821

stern and cetermined look. There was
fire in Powers’ eye, more so than usually ;
but there was a quiet, unflinching pur-
pose in Mark’s that the other had learned

   
  
  
   
 

to respect.
That had been a hard lesson. ‘Fexas
had lost his temper once and_ struck

  

Mark, and Mark had thrashed him then
as he had never been thrashed before. —
Texas knew his master after that, and as.
he stared just then a glimmering recollec-
tion of the time remained in his whirling
brain.

‘“Texas, get down from that horse.”’

There was a moment more during
which the two stared at each other in
silence; and then the right one gave
way. ‘Texas leaned forward, flung his leg
over the saddle, and sprang lightly to the_
ground. And after that he stood silent
aud watched his friend, with a worried-
and puzzled look upon his face.

Mark breathed .a sigh of relief as he
saw that he had won. He dismounted,
led his horse over to the side of the road,
and sat down. ‘Texas followed him,
though his unwillineness was written on
his face.

‘*Now see here, old man,’’ Mark be-
gan, having gotten him quiet, as- be
thought. ‘‘I want to talk to you some.”’ a

**Durnation !’’? growled Texas. ‘“‘I don’t |
want totalk. I want to git up an’ git,
an’ have some fun.”

‘CWell, now, see here, Texas,’’ Mark
continued. ‘‘Don’t you know if you are
seen carrying on this way you'll get into
trouble?) How about drill in a few min-
lites 7”? :

‘*Ain’t goin’ to drill!’ cried the other,
wriggling nervously in his seat, and
twitching his fingers with excitement, —
‘“Tired o? drillin’! I’m a-goin’ to have
some fun !’? :

‘But don’t you know, man, that you'll
be expelled ?’’ Mark pleaded. :

‘‘Expelled! Wow!’

That was the spark that started the
conflagration again. Texas leaped to his
feet with fury. eee

‘‘Expelled!”? heroared. ‘“Who’ll expel
me? Durnation! Whoop! Id like to see.
anybody in this place try it naow, by
thunder! I’ll show ’em! I'll hold up the
hull durnation place! Watch me scare ©
’em! Whoop!’’ 2.

  
   
    
 
    
  
  
   
  
   
 
   
       
   
   
   
  
    
 
    
   
   
  
 
 
  
    
  
    
   
  

    
822

And almost before Mark could move or
say anything, the wild lad sprang for-
ward at a bound and. landed upon his
-horse’s back. A moment later he was off
like a shot, leaving only a cloud of dust
and an echo of yells behind him.

‘‘Wow! Whoop! Durnation! Who’ll
expel me? Come out yere, you durnation
ole officers, an’ try it. Wow!”’

Texas was on the war-path again. This
time headed straight for West Point.

And riding behind him with desperate
speed, scarcely fifty yards in the rear, was
Mark Mallory, pursuing with all his
might, and trembling with alarm as he
thought of what that desperate cowboy
might do when once he reached the post.

For West Point, and the crowded
parade ground, were not a quarter of a
mile away.

The summer season is a gay one at
West Point. During the winter cadet life
is a serious round of drill and study, but
after that comes a three months’ holiday,
when cadets put on their best uniforms
and weleome mothers and sisters and.
other fellow’s sisters to the post. There
are hops then, and full dress parades, and
exhibition drills galore.

It was one of those drills that was
going on that morning, perhaps of all of
them the most showy and interesting to
the stranger. And the mothers and sisters
and other felllow’s sisters were out in
full force to see it.

“Light artillery drill’? is practice in
the handling and firing of field cannon.
The cadets learn to handle heavy guns
also, practicing with the ‘‘siege and _ sea-
coast batteries’’ that front on the southern
_ shore of the Hudson. But the drill with
the field pieces is held on the cavalry
plain, a broad, turfless field just south of
the camp.

The field presented a pretty sight on
that morning. It was surrounded with a
wall of trees, behind which, to the south,
the sombre gray stone of Barracks stood
out, with the Academy Building, the
Chapel and the Library. To the north
the white tents of the camp shone
through the trees and a little further to
the left the Battle Monument rose above

them and caught on its marble sides the

glistening rays of the sun. Beneath the

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

trees all around the plain and crowding
the steps of the buildings, were scattered
groups of spectators, the gay dresses of
the women helping to make a setting of
color.

There was a jingling of Hecies a
rumbling of wheels, and a murmur of ex-
citement among the spectators as the
cadet corps put in an appearance, natty
and handsonie in their uniforms, the offi-
cers riding on horseback, and the privates
mounted on the cannon or the caissons.
Platoon after platoon they swept out
upon the field; then formed in accord-
ance with the sharp commands of the
officers ; and in a few ‘minutes more

“artillery drill’? was under way.

It is rather an inspiring sight-at times.
There are over a dozen of the cannon,
with four horses each to draw them, and
when the whole squadron gets into motion
at once, there is a thundering of hoofs
anda cloud of- dust behind to mark the
path. And then when they wheel, and
aim and fire, the roar of the discharge
echoes among the hills and makes the
post seem very military and wage in-
deed.

So thought the spectators as pee sat
and watched, too much interested to have
any eyes for what might happen else-
where. But those who sat on the
southern edge of the plain, where the
road from Highland Falis emerged, were
destined to witness a far more exciting
incident than that, an incident which was
not down on the programme, and which
the tactical officers and the Commandant
of Cadets, who stood by their horses at
one side, had not planned or prepared for.

The last discharge of the morning’s
drill was yet ringing in the spectator’s
ears, and the sound barely had time to
make its way down the road, before it
was answered and flung back by another
volley that was all the tend 108 its un-
expectedness.

Bang! Bang ®

The people turned and gazed 4 in BA
The cadet captain out upon. the field
stopped in the very midst of a command
and leaned forward in his saddle to see; a
sentry marching up the street, forget his
orders and wheeled about in: surprise,
There was the wildest kind of excite-
ment ina moment. -

Rta eate tere
ah

 
 

 

 

 

    

A horseman was racing up the road,
ee blindly ahead at full tilt. “He
wore the tiniform of a cadet, and his face
was red with excitement. He leaned for-
ward over his horse, firing right and left
into the air, while from his throat pro-
ceeded a series of yells such as no one in
that vast crowd had ever heard before.

Wow! Wow! Whoop!’

There was no time for exclamations
‘fromm the spectators, no time for questions
or anything else. It was scarcely a second
more before the wild rider was oS them
and he drove straight through the crowd
with the speed of an express train, neither
he or his horse heeding any one.

‘The panic-stricken people fled in all
‘directions, some of them barely escaping
the flying animal’s hoofs. And ina mo-
ment more he was out on the open plain,
heading straight for the squadron.

Pwow: Wow!” yelled the  tider.
‘“Expel me, will ye? What ye got them
guns for, hey? Hold up yer hands!
Durnation! Whoop!”’

Shouting thus at the top of his lungs,

he was alinost upon the cadets when the
frightened spectators heard another rattle
of hoofs and another rider burst through
the open space in full pursuit. It was
Mark, and he was desperate then, gallop-
ing even more furiously than the cowboy
in front, for he knew that no one but he
could ever stop Texas now.
- The amazement and fright of the spec-
tators cannot be pictured; nor the anger
of the officers who saw it all. These latter
put spurs to their horses and galloped
out to the two; but Texas and Mark be-
hind him had already reached the dumb-
founded cadets.

Texas had emptied the two rev bale ers in

his hands, as he raced yelling across the -

plain. With a whoop he flung them at
the nearest cadet, and whipping two more
from his belt, opened fire point blank.

““Wow! Whoop!’’ he howled. ‘‘Expel
me will ye? Take that!’

Bang! Bang!

Half the horrified cadets turned to run;
some dropped down behind the cannon
and the horses, when Texas fired there
was not a man in sight.
| Mark was almost upon him when the

first bullet struck. It hit one of the horses
ade the flank, and tore a deep gash.

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY,

    

 

The animal reared and_ snorted
terror. His companions in harness took
the alarm, and almost at that same in-
stant rated: on a wild dash across the
field, the four of them whirling the —

heavy cannon along as if it had been a

toy.

A few yards ahead was the end of the
field, and there, crowded in a dense mass,
a hundred people stood, people who had
rushed to that side to avoid the Texan’s —
flying speed. And toward that surging,
frightened mass the four horses plunged
with might and main.

It was a terrible moment. Those who
saw the danger gasped, cried out in
horror, but those who stood in the path of
the flying steeds were too frightened to
move. ‘The move had come so suddenly,
so unexpectedly. The crowd stood hud-
dled together; the crash came _ before
they had time to realize what was happen-
ing.

In the moment’s excitement, the two
horsemen had remained unnoticed. Texas
had seen the runaway, seen the crowd an
instant later. Through his confused and
excited brain the consequences of his acts
seemed to flash with the sharpness of a
thunderbolt... He had acted with the
quickness of a man who lives, knowing
that at any moment he may be called
upon to ‘‘pull his gun,’’ and defend his
life. He had wheeled his horse about,
plunged his heels into the horse’s sides,
and at that moment was sweeping
round inawild race for the leaders of
the runaway four.

Quick as Texas, was, Mark was a mo-
ment ahead of him. As he raced across
the plain toward his friend he had seen
the horses start and swerved and made
for them, approaching from the opposite
side to the Texan.

All this had happened in the snapping
of a finger—the dash of the four, and
two racing from each side to head them
off. And it was all over before the im-
perilled crowd could turn to flee.

Texas was seen to leap out over his
horse’s head and seize the bridle of one of
the leaders as he fell. The crowd saw —
Mark’s horse, dashing in from the other
side, barely a foot from the mass of the
spectators, crash into the Texan’s flying
steed. They saw the horse go.down;

Boe
with
824 - -

 

they saw Mark disappear. And then in
the crush that followed he was lost to
sight beneath the plunging hoofs of the
four. ;

COAPIER (Iii.

THE END OF TEXAS’ SPRER.

‘There was a moment of blind confusion
after that in which each one in the crowd
had time to think and see for himself
alone. The spectators were pushing wild-
ly back before the onslaught of the ap-

f Eee

he MA pe Nye

 

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

 

do; raised himself upon it with a mighty
tug, and then a moment later was hurled
far out over the plain, as the horse he
clung to, stopped in its rush, went down
ina heap with the cannon on top.

It was all over then. The spectators
had been saved as by a miracle, the barrier
interposed by Mark’s horse. And there
was left a pale, half-fainting lot of people
crowded around a tangled mass of horses
and harness, with Texas clinging to one
of the bridles, unconscious from a wound
in his head.

They loosened his deathlike grip, and

E

<= . : ‘|

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

IN THE CRUSH THAT FOLLOWED, MARK WENT DOWN UNDER THE PLUNGING HOOFS
OF THE FRANTIC HORSES (page 82+).

proaching horses. Several of the cadets
and officers had sprung forward to seize
the horses heads; Texas was clinging to
‘the bridle with all his strength. And
~Mark—Mark’s was the greatest peril of
all. He had fallen over his horse’s neck ;
he had seen the two leaders plunging
toward him, stumbling over the body of
his own prostrate horse, crushing down
upon him—and then before his dazed eyes
had swept a flying rein. He saw it, and
clutched at it, as a.drowning man might

laid him on the ground, while Mark,
having picked himself up in a more or
less dazed condition, burrowed ee
through the crowd £ reach his side. -

“Ts he hurt? Is he hurt?’ he enters

The surgeon was at that moment bend-
ing over the T’exan’s body, where he had
hurried as scon as he saw the accident.

‘‘It is only a scratch,’? he said, hastily.
‘He will get well.”

And Mark breathed Se ae

_turned pale, however, a moment. later, rae ee

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

  

_ he saw the doctor, catching the odor of
_ the lad’s breath, shake his head and look
serious. ;

He knows!
tered to himself,
poor Texas!”’

They earried the lad over to the hos-
pital; and then West Point set to work
to. get over its atiiazement and alarm as
best it could.

They cleared. up the wreck for one
thing. Twoof the horses had broken
their legs and had to be led off and shot.
The rest trotted behind the corps as it
marched away—uinarched, fur no ainount
of excitement could interfere with West
Point discipline. And then there was left
down at that end of the cavalry plain
only a crowd of curious people, witha
scattering of army officers and plebes, all
discussing excitedly the amazing happen-
in@s of scarcely five minutes ago, and
wondering what on earth had taken pos-
session of the two reckless cadets that
had started all the trouble.

He knows!’ Mark mut-
‘fand it is all up with

They looked for Mark, but Mark had.

disappeared while the excitement was at
its height. He did not welcoine the ques-
tions or the stares of the curious. More-
over, he saw the superintendent, Colonel
Harvey, excitedly questioning several of
the staff about the matter. Mark feared
that the superintendent might turn wpon
him any moment, and he wanted time to
think before that happened.

He dodged behind the Library Build-
the Parson with him, and made his
way around to the now deserted camp.
Once beneath its protection, the two sat
down and stared at each other in dismay.
‘There was no need to say anything, for
eae) knew how the other felt. Texas
was up the spout; Mark was but little

better off; and the universe was coming
to an end,

"Phat was all.

pot Well?) said. Mark
busted! mr

And the Parson assented with a solenin
“Yea, by Zetis!’’ and relapsed. into a

‘1ng,

Qt last, “we're

— glum silence again.

Neither of them felt called upon to say
anything after that; neither could think
of the least thing to say.

ARMY AN D NAVY WEEKLY.

There wasn't a
_ einnmiering ae “hope—they were simply

&25

‘‘husted,’? and that was all there was to
it.

There is a saying that in multitude of
council there is satiety. “Lhe tent door
was pushed aside a few minutes later and
Indian’s Jugubrious, tear-stained, horri-
fied face peered in. Indian followed, and
seated himself in one corner, and then
the tent relapsed into silence and solenin-
ity once more.

Three mote disgruntled persons it
would be hard to find, excepting possibly
the other three of the Seven Devils, who
at the moment were wandering discon-
sdlately about the camp. The while situ-
ation was so unutterably amazing, duinb-
founding. Texas had often talked in his
wild ‘'exas way about getting on a
‘rousing ole spree jest once,’’ and of his
intention to ‘thold up” the cadet battalion
some fine day just for a joke; but nobody
had ever taken him seriously. And now
he had gone to work and done it, and
killed two horses, and heaven only knew
how imany people besides—for who could
say what the crazy cowboy might nct lave
done down at Highland Falls? Whi,
made his fri ends shiver to think of the
whole thing! But the situation only grew
worse with the thinking; and the three
in the tent stared ai one ‘another in undi-
minished consternation and despair.

‘“Well,’? muttered Mark a ce time.
UoW ere busied |’

And he had two to
then.

They would probably have sat there all
morning if it had not been for a small
drum orderly outside—the drum orderly
sounded the ‘‘call to quarters,’ and a few
minutes later the plebes were lined up in
the company street, muskets in hand, for
drill. Andit did not take a verv sharp
eye to notice that every man in the elass
was staring curiously at Mark Mallory,
the plebe who but a few minutes before
had been riding across the parade ground
in an attempt to put a whole artillery
squadron to flight, and that, too, under
the superintendent’s very nose.

agree with him

‘SL wonder if he’s crazy?’ muttered
one.

ei denk  suecested anomie
laughing. ‘Oh, say, but I’d hate to

be in his place! P?
Which last sentiment was held unani-

  

 
826

mously by the class, and by the rest of
the corps, too, as they scattered to their
tents. A storm was going to break over
Mallory’s head in a very, very short
while, the cadets predicted.

The prediction proved to be true.
of the cadet officers had barely managed
to run over the list of names at roll-call
before an orderly raced into camp and
handed hima message. He read it, and
then he read it again, aloud:

‘“Cadet Mallory will report to the
superintendent at once.

And a imoment later, while a murmur
of excitement ran down the line, Mark
stepped out and hurried away down the

- street.

‘“The storm breaks now in just about
five minutes,’’ thought the corps.

CHAPTER. 1V.
PLEADING THE CAUSE OF A FRIEND.

Mark was doing a desperate lot of
thinking during that brief walk down to
the Headquarters Building. Every one
he passed turned to stare at him, but he
did not notice that. He knew that in a
very short while now the critical moment
was coming. Texas could not speak for
himself ; Mark must tell his story for
him, and save him from disgrace and
dismissal if the thing could possibly be
done.

The Headquarters Building lies behind
the Chapel; just beyond the scene of the
runaway. There was still a crowd of
people standing around, and Mark saw
them nod to one another with an ‘‘I-told-
you-so’’ look as he turned to enter the
superintendent’s office.

‘‘Oh, just won’t he catch it!’’ thought
they.

Mark thought so, too, as he entered.
A man met him at the door, and without
an inguiry or a moiment’s delay led him
to Colonel Harvey’s door and knocked.
He evidently knew just why Mark came.

The door was opened as the man
stepped to it. Mark entered and the door
shut. He turned, and found himself con-
fronted by the tall and stately officer.
Mark gazed at him anxiously and found
lee worst fears confirmed. There was

One.

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

wrath and indignation upon the superin-
tendent’s face, a far different look from
the one Mark had seen there the last time
he stood in that office.

Colonel Harvey started to oe the
instant Mark entered the room. eS

“'Mr. Mallory,” said: he, “wall you
please have the goodness to explain to me
your extraordinary conduct of this morn-
ing! ?9))

Mark looked him squarely in the eye
as he answered, for he knew that he had
nothing to be ashamed of.

‘*T can explain my conduct better, >” he
said, ‘‘by explaining that of Cadet Powers
frst. 7

aie colonel frowned impatiently. ne
‘“‘T want to know about it; Ido now
care how. I want to kuow whatever in-
duced a cadet of this Academy to behave
in the disgraceful way that you” two aid
this morning.’’ a
Cah explain it verv easily, sir, At
was simply that Cadet Powers “was
drunk.”?
‘“Drunk |”? echoed the superintendent.
He started back and stared at Mark in
amazement. Mark returned his look un-
flinchingly. kee se
co Ge. eit, he: said,

“Drunk. You will

probably receive a report from the hos-

pital to that effect this afternoon. ”’
‘‘And now,’’ thought Mark to himself,

pee)

ie

“the cat is out of the bag. I wonder
will happen.”’

The superintendent still continued to
gaze at him in consternation.

Cath: pray, 2 ire paid | ate last,

‘were you drunk too?’

It was a rather bold question, to say
the least, and that flashed over the officer’ s
mind a moment later, as he saw the
handsome lad in front of him’ start a trifle
and color visibly. He was sorry 'thén that
he had said it, and more sO when he
heard Mark’s response. ae ee

‘‘T have never touched foes in! ‘my
life,’’ said the latter, in a low, quiet tone
that was a rebuke unspoken.

Mark saw a vexed look sweep over the
colonel’s face, caused by that’ gentle-
man’s recognition of his own. rudeness
and Mark’s heart bounded at that.

‘‘He?ll be extra kind to me now, 4 he
thought, ‘‘to make up for it. "Score one
point for our side.”

 
 
 

= a5 much:

 

 

       

‘““TE you please,’’ Mark continued, after
amoment’s pause, ‘‘I will tell yon the

/ story.

' To,’ said the colonel, briefly.
““T was in my tent about ten minutes

before the accident happened, and a cadet

ie)

ran in and told me that Texas——’

Pexas?”?
**Pardon me. Texas is our name for
Cadet Powers. ‘Told me that Powers was
drunk. I set out to find him. The horse
which I had I—er—ran away with from
the stables. I met Powers down the road
and I tried to keep him quiet. He broke
away from me, and I followed him. You
saw the rest.’

‘I see,’’ said Colonel Harvey, reflec-
tively. ‘‘I see; I am very glad, Mr.
Mallory, to find that you are not as much
to blame asI thought. This is a bad
business, sit, very bad. It was almost
murder, and to all appearances you were
to blame as the other. But I
have no doubt that I shall find your story
trie.” "

Mark bowed, and waited for the other
to continue; the crisis was almost at hand
now,

“Mr. Powers,’’ the colonel went on,
‘‘will of course be dismissed at once.
And by the way, Mr. Mallory, you de-
serve to. be congratulated upon your
promptness and bravery.’

‘There was a silence after that, and
Mark drew a long breath, about to start.
- The superintendent had one thing more
to add, however, and it was a singularly
fortunate. ak at the moment.
oe wish, 7 Me said, ‘that | could te-
ward you.’
2 OU ao
AG burst from Mark almost involun-
tarily, and he sprang forward with eager-
ness that surprised the other.
_ . {ff there is anything you wish,’’ he
said, quietly, ‘‘anything that I can do, I
shall be most happy.”’
o'There is something!’ Mark cried,
speaking rapidly. ‘‘There is something.
And: if) you do it I'll never forget it as
longas I may live. If you do not—oh!”’
“Matk stopped, unable to express the
thought that was in his mind. The
colonel saw his agaitation.
ee is your wish : ?”” he inquired.

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

 

 

““He must not

‘*Powers!’’ cried Mark.
be dismissed. ’’

The colonel started a and gazed at
him in amazement.

‘““Not be dismissed!’’ he echoed.
‘““What on earth is Powers to you ?’’

‘To me? He is everything that one
friend can be to another. Ihave known
him but two months, sir, but in those
two months I have come to care more for
him than for any human being I have
ever known—except my mother. He
has stood by me in every danger; he has
been as true as evera friend on earth.
He would die for me, sir—you saw what
he did to-day. I have seen him do braver
things than that, and I know that he has
the heart of alion. If he goes—I—I do
not see how I can-stay!”’

‘“‘But, my dea sir,”’ cried the colonei,
still surprised, “think of the discipline!
You do not know what you ask. I can
not have my cadets carry on in that
wanver =.

‘What I have told you no one knows
but you and I, and two others I can trust.
The surgeon knows it, and that is all.
He can call it temporary insanity, sun-
stroke—a thousand things!’’

‘That is not the point. It 1s the man
himself, his contempt for authority, for
law and order, his lacking the instincts
of a gentleman, his——”’

“Vou are mistaken,’’ interrupted
Mark, forgetting ae in his excite-
ment that he was talking to the dreaded
superintendent. ‘‘You were never more
mistaken in your life! Texas has all the
instincts of a gentleman; he has a true
heart, sir. But think where he was
brought up. He is a cowboy, and to get
drunk is the only amusement he knows at
home. He has no more idea right now
that it is wrong to drink than to eat. His
own father, he told me, got him drunk
when he was ten years old.’’

‘“‘But, my boy,’’ expostulated the
colonel, ‘‘I can’t have such a man as
that here. Think of an army officer with
such a habit.”’

‘itis not a habit,’ ctied Matk.. “ile
did it for fun—he knows no better. And
I will guarantee that he does not do it
again.
he would not have-done it this time.’’

827

If I had only known beforehand —

‘Do you mean to say,’’ demanded the

 
 
   
   

= 028
other, ‘‘that you have sufficient influence
over him to see that he behaves himself?’

‘“T mean to say just that,’’ responded
Mark, eagerly, ‘‘just that! And I will
risk my commission on it, too! I offer

you my word of honor as a gentleman —

that Mr. Powers will give you his never
‘to touch another drop of liquor in his
life. And there’s no man on earth whose
promise you could trust more.’’

Mark halted, out of breath and eager-
He had said all he could say; he had
fired his last cartridge, and could only sit
and wait for the result.

‘*You said you would like to reward
fie > he cried. ‘‘And oh, if you only
knew what a favor you could do! If vou
will only give him one chance, one
chance after he has realized his danger.
It is in your power to do it—the secret
is yours to keep.’’

Colonel Harvey was pacing the room
in his agitation; he continued striding
up and down for several minutes of
thought, while Mark gazed at him in
suspense and dread.

At last he halted suddenly in front of
Mark.

‘You may go now, Mr. Mallory,’’ said
ne TI must have time to thrak. tlis
over. |

Mark rose and left the room in silence.
He could not tell what might be Texas’
fate, and yet as he went he: could not
help thinking that the colonel’s hesita-
tion ineant nine points won of the ten—
thinking that one more chance was to be
granted.

CHAPTER V-
THE REFORMATION OF TEXAS.

aN eli?

There were five of them, all plebes—
Indian, the Parson, Dewey, Chauncey
and Sleepy. They were the rest of the
Seven Devils. . They sat in a tent in
Company A and at that moment were
gazing anxiously at a figure who stood in
the doorway.

Pawel???

‘There is hope,’’ said Mark.

“Elope
for poor Texas.’’

And then he came in and sat down to
tell the story of his interview with the

colonel. The plebes listened anxiously;

   

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

and when he finished, they set to work to —

compose themselves as best they could to.
wait. : Ee ao
‘(The answer will come to-night,”*
Mark said, ‘“when they read: off the rez"
ports. And until then—nothing.”’ oe
Which just expressed the situation.
The day passed somehow; between
police duties and drills, the six were kept —
busy enough to relieve the suspense of
waiting. And after supper the battalion
lined up there was roll-call, and the
orders of the following day to be read,
while Mark and his friends fretted and
gasped with impatience. There were re-
ports, and finally miscellaneous notices, |
among them the sick list! |

‘‘Rourth class,’’ read the officer, tlren
halted a moment. ‘‘Powers’’—every man
in the line was straining eyes and ears,
half dead with curiosity then—‘‘Excused
indefinitely—temporary mental aberra-—
tion, caused by keat.’? a .

Safe!

And a moment later the line’ broke
ranks, the cadets discussing with added:
interest the case of that extraordinary
plebe. But the six had danced off in jov.

‘‘He’s safe! He’s safe!’ they cried’
‘Hooray! fhe ee

‘‘And now,’’. said Mark, ‘‘there’s only
one thing more. We’ve got to reform
him—make sure he don’t do it again.’

It was two days after that, one evening
after supper, that the door of the Hospital
Building was opened and a certain cadet
we know caine forth. It ‘was Texas,
spruce and handsome in a brand new
uniform, looking none the worse for his
‘‘sunstroke’’ treatment—i. e., plenty of
cold water, inside and out. ‘Texas felt
moderately contented too. He*had held
up the corps as he had promised—not a
man in the crowd had dared to fire a shot
at him. He had a vague recollection of
having done something heroic, besides.
He saw that every one was staring at him
in ‘‘admiration’’; in short, our: friend
Powers was prepared for a rousing and
hearty reception from the rest of the seven.

He strode up the company street, not
failing to notice meanwhile that plebes,
and old cadets, too, made way for hii in
awe and respect. He stopped at Mark’s

   

 
        

 

  

 

youl:

3

 

 
  
 
 
  

 

hut, pushed the flap aside, and entered
sowith 2 tush.

hhind his back. :

qutruder in cold indifference.
them apparently

“He'll come to terms ey on

| = Dumation!” he cried.
How’s everybody ?”’
‘The first person he saw was Master
Dewey, and to him Texas rushed and
held out his hand. ‘To his indescribable
ainazement that young gentleman calmly
stared at him, and put both his hands be-

‘Whar be

W-—w—why!’ gasped ‘Texas. “‘ Dur-
nation !”?

Whereupon Dewey turned upon his

Weel and walked out of the tent.

‘Texas was too dumbfounded to swear.
He stared at the others; they were all
there except Mark, and they gazed at the
None of
had ever seen him be-
fore.

Look a yere!’’? demanded Texas at

last. ‘‘Ain’t you fellows a-goin’ to speak
tO ier
_Eyidently they were not, for they

didn’t even answer his question. ‘Texas
stood and stared at them for a few mo-
ments more, wondering whether he ought
notsail in and doup the crowd. Finally,
as the silence grew even more embarrass-
ing, he decided to go out and find Mark to
learn what on earth was the matter. With
this intention he turned and hurriedly
left the tent, while the five inmates
looked at one another and smiled.

Mark was walking up the street;
Texas espied him and made a dash for
him. -

eer
matter. with them—_—

- ‘Texas, stopped in alarm;
might have laid him flat. Mark, his
chum, his tent mate, was staring at him
without’a sign of recognition! Anda
ynoment lacer Mark turned on his heel
and strode. away, in silence, while Texas
easped, ‘‘Good Lord!”’

That evening, seated on one of the
guns up by Trophy Point, was visible a
solitary figure, looking about as lonely
and wretched asa human being can. It
was ‘‘the ‘Texas madman.’’ Everybody
kept a safe distance away from him, and
so no one had a chance to notice that the

Mark! ? he roared... ‘‘What’s the

)

- madman’s eyes were filled with tears.

viddot “Texas. Mark was thinking.

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

a feather

He did, for’ a fact. That same even-
ing, just before tattoo, Mark felt a grip
upon his arm that made him wince. He
turned and found it was his friend, a look
of misery upon his face that went to the
other’s heart.

“Took a-yere, old man,’’ he pleat
‘Won?t you—oh, for heaven’s sake, tell —
me what’s the matter?”

“‘T don’t mind telling you,’’ responded
Mark, slowly. ‘‘You have behaved your-
self as no gentleman should, and as no
friend of mine shall!”

CLP? oried Texas, in amazement... 1!
Durnation! What on earth have I done?”
‘Done!’ echoed Mark. ‘‘Didn’t you
o6 on and cet drunk? For, sugie,

Texas!”

Texas was too dumbfounded to say a
word, He could only stare and gasp.
Here was a state of affairs indeed!

‘Ves!’ chimed in Dewey, approaching
at this moment. ‘‘And you néarly killed
dozens of people, too. _Mark was within
an ace of being dismissed; and as for
you! why, you’d have been fired long
ago if Mark hadn’t pleaded for hours
with the superintendent!’

Texas turned his wondering eyes upon
Dewey then. He was fairly choking with
ainazement,

“Do you mean to say,’’ he gasped at
last, ‘‘that you fellows are mad with me
because I got drunk ?’”

‘‘Exactly,’’ responded Mark. |

‘“And do you mean to tell me that you
call that disgraceful conduct ??’

‘‘T do. And I mean to tell you, more-
over, that you can’t be a friend of ours.
while you do it.
ple feel about such things where you
come from, Texas, but I do know that if
people up here knew you had been in that
condition not a soul would speak to you.
There’s very little room among decent
people for the fellow who thinks it smart
to make a fool of himself, and he usually

firids 40. Out,-too, after it is too date.“ 7
never spent my time hanging around
saloons, and I don’t think much of fel-

lows that do, either.’’

Mark could scarcely repress a sinile as
he watched the effect this brief sermon
produced’on the astounded Texan.

“T wonder what dad would say if he ~

  

I don’t know how peo-
    

830
heard that!’’ was the thought in the
latter’s mind.

* Texas was brought back from this
thought rather suddenly to his own situa-
tion. For Mark and Dewey both turned
away to leave him again.

‘‘Took a-yere, Mark,’ he cried, seizing
_ him by the arm again. ‘‘Look a-yere, ole
man, won’t you forgive me jest this
once. Oh, please!’’

And there were teats in the Texan’s
big gray eyes as he said it.

‘*But you'll do it again,’? Mark ob-
jected.

‘* Deed I won’t, man!- ’Deed I won’t.
Til swear Pl] never do it again s’long
ast live.’

**But will you keep your promise ?”’

“TIT never broke one yit as I know,’’

responded Texas with an injured look.

And Mark, rejoicing inwardly at his
success, but outwardly very grave and
solemn, said that he’d go in and ask the
other six about it.

Texas sat with his feet against the tent
pole and a peninone hand. He helda
letter to his father in the other; he was
just through writing it, and he was going
to read it for the edification of the Seven
Devils.

ao 6 ED

Dear Sctap, it began. “‘You see,
added Texas, in an explanatory note, ‘‘I
call him Scrap sometimes just to make
him feel comfortable. All the boys call
him that. ‘Dear Scrap. This yere is the
first letter I’ve written you since I hit
this durnation place. I ain’t heard from
you, so I don’t know whether you got
‘lected fo’ Congress or not. I been havin’
piles o’ sport up yere. Took in three

one of ’em lick me.’

ri

Z
a

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

quarts ’tother day, an’ I held up the hull
durnation corps on the strength of: it.
Busted two horse’s legs, though, an’ I
reckon you’ll have to send on the price.
Don’t think they’ll] mount to. over a
thousan’ or two. I’ve still got my
guns——’

- Guns is spelt with one ‘n,’ ain’t it?’
Texas inquired, interrupting himself. ‘I
put two—makes it seem bigger and more
important, sorter.

‘¢ “They’re the durnation queerest folks
up this way! ‘They gave me thunder fer
gittin’ drunk, said twarnt gentlemanly.
Reckon after you licked a few they’d call
you a gentleman all right ’nough. They
made me swear off, else they wouldn’t let
me stay. What do you reckon the boys’! -
say to that? Had to do it, though—you
needn’t git mad over it—I’m havin’ so
durnation much fun a-doin’ of the yearl-
ings that I wanted to stay. They kaint

‘*T didn’t mention you, Mark,’’ Texas
added, laughing. ‘‘Cause if I'd told dad
that you did me, he’d probably want to
come up an’ try a whack himself, jes’ to
see ef you really could hit hard. Dad
won’t ever acknowledge that I kin do
him, though I almost licked him twice, |
when he got rilel.. Reckon I’ll end this
yere letter now. I jest wanted to tell him
to send ’long some money.

‘Now let’s go out and hunt up some
o’ them durnation old yearlin’s.”? —

[THE END. ]

‘‘A West Point Hop; or, Mark Mal-
lory’s Determination,’’ is the title of
Iieutenant Frederick Garrison’s next
Military Academy story.

 

 

 
 

 

  

 
  

CHAPTER I.
“A HAIL IN THE NIGHT.

“Sail O! Ship dead ahead! Loox out,
she’s———”?

The startling cry, wafted aft from the
forecastle by a sudden shifting of the gale,
eame to an end just as the officer on
watch on board the Naval Academy prac-
tice ship Monongahela awakened to the
fact that something was wrong.

Grasping his trumpet more firmly, he
peered through the gloom enshrouding
the. ship like a damp mist, and then
bawled lustily:

‘*Foc’s’le ahoy!
sighted ?’’..

“There was a commotion about the wet,
littered decks. Crew and cadets slipped
froin their shelters and glanced anxiously
out into the storm-tossed waste of waters.
The executive officer, who had just re-
tired, hastily reappeared, armed with his
iight-o giass, and silently took his station
on the quarter deck.

All waited breathlessly for the answer
from forward. It was tardy in coming,
and the executive officer snapped out:

-*‘Horward, there! Why don’t you
answer ?”’

A tall, slim figure swathed in oil-skins,
swayed up to the speaker from beyond
the foremast, and saluted as well as the
plunging deck would permit.

‘‘T have investigated the matter, sir.
The cry was given by a new fourth class
cadet acting as lookout on the starboard
cathead. He fancied he saw a ship direct-
ly in front, and he gave the alarm.

‘“What is his name?’

What have you

   

An Ocean ice :

i.

Clif Faraday’s Sienee Adventure.

By Ensign Clarke Fitch, U. SS. N-

‘‘Clifford Faraday, sir.’’

‘““Humph! was he asleep?”’

“‘T do not think so, sir.”’

‘‘He’s a bright lad, Mr. Watson,”
interposed the officer of the watch. ‘‘I
stationed him up there for that reason.
He’s not the one to sleep on duty.’

‘‘But he must have been dreaming to
act in that manner,’’ impatiently replied
the executive officer. » What did the
other lookouts——”’

ae ahoy! She’s dead ahead! Watch

The cry tang out Saanle dbo the
roaring of the gale, and, as_ before, it
came to a sudden ending. ‘There was a
moment of silence, then the cadet officer
of the forecastle, who had just madea
report, exclaimed wonderingly :

“It’s Faraday again.”’

Brandishing his telescope like a sword,
the executive officer sprang forward, fol-
lowed by the other officers and a score of
men and cadets.

On reaching the forecastle they found
a lithe, active lad, leaning far out over
the rail, hanging with one hand from a
stay.

He was peering eagerly through the
gloom at a point just off the starboard
bow.

‘What is the matter here,’’ harshly
exclaimed Lieutenant Watson. ‘‘Who
gave that alarm?” _

The lad turned and leaped lightly to
the deck. One hand came up to the rim
of his cap in prompt salute, then he re-
plied ‘in a clear strong voice: ;

**T gave the alarm, sir.”’

What for ?”’ .

‘“Because I sighted a ship dead ahead, :

   

 
 
ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

sir. We were almost on top of her when
she disappeared.”

The executive officer made « as
impatience.

“This is sheer nonsense,
day,’’ he exclaimed.
dreaniling.”’

‘' Dreaming, sir?”?

Clif drew himself up. His face, seen in
the light cast by a hand lantern, reddened.

‘“Yes, dreaming. You have been asleep,
sir,’? insisted Lieutenant Watson, whose
temper was not the best. ‘‘It is a grave
breach of discipline, and I warn you to
keep awake on watch in the future.’’

rd bes your pardon, sit,’’ replied Clift,
respectfully, but with firmness. ‘‘I must
deny having been asleep. I have walked
back and forth across decks during the
whole watch. I passed the call at each
bell, and I know I saw what I have
claimed.’?

‘Where is it, then ?’’

Chf glanced out across the water, which
foamed and leaped in giant billows under
the force of the gale. ‘The air was filled
with flying spume, and rain beat down-
ward with steady persistency. It was a
wild night.

The thick mist hemmed the ship ina
black horizon, and naught was visible to
the curious eyes of the group on the
forecastle. Several of the cadets laughed,
and one said in a tone plainly audible:

‘““He saw the Flying Dutchman, |
euess.’?

The words did not escape Clif, but he
yave no sign of having heard them other
than one quick glance at the speaker.

‘‘¥ do not know where the ship is now,
sir,’’ he replied steadily to the executive
officer’s question, ‘‘but I am certain I saw
one. It was nothing but a hulk with two
masts having curious round cages at the
top. There weren’t any yards or sails
visible.’’

‘You are describing a lightship, Fara-
day,’’ said Lieutenant Watson, smiling
incredulously. ‘‘And there are none
within fifty miles of us. Take my advice
and do not cultivate the habit of riding
nightmares on watch.”’

With this last bit of sarcasm the a
- walked aft and Tejoined the officer of the
deck.

‘It is hard to believe suck a tmanly,

czsture of

Mr. Fara-
‘“VYou have been

equalled by the force of your slang.

clever cadet as Faraday would lie deliber- . .

ately to get out of a scrape,’’ he said,

“but it certainly looks as if he has been

trying it. Fancy a lightship out here.
Better take him off alee or hellt fe]
keeping us awake all night,
yott change the course ?”’

“At eight bells, sir. It is alinost ‘th lat.
time now. Good-night, sir.”

“Rather good-morning. There would
be a glimpse of dawn in the ly fEit
wash’t for this confounded gale,”

Lieutenant Watson crossed the slippery
tossing deck to the break of the cabin,
and glanced at the clock back of the |

wheel.

The hands indicated ten
four.

With a sigh for the sleep ye had lost,
he went below to turnin. Five minutes
later he was buried in a slumber that was
destined to be rudely broken, and that
before inany minutes.

minutes of

CPAP LR stig

fr COLLIS 1 Ow: :
In the meantime Clif had been relieved
from his post on the forecastle. When
the cadet officer in charge, a firstclass —
man, curtly bade him give way to another
plebe, he silently obeyed, but it was evi-

dent he felt the disgrace keenly.
‘*Don’t you care, Clif,”’ spoke Wp a
tall, solemn-faced cadet who had forined
one of the group. ‘‘Such mistakes are

= COMO.’

‘*But it wasn’t a mistake, Joy,’’ replied
Faraday earnestly. ‘‘1] am ias* cerita
saw that ship twice as I am that. I stand
Here.” s

Did it) Jack
queried a smailer lad. Mee

“T guess so, Nanny. The first-

I described one. Whew! it was. a pecu
expetience. My flesh is creepy yee 7.
thought _we would plump into: I er for
Ceftain:”

Mell us- all about

like a lightship

it, old ‘fellow, a
chorused several plebes of the ic.
‘*It bad here,’’ spoke upa dark, black-
haired youth with a curious foreign face.
‘‘Me think we blow away pretty soon.

This one lulu of a gale.
‘Rigat you are; Treley. =
Clif, ‘The strength of the wind i is only Be

 

When do —

It peacherine.’!>
Jaughed =

ve
  

_ will take refuge in the lee of the bulwarks
down below.”’

The rest scurried to the main deck, but
he remained a moment clinging to the
railing, and searchingly swept the sea
with his eyes.

“‘I can’t make it out to save me,’’ he
murmured. ‘‘I was not asleep or dream-
ing. Isaw that vessel as sure as- fate.
But why didn’t the others see it too?
Spendly was on watch on the other side
of the deck. He—why, by Jove! probably
ag was asleep! It’s certainiy mysterious. ’’

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY,

   

with the first, third, fourth and new fourth

class cadets from the Naval Academy, had

passed the Capes of the Chesapeake,
bound out on the annual summer cruise.

Moderately fair weather had suddenly
given way to a sharp. squall shortly be-
fore dark, and this had changed by mid-
night to a gale which promised to last
until morning.

Clif, with several of his plebe friends,
had gone on watch at four bells (two
o'clock) and it was while he was acting
as lookout on the starboard side of the

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE WHALE BOAT LURCHED VIOLENTLY AGAINST THE STERN AND WAS INSTANTLY CAPSIZED,
THROWING ITS OCCUPANTS INTO THE WATER (page 837).

The old Monongahela pitched and
tolled heavily in the seas. The gale
shrieked unceasingly through the taut
tigging. Monster waves, wind blown and
angry, leaped against the stout wooden
hull as if eager to drag it apart. Flying
masses of vapor, dank and salty, scudded
_ through the air, and in the midst of it all
the driving rain poured with a sleet-like
sharpness against the faces of the watch
on deck,

Ten hours previous the practice ship,

forecastle that he insisted he had sighted
a vessel dead ahead.

There was more than one cadet on.

board rejoicing in his apparent discom-
fiture. Since his entrance into the Acad-
emy Clif Faraday had leaped into prom-
inence by assuming the leadership of the

plebe class in its effort to escape hazing.

He had been wonderfully successful,
and through his generalship the new
fourth were triumphant over their natural
enemies,

833

 

   
   
   
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
    
 
    
  
 

   
 

834

When the selected classes sailed from
Annapolis on the practice cruise, the
situation was one of armed peace. And it
was because of this that Clif Faraday was
hated of the upper classes, and his sup-
posed disgrace in being relieved from
watch viewed with jov by many of his
mates,

He felt rather downcast when he finally
left the forecastle and rejoined his chums
under the lee of the port bulwarks.
. Lieutenant Watson’s sarcastic words hurt
him. And especially so, as he considered
them entirely undeserved.

That he had really seen a vessel almost
within a cable’s length of the Monon-
gahela he was positive. But why had not
others seen it? And why did the ship
disappear so mysteriously and suddenly ?

Clif was not superstitious, nor did he
place any faith in the tales of the old
sailors, but his flesh creeped as he cast one
last glance at the raging seas, and he
welcomed with gladness Nanny’s cheery
voice.

‘“‘Hello, chum! Seen anything more of
your Dutchman ?” laughed the little lad.

‘That's what Judson Greene called
mw satd joy, gloomily. | “He's always
trying to say mean things. Why can’t he
be peaceful, and not always attempt to
stir up trouble? Why ain’t he like me?
When I have it in fora fellow, dol go
round casting sneering remarks? No,
indeedy! I actlike a peaceful man anda
Christian. I simply swat him one with a
club, or beat the blooming head off him.’’

‘“‘Hurray!’’ giggled the Japanese youth.
*“You bully boy after my own—my own
—what you call him ?”?

“‘Liver?’? suggested a lad named Tog-
gles, gravely.

‘*Perhaps he means after his own giz-
zard ?”’ slyly observed Nanny.

‘There was a general laugh at Trolley’s
expense, and he laughed the loudest ot
all. Nothing could shake his good nature.

Clif stooped down and, leaning upona
broadside gun, glanced thoughtfully
through the crack of the port shutter.

**Still looking for your ship?’ asked
‘Toggles sympathetically at his elbow.

“yes. But. to tell the: trutas |] dou/t
know whether I care to see it again or
not,’’ was the grave reply.

‘‘Why not, chum? It seems to me that

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

if it was sighted again tt would clear you
of any suspicion. What is your reason
for not wanting to see it???’

Clif did not reply at once. Resting

against the polished breech of the heavy

gun, he continued to gaze into the dark
wall of mist. Presently he spoke, and his
serious tone surprised his hearers.

“'Chums,’’ he said, ‘*de you know t
believe there is some mystery connected
with that strange-looking ship?”

‘CA mystery ?’’? echoed Nanny, wonder-
ingly.

“Yes. Iam positive I saw it just as I
described it to Lieutenant Watson. I was
standing near the heel of the bowsprit
looking ahead, when, suddenly there
came a flash of lightning, and before the
glare died away, 1 saw a peculiar looking
hull, battered and worn, with two masts
clear of yards and sails. At each top was
a queer, round object shaped like a barred
cage. As far as I could see there was no
one on board, and the vessel seemed—
heavens! what was that?”

Clif’s description ended in an exclama-
tion of profound amazement. ‘There was
good cause for it. Suddenly and without
warning, a horrible scream, blood-
curdling in its intensity, sounded through
the length and breadth of the practice-
ship.

It was not uttered by any on board,
but seemed to come froin off the port
beam. ‘There was an instant of breathless
silence, then, just as the crew, aroused
and horrified, rushed from below, a second
terrible cry arose above the whistling of
the gale.

The men.at the wheel were so startled
that, staunch seamen though they were,
they involuntarily released the spokes.
There was not much canvas exposed to
the wind, merely the topsails and storm
staysails, close-reefed, but there was

enough spread to send the ship almost
aback.

The captain, hurrying from, his cabin, |
grasped the situation at once.’ A sharp
word of command brought the Sailors to
a sense of their duty, and they hurled
themselves upon the wheel just in time
to keep the Monongahela from broaching
to.

As she staggered around, trembling

under the force of the gale, there sud-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

  

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

denly came a startling cry from amid-
ships.

**Ship abeam!
on us!’

whe yeice was Clif’s, and the Jad,
dimly revealed in the faint. light of
dawn, was standing upon the lower port
main shrouds, pointing with .shaking
hand to where, lurching wildly toward
the practice-ship, was a grim, weather-
beaten hull,.with two bare masts, having
cage-like objects in the tops.

The next *moment there was a terrific
crash and grinding of timbers, then as
the Monongahela reeled with the shock,
the strange ship staggered away, that
wierd scream echoing from her deck.

hook She is almost

ee ee

CHAPTER IIL
THE MYSTERIOUS SHIP.

Discipline is brought to an excellent
state of perfection on all war-ships as a
rule, and the practice cruiser was no ex-
ception.

Naval officers are trained to exercise in-
stant discretion in time of danger, and it
is considered a sign-of incompetency if
one should lose his wits under such cir-
cumstances.

Lieutenant Watson, the executive offi-
cer of the Monongahela, aroused from a
sound sleep by the indescribable pande-
monium, lost no time in heedless in-
quiries, but rushed on deck clad only in
his night-clothes.

By the time he had cleared the com-
_ panion ladder the officer of the watch and
the captain of the ship were thundering
orders right and left.

Under their instructions the old
Monongahela was again before the wind,
and an immediate examination of damages
being made.

But in the midst of it all, over on the
port side of the main deck, Trolley, the
Jap, excited and happy, was dancing
about Clif, and shouting half in Japanese
and half in English:

**You tight, you right! Hurray! Hiko
Bote, ci jara. Vou see ship after all:
Hurray! You bully boy. No sleep, but
see ship all the time. You are great
peach. Hurray !”’

‘‘T_ knew he was right all the time,’
exclaimed Toggles,

“So did I,’’ chimed in little Nanny.

 

835

‘“ The first-luff was evidently of a ee
ent Opiuion,’? said Cli, grimly. -“ bul
what can be the matter aboard that ship,

- and what is she???

‘There is something wrong on board,”’
spoke up Joy. ‘‘Those screams were
horrible. My blood is running cold. Yet,
Look! there she is again!?’

He pointed excitedly to leeward, where,
dimly visible through the lightening
mist, was the peculiar craft with which
the Monongahela had just been in colli:
sion.

She lurched and pitched and ee
with the wild irresponsible motion of a
vessel at the mercy of the waves. [he
dawn was not far enough advanced to
enable those on boargl the practice-ship to
distinguish more than vague outlines.

Every glass on board was directed 'to-
ward the strange craft as soon as it was
ascertained that little damage had been
done the Monongahela by the collision,
but nothing indicating the presence of
human beings on board could be seen:

Clif and his friends were wild with
curiosity, but not more so than their
shipmates. ‘The peculiar experiences of
the night, the sighting and sudden disap-
pearance of the stranger, the collision and
above all those wierd, half-human Cries,
had created intense interest.

The captain, Lieutenant Watson and
other officers were gathered in the gang-
way neat where the carpenter and his
assistants were making hasty repairs.

The gale was giving promise of lessen-
ing. The wind had died down with the
coming of the sun, but the seas were still
running high. Nothing had been done to
increase the spread of canvas, and the
old frigate lurched along at a reduced
speed.

‘‘IT would given a great deal to learn
what ship that is, and the meaning of
those horrible cries,’’ said Captain Brooks
gravely. ‘‘There’s some mystery about
iti)?

‘‘She looks like an old-time light-
ship,’’ spoke up the executive oticer,
working his spy-glass.

“‘Hatdly of this century, though,” re-
marked the surgeon, who was a student
of naval architecture from choice. ‘‘See!
the mist is clearing now. ‘The sun is

  

   
 

   

836
shining on her. . By Jove what a queer-
looking craft she is.”’

‘“‘J’ve a notion,’’ began the captain re-
flectively.

Standing at a respectful distance, but
within earshot, were Clif and his compan-
ions. They edged eagetly toward the
group of officers, ‘and Faraday’s intelligent
face lighted up with excitement and keen
anticipation. ?

‘*He’s going to send a boat,’’ he whis-
pered to Trolley. ‘‘If he does I'll be one
of the crew or break a leg.’

‘“Me, too,’ chattered the Japanese
youth. ‘‘I no miss that for——’’

*‘T have a notion, gentlemen,’’ repeated
the captain, ‘‘to send over there and in-
vestigate.’

‘It’s our duty, sir,’’ said Lieutenant
Watson emphatically. ‘‘If you say the
word, sir, I will take a boat now.”’

‘‘Any room for me??? asked the pay-
master earnestly.

‘‘T can pull an oar, sir,’’ insinuated the
marine officer.

*‘As navigator, I consider it my duty
to make the visit,’’ spoke up a tall, fine-
looking lieutenant.

‘The captain laughed.

“If it wasn’t against the rules I’d go
myself,’? he said. ‘‘As it is the first deck
officer shall make the trip. Mr. Jones,’’
turning to another officer, ‘‘take the
whale boat and a good crew, and see
what you can find on board that vessel.
Better go armed. There’s no telling what
you will encounter. Make haste, and
bring me a detailed rerort.”’

‘The practice-ship’s course was changed,
and in less than an hour she was hove to
within a half mile of the mysterious
vessel.

_ The latter was in plain view now, and
she presented a sight that brought excla-
mations of wonder and amazement from
the Monongahela’s crew.

She was unlike anything in the shape
of a vessel they had ever before seen. She
was high forward and aft, with a curious
house-shaped structure amidships. The
masts were mere poles, guiltless of yards,
ropes or sails. There was no regular
bowsprit forward, but in its place was a
queer, stumpy bow.

~At the top of each mast were small,

circular wooden cages. ‘The sides of the

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

  

hull seemed to be painted green at first,
but the surgeon’s sharp eyes soon ascer-
tained that it was not paint, but a Juxuri-
ant growth of marine grass.

The decks were littered with debris,
and trailing over the stern was apparently
a mass of tangled ropes and sails.

This much was made out when the
shrill notes of the boatswain’s whistle
calling away the whale boat echoed
through the practice-ship. Clif was dis-
consolate. His boat was the gig. He
stcod in the gangway watching the work
of lowering the narrow, double-ended
craft, wishing with all his heart and soul
that he was one of the lucky crew.

Suddenly the coxwain poked his head
above the hammock netting and called
out that he was a man short.

The lieutenant who had been selected

to go, glanced about the deck inquiringly.
His eyes fell upon Clif, and that youth
sprang forward, hopped nimbly up the
main shrouds, and was descending the

boat falls before the officer could make up ©

his mind to select him. A few moments
later the whale boat was clear of the
Monongahela, and being propelled across
the heaving sea by her sturdy crew.

Once, while the boat was swung around
by a wave, Clif sighted the strange ship.
Something moving near the bow caught
his eye, and he gavea start and almost
dropped his oar.

‘“Steady there! What is the matter
with you?’’? came sternly from the lieu-
tenant.

Clif said nothing, but his hands trem-
bled as they clasped the oar again. His
brain was in a whirl. He longed to rub
his eyes to see if he was still awake, or if
that which he had just seen or fancied he
had seen, was real or a phantom.

The cadet behind him said as he leaned
forward:

‘Did you sight anything? You look
white and scared.”’
Clif compressed his lips, and main-

tained an uncompromising silence. He
was not certain of his own senses, and he
had no desire to expose himself to ridi-
cule.

The whale-boat swept on and finally
gained a position on the lee side of the
tossing hulk. A weather-beaten rope

    
 
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
 
 
  
  
  
 
 
  
  
 
   
   
   
  
   

 

 

 

 

 

 

    
    
   
 

   

 
 

 

 

dangling over the side promised a means
of ascending to the deck.

“Catch it, one of you,’’ shouted the
officer, “Shin up the side and take the
painter.’’

The position of the boat brought the
rope within reach of Clif’s hands, and he
lost no time in obeying the order.

Fortunately the black tarry strands
were strong enough to bear his weight,
and he was soon climbing agilely toward
the high railing.

Slipping and sliding, up, up he went,
the pressure of his feet dislodging masses
of the strange, slimy green marine vegeta-
tion adhering to the storm-beaten planks.

Finally he grasped the rail and crawled
over. Then, just as he disappeared, those
below heard a strangling; unearthly cry,
followed by the sounds of a desperate
struggle.

Then came one shrill, agonizing appeal
for help, and—silence!

erect seme eemeeel

7 CHAPTER 1V.
THE FIGHT ON THE DERELICT.

The lieutenant and the crew of the
whale-boat, at first aghast with horror
and amazement, speedily recovered their
wits.

Springing to his feet the officer made a
grasp for the dangling rope. Before he
could reach it a long wave swept along
the rolling hull and caught the whale-
boat upon its crest.

There was a surge and a violent
wrench, and over went the luckless officer
headlong into the sea. The frail craft was
swept under the sloping stern, dashed
once against the hull, and then it cap-
sized, throwing the whole crew into the
water.

All this was witnessed by the Monon-
gahela’s crew, and excitement reigned on
board.

Captain Brooks took personal charge of
affairs, and under his able direction two
boats, the cutter and sailing launch, were
lowered and manned.

In the latter went Trolley and Joy,
both managing to slip aboard during the
excitement.

As yet the full extent of the tragedy
was not known. Clif had been seen to
climb over the railing, but the unearthly
_ ery and the appeal for help had not reached

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

 

  

the practice-ship. Then came the cap-
sizing of the whale-boat, and-the instant
necessity of action.

Lieutenant Watson tok command of |

the cutter, which was the faster of the
two. He was an able man, and he soon
had the crew bending to their oars.

The gale was now a thing of the past;
and the sea was rapidly subsiding. Clear
skies overhead, and a brightly shining
sun robbed the scene of much of its
former gruesomeness.

In the sailing launch Trolley and Joy
were laboring with might and. main, as
indeed all were. But the two young
plebes had an added interest in reaching
the strange derelict from the fact that Clif
Faraday, their friend and chum, was on
board the craft whence those horrible cries
had come.

Tt was aot long. betorée: the cutter
reached the capsized whale-boat. Cling-
ing to the keel were five of the crew.
They were instantly dragged on board
and a start made for the stern of the
derelict.

The lieutenant and the rest of the crew
were either swimming in that vicinity or
holding on to the rudder.

The rather clumsy launch dashed up in
time to rescue the officer, who had man-
aged to keep himself afloat by strenuous
efforts. As he was lifted over the side by
willing hands, he gasped hurriedly:

‘‘Ouick! board that vessel. Faraday is
there, and he is in trouble.’’

Trolley exclaimed something in Jap-
anese, and sprang to hisfeet. Nimbly
stepping forward, he made a flying leap
from the launch’s bow, and caught the
rope dangling from the derelict’s stern.

‘Stop!’ sternly ered the office, i
charge. ‘‘Wait until you are ordered to
leave the boat.’’

But the young Japanese paid no heed
to the words. The impetus caused by the
leap sent him swinging and scraping
along the slimy side of the strange craft,
but he drew himself up inch by inch and
finally gained the rail.

‘‘Stand by to catch a rope,’’ called out
the lieutenant, making the best of the.

situation. ‘‘Make it fast to—Gods! what’s
the matter ?’’
Splash!

It was Trolley. The Saiaart youth :

mice

 

   
 

 

838
had suddenly turned and with a shriek of
fear, had plunged headlong into the sea.

The .crews of the cutter, launch and
whale-boat exchanged glances of undeni-
able terror. Several seamen began shov-
ing the boats away from the derelict with
their oars.

‘Belay that!’? shouted Lieutenant
Watson in arage. ‘‘Aboard the launch!
pick up that cadet and stand by to board.
Here, Brown, steady this rope. Tl see

.. what’s up on this confounded craft.’

- “[he last words were addressed to the
coxswain, who instantly grasped the
lower bight of the line and held it while
the fearless officer ascended. Half way to
the top he held himself with one hand,
and loosened his sword in its scabbard
with the other. ‘Then he began again to
draw himself upward. :

His progress was watched with breath-
less interest below. Suddenly the officer
in charge of the sailing launch gave a
muttered order. The crew fell to the oars
and the launch dashed ahead toward the
bow.

In the mean time, Trolley, dripping
wet and evidently badly frightened, had
been dragged from the water. His teeth
were chattering, and his face had assumed
a grayish pallor.

‘*Por Heaven’s sake, what’s the matter
iy therer’ queried Joy in a frenzy of
exciiement. “speak! where is Chi?”

The Japanese youth crouched in the
bottom of the boat and muttered and
shook his head like one demented.

Suddenly all eyes were drawn to the

tailing above by the horrible, unearthly ,

ery first heard during the gale. It rang
out with such blood-curdling intensity
that the faces of the listeners blanched.
‘We
here!’’ hoarsely muttered one of the oars-
men. ‘‘This consarned Flying Dutchman
is h’anted. I move we git as fast as we
Can.)
‘‘And leave Faraday and Lieutenant

haven’t any business fooling .

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

Watson behind ?’’ fiercely demanded Joy. —
‘*That’s a fine suggestion.’?

Just then the sailing launch reached
the bow.: A quick scrutiny revealed

several broken bolts and beam ends where

the bowsprit and stays had been torn
away. A fragment of chain was hanging
down and swinging with a harsh gyrating
sound against the side.

‘‘Climb up there, one of you,’’ called
out the officer in charge.

Joy, who was nearest, started to obey,
but before he could leave the boat:a pro-
digious hubbub came from aft.

Looking in that direction he saw Ljieu-
tenant Watson striking fiercely with his
sword at something behind the rails. —

An indescribable pandemonium came
from the deck. Harsh cries and groans,
wild shrieks, moans anda queer grunting
sound which seemed more unearthly than
all the rest.

One of the cutter’s crew was climbing
the rope as’ fast as his arms could lift
him, and another was preparing to follow.

Almost frantic with excitement, Joy
fairly scaled the bow of the derelict. As
his hand touched the broken rail, he
heard the heavy breathing beneath him.
A familiar voice gasped: :

**Hurry, hurry, Joy! Me want to come
too. Hurry! Ino afraid any more even
if I see plenty devil... Ouick?’

The next moment Joy threw one leg
over the bulwark and dropped to the
deck. Then, with eyes bulging and face
whitened to the color of chalk, he turned
to spring back over the side.

CHAPTER /V.
THE MYSTERY SOLVED.

Trolley grasped him by the arms and
held him against the rail. A sailor ap-
peared above the level of the deck, took
one glance, then vanished. A_ sullen

splash proclaimed his destination.
Joy’s fright faded by degrees. Finally

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
   
 
 

    
    
   
 

 

 

“he again looked down the deck over the

little house-like structure amidships.
What he saw was this.

Up on the high after, or cabin, deck,
were four horribly grotesque figures.
One was a giant negro, coal black in
color, and almost devoid of clothing.
‘Tied around his middle was a simple
strip of some animal’s skin. His hair was
long and matted. His mouth savage in its
brutal gaping. His narrow eyes fierce and
bloodshot. He was bleeding from a great

‘wound evidently just given him by Lieu-
_témant Watson, who had retreated to the
extreme after rail.

With the maniac, for such he seemed to
be, were three monster apes, almost as
large asa man. They were leaping about
with appalling nimbleness, and uttering
strange, blood-curdling, half-human cries.

Lying huddled in the port scupper was
Clif Farraday apparently dead. His uni-
form had been rent in tatters, and a little
rivulet of blood trickled back and forth
upon the deck near him as the derelict
pitched and rolled.

This much Joy and Trolley saw, then
one of the apes caught sight of them.

The monster uttered a cry of rage, and,
snatching up a fragment of spar from the
deck, advanced upon them. It leaped
with great agility, from the high after-
deck to the midship house, and then, still
uttering its horrible screams, sprang upon
the forecastle.

But by that time the two plebes had
received reinforcements. The lieutenant

-in charge of the launch appeared over the

 

 

railing, and, after the first gasp of sur-
prise, ordered his men on board.
When the latter caught sight of the

giant, gorilla-like ape advancing, there

was a panic, but a stern word from the

officer held the seamen and cadets to their

duty. | :
Joy let fly with a belaying pin he had

picked up, and it caught the monster

squarely in the face, staggering him. The

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

advantage was followed by the lieutenant
without loss of time.

Springing forward with drawn sword
he lunged out, sending the point of the
sharp blade into the ape’s breast.

There was a horrible scream of agony
as the animal fell to the deck, a snap of
the sword as it broke, then after a few
convulsive shudders, there was one foe
ie Tess.

In the meantime a prodigious hubbub
from aft indicated action in that direction.

When the victorious crew of the launch
started aft they saw that Lieutenant
Watson had also received reinforcements.
But it was plain that still others were
needed. |

The giant negro was fighting with
maniacal fury. And the two apes were
following his example so fiercely that the
executive officer and his six companions
were hard pressed to keep their ground.

‘The appearance of the launch’s crew
changed affairs at once, however. Armed
with cutlasses, belaying pins and cudgels
they fell upon the negro and his animal
companions and, after a brief but desper-
ate combat, forced them to retreat.

The maniac fought his way forward.
As he was being pursued he sprang upon
the port bulwark and with a wild chatter-
ing cry, leaped overboard.

A rush was made to the side, but all
that remained to reveal the fate of the
negro were a few bubbles and a widening
circle of ripples. He had gone to his
death.

The two apes were writhing upon the
deck: in their last agony, As the mien
turned back they expired.

Trolley and Joy quickly kneeled at the
side of Clif Faraday. ‘Their faces showed
their grief and anxiety. A hasty examina-
tion brought a whoop of joy from the

Jap. .

“He live,’ he shouted. ‘‘Hurray! he
no dead. Get water. Clif no die yet.
Whoop!’’

  
840
Lieutenant Watson, bleeding and ex-
hausted, bent over the unconscious lad,
and, with the aid of a flask of whisky,
from the launch’s medicine chest, soon
brought a sigh from Clif’s lips.
He came to with a start and a gasp of

terror. ‘The latter emotion was so real
that it required considerable effort to
soothe him. When he at last realized the
true state of affairs, his relief was mani-
fest.

‘“Trolley,’’ he said tremulously, ‘‘I—I
thought it was the other world, and I had
taken the toboggan slide by mistake.’’

‘‘You all right,’’ grinned the Japanese
youth. ‘‘Hurray! It take plenty kill
you.’

Clif managed to stand erect after his
wound, a lacerated incision in the shoul-
der given by one of the apes, had been
attended to.

Lieutenant Watson and the other offi-
cers made an inspection of the strange
craft, and found evidences to prove that
she had originally done duty as a primi-
‘tive lightship in some southern Mediter-
ranean port, presumbly in Algeria.

“‘T am more inclined to think so from
the fact that we found that African negro
aud’ «the apes’ on «beard, said: the
executive officer, as they returned from
below. ‘‘I think I understand matters
now. ‘This negro was evidently an atten-

_. dant on board, and the apes were pets.”’

‘*Tt’s customary to have them on ships
in those ports,’’ spoke up one of. the
officers.

“*Ves. Well, the lightship evidently

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

  

got adrift during a storm and was blown

‘to sea, through the Gut of Gibralter.’’

‘‘And afterward became a derelict in
the Sargossa Sea. I noticed certain marine
fungi and seaweed on the hull which are
only found in the Sargossa.’’

‘“True. This ship probably drifted back
and forth for months. All the crew died
except the negro, and he was made in-
sane by his surroundings. It’s a strange
story.’?

‘‘Only “another mystery of the sea,”’
said the lieutenant in charge of the
launch, looking about decks. ‘‘Now the
question is, what will we do with her.’

‘*Have a little target practice and send
her down to where all derelicts belong—
the bottom,’’ replied Lieutenant Watson
grimly.

‘‘T may add one thing,’’ he continued.

“T hope never to have such a terrible, -~#

experience again.”’

‘‘Amen!’’ muttered Clif, tenderly feel-
ing his wounds.

Three hours later a well-aimed shot
from one of the Monongahela’s guns sent
the shattered hull of the mysterious
derelict down to its last resting place.

The practice-ship stood away on her
course, and her crew of naval cadets
speedily forgot the episode in'the excite- -
ment of other experiences, | :

[THE END

Ensign Clarke Fitch’s next Naval
Academy story will be entitled, ‘‘Clif
Faraday’s Troupe, or, An Entertainment
at pea,’ |

 

 
 

 

 

 

 
JEROME GREGOIRE, DESERTER.

ey
ea
ON

 

PAR RAV,

al oo
eS

 

 

THE MOBILES POURED OVER THE EDGE OF THE QUARRY BEFORE THE ENEMY COULD RELOAD (page 845).

The last button on the last gaiter of
Jerome Gregoire, private of Mobiles, flew
off with a little snap and fell into the
snow. ,
He stayed his shambling tramp and
stood looking at it, numb with cold,
frozen alike in mind and body—a half
imbecile sentinel, hugging his chassepot
with hands that had no color of human
flesh left in the nerveless fingers, and
then he gave a strange little laugh, and

the blue lips remained curled in a curious
grin long after the sound had gone from
them.

‘‘Life is delicious,’’ he said aloud. ‘‘I
ana supremely delighted that I was born!’

He had trodden a path in the snow,
perhaps twelve yards in length, along the
edge of the wood, and he had been
shuffling up and down that path for
close on an hour, freezing at every stride.

In the centre of the bare trees behind

ie

 
 

842 ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. | /

him, in a hollow out of sight, some thirty
men huddled together. for warmth, and
half a dozen starved horses completed the
sum total of the dismal bivouac.

A terrible resolve had been growing in
the sentinel’s heart, fostered by the
misery of his situation. T’here was surely
a limit to endurance—cold, hunger, pain,
and despair gnawed him under his tat-
tered blanket, and had been gnawing him
for weeks; it culminated in the loss of
that last button.

He gazed blankly at his one boot, his
other foot having no covering but a linen
rag bound round it, and, hardly knowing
what he did, throwing aside all memory
of country, duty, comrades, and cause,
Jerome. Crevoire turned off at. right
angles to his beat, and limped down the
hill still hugging the chassepot, Jerome
Gregoire became a deserter !

When he had gone a short distance the
gravity of his action came upon him. He
looked back; the snow lay white beneath
a starry sky, and the belt of woodland
seemed to raise its bare branches like
gaunt fingers ready to seize sand hoid him
back.

The poor lad sobbed in his frozen
throat and broke into a run, soon losing
himself in other belts of trees with which

that silent land wascovered.

It was warmer running. His breath
hung like a cloud round his battered
kepi, his limbs lost their stiffness, and he
had soon put a mile perce himself and
his forsaken post.

“If I can find a farmhouse where they
will give me a hot drink of milk,’’ he
thought. ‘‘Oh, if I could have one little
drink of hot milk and a morsel of bread—

ever so sinall a piece of something to |

swallow.’’? And Jerome Gregoire began
‘to cry softly as he hobbled over the snow.

He reached the open country, and
‘strained his eyes to find a dwelling, but
there was nothing to indicate life on the

ae,

dreary waste, and hope began to die in
the deserter’s breast.

He still carried his rifle, slinging it
over his shoulder. There might be wolves
or Prussians in the forest, and presently
(his limping run having meanwhile fallen
to a walk once more) he came to a broad
road, deeply rutted by guns and baggage
wagons, and there he halted, uncertain
which way to turn.

‘The road. debouched from the trees,
traversed the clearing where he stood,
and then wound into the dreadful silence

‘of the forest again.

He was thoroughly exhausted, and
could hardly drag one foot. after the
other, and there was a strange numbness
creeping up his legs, with a dizzy aching
in his forehead.

‘‘Eam going.to die,”’ heamutiered, * 116

doesn’t matter which way I go now,”
and he staggered on along the road,
hardly seeing, hardly conscious of the in- »
tense cold, until the deepness of the ruts
forced him to crawl on to the untrodden
snow.
There was no moon, but thousands of
stars twinkled above him; it was so still
that every twig which fell made quite a
loud noise. a

A body of marching men coming
through the wood were too far off as yet
for their tramp to be heard, but they
were approaching nevertheless.

‘‘Oh, my head!’ cried the deserter,
reeling, and pwxessing both hands to his
temples; ‘‘I can go no farther—it is
death !”’

He threw up his arms, tottered for a
moment on his heels, and fell backward
into a disused quarry hidden by the snow.

The marching men came out of the
forest cautiously, following each other in
single file. They, too, made straight for
the quarry, and when they spoke it-was
in German.

Jerome Gregoire was not dead ; at least,

 

 

 

 

 

 
  

 
  

| his heart at any rate still throbbed, and
as he lay on his back in a deep drift,
across his rifle, Jerome Gregoire dreamed,
and he dreamed of a large fire. He ex-
perienced that curious sensation which
we all have known, the feeling that some
pleasant thing is near us, or that we are
in some delightful position which will
>” fade away into nothingness on the open-
ing of our eyes.

He felt cold uo longer; he did not
know why he should be dreaming of a
fire, but somehow it forced itself upon his
senses. He fancied he could hear the
crackling of logs, the hum of voices round
a cheerful blaze; nay, the odor of burn-
ing wood permeated the air he breathed.

He passed, insensibly, that mysterious
) line which divides sleeping from waking,
r~.qaud.opened an eye. Jiis kepi, tied on

with a handkerchief, had been knocked
over the other eye when he fell, but one
was enough to show him that there was a
fire not less than ten yards away—a
bright blaze which shone redly on the
sides of the quarry, and alternately illu-
mined and silhouetted some forty figures
that encircled it.

A full minute elapsed before the poor
boy realized anything beyond profound
surprise, but when his intellect had
undergone a thawing process, he felt that
he was in great danger.

He lay on a ledge above the Prussians,
and ascreen of bushes helped to hide him.

‘It was daybreak; the stars had gone,
and overhead he saw the gray sky heavy

with snow clouds. ;

| He did not know that the Prussians had
been lying in the quarry all night, but,
being an Alsatian, he understood their
language, and soon learned that things
were bad indeed.

- A young man in the tattered rags of a
French Mobile was standing by the fire,
removing his coat and kepi, while another
held a German infantry tunic and pikel-

 
  
  
  
  
  

 

 

Le ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.
while I cannot answer for his lower limbs, *

843

haube ready for him, and a captain in a
great-coat interrogated the spy.

‘‘And then??? he was saying when the
deserted began to listen.

.~ Why, then, tlerr Captain,’ ‘replied
the soldier, worming his arms into the
sleeves of the tunic, ‘‘nothing was sim--
pler, for as I lay in the wood the enemy’s
sentry deserted, and came running down
the hill so close to me that I could have
slid a bayonet between his ribs without
getting on my feet, but it would have
been risky, and he was only a boy, with
one boot, and a bleeding foot tied in a
Fag

mue deserters  leart
thump!

‘“Well??? said the captain.

“The rest was easy,’’ laughed the spy.
‘‘T waited until he was out of sight, and
crept by the unguarded post into the
wood where the others were.

‘‘Presently four of them got up and
went to relieve guard. Himmel! I never
saw such a bivouace—no fire, no food.
They just cowered together in a bunch in
the snow to keep warm, with their toes
poking out of their shoes—those that had
any.

‘“The deserter’s was the first post they
visited, and ina moment the four came
tunning back, crying: ‘Nous sommes
trahis; young Gregoire has gone’; and
then they all spoke at once, and I min-
gled with them in the confusion.”’

A muttered sound of approval went
around the fire and the officer said
‘‘Good,’’? and mentally forgave his in-
ferior for not slaughtering the deserter in
cold blood.

‘‘VYou can tell us the details afterward,
Carl; how many were there?’ asked a
lieutenant who wore spectacles.

‘Thirty fit to march, and two whom)
they must carry or leave behind,’’ replied
the spy, who by that time had resumed
His “Prussian uniform. ‘"Phey are all
Mobiles except one artilleryman and five

gave a great

  
844

mounted Chasseurs, and there are six
horses with them.”’

_ Jerome Gregoire’s heart gave another
thump, and felt as if it had risen into his
throat. oo

A soldier left the group, and striding
to the other end of the quarry, called up
some words seemingly into the sky.

The deserter followed him with his eye
and saw that he was speaking to a sentry
who lay under the edge of the bank
above, looking over. ‘This man’s head
was wrapped in a white cloth with a hole
in it; no one on the road would have
told him from a lump of snow—the
scamps were artful.

He turned and spoke down to the man
below, and the soldier returned to th
fire. ;

Jerome Gregoire looked at the needle-
guns and his spirit groaned within him.

‘“They will come unsuspecting along
the road, and it is I who have betrayed
them,’’ he thought. ‘‘Bon Dieu, what

can ido?”

You cannot do much when you are
frozen to the waist; and as the wretched
lad tried to move, he fell back helpless,
and glared wildly up at the mouth of the

quarry.

The officers were consulting in low
voices, and he could hear no more.

Every few minutes someone went and
spoke to the watcher, and returned quiet-
ly to his place. What a system those
Prussians had; it was that which made
them victors, and the want of which
killed France.

Put out the’ fire,’ said the captain:
and as some handfuls of snow hissed
among the embers, the deserter felt his
hope was extinguished as well.

The sentinel whistled and ducked his
head.

There was no confusion, no bustle,
such as Jerome Gregoire had always been
accustomed to; each Prussian took his

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY, ~ ;
‘gun and formed in line with the rest
across tne bottom of the quarry. One g@

came quite close to the deserter, but as
his back was turned toward the cleft, he
did not see him.

Then, at a word, they scrambled noise-
lessly up out of the pit until their heads
wete within a foot of the top, and there
they waited, clinging to the snowy sides.

The officers crouched by the sentry
with the muffled visage, and he whis-
pered to them as he watched.

A horse neighed in the frosty air; °
Jerome Gregoire heard it, and saw a ges-
ture from the captain, at which each ,
soldier looked to his rifle and prepared tof
spring up. :

‘If I could get out of this,’’ moaned
the deserter vainy struggling, his legs.
glued to the rock, his body immovable
from the waist downward. ‘They would
shoot me, but I should save them—helas,
I cannot stir; Iam growing weaker.’’

He tried to shout—his mouth opened,
but no sound came; and the Prussian
sentinel dropped his head and tore the
cloth from it as he seized his rifle. The
supreme moment had come. Several
horses were trampling on the hard
ground, quite near now, and Gregorie’s
poor thin face flushed as he groped feebly
for his chassepot.

He glanced at the dark figures of the
Prussians, waiting for the signal. Oh!
he was so weak, and the weapon was
entangled under him somehow. Another
pull—it came away, and he managed to
get the butt on his chest, raising the
muzzle until it pointed to the sky.

“When I count three, spring up and
pour in a volley,’’ whispered the Prussian
captain.

‘“The lock is broken—it must be. ‘Too
late!’ rambled the deserter. ‘‘Capitaine,
Tam not a traitor. A drink of hot milk—
a little dink of. —”?

‘Hin! Zwei!’

 
   

  
 

gas ee pulled the trigger!

 

phone Ae snow he wield that
band of Mobiles—keeping no. order,
‘marching desperately on.

Heaven only knew how many leagues
lay between them and breakfast. Nota
crumb lurked in the corner of a haver-
sack, no man among thein had tasted food
fora day anda half.

A single shot from the centre of a
clearing, a sudden sound of voices from
they knew not where, a row of helmets
above the snow, and a broken volley
which killedtwo horsemen. ‘The others
had thrown themselves flat on the ground,
and the next moment were up with a
yell, tearing for the quarry before the
+-Prussians could reload.

 
 
  
 

   
   
 
  
  

It had not lasted long—encounters of
that kind are soon over.

Dark bodies dotted the quarry side,
_ptincipally Prussian, although nine Mo-
biles and two Chasseurs were among
them; the rest were searching for bread
in the wallets of the invaders.

A sergeant of Mobiles stood frowning
thoughtfully in the centre of the pit.

‘‘That first shot was from a chassepot;
-Iknow the tune so well,’’ he said. ‘‘It
is incomprehensible. chil, there’s a
German up on yon ledge; roll him down,
and let us see what he has in his
pockets, ”’

Achil scrambled on to the ledge and
took the dead man by the arm.

 

 

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

845

Then he started !.

‘Come up here, serecant,) he said: in
a low voice; and the sergeant followed
him.

‘‘Who’s this?’ said Achil, dragging |
the great Prussian off the body of a
soldier dressed in their own rags.

‘Ciel! I said it was a chassepot; look,
this has been discharged,’’ muttered the
sergeant, and between them they carried
the poor frozen boy down and laid him
tenderly across the lieutenant with the
spectacles.

‘‘Rrenchmen, we believed last night
that Jerome Gregoire was a traitor,’’ he
said, reverently removing his tattered
kepi, as the others gathered round. ‘‘See
—he was a child; he was hungry like the
rest of us; the cold drove him mad, and
he wandered away to the forest, He
atoned his fault—his warning saved us—
the Good God has rewarded him with |
death, and he is no longer wretched; that
smile on his face is for France. Com-
rades, honor to this dead child;’’ and,
stooping down, he kissed him.

Each man of that band did the same as
they filed past.

The snow was falling when they left
the quarry. Soon the white, whirling
flakes shrouded alike the corpse of friend
and foe; the soldiers were leagues away
on their terrible march, and the sun was
hidden by the blinding storm.

That is the story of Jerome Gregoire,
simple soldat of Mobiles.

  
By William Marray Graydon

Author of ‘A Legacy of Peril,” etc., ete,
(“IN FORBIDDEN NEPAUL” was commenced in No. 15. Back numbers can be obtained from all newsdealers.)

SUMMARY OF THE OPENING CHAPTERS.

Nigel Davenant, an army lieutenant, stationed at Behar, in Bengal, having obtained leave of absence, and, through
the influence of his friends, a letter of invitation from the Durbar of Nepaul and a passport aeross the frontier, has
determixred to visit the but little-known State. He engages as a servant and guide aman named Bhagwan Das, who has
been highly recommended by a brother officer. When nearing the borders of Nepaul, Davenant, by a lucky shot, saves
from the attack of a tiger a mysterious individual, one Travers Hawksmoor. Nigel spends the evening in Hawksmoez’s
tent. and promises to breakfast with him on the following morning. Retiring to rest in his hut in a neighboring village,
Nigel is roused in the early morning by a great outery. Seizing his cap and rifle, he rushes forth, and then discovers
that his servant, Bhagwan Das, has been murdered during the night. When Nigel goes to Hawksmoor’s camp he finds
it deserted, which raises grave suspicions in his mind. Davenan journeys on to Katmandu, the chief city of Nepaul,
where he becomes the guest of Colonel Dudley Raincliffe, the British Resident, and his wife. Amongst others staying
there are Mr. Lorin Brabazon and his beautiful daughter, Muriel. The latter and Nigel have previously met in Kent,
and there is something like a love affair between them. At dinner Davenant meets Matadeen Mir, the Prime Minister of
Nepaul, whom he does not like; nor does he relish the attentions paid by the all-powerful Minister to Miss Brabazon.
- Late in the evening a shot is heard in the grounds of the Residency, and shortly afterwards Mrs. Raincliffe gives the
. alarm that Murielis missing. By most people it is imagined that Muriel has been murdered, and her body thrown into
the rapid river. From secret information, however, obtained from a native by Nigel, the latter is convinced that Miss
Brabazon has been abducted by Matadeen Mir, the Minister.

_ on the bank of the stream, and in a boat late at night the young officer embarks on a voyage of discovery.
_ hears an alarming cry, which sends a chill of dismay to Nigel's stout heart.

CHAPTER X.
THE SECRET OF THE LIGHTED WINDOW.

7q\ROM the river side of the fortress slow-
A| pacing steps echoed on the still night, and

ceased abruptly; over the water rang

gruff voices, and the thud of a musket-

butt grounded heavily. Doubtless a native

officer, going his round of duty, had

stopped to relieve or instruct a sentry.

1, but it was enough to thoroughly alarm
Nigel and make him far less hopeful of success.

And his life was in imminent peril! The boat could
be seen plainly in the dim moonlight, and at any in-
stant might come a challenge or a shot. He thought
of all this in the flash of a second, but before he could
decide what to do the problem was taken out of his
hands. A fierce current setting shoreward suddenly
sucked the boat into the shadow under the bank, then
whirled it into the deeper shadow of the fortress it-
self. There was a grating noise as the craft bumped
the slimy stones, and that quickly Nigel saw and
grasped a rusty iron ring set in the masonry.

He held tight, his heart beating wildly, and aftera
few swinging movements the boat settled quietly
against the wall. Had he been seen or heard? Thank
Heaven, there was no alarm as yet! Courage returned,
and he ventured to look up. Now indistinct voices fell
on his ear, and though he could not. see them he knew
that two persons were standing high above him, ona

‘ ledge or paved walk that ran along the face of the
fortress. If even one of them should remain there on
duty it would be impossible to learn the secret of the
lighted window.

The thought maddened Nigel, and he chafed under
the delay and inaction caused by this unexpected ob-
stacle. But he had not yet abandoned hope, and when
he had waited and listened for several minutes good

fortune rewarded him. He heard the speakers moving.

He suspects her place of detention to be a ruined fortress
Suddenly he

off together, and a moment later he dimly saw two
heads and two pairs of shoulders vanish around an
anglé#at the further end of the fortress. o

Both had gone— there was no doubt of it--and the
coast was now clear for the reckless enterprise; not the
slightest sound could be detected from above. But it
might-not remain clear long; there was not an instant
to lose. The young officer hurriedly tied the boat to
the ring, and rose in the shaky craft. He glanced at
the sheer wall rising overhead, and noted with satis-
faction that it was rugged and seamed—full of pro-
jecting knobs, and tough little shrubs growing in the
crevices. Then he caught hold with both hands, found
lodgment for his feet, and so began the ascent.

Inch by inch he mounted, and when he. was six feet
above the water a slight noise made him glance down.
The boat had broken loose, and was gliding away on
the swift current; either it had been insecurely tied
or the rope had been rotten.

‘By Jove, that puts me in an ugly hole!l’’? Nigel
reflected. ‘‘Well, I’ve burned my ships behind me, and
I’ve got to go on. I may find a way out above, and at
the worst I can take to the water and,swim along
the shore,’’ ;

Undaunted by the misfortune, he continued his
climb, It was a most dangerous undertaking, and full
of various risks; but he was sure-footed and proof
against dizziness. Higher and higher he crept, testing
every projection and crevice before trusting his
weight to them, and sparing no pains to avoid dislodg-
ing any debris that might have betrayed him to. keen
ears. His fingers were soon torn and bleeding, but he
did not mind the pain. With indomitable courage and
skill he crawled like a fly up the face of the centuries-
old wall.

Now he was full sixty feet above the river, and the
murmur of the tide sounded faint in his ears, A few
moments more and the parapet came within reach.
With a sigh of relief his bruised bands fastened on it.
and cautiously drawing his head above the level, he

 
   

 

looked about him. No one was in sight, so he climbed
over and stood on solid stone flagging. Panting and
breathless, he paused for an instant to rest, hearing
only the loud beating of his own heart.

The outer balcony or ledge that he had gained was

- about six feet wide, and skirted by a coping four feet
high. Right and left it stretched in a half circle, van-
shing in both directions around the curved water
front of the fortress. Overhead the grim walls towered

for another thirty or forty feet, and a little to one side

of the daring Englishman a yellow ray of light

marked the window that he had risked so much to
ain.

j The secret was almost within his grasp! The thought
thrilled and nerved him—put fresh strength into his
weary limbs. He did not know how long the climb had
taken him, but he realized that every second was pre-
cious. Aseutry might appear at any moment, and
here on this narrow moonlit ledge, with no place to
hide, there would be no chance for him. Discovery
and capture meant death.

‘‘T must accomplish my purpose at once,’’ he de-
cided, ‘‘and then for the climb down the wall anda
swim to some shelving part of the bank.’’

With that he crept a dozen feet to the left, and
found himself before the window, which was at the
first glimpse disappointing. It was a high and rather
narrow embrasure cut deeply into the thick masonry.
From top to bottom ran a single iron bar red with
, rust, and on the inner side the view was obscured . by
what appeared to bea pile of old lumber, rising toa
height of four or five feet.

Hearing a murmur of voices within Nigel hesitated
-nolonger. Kneeling on the bottom of the ‘window—
which came about to his middle—he cautiously seized
the bar: then he rose slowly to his feet—higher and
higher until his head was above the level of the ob-
struction and just then before he had time to see with-
in disaster befell him.

f With a loud snap the decayed bar broke from its
socket at the top. Nigel lost his balance and fell
heavily forward against the supposed. pile of lumber
which was really a stack of heavy boxes. They swayed

aN and yielded, toppled over with a tremendous crash,

and the luckless young officer went sprawling head-
foremost into the room on top of them.

He staggered quickly to his feet, stunned and dizzy,
badly bruised, and yet conscious of his deadly peril.
By a swift glance he took in his surroundings—a huge
dungeon-like apartment dimlylighted by two lamps,
the walls lined with stacks of unmistakable rifle-cases,
and standing close by in petrified amazement—Pershad
Singh and Matadeen Mir!

With a cry the latter whipped out his sword and
whirled it overhead.

‘(Lieutenant Davenant?’’ he
‘(Surrender !’’

‘(Cut him down!?’ hissed Pershad Singh, drawing
his own blade. ‘‘Kill the spy!”’

‘¢Gome nearer at your peril!’?? warned Nigel, as he
hauled out his revolver and leveled it.

Thus the three stood for a moment, and the two
Hindoos looked at each other with more of fear and
suspicion than anger in their eyes. As for Nigel, he
thought less of his danger than of his bitter disappoint-
ment. Soma had given him a false clue, and in vain
he had forfeited his life and liberty. He still believed
that Muriel was Matadeen Mir’s captive, but she was

__. »f probably not confined in the fortress. For this he had
hie risked all—to find the Prime Minister an@ the com-
mander of the army inspecting the store of arms. He
was in a fatal trap, and he could think of no way to
get out of it.

   
  
  
 

 

shouted, hoarsely.

 

nee no 4

CHAPTER XI.
HOW THE INTERVIEW ENDED.

Matadeen Mir was the first to break the silence.
‘¢Spy!?? he said in a hissing tone. ‘‘This will prove a
bad night’s work for you, Lieutenant Davenant. From
the first I suspected you. What treacherous design is

  
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

here under false pretences with secret instructions to
learn the military strength of Nepaul? Your country
is well named Perfidious Albion!

‘¢ And death is our penalty for-less offences than spy-
ing,’’ growled Pershad Singh, with a malevolent
twinkle of his dark eyes. ‘‘I know not how you found

 

 

 

  
   

 

your government hatching that it should send you

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY

~

847

access here, Dayenant Sahib, but you have ventured
where foreigners are forbidden to put foot, and where
an Englishman has never trodden béfore.’’

“T am not a spy,’’ Nigel asserted, indignantly, but
with a sinking heart, ashe felt the damning meshes
tightening about him. ‘‘I had no secret instructions
from my government, nor did I come here with the
intentions you accuse me of,’’

‘Then what was your purpose??’
Prime Minister.

‘‘Guriosity, if you care to believe it,’’ the young
officer replied, wishing to gain time.

Matadeen Mir laughed.

‘<Did you come alone?’’ he asked.

‘Yes, alone.??

‘¢And how???

“By water,’? Nigel admitted; ‘‘and then I climbed
the wall.’’

‘‘By Brahma, it is a marvel you did not break your
neck !?? muttered Pershad Singh.

At that instant, Nigel having been put off his guard.
by the cool questioning, his revolver was _ knocked
from his hand by a quick upward stroke of Matadeen
Mir’s sword; and as quickly the two Hindoos threw
themselves upon him, both uttering loud shouts. A
hard but brief struggle ensued. Nigel was over-
matched by his antagonists, yet for a moment or so he
kept his feet. Then four wiry little Nepaulese soldiers
burst into the room, and these speedily had the young
officer fast and helpless in their clutches. Exhausted
and panting, he submitted without further resistance.

Having smoothed his rumpled attire, Matadeen Mir
suddenly stooped and picked up a metal object from
the floor. Ashe looked atit he gave a start, and his
countenance changed.

Nigel observed these signs, and he also recognized
the object as the key of the wicket-gate—it must have
fallen from his clothing during the struggle. He was
in too bitter and desperate a mood to be prudent, and
recklessly he cried out:

‘ ot Highness has good cause to remember that
ey

“T have seen it before,’’ replied Matadeen Mir, with
a pe smile. All trace of his agitation had van-
ished.

‘¢You have handled it!’? cried Nigel, goaded to fury.
‘You stole it from the Resident’s library the night
Muriel Brabazon disappeared! Scoundrel, what have
you done with the girl?”?

He regretted the mad words as soon as they were
spoken, but was too late to recall them. He had partly
broken his promise to Soma, and he had blindly given
his enemies a strong incentive for putting him secretly
and quietly out of the way. He shuddered to think
what his fate might be. ‘

But the accusation produced a most unexpected
effect on the Prime Minister. Instead of falling into
a rage or showing trace of guilt and consternation, he
merely laughed mockingly. He turned to Pershad
Singh who was also smiling as though vastly amused.
Nigel, standing in the grasp of the soldiers, watched
the two with amazement.

‘‘T see things more clearly now,’’ said Matadeen
Mir, turning sternly to the prisoner. ‘‘J begin to be-
lieve that you are not a spy, Lieutenant Davenant.
But among all the Feringhees [I have ever known there
was none so mad and foolish as yourself. So you saw
me take the key? I remember you werein the com-
pound at the time.’

‘““You admit it, then?’’ cried Nigel.

_**You saw me take the key,’’ Madateen Mir con-
tinued, evasively, ‘‘and you kept that knowledge to
yourself. You suspected that I had_ plotted to carry
the girl off, and you determined to work alone on that
false scent until you had fastened the crime on me.
You have doubtless been spying in Katmandu at
night, dogging my footsteps to the fortress, and you

made your way here this evening atrisk of life, ex-

demanded the

pecting to find the girla captive in thisroom. Is it

not true?’’

Nigel gave no answer. He was thunderstruck by the
Hindoo’s cool audacity.

‘‘Ah, you are speechless!?’? said Matadeen Mir.
‘*You realize your folly, and what it ‘will cost you.
Had you confided in the Resident at once, you would
have spared yourself all this, for he knew that I took
the key.”’

‘¢Colonel Raincliffe knew that you took the key?**
Nigel burst not, incredulously. :

 

  
848

‘Yes, he knew it. Thefactsare these, Lieutenant
Davenant. On the fatal night, early in the evening,
Miss Brabazon told me that she intended before retir-
ing to see the falls of the Vishnumati by moonlight,
and that the key to the private gate was over the desk
in the library. J tried to dissuade her from her pur-
pose, knowing that evil characters prowled en the
plain at night. Failing in this, I slipped later into
the library aud removed the key, intending to give it
to the Resident before returning to the palace. But
the key slipped from my clothing in the course of the
evening—I do not know where or how—and Miss
Brabazon must have picked it up. I did not miss’ it
until the alarm was given, and in the morning I told
the Resident in confidence all that I have just told
you. It was natural that he should keep the fact to
himself, since it threw no light on the crime,’?

No light on the crime! Nigel pondered the words as
he stared blankly at the Hindoo. Had he made a mis-
take, after all? Was the man really guilty, or was he
a most cunning liar and actor, a plotter of almost in-
eredible ingenuity and resource? : )

‘‘Hool!?? Matadeen Mir hissed, malignantly, ‘‘you
must suffer. The charge of spying will not be pressed,
but you have broken a sacred law of Nepaul—you
have dared to steal like a thief into this fortress,
where no Englishman may enter, I might order you
to be slain at once, but I willbe more merciful. ‘he
Durbar shall decide your fate in council, and mean-
while I will inform the Resident «cf your unfortunate
position.”’ ,

‘«Ffe deserves death,’’? muttered Pershad Singh. ‘‘At
least keep him safely.’’

‘‘T will do that,’’? said Matadeen Mir. ‘‘Remove
the prisoner to one of the lower dungeons,’’ he added,
imperatively, to the soldiers.

“Nigel said nothing, offered no resistance. He went
meekly with his custodians, down gloomy stone stairs
and along interminable corridors, and at last he was
thrust into a narrow cell and an iron door was locked
on him. Through a small window studded with bars
the pallid moonlight shone on damp walls and floor,
on a heap of musty straw in the corner; a murmur of
flowing water told that the river was close at hand.
And this was the end of the night’s adventure!

A block of stone served for a seat, and on this Nigel
sat for a long time—it might have been hours—in a
sort of dazed stupor. Then he rose and tried the bars
of the window, chagrined to find them tightly im-
bedded. Next he fell to thinking, wishing to sort
what truth he could from the vague doubts and sus-
picions that filled his mind; and in the end he held
stoutly to two facts—the one was a certainty of the
Prim Minister’s guilt, and the other was the venge-
ance he felt assured his powerful enemy would wreak
upon him.

“*Tt would be hard to match that scoundrel’s cun-
ning,’’ he reflected; ‘‘but with all his clever lies he
has not deceived me. Matadeen Mir is responsible for
Muriel’s disappearance, though whether he has killed
her or carried her off alive becomes again a doubtful
question. It may be true that he told the Resident
about the key, and if he did so he hatched the lie to
guard against the possibility of his having been seen
from outside. Now lamin his power, and he is too
sharp to release me, or to inform the Resident of what
has occurred, though he promised to do so. A few
hours more and I will be secretly put out of the way
—yes, I am certain of it—and Muriel’s fate may never
be known.”’

Brave and stout-hearted as the young officer was,
he conid not shake off his fear and despondency. Up
and down the narrow limits of his cell he paced rest-
lessly, and the day was dawning when at last he sank
down on the heap of mouldy straw and fell into a

‘sound slumber,

Body and mind must have been sorely exhausted,
for when he awoke it was late in the afternoon. He
discovered this by peering through the bars of the
window. ‘The cell was only a few feet above the level
of the river, and his view was limited to the steep and
rocky bank lying across the narrow tide, on which

_ the slanting sun was gleaming through a haze of gold

and purple. Turning away, he saw food and water on
the floor; they had been brought in while he slept. He
was hungry and thirsty, but the dread of poison
checked him. What more natural than that Matadeen
Mir should choose this instrument of death? So he

_ sat down on the stone seat, and in full desy air watched

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.
the bine sky and the sunlight outside the iron bars.

. the Resident.

A noise roused him suddenly. He lifted his head and
listened. He heard approaching steps, and the next in-
stant the bolts were drawn and the cell door opened.

And on the threshold stood Colonel Raincliffe, witha
native guard close behind him. .
‘Thank God!?’? Nigel exclaimed, joyously. ‘‘So he

really told you?’’
The revulsion of feeling was so great that he nearly
burst into tears.

‘“‘Davenant, what madness possessed you to do this
thing?’ the Resideent began. He looked haggard and
anxious. ‘‘Is the Prime Minister’s story true? Is it
possible that you accused him of carrying off Muriel
Brabazon, and that you broke into the fortress, expect-
ing to find the girl a captive here?’’

‘*It is true, sir,’’ Nigel admitted; ‘‘but surely I had
reason to believe——’’ ~
_‘*Do you mean the key? Matadeen Mir explained
that to my complete satisfaction on the morning after

* the tragedy.’

**Then he actually told you that he took it to pre-
vent Muriel from carrying out her rash design?’’
‘“Yes, and I believe him. But how did you learn of
the affair?’’
**T cannot tell you that now,’’ Nigel replied; ‘‘but
Iam firmly convinced, Colonel Raincliffe, that Mata-
deen Mir was at the bottom of the girl’s death or ab-
Sue the future may prove it to have
een.

‘It is madness, Davenant. You don’t know what
you are talking about. Of course Miss Brabazon is
dead—there is no doubt of it. I forgot to tell you the
murderers have been caught,”’

‘The murderers caught?’’ Nigel gasped.

‘Yes, some villagers betrayed them, and they were
arrested this morning by Pershad Singh’s soldiers—
two most evil-looking ruffians. A portion of the poor
girl’s jewels were found on them, and they have con-
fessed the crime. They will be executed almost inime-
diately.”’

‘“Yhis is amazing—incredulous,’’ Nigel burst out.
‘‘There is trickery here; I cannot believe these men
are guilty.’’

‘*T won’t argue with you,’’ the Resident said, sharp-
ly. ‘‘It is useless, and my time is limited to a few mo-
ments. J[ trust you realize what a terrible scrape you
are in. Nepaul recognizes no authority from Great
Britain, and you bave broken a sacred law of the
country. The Prime Minister, who holds the balance
of power, is obdurate. Inside of twenty-four hours
you may be condemned without a hearing, and exe-
cuted.’’

“‘Ts it so bad as that?”’

‘Yes; I am speaking plainly. I will do what I ean
in your behalf, but I dare not hold out much hope. I
am to have an interview atthe palace to-night, and
I trust I shall be permitted to visit you in the morn-
ing. Until then you must remain in suspense. I am
deeply sorry for you, but you have only your own
rashness to blame.’’

Already the allotted time was up, as the guard sig-
nified by tapping Colonel Raincliffe on the shoulder.
With a few words of farewell and a clasp of the hand
ee the cell, and the heavy door was clanged and

olted,

The interview had only made Nigel the more de- |

spondent, and he began to pace restlessly to and fro.
If the Resident could not aid him his neat was eh
indeed.

‘‘There is little or no hope,’’ he decided; ‘‘but if I
must die I will believe to the last in Matadeen Mir’s
guilt. He has the fiendish cunning of the devil him-
self; every step he has taken shows that. Instead of
putting me out of the way secretly, he plays the part
of injured innocence and boldly lays the matter before
And now with the help of his confed-
erate, Pershad Singh, he has bribed these two poor
wretches to make a false confession; I suppose they
will either be given a chance to escape} or ig will be
untruthfully reported that they have been executed
Poor Muriel! 1 would be more resigred if I knew her
fate. And yet, strongly as I was convinced, I am be
ginning to waver a little in the face of this new fact
Can the Prime Minister possibly be innocent? é
the real criminals Ween found???

He did not know what to believe. Dazed and con-

fused, depressed by the thought of his impending fate,

=

Have

   

 

 

 
  

  
 

le sank down ou the straw paliet and buried his face
in his hands. _ :
At nine o’clock that same night four individuals
, were closeted in a sumptuously furnished room of the
- palace. One was Colonel Raincliffe, and his compan-
ions: were Peishad Singh, Matadeen Mir, and the
Maharajah. Ancient documents, and writing material
were strewn on the carved teak-wood table, under a
‘magnificent bronze lamp.
The interview had already lasted for an hour, and
so far with seemingly fruitless results. The Maharajah
had said little, and Matadeen Mir and Pershad Singh
had drily and courteously read certain parts from the
laws of the country, tending to show the enormity
and unpardunable nature of Lieutenant Davenant’s
a _ offence. They had listened with suave attention to
what the Resident had to say, shaking their heads
gravely from. time to time.
With a sinking heart Colonel Raiucliffe rose to make
a last appeal.
‘*¥You have the law on your side,’’ he said; ‘‘I do
_ not dispute that. I am merely a political agent in you
free kingdom-—-I have no right to demaud anything of
you; but as a favor, because of the friendly relatious
that have so long existed between Nepaul and Eng-
land, I appeal for mercy. I do not condone this young
officer’s offence, for it was a very serious one. But he
is hot-headed and rash, and he certainly did not rea-
lize what he was doing. So lask you to pardon him
—to put him into my hands—and will pledge my word
that he leaves the country within twenty-four hours.’
‘*Your excellency, you ask an impossibility,’ re-
plied Matadeen Mir. ‘‘I can overlook the insult to my-
self, deeply as it*-has wounded my heart, for I highly
esteemed the daughter of the English engineer; but
a =the laws most vital to the welfare of our kingdom
relate to foreigners, and one of these laws Lieutenant
Davenant has broken. To-morrow the Durbar will
try him, and the utmost hope I can hold out to you
is a sentence of imprisonment.’’
‘© 4 short one?’ the Resident asked.
: : ‘*Tt will be for life,’’ Pershad Singh answered,
harshly. Be
At that instant the heavy curtains at the doorway
were drawn aside, and the eager face of one of the
palace servants appeared.
‘‘A message for his Highness,’? he announced.
‘*Phe English prisoner has escaped from the fortress!’
‘*Thank Heaven!’’ Colonel Raincliffe said fervently
to himself.
Matadeen Mir’s face turned livid with rage as he met
Pershad Singh’s startled gaze.
- ‘*Hscaped!’ he cried. ‘‘If he be not retaken ere
morning, I will have some heads off!’’

 

 

CHAPTER XII.
BETWEEN TWO PERILS.

_ What things happened during the interval between

the Resident’s visit to the young officer and_ the start-
ling announcement made in the palace—how the pris-
oner succeeded in escaping from the szcurity of the
fortress dungeon—form a narrative that may be briefly
told...

When Nigel sat down on the mouldy bed nothing
was further from his thoughts than the possibility of
escape—he had previously tested the window bars and
found them immovable. So for a time he crouched
there gloomily, pondering the question of Matadeen
Mir’s guilt, and trying to resign himself to the almost
certain penalty of his rashness. Then, as he shifted

- his cramped limbs, he felt something hard under him,
Urged by curiosity, he tore away the straw, and on
the stone floor beneath he discovered a prize indeed—a
narrow bar of iron a foot long, with one end sharp-
ened:to a blunt point.

The value of the tool flashed instantly upon him.
The. bitterness of despair was forgotten, and a wild
hope thrilled him to the heart. With an exclamation

of delight aud gratitude he rose to his feet.

‘What a-stroke of fortune!’’ he reflected. ‘‘This was
_ left here by some prisoner before me. It was probably
- conveyed: to: him secretly by a visitor or by a friendly

guard, and with it he hoped to cut his way to freedom;

- but before he could make use of it he must have been
led out to die. Poor wretch! Heaven grant that I may

_ be more fortunate!’’ : 3

_ Nigel moved softly to the window, ‘The sun was be-

 

 

   
   
  

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. Loe 849

low the horizou, and the shadows of twilight were
gathering over the river’s blue tide. He examined the
four bars, and found that their lower ends were im-
bedded in a hard and very old composition of cement
and broken bits of granite. The window itself was of
narrow dimensions, but he was satisfied that he could
squeeze through if the obstructions were removed.”

‘*It is the only chance,’’ he muttered. ‘‘I would be
a fool to throw it away and trust to the Resident’s in-
fiuence, or to the mercy of the Durbar; and I am sure
I can do the work in a couple of hours. I am not like-
ly to be disturbed, for my supply of food and water is
evidently intended to last until to-morrow. I am a
good swimmer, and ought to have no. difficulty in
gaining the other side of the river, which will put me
within easy distance of the Residency. What to do
then, and how to get out of Nepaul, are questions
which 1 won’t worry about now. If my escape is not
discovered before morning—and I trust it won’t be—
that will give Colonel Raincliffe an opportunity of
helping me.’’

Before beginning his task, Nigel listened for a few
moments. All-was quiet within and without the fort-
ress, and he remembered that the ledge where sentries
occasionally paced was far above him.

With a cautious hand he attacked the first bar and
was relieved to find that the composition was decayed
and crumbly beneath the surface. With much less —
noise than he had expected—though enough to rouse
serious apprehensions—the steel tool bit into the ce-
ment aud stone.

But it was impossible to work with both speed and
silence, and he felt pretty confident that the lower
part of the fortress was deserted—that none were near
enough to hear, save perhaps a passing sentry up on
the ledge. That peril he must chance, so le went stead-
ily ahead, meanwhile keeping an eye on the darkening
surface of the river, and stopping briefly at intervals
to listen. From time to time he remioved the debris
with his hand, and piled it on the floor.

Nothing happened to alarm or interrupt him, and
in half an hour he had excavated a hole three inches
deep, reaching to'the eid of the bar and extending ©
partly round it. Now to test bis work! He took hold
with both hands, braced himself, and gave a powerful
jerk. With asharp snap, the bar came loose below,
and forcing it upward, he wrenched it from the socket
at the top.

So far he had been successful beyond his hopes.
There was one bar the less, and all was still quiet.
He refreshed himself with a drink of water—he was
satisfied now that it could not be poisoned—and then
he set to work again. The second bar was more diffi-
cult to remove, as was the third, but in less than two
hours they lay on the floor besids him. ‘The evening
was well advanced, and the risen moon was silvering
the waters of the Vishnumati.

‘*One more!?’? he muttered. ‘‘One more—and then
freedom !”’ A

He did not delay, tiredas he was. With fierce energy
he bent to the tool, grown a little reckless of the noise,
and disregarding the fragments of stone and cement
that rattled about his feet. The tide murmured and
hissed close by, and he hoped that was sufficient to
muffle his operations from any foes who might be
keeping vigil above. His muscles ached, his fingers
were bleeding, and perspiration trickled down his
cheeks. But he toiled on, plying the tool skilfully,
and deeper and deeper grew the cavity.

At last he stopped. He looked out into the night.
He crept to the door of the cell, and listened. Return-
ing to the window, he seized hold of the fourth and
last bar. Two vigorous pulls, and it was loose in his
grasp. :

There was nothing now to prevent him from leaving
the dungeon, and as he realized that the decisive mo-
ment had come—that the long task was ended he
trembled with joy and excitement. Then he turned,
anxious and apprehensive, dreading lest somethiny
should happen at the last to upset his plans. He imag-

ined he heard steps approaching, and he waited behind

the door with the steel tool in his hands till the alarm:
proved false. E

Reassured by the silence, he hurriedly devoured «+
few mouthfuls of food, and pulled off his boots, Thus
equipped for the venture, he went at the window witli
head and shoulders. It was a tight squeeze, but bi a
struggle he got safely through. He stood upright 61

‘the outer ledge, supporting himself with one band, Tha

  
ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

moonlit river was deserted, and he could see or hear
nothing above him. Inch by inch he crawled down the
wall, clinging to the crevices of the masonry with
toes and fingers. Now the river was at his feet; the
cool waters rose slowly until he was submerged to the
shoulders. Then he let go of the wall, and swam with
the current.

It was at first a delicious sensation to Nigel. The
lapping waters braced him, the motion was easy
and restful, and his spirits and confidence rose high
as he was borne swiftiy along on the bosom of the Vis-
numati. His clothing was light, and it required but
little exertion to keep his head above the surface.

For twenty yards or so he followed the base of the
fortress, and then turned sharply at its lower end.
Here a tower jutted a dozen feet out into the river,
forming an eddy of considerable extent below it;
Nigel was not yet disposed to venture out on the moon-
lit river, so he swam diagonally across the eddy. He
was deeply overshadowed by the bank, where appeared
no sign of life, and which was lined with half-ruined
temples, pagodas, and bathing-ghauts.

He kept on along the shore, leaving scarcely a ripple
behind him, until he was nearly five hundred yards
below the fortress. Then he touched bottom, and
waded to an old marble terrace, where he pulled him-
self out of the water, and sat down on the. grass-
grown steps. It was time for him to be starting across
the river, and he wanted to gain a little rest and
strength before commencing the struggle.

‘*That was a neat escape,’’ he reflected, ‘‘and I be-
lieve f am pretty well out of danger. And the best of
it is that | am likely to have a whole night’s start
before the search begins, Won’t there be a row in the
morning when the guards find my cell empty!”?

He glanced at the lonely ruins behind him, and then
at the great black bulk of the fortress. Not a light
twinkled from the loopholes or windows; there was no
sound of sentry’s voice or tread from the battlements.
_ ‘AML quiet!?? he muttered. ‘‘And now for the long
swim—I am quite far enough below to risk it. The
moonlight is on the river, but even if keen eyes are
watching, they will hardly be able to make out: my
head.

‘*Yet I don’t exactly fancy the prospect,’’ he added,
with sudden uneasiness. ‘‘The current is fearfully
swift, and the falls are less than half a mile distant.
By Jove, I wonder if there is any likelinood of finding
a boat concealed hereabouts.’’

He stopped with a gasp, and his heart seemed to
leap to his mouth. From the fortress rang a hoarse
shout, and then another and another, until the whole
place was in an uproar. Wafted on the still night air
came a clatter of arms and a scurry of feet. ~

‘*Good Heavens, my escape is discovered!’? thought
Nigel, with a feeling of bitter despair. ‘‘I can’t imag-
ins how; but-that makes no difference now. I must
eross the river and reach the Residency before the
scoundrels come there to search for me. I can do noth-
ing without Colonel Raincliffe’s help.”’

The alarm was swelling as the fugitive plunged into
the water and struck out lustily. Heswam hard and
fast, heading straight for the opposite shore. Slowly
he gained across, and rapidly, and the fierce current
swept him down stream; but to this peril he gave no
heed at present.

He battled on against the tide, and when he was

nearly half way to the other bank he looked over his
shoulder. He was satisfied that he had not been seen,
else rifle-balls would have pattered about him long
ere this. And now he was beyond range of the keenest
eyes. The fortress was nearly a quarter of a mile be-
hind him, and around its base torches were flashing
like fireflies. Over the water was borne a clamor of
shrill voices.

He turned his head and swam on. Several minutes
passed, and he knew that he was beyond mid-channel.
But the steep, moonlit bank opposite seemed to come
no nearer in spite of his muscular strokes, and yard
by yard the rushing current was bearing him toward
the falls of the Vishnumati. The deep and angry roar
filled his ears, drowning all other sounds.

He gained a few feet by a hard spurt, and that
cheered him a little. But now the severe strain was
telling on him. He felt weak and chilled; his breath

- came short and fast. Glancing down stream, he saw,
seemingly but a short distance away, the line of white
foam that marked the dreaded falls. And suddenly he
realized his danger and helplessness. :

‘*Heaven help me!’’ he panted. “T- can’t make it;

it’s no use to struggle! I shall soon be among the —

rocks, and they will batter the life out of me!??> -'”

Still swimming feebly against the current, he turned
his eyes from the foaming rapids and glanced up ‘the
river. In that direction also wasimminent danger. A
boat had put out from the fortress, and its black bul
was shown plainly on the water by the silver giow of

the moon, and by the ruddy blaze of torches ‘in ‘the ©

hands of the crew of Nepaulese soldiers. s

CHAPTER XIII.
A STRANGE AWAKENING. __

Between these two perils—the pursuing boat “above
and the rapids below—there seemed indeed no chance

of escape for Nigel. But, as sometimes happens, the

very hopelessness of it, the desperate odds arrayed
against him, served asa tonic to his jaded strength
and sinking spirits. They roused a fiercer desire to
outwit his enemies, and stirred within him that grim
doggedness which makes every Englishman fight to’the
last with the tenacity of a bulldog. ates 3
So he struggled on with fresh courage, and when he

had made a little further headway across the’ tide an‘

unexpected stroke of luck fellto him. He saw ‘and
gained the roughened crest of a great boulder that rose
a foot above the surface of the water, and clinging to
it with both arms he enjoyed a grateful rest after
his hard exertions. Beene aa
He was close to the falls, and a little closer to the
opposite shore. As for the boat he now saw that it
was not approaching him, but was moving slowly

across the river; the soldiers intended to land “and—

search for him, evidently suspecting that he had
reached the other side of the Vishnumati.”) 2°09)" —
‘‘J’lllead you a_ pretty chase, you scoundrels}?
Nigel muttered. ‘‘Luck is turning my ‘way again:
thank Heaven! This rest has made a new man of me,
and I’m going to have another try for ‘the shore. (I
hardly think I can make it, but even if 1 go over ‘the
rapids it’s not certain that I shall: be drowtiéd
smashed. I’m game to the end, anyhow !?? 1G aes
With that he let go of the rock, and after a glance
at the flashing lights above him he struck out ‘coolly
and sturdily. It was not a time to husband his
strength—a desperate spurt was all that could save
him. But the utmost that he could accomplish, as he
soon saw, was to strike the falls a few yards from the
shore. Nearer and nearer came the white line of foam,
and the roar thundered angrily in his ears; now the
rocky bank towered overhead, its base not’ twenty
feet distant. is HOB Ge
A few more strokes, and then Nigel ‘gasped for
breath as he felt a tremendous current sucking him
straight forward. An instant later he was in the hun-
gry maw of the rapids, dazed and helpless; Waves and
spray beat high over him; his head seemed to be split-
ting with the frightful noise; he saw huge greenish
rocks whiz by him, and they actually grazed his’ ‘sides
and shoulders. =i
The rest was like a dream. He was conscious of! be-
ing pitched this way and that like a football, of toss-
ing at the sport of furious waves. Yet through it’all
he clung to hope of life, and grimly held” his” breath.
Then came a sweet awakening. The roar faded’a little,
and the great billows subsided to choppy: waves.’ He
paddled feebly with arms and feet,» drew fresh’ air
into his Jungs and looked about him. “> © 060 G3 0
He was indeed safe, as he quickly’ discovered. By
Heaven’s mercy he had come through such perils as
most men must have succumbed to. The° falls were
above hiis—a slope of raging waves and spray! dotted
with black rock-points. All about him was deep, swirl-
ing water, with the shore less than six yards away.
‘*Thank God!’ he muttered. :
He was weak and dizzy, sore and: bruised, \ but > his
heart was full of gratitude for his miraculdusiesca pe:
The rapids barred the view up-stream, and he‘couki
see nothing of the boatload of soldiers. He swam
slowly across the current and gained the bank, only to
be confronted with a new. difficulty.
At this point a sheer cliff bordered the Vishnumati,

at the base of which the river ran ‘swiftly. There was —

no hold for hands or lodgment. for feet, so Nigel swam
alongside, hoping ere long to find a landing-place, Tt

gave him a thrill to remember that just hereabouts. —
in all probability, Muriel Brabazon’s ods Lo sale

 

 

Ae nel Oe Oot ag
   

 

 

    

=

flung over. And but a short distance from the summit
of the cliff was the Residency—the goal that he ur-
gently desired to reach before the pursuing soldiers
could come there to search for him.

. It was growing harder for him to keep nis head out
of water, yet still the slippery wall of rock towered
straight above him. Was he doomed to perish after
such a-hard fight? As the dread conviction chilled his
heart he was swept around a jutting angle, and close
ahead he saw a cheering sight—a patch of sandy,
jungle grown shore, and beyond it a deep fissue run-
ning back into the face of the cliff.

A few strokes more and Nigel’s feet touched bottom.
With a staggering gait he waded across the shallowing
little bay, aud as he stepped on dry land he discovered
a boat pulled partly up beside him. It coptaines a
heap of grass and a couple of paddles.

.* By Jove, what can this mean?’’ he mutter ed aloud.
‘(There are natives about, that’s certain, and { haven’t
got a single weapon.’

‘There was a snapping of twigs, a rustling glide, and
from the shadowy undergrowth appeared two partly-
naked Hindcos—two turbaned, dark-skinned men with
shaven faces. They were unarmed, as Nigel was quick
to observe. He snatched upone of the paddles and
stood at bay.

‘*P ll brain you if you come any nearer!’’ he threat-
ened hoarsely, feeling by instinct that they were ene-
mies,

~The Hindoos looked at him calmly.

‘tls this the sahib?’’ one asked of his companion.

‘Ves, it is Davenant Sahib,’’ the other replied; and
to Nigel his voice had a strangely familiar ring,
though he could not recall when or where he had
heard it before.

___ **Wao are you?’’ he demanded.
me???

‘¢We are not blind nor are we deaf,’’ the first Hin-
deo answered. ‘‘From the top of yonder cliff we heard
a tumult, and we saw torches flashing at the fortress.
We knew that the Feringhee prisoner had escaped, and
you are he, sahib.”’

. Nigel was perplexed and alarmed.

‘‘T won’t be taken alive,’’ he declared.
of the way and let me pass. ig

‘¢¥ou dare not venture near the Residency,’’ the
first speaker replied. ‘‘By this time the soldiers have
landed frem their boat, and ars on the plain above.
Moreover, you could not find the path to the top of
the cliff.’

+*And we came here to-night to seek you, Davenant
Sahib,’’ the other added. ‘*Put yourself in our hands,
and we will bear you to a place of safety.?’

‘*Fooels!?’ cried Nigel. ‘Do you think to deceive me
with such lies? Who sent you here to seek me, and to
what. place would you bear me? Back to the fortress,
of course.’?

‘*By. the hoary head of Mahadera, no!’’ interrupted
the Hindoo with the familiar voice. ‘‘We speak but
the truth. Trust to us, and all will be well.’

‘*Get quickly into the boat,’’ urged his companion.
“There is no time to ‘lese—the soldiers may discover
us here.”’

Angered and incredulous, Nigel madea_ stride for-
ward. , He believed that the palaver was but a trick to
throw him off his guard.

“Out of the way, you ruffians!’’ he cried, brandish-
ing the paddle,

look passed between the Hindoos, and that quick-
ly they hurled themselves upon the young officer be-
fore he could strike inore than one blow with his
weapon. in his weakened condition he was no match
fer his wiry assailants, and as he struggled feebly a
cloth saturated with some powerful and vile-smelling
drug-was pressed to his nostrils. He felt his senses
leaving HB: and then he knew no more.

‘*Hiow do you know

 

‘“<Stand out

As easy and naturally as a healthy infant Nigel sud-
denky awoke and opened his eyes. He was clear-headed,
ee by a eee slumber, and there was nota pain

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

 

ar

or ache in his limbs. He instantly remembered the
escape from the fortress, the struggle with the two
mysterious Hindoos, and the stupefying drug with
which they had overpowered him. But what had hap-
pened afterward? Where was he now, and for how
many bours had he slept?

As he looked about him his mind grew dazed, and
he was tempted to believe that he was not awake, but
dreaming. His bewilderment increased, mingled with
alarm, when he became convinced of the reality of his
surroundings. What did it ail mean? He was under a
greasy old military bell-tent, stretched out on a_ pal-
let of dried grass, and cover ed with a coarse blanket.
On the trampled floor were three more similar pallets
and some native articles of dress. The flaps of the tent
were partly open, and through the space he saw a
clearing bordered by rocks and jungle, and far beyond
that the towering bulk of a rocky mountain. Running
water made soft music in his ears and he knew by the
sunlight that the time was late in the afternoon.

As he gazed in surprise, vainly seeking a clew to
the mystery, he heard voices close by. Two shadows
darkened the entrance, and two figures stepped with
light tread into the tent. Both were seemingly Hin-
doos, and both wore turbans, vests, ind short trousers
of green and white calico. The elder was tall and leau,
with grey hair and a clean-shaven, much- wrinkled
face. A curyed sword and a dagger were at his waist.
His conipanion was years younger—a_ well built,
medium-sized man, with fine features, a smooth face,
and a mop of frizzled black hair on his head. From
his kummerbund peeped the hilt of a revolver.

For a moment the two gazed at Nigel in stolid sil-
ence, and though he was unable to identify them, he
was satisfied that they were the same who had attacked
him on the bank of the Vishnumati.

‘¢Has sahib rested well?’’ asked the elder man; and
again Nigel detected that strangely-familiar ring in his
voice.

‘*T should feel refreshed after so long a slumber,’’
he answered, graciously, as he rose to his feet; for
he was satisfied at least that he was in no danger of
being taken back to the fortress. ‘‘Who are you?’’ he
added. ‘Why have you brought me here?’’

The younger Hindoo stepped forward with a smile
that showed his white teeth.

‘*Tt is time for this farce to end, my dear fellow,
he exclaimed. ‘‘Here Il am in Nepaul, according to
promise.’’

‘““Good Heavens!’’ cried Nigel, recognizing tiie
voice, and yet struggling between doubt and convic-
tion. ‘*You are surely not Travers Hawksmoor?’’

“That was formerly my name, Davenant,’’ the
other replied. ‘‘I have a hew one now. So you were
deceived by my disguise?’

“Tt is perfect!’’ Nigel ereped excitedly. ‘*‘I can
hardly believe that it is really you. And so you have
dared to enter Nepaul at the risk of your life?’’

‘*Thus far I have fared better than you,’? Hawks-
moor interrupted, drily. ‘‘I am glad that Twas able
to help you out of a bad scrape. But sit down, and I
will explain it all.”’

‘Wait!’ Nigel said, hoarsely, and his face. grew
stern. ‘‘Betore I learn to what extent 1 am indebted
to you, I must ask you oue question.’’

“What is it???

‘*It concerns my murdered servant, Bhagwan Das.
Was it you who killed him, Hawksmoor???
With an amused laugh Travers Hawksmoor turned

and made a sign to his companion. At once the elder-
ly Hindoo rushed forward and knelt at Nigel’s feet.

“My master,’’ he cried, ‘‘pardon my unfaithfulness !
Be pleased to forgive thy servant for running away,
O Davenant Sahib!”’

The color fled from Nigel’s face, and he staggered
like a drunken man, He knew the voice now, and by
other signs he was convinced of the amazing truth,

‘‘Bhagwan Das!’’ he exclaimed, hoarsely, ‘*You
here and alive? AndI could have sworn you lay
buried in the Terai!’

{TO BE CONTINUED. |

   
 

  
   
      
   
 
   

(Copyrighted, American Publishers’ Association.)

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/ DEAN DUNHAM; a

OR, THE WATERFORD MYSTERY.

 

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By HORATIO ALGER, Jr., EX

38
Author of “The $500 Check,”’ ete. NS

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“DEAN DUNHAM” was commeneed in No. 10. Back numbers ean be obtained trom all newsdealers.)

CHAPTER XXVIII.

POR SH 17.0 UN. WY (OAS BEN: 2

  

fq JQ) by??? said the doctor composedly.
7 £2 Kirby quickly decided upon his course.
Be} . ‘‘Where am 1?’? he asked, passing his
hand over his face in a bewildered way.

‘*Where are you? Don’t you recognize
the room? A more pertinent query would
be, ‘What are you doing?’ ”’ :

“Good Heavens!’? ejaculated Kirby—‘‘I—I see it
now. That unfortunate habit of walking in my sleep!
What can you think of me?”? :

‘‘Do you generally carry skeleton keys about with
you when you walk in your sleep, Mr. Kirby?’’ asked
the doctor pointedly.

-‘]—] really don’t know how to explain,’’ stammered
Kirby. ‘‘These keys I found in my room on the morn-
ing after I was robbed. I took them with me. thinking
they might be of use if I should lose my regular keys.’

‘“Very ingeniously explained, upon my word!’’

“Tt isn’t possible, Dr. Thorp, that you really take
ire for a thief! I hope you have more confidence in
mie. ??

‘Well, it really did occur to me that you werea
professional burglar.- Your last words which I over:
heard before intruding upon you seem to bear out that
spposition.’? -

“What were they???

‘‘<Is there some secret drawer that I have over-
Jooked?? Perhaps you will do ine the favor to explain
them.’? ; :

‘| can?t. They were spoken unconsciously, I assure
you. Ehis habit of walking in my sleep has got me in-
to trouble several times before.’’

“Then take my advice and discontinue it.’’

“J will, Ishould have asked you to lock me in my
chninber if I could have foreseen what has happened.’?

*‘Mr. Kirby,’’ said Dr. Thorp, sternly, ‘‘you. must
think I am a simpleton to be taken in by such a trans-
parent falsehood. I was deceived in you, I admit, but
now I understand your real character. I won’t have
you arrested, though I ought, but I require you to
Jeave niy house at once.’’ :

‘<In the middle of the night?’’ said Kirby, in dis-
may.

“Yes. J cannot agree to shelter you even for the
balance of the night.’’

‘<Tell me one thing,’’ said Kirby, changing his tone;
‘(did any one put you on your guard against me?’?

cé Yes.’?

‘(14 was Dean Dunham.”’

‘:You can form your own conclusions.’

‘That is all you need tell me. [ understand it all. I
will go to my room and secure my luggage, and then
tid you good-by.”’ a

“<f will wait for you.”’ :

‘““F owe you another debt, Dean Dunham!’ said
Kirby, as he left the house with the pleasant prospect
cf a sleepless night.

   

Dean had left the breakfast-table the next morning,
and was considering what would be the next stage of
his journey when Dr. Thorp was anounced. noe

‘*Mir, Dunham,’’ he said, ‘‘I have come. to. thank
you for your warning of last evening. ”’ ee

‘‘T hope it was of service to you, sir.”’ Ae

‘*It was of essential service. Your old acquaintance
had planned to rob me of a sum of money and a quan-
tity of government bonds, but being-on.my guard I~
was able to frustrate his designs.’?

‘‘How did it happen?’’? asked Mr.
curiosity excited. ae reerea

‘‘In the middle of the night, or rather a little after
midnight, [I heard some one going downstairs softly.
I followed unobserved, and caught my guest opening
the drawers in my cabinet.’? : AR Saks es

‘«Where is he now?’’

‘*T ordered him out of the house. He stood not upon
the order of his going, but went at once... Where he is
now I cannot inform you, but presume he has placed
several miles between himself and Carterville. For-.
tunately he went empty handed, and my money and
bonds are still in my possession. But for our. young:
friend here I should hardly be able to say that.’?«.

‘‘You are indebted to me for bringing him to: Car-
terville, Dr. Thorp,’’ said Mr. Gunnison in ‘asjocular
tone. ‘*How much are you going to-allow me??? —

‘*You are amply repaid by his services,’’. said the
doctor, ‘‘judging from the comments: —f have heard
upon his performance. I am under obligations to him,:
however, which I ought to acknowledge. Mr... Dun-
ham,’’ he continued, taking from his:pocket a. small
gold watch and chain, ‘‘I see you ‘lave’ no.’ wateh.
Please accept this with my best wishes. =. a.%

It was an Elgin gold watch of neat pattern which
he offered to Dean. Ore ete ee seer

“Tt is not quite new,’’ proceeded ‘the ‘doctor, *'T
bought it of a young man in need of money, and hav=
ing paid him its full value I have no seruple in givilig’
it away.’ LONG ae

“(Thank you very much,’’ said Dean, his*facée show+
ing the satisfaction he felt. ‘‘I have felt the néed of a
watch ever since I began to travel, but néver' dreamed
of anything better than a silver one.» I shall’ be very
proud of this one.’’ es

‘*And Il am very glad to give it to
direction do you propose to journey??? ee

‘“‘Westward, sir. I haven’t any yery clear idéas
further than that.”’ ees at A

‘*Shall you go as far as Colorado?’” ©

‘* Yes, sir; I think so.’’ BS ES

‘“‘T have a nephew out there somewhere—Henhry
Thorp—a young man of twenty-five. He is probably
mining, but [ don’t know his location, Should you run
across him, ask him to communicate with. me. His
aunt and myself will be glad to hear from him.

‘*T will not forget it, sir,’? said Dean, though he
thought it quite improbable that he,and the ne
referred to would ever meet. pon eos 2

Dr. Thorp took his leave, and Dean soon after ¢

Gunnison, his

  

you

 

oo

 

 

   

 

  
    
  
     

ook
leave of the Gunnison family. He was pressed to re-

 

  
 

 

 

 

 

 
  
 

 

 
 

    
 

main and play another game of baseball, but felt that
he could not spare the time.

A week later found Dean only a hundred miles
further on his way. He might have accomplished this
distance on the cars in a few hours, but he preferred
to make a leisurely trip, looking out for a chance to
earn money on the way. But after a_ season of pros-
perity a dull time had come to him. During the week
he did not niake a single dollar. He encountered sev-

eval fair sized towns, but did not feel. able to give an

entire entertainment hiniself. His stock of
dwindled, and he began to feel anxious.

Toward nightfall ‘he found himself apparently ata
distance from any town, and began to feel some so-
licitude as to where he could pass the night. It wasa

‘mountain region, and the day seemed to be shorter
than on the plains. The air was chilly, and Dean felt
that it would be dangerous to spend the night out of
doors.

In this emergency he was pleased to desery a rough
‘eabin a hundred feet from the road.

-**There is shelter at any rate if they will take me
in, thought Dean. ‘*‘I will take care not to wander
‘into such a wild re ei0n again.’

He went up to the door, and knocked ah his bare
knuckles.

He heard a shuffling noise inside, and an old woman,
with gray hair, unconfined and hanging loose likea
‘horse’s mane, faced him.

“Who are you??? she inquired abruptly.

‘(A traveler,’’ answered Dean.

‘“*What do you want?”’

‘‘T have lost'my way.
night?’

‘“ This isn’t a tavern,’’ she respouded in a surly tone.

**T suppose not, ‘but Tam willing ts pay for supper
and a lodging. ‘T don’t see _ any other house near by,
or I would not trouble you.

The old woman eyed a with a curious scrutiny
which made hin vaguely uncomfortable, so weird aud
uneanny was ber look.

‘(Have you got any money?’’ she asked at last.

a little, a ans vered Dean, growing suddenly cau-
tious.

‘Well, you can come in,’’ she said after a pause.

Dean entered, and cast a glance about hin.

The cabin-was certainly a primitive one. What fur-
niture it contained seemed home made, put together
awkwardly with such material as came to hand. In
place of chairs were two boxes such as are used to con-
tain shoes, placed bottom up. There was a small stove,
the heat of which seemed grateful to the chilly young
traveler.

felt asecotdy?? "remarked Dean, by way of opening the
conversation, -

‘“Humph! ps afiswered the woman.
all the way to tell me that?”’

ot Hvidently me old woman isn’t sociable,’’ thought
Dean.

‘“Where. do you. live when you’re to home?’’ asked the
woman, after:a pause.

“Tn New York State.”

“What did you-coime out. here for?’?’

“T had my living to make,’’ answered Dean, feeling
gi coucerable.

‘(T havent found any, and I’ve lived here goin’ on
ten years. 1 suppose you want some supper,’’ she
continued, ungrac¢iously.

rey 66, Tam very hungry.
any. trouble, eh

The woman - did not answer, but going to a rude
pantry took out a plate of meat, and some dry_ bread.
‘The former she put in the oven, ‘and proceeded to brew
some tea.

-Dean watched her preparations with eager interest.
It seemed to him that he had never been so hungry.
He had probably walked ten miles over a rough path,
and the exercise had tired him as much as twice the
distance on the plain. Besides he had his valise with
_him, and had found it decidedly an incumbrance.
ae ‘From time to time the old woman paused in her
_preparations and eyed him searchingly. What it was
that attracted her attention Dean could not guess till
_ she suddenly pointed to his chain, and asked, ‘‘Is there
a watch at the end of that?’’

ee NOs.) F answered Dean with
ae hension. ete
“Tet me look at it.’?

luctantly he drew out the watch, and

money

Can you let me stay here all

‘*Have you cone

Iam sorry to put you to

a sudden feeling of

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

into the

    

  

as she advanced

womanh’s eyes crept a covetous Bene
and took it in ber hand.

‘‘Tt’s pretty,’’ she said. ‘‘What’s

‘<T don’t know,’’ answered Dean.
It was a present to me.’’

“It ought to be worth a good sum.’’

“*T value it because it was given me by a friend,’’
said Dean hurriedly.

‘‘We’ve got nothing to tell time by,’’ said the wom-
an slowly, “still eyeing the watch with a fixed look,
‘‘except the sun,”’

Dean did not reply.

‘*How do you wind it up?’’ asked the woman, after
a pause. ‘‘Do you have a key! ee

‘*No it’s a stem-winder.

‘What’s that???

‘*T will show you,’’ and Dean wound the
fur as it would go.

‘] ever saw the like of that,’’ said his hostess with
a look of mingled curiosity and. surprise.

She released her hold upon the watch, and Dean put
it back in his pocket, rather relieved to have recoy-
ered possession of it again.

Five minutes later the meal was ready,
was.

‘Set up,’’ said the woman.

Dean obeyed with alacrity.

He tasted the meat. It was not unpleasant,
taste was peculiar.

‘*What kind of meat is it?’’ he asked.

‘<Bvar peat. 2

‘Are there bears in these nountains’?’

‘*Yes; my son killed this one. He’s killed many a
b’ar, Dan has. He’sa master hand with the rifle.
There’s none that can beat him.’’

‘*Isn’t it dangerous to tackle a bear?’’

“No; the b’ar’s a nat’rally timorous animal,
killed t0ore’n one myself.’’

As Dean surveyed his hostess, he thought her quite
capable of en< countering a bear. Her walk and air were
masculine, aud there seemed nothing Se ee about
her

it worth???
‘*T-didn’t buy it.

watch as

such as it

but the

I’ve

CHAPTER XXVIII.
DAN.

Dean did not allow his speculations as to his hostess
to interfere with his appetite, but he ate with an en-
joyment, which he had seldom before felt, the food set
before him.

‘* ?Pears to me you’ve got a right smart appetite,’’
said the woman.

‘*Yes, I have,’’ said Dean,
when I have been so hungry.
appetite, but I can’t help it.”’

“Young folks is mostly hungry,’’ said the woman.

‘*Hispecially when they have such nice things set be-
fore then).’’

The woman, rough as she was, seemed pleased by
this tribute to her culinary skill.

‘*Well, you needn’t be afraid to eat all you want
to,’’ she said encouragingly.

Dean took her at her word, and when he rose from
the table, he had made way with a large share of the
repast provided.

It had grown quite dark in the deepening shadows
of the hills, but it was a twilight darkness, not the
darkness of midnight.

‘¢] think I will go out and take a walk,’’ said Dean,
turning to his hostess.

‘*You’ll come back ?’’ she asked with apparent anxiety.

‘*Yes, for I don’t want to sleep out of doors. I can
settle for my supper now if you wish.’’

‘No, you can wait till morning.”’

‘Very well!’

Dean left the house, and walked some distance over
the mountain road. Finally, being a little fatigued
from his day’s travel and the hearty supper he had
eaten, he lay down under a tree, and enjoyed the lux-
ury of rest on a full stomach.

In the stillness of the woods it was possible to hear
even a sound ordinarily indistinct. Gradually Dean
became sensible of a peculiar noise which seemei like
the distant murmur of voices. He looked about him in
all directions, but failed to understand from what the
voices proceeded, It seemed almest as if the sounds
came from below. Yet this seemed absurd.

‘(There can’t be any mine about here,’’ reflected

‘fT don’t know
ashamed of my

frankly.
I am

 
854 £RMY AND

Dean. ‘If there were, { could understand a little bet-
ter about the sounds.’
Certainly it was not a very likely place for a mine.
‘‘Y wonder if Iam dreaming,’’ thought Dan.

He rubbed his eyes, and satisfied himself fhat he was ~

as much awake as he ever was in his life.

Hé got up and walked around, looking inquisitively
about him, in the hope of localizing the sound. Sud-
denly it stopped, and all was complete silence. Then
he was quite at a loss.

**T don’t know what it means. 1 may as well lie
down and rest again. ITimagine my landlady won’t
care about seeing me before it is time to go to bed.’’

With this thought Dan dismissed his conjectures,
and gave himself up to a pleasant reverie. He didn’t
worry, though his prospects were not of the best, He
was nearly out of money, and there appeared no in-
mediate prospect of earning more. Where he was he
did not know, except that he was somewhere among
the mountains of Colorado.

‘*T wish I could come across some mining settle-
ment,’? thought Dean. ‘‘I couldn’t buy a claim, but
I could perhaps hire out to some miner, and after a
while get rich enough to own one myself.’’

Suddenly his reflections were broken in upon by a
discordant voice.

‘*Who are you, youngster,
froin?’

Looking up quickly, Dean’s glance fell upon a
rough-looking man, in hunting costume considerably
the worse for wear, with a slouched hat on his head,
and a rifle in his hand. The man’s face was far from
prepossessing, and his manner did not strike Dean as
fr jendly.

‘*My name is Dean Dunham,’ he said in
the first question, then paused.

‘How came you here?”?

‘*T am traveling.’

‘*Where from?’’

‘*New York State.’’

‘*What brings a boy like you so far from home? Is
there anyone with you?’’ demanded the man _ suspici-
ously.

“No; I wish there was. I had a companion, but he
got a call to go home on account of his ee ’s sick-
ness.

**And you pushed on?”’

‘tVos,’*

‘What are you after—it isn’t game, for
no gun. a.

ave yn after a chance to make a living, as much
as any thing.’

‘*Couldn’t you make a living at bome?’’

‘*Not one that satisfied me.’?

“Can you do any better here???

‘*T can’t tell yet,’’ answered Dean, while an ex-
pression of genuine perplexity overspr ead his face, It
was a question which he had often asked himself. ‘‘1
think if I could come across some mining settlement I
could work for myself or somebody else.’’

‘* Are you goin’ to stay out all night?
many hotels round here. ?

‘‘T have had supper, and am going to spend the night
at a cabin about a mile from here.”?

‘¢You are!’’ exclaimed the hunter ina tone of pro-
found astonishment. ‘‘How did you get in?’’

‘*Y asked a woman who lives there if she would let
ms stop ever night, and she was kind enough to say
yes.’

eet you have had your supper?’

and where did you drop

answer to

you've got

There ain’t

- **And are you goin’ to sleep in the cabin?’

**Yes. Do you live anywhere near it?’’

‘‘Well, I should smile! Youngster, that’s where I
live, and tha woman who gave you your supper is my
mother.’?’

‘*Then you are Dan,’’ said Dean, eagerly.

‘How did you know my name? 4

‘*Your mother told me you killed
meat { ate for supper.”’

‘*That’s correct, youngster. I killed hin, but it’s
nothing to killa bar. I’ve killed hundreds of 'em.’?

**Y should be proud if I could say I had killed one,’’
said Dean, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

‘Tf you ‘stay round here long enough, you “may have
a chance, But I’m goin’ home. It’s growin’ dark and
you may as well go with me.’’

Dean rose from his recumbent position, and drew his
watch from his vere

the .bear whose

NAVY WHEKLY.

**Ves,’? he said, ‘it’s past sight o’clock,’

‘‘Tet me look at that watch. Is it. wold”? asked his ,
companion, and his eyes showed the same covetous *
gleam which Dean had noticed in the mother, —

‘tT wish I had hidden the watch in an inside pocket,’’
he thought, too late. ‘‘Iam afraid it will be taken
from me before I get away from these mountains.’

‘‘What might it be worth???’ demanded the other,
after fingering it curiously with his clumsy hands.

‘*T don’t know,’ answered Dean, guardedly. ‘*f ai
not buy it. It was given tome.’’ e«

‘‘Ts it worth a hundred dollars?”’ ae

‘*T don’t think it is. It may be worth fifty.’

‘*Humph! are you rich?’’ eS

“No; far from it! Tama poor boy.’’

“That doesn’t look like it.?

‘(The watch was given to me by a rich man to whont
I had done a service.’’

The man handed it back, but it Hees:
ance.

‘*Youngster,
asked, abruptly.

‘She treated me kindly,’’ answered Dean, ae
embarrassed.

ee you agree to pay her for your lodging?’’ —

es.
**1 thought so.

with reluet-

what do you think of my mother? 17? he

Mother ain’t one ofthe soft kind.

Did she strike you as an agreeable old lady?’’ U
said Dean,

‘*T only saw her for a few
evasively.

His companion laughed,
cally.

‘You must stretch your legs,
mother’ll get tired waiting for me.
notion not to give me any supper.”’

It was not long before they came in sight. of ithe
cabin. Here a surprise, and by no nieans an agresabie
one, awaited Dean. Ona hench in front of the cabin
sat a man whom he had good reason to hers sina cand
equal reason to fear—Peter Kir by,

minutes, ’’
and surveyed Dean quizzi-

youngster, or
She might take a

CHAPTER XXIX.
“SHOULD OLD ACQUAINTANCE BE FORGOT?’

If Dean was surprised to see his old enemy in such
an out-of-the-way place, Kirby was no less surprised
to see his former traveling companion, There was this
difference: The encounter brought him pleasure, while
to Dean it carried dismay. Neither could understand
where on earth the other had sprung from. ~ :

‘*Oho!’? laughed Kirby, ‘so we meet again.’

—~Dan looked surprised, thinking the words were ad-
dressed to him, bat following the direction of arises s
eyes, he saw that he was mistaken. >

‘*Do you know this boy?’’ he asked.

‘Do I know him? Why, we star ted oF the Bast
together.’’

‘‘How is that?’ :

“Tt was at the request of a friend of ours.”?

‘The captain?’’

‘¢V es. 2?

‘*And why did you separate?”’

‘Well, I mustn’t tell tales out of setaiat:
glad to meet you again, youngster.
mutual?”’

‘*No, it isn’t,’’ said Dean, bluntly. By octet

‘So IT should judge, after the trick- Baa played tipon
me at our last meeting.’’ )

‘*What do you refer to?’’ Ch S At6

‘*You know well enough. You bautiened Dr. Thorp
against me. Don’t deny it, for I know it is true.’?

‘*¥ don’t deny it. What happened that night showed
that I had good reason. ?’

‘*Be that as it may,’’ said Kirby with an ugly
scowl, ‘‘you did a bad thing for yourself. You prob- —
ably thought you would never meet me again,’”’

Dean was silent, but Dan, whose curiosity was
aroused, interposed with an inquiry.

‘““What are you two talkin’ about, Md “Is
this boy a friend or an enemy???

‘‘He is an enemy of our association,’ replied Kirby.
“Tam glad to have him in my pow er.?? :
~**So there is an association?’’ thought Dean. ‘‘These
two men belong to it, and Squire Bates is the cap

tain. I shall soon know all about it.’”

But in the meanwhile the evident hostility of Kir-
by, reflected in the face of his new acquaintance Dan,
was ominous of danger. Dean felt that he would

| am: very
a “the pleasure

he said.

a.

 
      

: ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. 855

gladly pass the night out in the woods exposed to the
night air if he coulda only get away. But he saw clear-
ly that escape was nod at piesent practicable.

‘tHave you seen the old woman?’’ asked Dan, mean:
ing: his mother.

“Yes, she told me that she had taken in a_ kid for
the. night, but. I had no idea it jvas any one I knew.
The old. lady wears well, Dan.’

i ““Yes, she’s tough,”’ said the affectionate son, care-
lessly. Dy goin and see whether she’s got supper
ready.??

_ He entered the house, leaving Dean and his old. em-
ployer together.

““Come here, boy, and sit down,’’ said Kirby, smil-
ing, and eyeing Dean very much as a cat eyes the
mouse whom she proposes soon to devour. ‘¢You must
be tired.’’

‘Phank. you,;’? said Dean calmly, as he went for-
ward aad seated himself on the settee beside Peter
Kirb

CWhat brought you so far West as Coiorado?’’ Bro:
ceeded Kirby, giving vent to his curiosity.

‘‘T kept coming West. Besides 1 heard there were
mines in Colorado, and I thought I might find profit-
able work.?’

(So you ene up playing on that harmonica of
| your ee

ecYes.’

sean you make it pay?”?

-**] needed a partner like the one I started with—Mr.
Montgomery. I couldn’t give an entertainment
alone.’?

‘(Then you haven’t been making any money late-

9)

No”

“Where did you get that watch?’
Byrom Dru Therp.’

When did:he give it to you?’?

‘‘Just before I left town.’’

‘(lt was a present to you for informing on me, I
suppose?’’ said Kirby, his face again assuming an ugly
frown.

‘*T believe it
robbed.’?
“Then he nan considerable money and bonds in the
house?’?.

_ thes. 233
ot Were they in the cabinet???’

. §“He removed them,.’?

‘*After 1 went :to bed?’’

‘‘T believe. so.?”

‘“Itseems then that I am tndebted to you for foiling
my little scheme,

Kirby looked dangerous, and Dean was alive to the
peril incurred, but he was obliged in the interests of
truth to answer in the affirmative.

Here Dan appeared at the door.

““Come in, Kirby,’’ he said. ‘‘Supper’s ready.’’

“‘Y am ready for it. I am about famished. Come in,
boy.’’

“‘Thank you; ¢ have supped already.’’

‘CAll the same you must come in, for I don’t propose
to lose sight of.you. Hand over that watch, please.’’
. {4Why.do you want it?’’ asked Dean, apprehensively.

‘‘I have more claim to it than you. It was the price
of treachery.’’.

ST hope, Mr. Kirby, you will let me keep it.’’

‘*Hand it over without any more words!’’ said Kir-
by, ee. Teles you want me to take it from
you. : er

 

eee

was for saving him from _ being

 

       

It would have been idle to resist, but Dean was not
willing to hand it over, since that would have indi-
cated his consent to the surrender.

‘*Vou can take it if you chdose,’’ he said.

**Tt will do after supper. Come in!”

Dean preceded Kirby into the cabin, and sat down
on a stool while the two men were eating. Gradually
they dropped into conversation, and Dean listened with
curious interest.

‘So you saw the captain, Kirby?’’ asked Dan.

‘tVeas.??

“ Where??? < i

‘‘He lives in an obseure country place, buried alive,
as I callit. It is for the sake of his family, he says.”’

‘*What family has he?’’

‘CA wife and son—the last as like his father as two
peas—the same ugly tusks, and long, oval face. Be-
tween the two I prefer the captain. The boy puts on
no end of airs.’’

‘*Does he know——”’

‘‘Not a word. He thinks his father a gentleman of
wealth and high bith, and holds his head high, I ean
tell you.’’

“Does that boy know him?’’ asked Dan,
jerk of the head toward Dean.

‘¢You know Brandon Bates, don’t you, Dean?’’ said
Kirby.

S¢Y¥-es, Sir. *?

‘¢Do you like him??’’

*¢T don’t think any one in the village likes him.”’

‘(How about his father? Is he popular?’’

‘¢He is bétter liked than his son,’’

“‘The fact is,’’ resumed Kirby, ‘‘the captain’s boy
is an impudent cub. He was insolent tome. J eould
have tweaked his nose with pleasure.’’

‘‘There seems to-be one point on which Mr. Kirby
and I agree,’’ thought Dean. But upon the whole it
did not seem to him that he liked Kirby any better
than Brandon Bates. Brandon had unpleasant man-
ners, but it was clear that Kirby was a_ professional
thief.

‘‘When is the captain coming West?’’ asked Dan.

‘*Soon, | think. He may he needed for some work
in Denver. I shall make a report to him when I have
gathered the information we need, and urge him to
come. He has brains, the captain has, and he must
give us the advantage of them.”’

“What plan are you thinkin’ of, Kirby?’’

‘‘Hush!’? said Kirby, glancing toward Dean. ‘‘I
wil] speak with you about that later.’’

After supper they went out again and sat on the
settee, both smoking pipes provided by Dan. Dean
was invited to come out also, but he felt very much
fatigued, and asked if he might go to bed.

‘*Mother,’’ said Dan, ‘‘can the kid go up to bed?”’

‘¥es, if ‘he wants to.”

“T’ll go up with him.”’

Dan led the way up a narrow staircase to the second
floor. There were two rooms, each with a sloping roof.

with a

On the floor was spread a sacking filled with hay,
one end raised above the general level.
‘You can. sleep there, youngster,’’? said Dan.

‘“Phere’s no use in undressin’. Lie down as
are.’’

Dean was quiteweady todo so. Though he was ap-
prehensive about the future, fatigue asserted its claim,

and in less than five minutes he was sound asleep.

you

[FO BE CONTINUED.]
THE OCEAN STOWAWAY.

Some persous, who think they know, would have us
believe that the sea no louger has a charm for boys.
They say that the mystery and fascination of the rest-
less waste of waters have
been banished from young
minds by the use of steam
as a motive power. It was
delightful, years ago, when
the only meats of reaching
foreign countries, or of hearing from them, was
through the uncertain medium of sail communication.

We adinit-this, but in a great seaport like New
York, if not elsewhere, when a lad finds himself with-
out home or friends, and in need of doing something
to keep himself alive, it is ten to one that his first
thought is of getting on board a ship.

He goes (own to the docks, aud saunters wistfully
along the quays; and his hungry lips ‘‘water’? when,
perhaps, he comes to a passenger ship which is being
victualled for the voyage

Then he strolls down to the shipping office, where
the crews sign articles and are paid off; and after a
good deal of hesitation he niusters up courage to ask
the purser, the shipping clerk, or the chief mate, if he
wants a boy, and is refused, of course.

What can he do, then? Perhaps he makes another
attenipt to find employment in the city; but cities are
crowded with boys who will work from eight in the
morning until six at night for a few dollars a week.
Then if he fails, as he is likely to fail, he returns to
the wharf at dusk, or after dark, and, watching his
opportunity, creeps across the gangway, and hides
himself in the hold or the forecastle of some vessel that
he knows is going to sea on the next tide.

It is a crime to be a stowaway, and should the cap-
tain think it worth his while, he might carry the
offender back to the port from which he started and
deliver him to the police, meanwhile keeping him in
irons and feeding him on bread and water. But the
captain usually looks upon the stowaway as an object
quite unworthy of powder and shot, and, after scowl-
ing at him, and lecturing him on the quarter-deck,
tolerates him until the nearest port is reached when
he sends him ashore.

The sort of treatment a stowaway gets depends al-
together on the temper of the captain. A humane man
would not be likely to send a boy to work in the fire-
room of a steamer, but this is sometimes done when
the age and strength of the stowaway are equal to it,
and it is the almost invariable fate if the stowaway is
a grown man.

The fire-room is in the bottom of the ship; it is lke
a miue, just as dark, just as foul, just as oppressive.

Everything is black and greasy and sickening. There
is no light, except the yellowish swinging lamps and
the flash of the fires as the furnace doors are opened
and new fuel is added to them. Little wonder that in
despair the stowaway wishes the bottom of the ship
would fall out and relieve him of his misery.

Some years ago a Steamer of the Leyland Line left
Liverpool for the Mediterranean; and the gale which
was blowing when she started increased to such a de-

Some of the Miseries

To be Endured.

eree tfat when she was off Holyhead on the Welsh
coast sbe foundered. The crew had lowered the boats.
and taken their places in them, and at the last mo-—
ment, when the captain was about to leave the sinking
ship, which was tossing helplessly in the trough of the:
sea, with her fires extinguished and her rudder dis-
abled, a boy who had been stowed away made his ap-
pearance on deck. os :

He had heard the noises of the storm, Lut had not
realized thé desperate plight of the ship until the sound —
of the waters pouring into her drove him out of his”
place of concealment, The boats pulled off to ‘avoid
being sucked under, and the stowaway and the captain
stood alone on the deck. ss

‘*Here, take this,’? said the captain, calmly, and
he handed to the stowaway a life-preserver which ‘had
b en around his own hody. He was not seen again, but
the stowaway was picked up by one of the boats after
the steamer had disappeared.

There are captains who invariably tr eat their crews
brutally, chance of mer
oe one of these tyrants,

‘After they had found me,’? said . stowaway, tes- e
tifying in a San Francisco court concerning ‘the Ale:
usage he had received, “the captain. asked. me if t
had ever been fo sea a and when [ told him that —
I had made oue voyage as cabin-bay, he onders. 6
to go aloft and send the foretopsail lift down :

‘‘T was drawing it down to the deck, when a toulen
with the leach-lines, and as I was cae ing it over to—
the starboard side to clear it, I had to drop it; my.
arm was tired, and I could not hold it,

‘fhe captain cried out, ‘Come down here, you ¥Gb-
ber!’ and as soon as _I reached the deck he knocked .
me down. ‘What did you let go of that line for?? Z

‘*T said that I could not help it; and ‘then: he
knocked me down again. My face was covered with
blood, and I eried out, ‘We’! see about this when we ~
reach San Francisco!’ 2s ae

‘‘He then told the niate to put me in irous, and trice ~
me up, and [ was triced up from nine vo "elock in the —
morning until three o’clock in the afternoon.

To be ‘‘triced up’’ is to be suspended by. the Ww oiste
from a beam so that the toes just touch the deck, and ,

bear with the arnis all the weight of the body.
‘After this,’’ the witness continued, “they gave nie
some bread aud water, and I was once more put in -
irons and shoved into the lazaret. I was kept there for. ane
three days, and I was taken out only to he triced. up
again. :

‘** You will see about it when you Set to ae Fr an-
cisco, will you?? said the eaptain, repeating _ my
words. ‘Well, when you get to San Fraucisco, you
won't be able to see to much of anything,’ he a:ided.’?

The stowaway lived to tell of his ill-treatment, how-
ever, and it isa pleasure to know that the captain,
who had beaten and star ved several of his crew also,
was convicted and sent to jail.

But though we are not able to withhold pity from. SO —
ill-used a boy, we must remember that it is a dishon-_
orable thing to be a stowaw ay, and that it is scarcely _
excusable even in the case of a boy like the ‘one men-
tioned at the beginning of this article, who is driven
to it by destitution. Should a boy who has. a home
and friends attempt it, he would surely have « occasion
to repent it. For him there are training - -ships - and
other ways of becoming a sailor.

and a stowaway has little

 
   

 

  
  
 
  
  
 
  
 
  
  
   
 

  
   
  
   
   
    
 

     
   
  
   
   
 
  

: witnesses.

_ COURTMARTIALING AN ELEPHANT.

ti India, Hie phatlic are used for many purposes, but
principally for carrying heavy loads from one part of
the country to another. The Indian government ein-
ploy a number of them, especially for their artillery.

These elephants are very particular about their
rights. For instance, when formed up on parade, the
elephant who has served longest takes the rignt of the
rank, the others forming up in succession according to
their. seniority, just like soldiers. Sometimes either by
accident or design, an elephant will take up a position
to which he has no claim, when there is at oncea
great commotion, his comrades insisting upon his re-

“tiring to his proper place.

With such intelligent animals, it is, therefore, little
to be wondered at that punishments for grave offences
are generally preceded by a court-martial in precisely
the same. manier as with soldiers.

One such scene of trial and punishment of an ele-
phant guilty of murder is thus described by an eye
giness, a military officer: ‘*The prisoner, with eyes
Hed w ith tears, was warched in front of us, between
two other elephants. Along with them came all the
The presid ent, Major OC——, read the
charge: ‘Elephant Abdul is charged with causing the
death of Syce Ramboucles by catchnug him by the legs
in his trunk aud beating his brains out against the
wall of the grain hut.’

«The first witness called deposed that he was in the
lives at twelve o’clock seeing the ele; bants fed. When
the trumpeter sounded ‘feed,’ he saw Syce Ramboucles
run with a, bag,of grain tow ard Hlephant Abdul. At
this time all the other eleph .its were fed. consequently
Syee Ramboucles was late in feeding Elephant

Abdul, The witness ordered tie Syce to hurry, but
the latter did not seem to move any quicker. As soon
as he approached, Elephant Abdul seized him by the
legs and dashed his head against the little grain hut.
EH ight Syces gave similar statements.

‘(When they had finished, the president, who had
kept his head down the whe ‘le time with the elephant’s
defaulter sheet in front of him, suddenly JIeoked up
and glared at the prisoner. Seeing the elephaut’s eyes
swimming in tears, he said: ‘It’s no use; that game
won’t do me. I am quite accustomed to see tears, and
never take any notice of them. 1 see by this defaulter-
book that you have been guilty of no fewer than six-
teen crimes of injuring people, and I have not the
slightest conipassion for you.’ The members of the
court-martial all agreed with him, and after a short
adjournment found Abdul guilty, and sentenced him
to fifty” lashes and two years’ imprisonment.’

A few days later the first part of the sentence was
carried out.

The whole battery was drawn up ina square, four-
teen elephants forming one side and the “non-com-
niissioned officers and men the other three sides. In
the centre were two huge elephants, the prisoner
Abdul, and the senior elephant, to whom the task of
inflicting punishment always falls. Beside these two
elephants, all the officers of the battery the provosts,
the brigade major and the doctor, were in. the centre,
and elephants Nos. '2 and 3 stood on either flank in
ease the prisoner might try to escape. Four great iron
pegs were driven into the ground, to each of which
one of the prisoner’s legs was chained. The senior ele-
phant, Lalla No. 1) stood by with a huge cable chain
fastened around her trunk, waiting further orders

When all was pr onounced ready, the doctor, who
ith a watch in his hand, gave the signal to be-
gin. Talla ‘raise gave it two
turns and “down came the dable with terrific force
Abdul's back. -A loud thud.was heard, followed
unearthly roar from the unfortunate Abdul.

Again the doctor gave the signal, and down came
the cable with terri: causing more roaring.

d until the full number

the prisoner was
back to his. ‘quarters, trembling from head to

nd having a few Jumps on his back as the result
was then dismissed aud

 

 

    

stood :

 

 

 

on
by a

     
  

Game down
i which

 

 

ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY.

depths.

857.

 

 

DEEP SEA DIVERS.

There is a class of men ee are never seen at work,
and yet whose labor is of a very hard and dangerous
character. They are the divers who go down into the
water to build the foundations of piers and bridges, or
to explore and raise sunken vessels. In books of fiction
and of travel there are often to be found accounts of
the feats that can be accomplished by the pearl and
sponge divers of the Kast.

They can not only dive toa great depth, but they
ean remain under water two minutes or more, and this
without any appliance which couldsupply them with air.

Science has, however, provided means by which men
may remain below the surface of the water for hours
without harm. As far back as 15388, two Greeks ex-
hibited at Toledo, Spain, a clumsy sort of diving-bell.
Various improvements were nade on it, and in 1788
Smeaton constructed the form of diving-bell now in
use by engineers. For dee}:-sea work, however, the
bell has been superseded by the diving-dress,

The principle on which the diving-bell is constructed
is simple. Put a piece of lighted candle on a cork float-
ing on the water, and then cover it with an inverted
tumbler, pressing it downward. The candle will de-
scend below the Jevel of the surrounding water, and
continue burning for a short time, although the tum-
bler be entirely immersed. This is because the air in
the tumbler, having no vent, remains in it, and pre-
vents the water from occupying its place.

If a tube was passed through the tumbler, and air
was pumped from above through the tube inte the
tumbler, the light would be maintained so long as the
candle lasted.

The diving-bell is supplied with air in this manner:
It is provided with a platform or seat for the work-
man and suspended from beams projecting from a
barge or pier. As the diving-bell descends, air has to
be pumped in to keep it full. When the bell has reached
its full depth,the pumping is continued to supply air
for respiration, and the superfluous air overflows by the
open mouth and ascends to the surface in great bubbles.

It has already been said that the diving-dress is used
for deep-sea work. Clad in a, diving suit, a man looks
like an exaggerated copy of one of those armored
knights of the middle ages.

It would be a inistake, however, to suppose that
you could make a dive if you had only a diving-suit.
The suit is but a small part of the necessary appara-
tus, the ee and the helmet being two of the
most important items of the outfit. The divi ing-dress
proper is made of india rubber, laid between two lay-
ers of canvas, the rubber being entirely covered. Fast-
ened to the rubber suit with twelve bolts is a collar,
which fits over the shoulders, chest and back. To this
collar the helmet is attached.

The heknet used to be screwed ta the collar, but it is
now fastened with bolts, which is a much safer
method, The helmet is of sheet copper and weighs
thirty pounds. It has three eyehoies—one in front and
one on each side. They are filled with glass half an
ineh thick, and protected with strong copper wire. Af
the back there is a copper pipe, to which the breagh-
jng tube is attached, and on one side is a valve,
through which the foul air escapes.

The helmet is always the last thing to put on, aid even
when the diver comes up for a breathing spell he does
not take his helmet off. One of the eyeholes is un-
serewed, and this answers every purpose. Four hours
is considered a good day’s work.

Three men on the surface attend to the diver, two to
work the air-pump, and one for the air-tube and life-.
line. They must be trustworthy men, for the life of
their comrade is absolutely in their hands. Some
wrecking companies make it a point to employ father
and son, or two brothers. While one of the two dives,
the other i certain to exercise unusual care om the
surface,

When ineased in his armor, the diver is as dry asa
bone, and of course he bas plenty of air. But, when
the wat-r is cold, he is cold, and he needs to wear one
or two suits of heavy flannels.

At depths not exceeding thirty to forty feet, and
with clear water, the diver can see to do any ordinary
work: but in working in turbid water with the diving-
bell, candles are used. There havealso been constructed
an electric lamp and an oil lamp, whieh can ba en-
ploved where light has to be used by divers at great

    
  

 

  
   
 
   
 
 
 
  
 
    
   

 

Dame Nature is a very wise personage. In compari-
son with her inscrutable ways the greatest of human
minds pales into insignificance. In the very brief his-
tory of this earth it has been found that no machine,
however intricate, is more regular in its movements
than that vast piece of mechanism, Nature. Every-
thing seems to work ina groove. The seasons cone
and go, the tides of the sea rise and fall, life and
death oceur, the sun and the moon and the stars ap-
pear at their accustomed time, and the march of ages
does not rust the machinery nor wear out the parts of
that great plan modeled by an Infinite Being.

% % *

Fevers and floods and plagues attack those portions
of the earth where there is an overcrowding of the
population, Inventions come at their apparently al-
lotted time, and the wealth hidden under the soil is
revealed, not all at once, but at stated periods and
when the need arises. History proves the truth of these
statements. Coal and iron, silver and gold, diamonds
and other precious stones have existed almost since the
earth’s formation, yet their presence was unknown
until the progress of civilization found use for them.

i * k >

Each successive decade has had its own great find of
metal, Australia, Africa, California, each yielded its
stores in turn. And now in this, the latter part of the
century, the bleak and inhospitable regions of the
North come forth with promises of wealth in gold so
vast that the whole world is thrilled. There is magic
in the very word Gold; it isa name to conjure with
and the strife for it has caused much of the world’s
misery, and added much to crime. Be that as it may,
while human nature remains utichanged just so long
will one’s blood quicken and one’s mind give ear when
the word is mentioned.

ye . ay
* * %

The readers of the Army and Navy Weekly will have
an added interest in the new serial from that fact.
The title ‘‘Tom Fenwick’s Fortune; or The Gold of
Flat Top Mountain,’’ the opeuing chapters of which
will be published next week, gives an indication of the
subject. It is by an author long and favorably known
as a writer of juvenile stories; and there is not a dull
line in it from beginning to end.

% ae x

The new department, Amateur Journalisin, is meet-
ing with cordial favor. The subject is one not previ-
ously treated by juvenile publications, and those inter-
ested in journalism, either as publishers or writers,
have been quick to acknowledge and appreciate the
efforts of the Army and Navy Weekly to devote a sep-
arate department to their interests. The prize of five
dollars in gold offered for the best essay on amateur
journalism is bound to be productive of great good
and to arouse interest im the subject among the youth
of Ameriea. ;

* x *

While speakiag of prize contests it is well to remind
you that a new contest will be commenced in the
Aviny and Navy Weekly next week.

Full details will

 
 

Address all communications to “Army and Navy Weekly,” STREET & SMITH,
238 William Street, New York City.

be given on the title page. It is the intention of the
publishers to make prize contests a special feature of
this publication. Valuable prizes will be offered and
the contests will be both novel and interesting: Tell
your friends to order No. 19 Army and Navy Weekly,
out next week.

=F % *

G. W. R., Philadelphia, Pa., requests informatio
concerning the profession of surveyor, also where there
is a good school in which surveying is taught. He adds
that he has steady indoor work but his health is suffer-
ing from the confinement. :

If G. W. R. is looking for outdoor work, the ocecu-
pation of draughtsman would not be advisable, as this
work is very confining. Surveying would suit bet-
ter, as surveyors are obliged to work in the open air
and mostly in the country.

Surveying, taken from the French word survoir, to
overlook, is the art of measvring portions of the sur-
face of the earth, either for the purpose of calculating
the contents of areas, of laying out tracks of required
extent, of establishing roads, or of preparing maps.

The systems of surveying may be classed according
to their special objects; as land surveying, for deter-
mining the contents of areas, or dividing tracts into
lots of smaller dimensions; maritime surveying, the
object of which isthe determination of the positions
of chaunels, shoals, rocks and the shore line; and min-
ing surveying, for fixing the positions of the under-
ground works in mines, so that these can be correctly
mapped. se es

Surveying is classed among the first-class professions
of the day, and it would be advisable for our young

 
   
 
   
  

Philadelphia friend to learn it, since he has a_ liking
for it. ‘ pea =o

If he is so situated, financially speaking, that he can
take a course at some institute of technology we would
advise him to do so. There are a large number of first-
class colleges throughout the United:States where one
could learn enough surveying in one course to enable
him to filla minor position in a surveyor’s office.
The most prominent colleges are the Columbia, New
York City; Massachusetts Institute of Technology; |
Boston, Mass.; Rose Polytechnic, Terre Haute, Ind.,
and Stevens Institute, Hoboken, N. J. I could men-
tion a few other first-class colleges, but it is not neces-
sary. A clerk in the office of a surveyor, or an assist-
ant in the fields might receive $5 a week for the first
year, He would receive an iicrease in the third and
fourth years as he proved valuable. There is no stated
salary. It depends on the quantity and quality of Be
work a surveyor has to do. ye) Ve eT Se ae

 

 

    
 
 
 
 
 
   

 
 
 
 

 

a

a

   
 
 
 
  
   
  
   
  
  

The Welsh Wonder.

_ We present our readers this week a portrait of that
marvelous bicycle rider, ‘‘Jimmy’’ Michael. The daily
papers during the past months have been filled with
detailed accounts of his truly wonderful achievements.
A special article, containing Michael’s history, was
published in No. 6, Army and Navy Weekly. Since
that time ‘‘Jimmy’’ has been amusing himself break-
ing records. On September 18, he won the race of his
ife by defeating both Lesna and McDuffee in the
~ $5,000 mateh race at Charles River Park. Every
‘world’s record, from three miles up to twenty-five
was broken, and Michael completed his wonderful
ride by finishing in 45 minutes 58 4-5 seconds, 1 min-
ute and 53 1-5 seconds below the world’s record of 47
minutes 52 seconds. Michael
beat Lesna by a lap and Mc-
Duffee by two laps. He won
the race distinctly on his
merits, demonstrating that
-he is béyovid all question the
king of paced riders. His
riding was the perfection of ©
grace and beauty, his legs
moving with the regularity
and precision of a pendulum.
Not onee after he made a
( spurt in the second lap in
' ‘the third mile and passed
“McDuffee, who was then
leading, was there any
doubt ‘as to the final out-
come. It was simply a ques-
tion of how much he would ,
beat’ both men. His pacing, §
also, very nearly approach- §
sd perfection, his pick-ups
being made in faultless shape,
and without the loss of a
fraction of a second.
- Michael’s grand work kept
the crowd on edge and a con-
tinuous roar of applause
from 17,000 throats greeted : :
him on all sides from the first minute until the last.
Juesna, who finished second, rode a grand race and
pitted against any other man than the Welsh’ wonder
would have won easily, His pacing was good and he
showed an ability to follow any pace set. He was
markedly superior to. McDuffee, and in several in-
stances ran away. from him in sprints. McDuffee rode
a game race, but was outclassed. He was handicapped
to a large extent by the breaking down of three of his
big machines, causing him to lose pace entirely, but
he was not able to travel fast enough to keep up the
pace his men set, and they were not able to maintain
the speed they were capable of.

  
    
 
  
  
 

: . The Football Outlook.

ai _ All colleges, large and small, are preparing for the
foothall season of °97. Everywhere, on the campus, in

the clubs, at the table and even in class rooms, the
"gone subject of conversation is football. The merits of
: | the various players and the possibilities of the different
- goellege and school teams are discussed ad infinatum.
And even the daily papers are full of it. The candi-
dates for the Jarger university teams have already
commenced practice in earnest. Besides the four great
colleges there are several which promise to show re-
markable strength during the coming season. Cornell,

 
 
  
  

‘ oe
ve

  

 

mC

 

gan 46, total 1,890; Maryland 389,

Brown, Lafayette and the Indians last year showed
surprising form for the smaller institutions, and this
year Lid fair to be even stronger. A radical change
in football policy will be seen at Ithaca. The game _ is
practically in its infancy there, and for the last few
years the Cornell boys have depended mainly upon
coachers from other colleges, but Warner, captain of
their famous 794 team, will coach the new players.
Brown this year promises to have as strong a team on
the field as ever represented that seat of learning. Her
work is not the best at the first of the year, but the
supporters of her colors are assured that there will be
no reason to fear weakness. Fultz, the star half back
of the *96 team is now captain, and under his able
leadership Brown isin to win. Lafayette will again
be coached by Parke H. Davis, an old Princeton man.
This year’s team promises
even greater strength than
that of °96, as only two men
leave, Rowland and Barclay.
The giant guard Rhinehart,
who played such a_ brilliant
game against Pennsylvania,
is this year’s captain. There
are three big games scheduled
for this year, but in piace of
the Princeton-Harvard game
last fall, Harvard and Yale,
who have buried the hatchet,
will meet at Cambridge on
November 13. The Yale-
Princeton. game and the
Harvard-Pennsylvania game
will be played as usual on the
Saturday before Thanks-
\ giving Day. George.Wood-
\ ruff, a most original and
progressive coach, has con-
sented to remain with the
Pennsylvania team for one
‘ more year. Although Yale
has lost a great many men
by graduation, still the
outlook is not so dark as
it would seem at the first
Many substitutes are back who almost made

glance.
the team last year, and with the experience they have

gathered should make very valuable men. Both
Harvard and Princeton are preparing to make a_ bril-
liant start on the gridiron. The latter, however, may
find it extremely difficult to fill the places of such
men as Gailey, Smith, Brokaw and Church. ‘‘Prince-
ton luck’? may come to the fore again. Secretary of
War Alger, has notified Mr. Roosevelt, Acting Secre-
tary of the Navy, that after learning the views of
Colonel O. H. Ernst, superintendent of the Military
Academy, be has reached the conclusion that it will be
inadvisable to permit the eleven of that institution to
engage in a football game with the Annapolis team.
This Mr. Roosevelt very much regrets as he believes
such contests foster a healthy spirit of rivalry among
the boys and afford them beneficial exercise. We are
heartily of the same opinion.

The L. 4. W. membership has been increased to a
total of 100,000 The returns from the leading divisions
are as follows: New York 324, total 23,792; Pennsyl-
vania 634, total 20,166; Massachusetts 120, total 11,485:
New Jersey 1,129, total 6,028; TDllinois 2, total 2,922:
Ohio 34, total 2,820: Wisconsin 8, total 2,420: Con-
necticut 23, total 1,914; Missouri 15, total 1,709; Michi-
total 1.649: North
Carolina 2: total 764; Rhode Island 19, total 1,506.
   

   

ITEMS OF (NTEREST

oS cS

IND AL AA

 

Hints from an Old Hunter.

This is what an old hunter and bear-tamer says:
‘*Whenever I heard of a man who was going out bear-
shooting for the first time, I used to advise him to go
and see one of the bears in our menagerie, and learn a
lesson. This bear, whenever a stranger came and
rapped on the bars of his outer den, rushed from hig
inner den like a flash of. lightning, and bounced
against the iron gratings as if he would have dashed

through them. :

‘‘Tt is advisable to learn what a bear can do in this
way before you go and put fireworks into his eave,
and stand outside on a little rock about four feet high
to get a shot at him as he comes out. If he is at home
he will come out fast enough; and if he sees you he
will be on that rock beside vou before you can say
‘knife.’

‘(Many accidents have happened to inexperienced
men who fancied that the bear would come out quietly
and stand up on his hind legs and give them an early
shot at his white waistcoat.

‘*T would recommend a novice to get on a rock at
least ten feet high, or to stand behind a rock so that
the bear cannot drectly see him. A bear in a fury,
with ali its thick, long hair on end, looks much bigger
than was expected, and when be stands up on his, hind
legs he measures some six feet in height.

“Though not carniverous, he has some big canine
teeth, which make dangerous wounds, and with his
long claws he’has a bad habit of scalping a man if he
cai get a paw on his head. One bear at atime is an
ugly customer for a man on foot; but, perhaps, when
you are expecting one bear to bolt from its cave, the
fireworks that you have thrown in drive out two.

‘¢] never much liked shooting bears on foot; it was
too dangerous for my taste, for hullets were always
flying about in wrong directions, and the bears seldom
broke cover exactly where. they were expected to
come. Of course,
from a howdah on an elephant; but it is also easy to
miss a bear, for his brain is small and well-protected,
and his long, thick hair makes it difficult to judge the
most vulnerable part of his body.’’

An Elephant’s Roll.

To see an elephant roll down a precipice head-over-
heels must bea rare and exciting scene—and aniusing,
too, when nobody, not even the principal actor in the
drama, sustains any injury.

The officer in charge of the government elephant-
catching establishment in India relates the following
incident: The officer and a large body of native ser-
vants were taking a herd of elephants through the
country, when they came to the foot of a steep as-
cent, in which was a pass where they could only go in
single file, and which took much time to get over.

-“T saw,’? says the officer, ‘‘that we should be kept
for hours if this were the only way up, but I felt as-
sured that the opposite side of the spur, round which
the dry bed of a river wound, must be at least as easy
as this; so leaving Sergeant —— and half the follow-
ing to get up by the first route, I took all the ele-
phants and the rest of the men along the bed and
round the spur, where we put the elephants at the
steep ascent the unloaded ones taking the lead and
breaking down the bamboos and long grass.

‘* After a tedious climb under a hot sun, we reached
a level saddle on the top at twelve o’clock; at the
same time Sergeant —— brought up the last of his de-
tachment.

ALL THE WORLD OVER. $3

 

 

it is perfectly safe to shoot a bear .

_ proves once more that an original manner of treat-

  
  

«SS Se

     

 

 

 

‘“The men now preceded us along the narrow saddle, |
whilst the elephants rested to cool aud feed after their —
climb, and we followed in an hour. The saddle was
exceedingly narrow, and obstructed with bambkoos and ~ -
the everlasting grass, and a mishap occurred in the
worst part of the way, which, fortunately, was not
as serious as it tnight hae been. i a

‘fOne elephant, Chumpa, was leading, mine being
second at the time, when a large portion of earth over
which she was passing suddenly gave way, aud witha
bellow of fright poor Chumpa slid down some yards,
and then rolled over and over five distinct times dow:
the steep grass hill, and just stopped short of a deg
ravine, at the bottom. It wasa terrible sight to see
an elephant, toes up, making such rolls. The mahout
(native driver) saved himself by jumping off when
the earth slipped, and clinging to the grass. I sprang
from my elephant iustantly. As Chumpa made no sound
when she got to the bottom, I teared she must be
killed. There was a great smashing of pots. and pans
during her roll, for she carried the native doctor’s
effects, among which were his live-stock, consisting of
eight ducks. :

‘‘Looking down the long lane of grass, T was relieved
to see Chuinpa getting on to her feet; her gear was
left half-way, the girth-ropes having broken,

‘Her mahout, like many natives when suddenly
confronted hy danger or difficulty, had qnite lost his
senses, and now commenced to beat his mouth, and ery
that the elephant was dead. I gave him a box on the
ear that sent him flying down the slippery lane after
his elephant, which he nearly reached before he
stopped, I followed, holding on by the grass, and we
tried to soothe the poor beast after her fright. She did
not seem hurt, and we got her on the path again with
some trouble. :

“‘T had often passed precipitous places on elephants,
with my legs dangling over vacuity. I made a mental
note of this occurrence, and decided in future to turn
the other way, so as to be able to jump on to terra
firma, not into space with an elephant after me, in
case of a roll.”’

    
  
  
  
   
    
     
   
    
  
  
  
    
  
  
   
 

 

 
  
 
 
   
  
    
    
   
  
 
 
   
   
  
    
   
  
       
  
    

About “The Irish,”

Many eloquent aid interesting books have been writ-
ten about Ireland and the Irish people, but a small
boy, attending school in one of the poorest districts of
Lambeth, England, has produced an essay which

ment may lend new interest to the most familiar sub-
ject. He says: ee

‘‘Yhe Trish are so called because they live in thie isl-
and of Ireland. It is a beautiful country, which is
chiefly noted for three principal classes of things, —
which is, namely, its great greenness, its big boguess,
and its little shamrocks. Shamrock. is nothing but a
little bit of green clover. But the Irish love it. .

‘They can’t manyfacture things in Ireland same as
we can from a trakion ingine to a sowing needle. But
still the Irish manyfacture the following classes of
things very exceedingly, namely, Linin, bacon, shop/
eggs and whisky. : ho

‘‘Them Irish as is poor and lives about here have a
queer way of speaking, like as if they had a side tooth
out and the wind was blowing through it. The Irish
have produced nearly all our great soldiers, because
father told a man in our house that. when he once took |
mother to the theatre there was an Irishman singing a. -
song which said, ‘What was Wellington? Why, an -
Irishman. What was Sir Garnet Woolsey? An Ir
man.’ And father said that showed that everybo
had ever done anything werth menshening was
men, :

  
   

 
  
  
  

   

Noricr.—Questions on subjects of general interest only are dealt
with in this department. As the ARMY AND NAvy WEEKLY
goes to press two weeks in 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

-~WerkLY CORRESPONDENCE, P. O. Box 1075, New York city.

 

_ J.L. D, Denver, Col.—The Maid of the Mist was a
. Jittle steamboat that used to carry passengers up and
_.down the Niagara River, between the cataract and the
‘suspension bridge. As she was about to be seized on
an execution for debt, the captain, who was a daring
fellow, got up steam and ran her full tilt through the
whirlpool. He came off safe, the only harm to the
“steamer being the upsetting of her smokestack. Of
-eourse she coald uot return, and therefore she did not
run the whirlpool twice.

EF. F. V., Kansas City, Mo.—Silver may always be
kept bright by washing it everyday in a pan of suds
-made-by good white soap and warm water, drying it
with old soft linen cloths. Twice a week, after this
‘washing, give ita thorough brightening with finely-
powdered whiting, mixed to a thin paste with alcohol,
tubbing longer and harder where there are stains.
Then wipe off the suds, and polish the silver with soft
linen.” Se

_F£. A. P., Des Moines, lowa.— You may learn to read

French without a tutcr, but you will never learn to
speak it. The correct accent can only be acquired in
France itself, or through the medium of French con-
yversation. You might study any number of books, be
perfectly accurate in its garmmar, able even to write
the language with facility, and yet be quite incapable
of conversing in French that would be comprehensible
to.a Frenchman.

D. D. R. R., Philadelphia, Pa.—1. We will probably
have stories by the authors named. 2. The title is not
yet selected. 3. Mr. Sewall’s story will not be a sequel
to any previously published. 4. Yes. 5. No. It is too
far in the future. Lack of space does not permit of
qnore than three serials, 7%, Probably. 8. Not at pres-
eliige
~W.H.G., Kane, Ill.—1. We can not give the ad-
dresses of authors. A letter sent in care of this office
will be zorwarded to the author named. 2. He writes
for book publication. 38. It is impossible to give the
four best publications for boys. Opinions differ, 4.
Your writing and grammar are fair,

F, R., Little Rock, Ark.—1, The loss of part of
any finger would prevent your admission to the Naval
Academy. 2: Naval cadets are paid $500 a year and
are allowed:a ration equalling $108 a year until grad-

uation. ae :

 G. E.M., Shrewsbury, Pa.—Your best plan would

_ be to write fo. the superintendent of Girard College,
_ Philadelphia. He would be able to give you the desired
information.

— ©. T. R., Allentown, Pa.—1. We cannot recall the
“name of the writer or publisher. 2, No. 3. Address the
Secretai'y of the Navy. 4. Apply to the War Depart-
“ment.

_ Nemo, Evanston.—Your height and weight are both

Within the limit. The age is between seventeen and

"twenty-two. :

» 739 Hh. H.,-Milwaukee, Wis.—1. No. 2. Mount St.
_ Elias is supposed to be the highest peak in America.
R. H., New York City.—The patent biscuit sold by

‘dealers and dog fanciers would serve the purpose.

ju. 8. G., Knoxville, Tenn.—Write to the Navy De-
martiuient at Washington for a printed circular.
F.S.J., Marion, Ind.—We do not know of such
publications.

 

 

 

 

 

 

(SpeciAL Norice.—To insure the safe return of stamps sent to us
for examination, correspondents should inclose them in a separate
stamped envelope bearing name and address. The prices quoted
are from current lists aud are subject to change.)

A very handsome set of stamps has been issued in
Tonga. They are finely engraved and printed, and bear
central designs illustrative of Tonga. scenery aud.
products. The values are 1-2 penny, blue; 1 penny.
red and black; 2 penny, bistre and black; 2 1-2 peiny.
light blue and black; 3 penny, green and black; 4 _
penny, mauve and green; 5 penny, orange and black:
§ penny, red; 7 1-2 penny, green and black; 10 penny,
ecarmine and black; 1 shilling, purple and black:
shilling, blue and black; 2 shilling 6 pence, violet:
shilling, brown-red and black, The name is_ spelled
‘‘Toga,’? the native way instead of ‘‘Tonga,’’ as in
English.

  

>
39.
7

The 18 and 24-cent values of the new issues of I ab-
nan and North Borneo are to be withdrawn and new
designs issued, owing to errors in the inscriptions of
the current stamps, in the 18-cent of which are tie
words ‘Postal Revenue,’’ instead of ‘‘Postage aud
Revenue,’’ and in the 24-cent these words are entirely
omitted.

W. B. G., Philadeipbia, Pa.—The New South Wats
Bicycle Express stamps you mention may be rare, bit

we doubt if you could get anywhere near the figure
you mention for them here, as very few collectors

bere are interested in foreign express stamps.

At the stamp exhibition recently held in London,
Mr. William Thorne, a prominent New York collectcr,
received the gold medal for the best 100 stamps, ids
selection being very far superior to any other exhibit
in this class, and was valued at $50,000.

J, A. R., Owosso, Mich.—The coin you mention
with head of Napoleon is French: its face yalue is
about one cent. The other we should judge from your
description to be German or Austrian. There is io
premium ou either.

 

 

The stamps of the TYonian Islands were in use from
1859 to 1864, when the islands were united. to Greece,
The total number issued was 180,000 l-obole, orance:
75,000 2-obole, blue; 45,0.C 4-obole, carminie.

The cost of producing stamped envelopes has stead-
ily decreased from $4.50 per. 1,000 on their introduc-
tion in1858 to an average of $1.22 on this year’s
schedules, and at that price the quality is greatly in-
proved.

The current stamps of the Leeward Islands have re-
eeived a jubilee surcharge consisting of rircle enclosing
the inscription ‘*V.-R. 1.—Sexagenary 1897.”? :

Two and one-half penny and 5 penuy stainps of the
current design have been issued in St. Vincent to re-
place the surcharged stamps of these values.

A German paper states that some of the plates of the
old Naples stanips have been stolen and wains col-
lectors to look out for reprints of these staips.

It is reported that Zululand is to be annexed to Na-
tal, and should this amalgamation take place the
stamps of Zululand will cease to be issued.

The law repealing the tax on documents was passed
in 1872, but the tax on proprietary articles was con-
tinued until 1883, :

A cancelled Confederate stamp was recently seen
which passed
1892.

through a Massachusetts postoffice in

  
  

 

Toren os = -

    
   
 

s

 

¢ ® NEWS NOTES ~\
OF INTEREST TO THE
‘YOUNG PUBLISHERS

» AND AUTHORS

© SOF AMERICA

IDR
JEN

 

 

   

A PRIZE CONTEST.

To stimulate interest in amateur journalism in the United States and for the purpose of aiding beginners

in amateur publishing, the Army and Navy Weekly offers a prize of FIVE DOLLARS IN GO

LD for the best

article written from actual experience on amateur journalism in general. The articles should not exceed five

hundred words in length and must be comprehensive in treatment.

That is, they should deal of amateur jour-

nalism in all its bran ches—size, composing, presswork, collection of articles, cost of material, possibilitzes of ad-
vertising, methods of securing subscribers, and whether weekly or monthly issues are considered most advisable.
t should be understood that amateur papers in a strict sense, are those edited and printed by either boys or

girls under age.

The prize will be awarded to the most carefully written and comprehensive article. A portrait and brief

autobiography of the prize winner will be published.
The contest will close November Ist. 18977.

 

EDITOR’S TABLE,

 

Your attention is called to the prize contest an-
nounced above. Do not fail to compete.
* * *
Letters of advice and suggestion from readers inter-
ested in amateur journalism are always weleome.

John K. Arnold, Mt. Sterling, Ky., would like to
write for amateur papers. He can be addressed as
above.

: Bo * 2k

The ‘‘Table’’ isin receipt of a very cordial letter
from J. Fred Crosson, the president-elect of the U. A.
BoA;

ate sh .
* oe *

The ‘‘Table’’ is in receipt of the following amateur
publications: ‘‘The Visitor,’’? for August; ‘‘Publico,’’
September number; ‘‘Blots,’?’ for September; and
‘Pacts and Fancies,’’ July issue.

* * *

The *‘ Visitor’? is with us again this week, bright
and clean in its attractive cover. It contains a half-
tone portrait of J. Fred Crosson on _ the first cover
page, and is especially devoted to the U. A. P. A.
election reports. Miss Amanda EH. Frees of Chicago,
contributes a charming poem entitled
occupies the first page. ‘‘How Mac Died,’’ by Will
Dineen, is ashort story of considerable merit.

various departments are conducted by Harris Reed,
Jr., M. M. Hayes and *‘Xalis.?’

sh she xy
* k ok

‘*Blots,’’? published in Milwaukee, Wis., by the
Blots Publishing Co., is an attractive eight-page,
tinted cover paper devoted to the interests of amateur
journalism and clubdom. The editors are E. J. Busch-
mann, A. B. Hvaleand J. J. Sallman. The staff in-
cludes some of the brightest stars in amateur journal-
ism. The first issue contains a well-written short story
entitled ‘‘Jimmy,’’ by Miss Amanda E. Frees, a
column and a half of pertinent editorial notes, a spe-
cial article on the amateur clubs of America, contrib-
uted by ‘‘Beeks,’’ and a review of the recent U. A.
P. A, convention. ‘‘Blots’? is welcome to amateur
iournalistic cireles.

The September number of ‘‘Publico”’ is an extreme-
ly neat and ambitious sheet. It is tastefully printed in
two colors and contains half-tone purtraits of J. Fred
Crosson, president-elect U. A. P. A., and Samuel De
Hayn, past supreme president Y. A. C., chief of re-
views, U. A. P. A. The Jeading article is devoted to
an exhaustive review of the first annual convention
of the Young American Club, which was held August
16th in Colonial Hall, Philadelphia. The article is by
G. Wash. Darragh, the editor and publisher of ‘‘Pub-

m%

“Hvening.’’? It

The
Convention reyiew is by J. Fred Crosson, and the

lieco.’? A department, ‘‘A. P. C. Pencilings,’? is con-
ducted by Ed. H. Weigel, one of the associate editors:
The whole issue is a eredit to the young publishers.

* * ke

The newly-elected officers of the Young America
Club are: Supreme president, G. Wash. Darragh.

Philadelphia; supreme first vice-president, M. B. Lip—

pincott, Caniden, N. J.; supreme second vice presi-
dent, J. F. Weigel, Harrisburg, Pa.; supreme’ third
vice-president, T. C. Clune, New York, N. Y.; su-
preme secretary, Harris Reed, Jr., Philadelphia; su-
preme treasurer, Hd. H. Weigel, Harrisburg, Pa. ; su-

preme official editor, J. Fred Crosson, Philadelphia;
A. Matthews, Philadelphia;

supreme librarian, M.
supreme trustees, F. L. Campbell, Chester, Pa., A.
S. Flinn, Newtonville, Mass., Chas. F. Kelley, Phila-
delphia.- Convention seat for 1898, Harrisburg, Pa.

. Official organ, ‘‘Qui Vive.’

2 ee ea

THE COPY HOOK.

Sir Walter Besant, the famous English author, has
this advice to offer amateur writers: ‘‘A boy should
above all provide hiniself with a knowledge. of ‘short-
hand, and be able to read one other language besides
his own. He need not necessarily write it well, but he
ought to know how to read it. Continual practice in
writing is necessary. Nothing helps more than writing
and reading poetry. Boysshould practice landseape de-
scription and draw word portraits of different living
characters.’’ pe

* % oe

Alexander Dumas, the famous French dramatist who

recently died, was, as a boy, sent by his father to three
different boarding houses and three different /sehools.
and afterwards accompanied him on a.trip.to Spain,
Morocco and Algiers. Thetwo were very much .at-
tached to each other, although their positions seemed
reversed, and Dumas the younger spoke’ of his father
as ‘‘a big child that Thad when I was a very ‘little
one.’’ His grandfather was one of Napoleon’s generals,
and a man of such enormous strength that it is said he.

could crush a horse to death between his légs\

she sh he
6 ms 7

Great Newspaper Proprietor (who has’ madé “a for-
tune in trade and then bought a daily for‘some reaso:
no fellow can find out)—‘‘This is Saturday, isn
want a forty page paper for to-morrow.”’) ©) ° ene

Editor (meekly)—‘‘But, sir, the whole forces, °if ‘fur—
nished with brand-new shears, couldn’t get out more:
than twenty pages on such short notice.?? 3) ic

   
 

 

G. N. P. (authoritatively)—‘‘Let the other “twenty
Retecnke We oBe

pages be filled with advertisements, ’’ ee
Editor—‘‘ But, sir, we haven’t the advertisements: .
G. N. P.—‘'Go out and buy some, then.’

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

   
 
  

 

  
 
   
  
   
 

 

 

 

 

 

   
     
    
  
  
  
   
   
 
   
    
 
    
   
   
 

 

 

 
 
 

 

  
   
   
  
    
   
    
  
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

pee iS Seeking Information. Cake and Bread Language.
Sister’s Little Brother.—‘‘Was you born with a_ sil- Little Dot.—‘‘Oh, I just love cake. It’s awful nice.’

  
  
   
  
  

ver spoon in your mouth, Mr. Poorchappe?”’ Mamma (reprovingly)—‘*You should not say you
Mr. Poorchappe (sister’s caller)—‘‘I fear not. Why ‘love’ cake; say ‘like.’ Do not say ‘awful;’ say ‘very.’
do you ask?”?’ Do not say ‘nice;’ say ‘good.’ And, by the way, the
Little Brother—‘‘I thort mebby you was. EHvery- =. word ‘just’? should be omitted, also the ‘oh.’ Now, ~~
body says you’re awful spooney.’’ my dear, repeat the sentence correctly.’’
Little Dot—‘'I like cake; it’s very good.’’
ae Mamma—‘‘That’s better.”’
Little Dot (with an air of disgust)—‘‘Sounds asif {
ooo Power of Will, was talkin’ ’bout bread.’’
xpectant Nephew—‘‘How is my rich uncle to- » Z
day??? WwW
~ Family Doctor—‘‘Much better. His will keeps him The Surest Way,
alive.”? : é First Outer—‘‘I didn’t see you in bathing this ie
‘* Nephew (sadly)—‘‘I’m afraid that’s so. He made season,’’
his will in my favor twenty years ago, and I don’t Second Outer—‘*‘No. When I want a bath I go canoe-
alieve he’ll die while that will is in existence.’’ ing.”
& a mm * a * *

Two Sorts ef Bo s.
Birst: City, Boy.— tl
hope we won’t take a
country house again.
Lee
Second. City Boys
‘What! Hate the coun-
wry
‘No, the country is
good enough, but
there’s always a gar-

The Inauisitive Monkey; or, Curtailing a Tail,

   
    
   
  
  
  

   

   

Cone ie
den; and ma and pa on"

2 ; : : 4 4
go "bout crazy over it, ae /
i sy * ty Wy YH, Hi
plantin’ things in the , Wy Wy, |

a We MY GLMYI EL
spring, and then, when a -
hot weather comes, fae

   

     

  

they get tired and stop
botherin’ *bout it, and
then, the weeds come
up; and then they al-
ways want me to weed
garden, ’cause it’s allt We
good, . healthful out- 3
door exercise for boys
of my age. I hate it.”’

“Well, you’re a
chump. We have a
garden every summer,
too, but I don’t do any
weeding, not much I
BON Fe isan

‘Have. you. a gar-
dener?’? —

*tNo.?? ;
Then how do you
get out of ft???’
“*Well, you see, I
never can.learn the
difference. betwee
weeds and other things,
and by the time I’ve
dug up a lot of flowers
an’ veg?tables mother.
comes runnin’ out. and
says 1.ain’t big encugh
to weed garden. Then
{go fishin?”

 
   
     
   
     
   
     
       
   
     
         
     
   
         
     
   
   
   
   
   
 
864

From the Cyclone Section.

Little Miss (who has been to the opera)—‘‘ Uncle
John, did you ever see ‘Castles in the Air?’ ”’

Uncle Wayback (from the West) —"‘No, my dear,
but I’ve seen houses an’ barns in th’ air many a
time.’’ ;

A Summer Vacation.

De Buli—‘‘How did you enjoy yourself at Restful
Beach?’’

De Bear—‘‘First rate. Got ail the city papers be-
fore breakfast, and there was a_ stock-ticker in the
reading-room.’’

“Don’t you think my milk is pure?’’ said the milk-
man to his customer.

‘‘No, sir, it ain’t, not by a long chalk,’’ was the
reply, ’and there was uo more said.

 

CONSUMPTION CURED.

An old physician, retired from practice, had placed in
his hands by an East India missionary the formula of a
simple vegetable remedy for the speedy and permanent
enre of Consumption, Bronehitis, Catarrh, Asthma and all
Throat and Lung Affections, also a positive and radical
eure 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 all who wish it, this recipe, in Ger-
nian, French or English, with full directions for prepar-
ing and using. Sent by ‘mail, by addressing with stamp,
naming this paper. W. A. NOYES, 820 Powers’ Block, Ro-
CHESTeM ING OY 5

War Heroes

oie AND MILITARY SERVICES

Gen’Is Grant, Sherman, Sheridan.

 

These books are worthy a place in every
household and should be in every library.
They are octavo size, over 200 pages each‘
handsomely bound in an attractive illumi-
nated cover in which is reproduced bya
new process the latest photograph of the
heroes. Each :

. book complete in
© itself. When or-
dering please state
which book you
desire. Liberal
discounts to
agents. It will
only pe necessary

to secure orders as
they are the best-
and most reason-
able ever publish-
ed for the price. For sale by all newse
dealers or sent post-paid by the publishers
Zon receipt of price.

25 GENES -bACH. 2
Fg BRLAG SERIES,
232 William St., P. O. Box 1:73,
New York City.

EARN A BICYCLE!

We wish to introduce our ed ule,

FP ing Powder. Sell to
earn a BICYCLE; 50 ie. ee a

We GOLDWATCH AND

2 lbs. for a Rca

Y TUNG} 50 lbs. for a
= RATED DINNER SET. teres
cea if cash i is se’ ant with order. Send your full address
on postal for Catalogue and Order Blank.
®W. G. BAKER, Springfield, Mass.
Dept. 43.
Mention Army aud Ne avy Weekly.

AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHY.

Many people imagine that a photographer’s camera is a difficult
machine to handle, and that the work isdirty and disagreeable. All
this isa mistake. Photography is a clean, light, and pleasant ac-
ecomplishment, within the reach of all. ‘The-camera will prove a
friend, reporter, and helper. With a very inexpensive camera any
boy or girl can now learn notonly to take good pictures, but pictures
that there is everywhere a demand for at remmnerative prices. A
eomplete guide to this fascinating art, entitled AMATEUR MANUAL
OF PHOTOGRAI WY will he sant on receipt of ten cents.

MANUAL LIBRARY, 25 Rose street. New York.

 

 

On the summit a the Chelten Hills, near r Philadelphia.
Pennsylvania’s leading college-prepaar tory boarding-school
under the military system. 70 cadets; to resident in-
structors. Special terms to U.S. A. and U.S. N. office

* Hilustrated catalogue. ee
JOHN G.- RICE; Ph.D. Prin. mote Pa.

Mention Army and Navy Weekly.

 

 

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Watch, also a Chain and Charm for selling

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Send your full address by return mail and

me will forward the Bluine, post-paid, and

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HH. L. ASHFIELD, 767 Prospect Ave., New York.
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Army § Davy Weekly
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, fifty cents. Address,

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MOTH ER while Teething. 25 gents a bottle mee

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NEW YORK CITY. —

Be snre to use “Mrs. Winslow’s
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Turkey, Mexico, Cape Good —

ORONO

Ke

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Rs
Ww

<>,

PK

Sesiss

pure sea

>

 
 

 

    

 

      
  
 

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$5
C3

ema
SAO,

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Army and Navy Weekly.

net, @ see

48 LARGE MAGAZINE PAGES.

 

ey @ GEE

Three Serial Stories by the best Writers.

Two Complete Naval and

Military Stories. Sketches, Special Articles, Departments.

ALL, FOR FIVE CENTS. =

WOOGO2 OR] C]OCB

LIST OF STORIES ALREADY PUBLISHED.

. Mark Mallory at West Point.

Clifford Faraday’s Ambition. A Tale of a

Naval Sham Battle.
Winning a Naval Appointment; or, Clif
Faraday’s Victory.

Mark. Mallory’s Heroism; or, First Steps

fe

8.

9.

Toward West Point.

The Rival Candidates; or, Mark’s Fight for
a Military Cadetship.

Clif Faraday’s Endurance; or, Preparing for
the Naval Academy.

. Passing the Examinations; or, Clif Faraday’s

Success.
Mark Mallory’s Stratagem; or, Hazing the
Hazers.

. In West Point at Last; or, Mark Mallory’s

Triumph.
Clif Faraday’s Generosity; or, Pleading an
Enemy’s Cause.

. A Naval Plebe’s Experience; or, Clif Faraday

at Annapolis.
Mark Mallory’s Chum; or, The Trials of a
West Point Cadet.
Friends and Foes at West Point; or, Mark
Mallory’s Alliance.
Clif Faraday’s Forbearance; or, The Struggle
in the Santee’s Hold.

Settling a Score; or, Clif Faraday’s Gallant
Fight.

Mark Mallory’s Honor; or, A West Point
Mystery.

Fun and Frolics at West Point; or, Mark
Mallory’s Clever Rescue.
Clif Faraday’s Deftance; or,

Cadet Rule.

Breaking a

BACK

 

No.

10,

A Naval Academy Hazing; or, Clif Faraday’s
Winning Trick.
Mark Mallory’s Battle; or

Plebe Against
Yearling.

7

. A West Point Combine; or, Mark Mallory’s

New Allies.
Clif Faraday’s Expedient; or, the Trial of
the Crimson Spot.

. The End of the Feud; or, Clif Faraday’s

Generous Revenge.
Mark Mallory’s Danger; or, In the Shadow
of Dismissal.

. Mark Mallory’s Feat; or, Making Friends of

Enemies,
Clif Faraday’s Raid; or, Plebe Fun and
Triumphs.

. An Enemy’s Blow; or. Clif Faraday in Peril.

Mark Mallory in Camp; or, Hazing the
Yearlings.

. A West Point Comedy; or, Mark Mallory’s

Practical Joke.
Clif Faraday’s Escape; or, Foiling a Daring
Plot.

. A Practice Ship Frolic; or, How Clif Faraday

Outwitted the Enemy.
Mark Mallory’s Celebration; or, A Fourth of
July at West Point.

. Mark Mallory on Guard; or, Deviling a West

Point Sentry.
Clif Faraday, Hero; or, A Risk for a Friend.

. An Ocean Mystery; or, Clif Faraday’s Strange

Adventure.

Mark Mallory’s Peril; or, A Test of Friend-
ship.

A West Point Hop; or, Mark Mallory’s De-
termination.

Clif Faraday’s Troupe; or, An Entertainment
at Sea.

NUMBERS ALWAYS ON HAND.

SVOVVVBOCVEVVGEB

Address Army and Navy Weekly, 238 William St.

«_ STREET & SMITH, New York City.

 

 

 

 
 

SL OS

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In OrSEO ERIS REUNIONS ISIS

OES:

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ANN

 

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The Army

 

 

 

 

Navy Weekly

TIS
- THE MONARCH OF -

3

 

e
“et

JUVENILE PUBLICATIONS
Qa

LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS.

te

During the coming fall and winter, serials, complete stories and sketches

from the pens of the following well-known and popular authors will be
published in THE ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY:

HORATIO ALGER, Fr.
Author of ‘‘The $500 Check,’ etc.

WILLIAM MURRAY GRAYDON,

Author of ‘‘The Legacy of Peril;”’ ‘In Barracks
and Wigwam,” etc.

LIEUT. FREDERICK GARRISON, U. S. A.

Author of the popular West Point series now
running in THe ARMy AND Navy WEEKLY.

ENSIGN.-CLARKE FITCH, U. Sv N.

Author of the fascinating stories of Naval
Academy life, now being issued in this publi-
cation.

ENRIQUE H,-Lerwris,
Author of ‘‘The Nameless Story,’ ‘‘Yankee
Boys in Japan,” etc.

MATTHEW WHITE, fr.

Author of ‘The Tour of a Private Car,”
em. cla

LIEUT. LIONEL LOUNSBERRY,

Author of the famous ‘‘Kit Carey” Series,
etcn ete:

 

 

 

 

 

 

| ARTHUR SEWALL,

Author of the well-known ‘‘Gay Dashleigh’’
series, and editor of THe ARMY AND Navy
WEEKLY.

EDWARD: S. ELLIS,

A charming writer of juvenile stories, whose
name is a household word throughout the
United States.

GEORGE H. COOMER,

Author of ‘‘Boys in the Forecastle,
ended in this publication.

 

” recently

CAPTAIN C. B. ASHLEY.

Author of ‘‘Gilbert the Trapper,’ the con-
cluding chapters of which were published in
No. 7, ARMY AND Navy WEEKLY.

 

= -ALSO-=—

FRANK H..CONVERSE,
BROOKS McCORMACK,

 

 

And a number of other experienced writers of
interesting fiction.

 

 

 

 

SPECIAL FEATURES.

Complete Naval and Military Cadet Stories; New and Interesting Depart-
ments; Itlustrated Articles on the West Point and Annapolis Academies;

Short Stories, Sketches, etc.

»*

* & &* &

 

 

 

STREET & SMITH,

238 William Street, New York Ciiy.-