has combined with this publication. The . ood News continuation of Goop News serials will be found in this number. ve ot toe 2 | Bee0204 TWO DISTINGUISHED FRIENDS THE ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY Headquarters of the Army, Washington, D. C., April 6, 1897. Howarb, AINSLEE & Co., Publishers of the Army and Navy Weekly, New York City. Gentlemen:—Such a publication as you propose would certainly be of much benefit to the youth of the country. A knowledge of the history of our country which is replete with glorious deeds of brave and_ patriotic men would serve to inspire them with a love of country and give them examples that they should emulate. The inculcation in the minds and hearts of our youth of love of the flag ought to be in every way encouraged. Let them become strong men physically and mentally that they may serve their country in the hour of need. To that end I wouid en- courage athletic sports carried on with a manly and magnanimous spirit. Let our boys strive to do all they can to make the name of an American citizen a still prouder title and to be one of the best and most respected. I am, with best wishes for your success, Major General, U. S. Army. New York City, April 20, 1897. Howarb, AInSLEE & Co., Publishers of the Army and Navy Weekly, New York City. Gentlenten:—Any publication tending to increase the patriotism of our, youth is necessarily a good one. We cannot have too much love of country. Upon that foun- dation is based the very existence of the government. To-day, as in all times, the evidence of patriotism is not only in fighting for one’s country, but in upholding the law of the land, During the revolution the farmer seized: his musket and went to the front; the sailor left his ship and took arms in the naval service. In these times our boys enter the government academies with the expecta- tion that some day they may be called upon to fight for the Republic. The two branches of the service—the Army and Navy—are distinct, but they have a common cause—the defence of the Union. The commissioned officers of the American Navy are taken from the graduates of the Naval Academy. They enter there as boys fresh from home, are taught rigorously and trained with unsparing discipline for six years, and are then commissioned as en- signs in active service. The Naval Academy is a great institution, and a lad gains there not only an education fit- ting him for the naval service but for practical business life with the addition of manliness and a sense of obedience. The life is simple, and the location of the school an excel- lent one for the purpose. I wish you success in your new venture. — Army and Navy Weekly A WEEKLY PUBLICATION FOR OUR BOYS. Issued weekly. By subscription, $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-Ciass Matter at ihe New York Post Office — HOWARD, AINSLEE & CO., 238 Waulliam Street, New York. Copyrighted 1897.’ Editor, - - - ARTHUR SEWALL. July 17, 1897. Vol. I. -No: 5. Price, Five Cents.. CONTENTS OF THIS NUMBER: ‘ PAGE. In West Point at Last (Complete story), Lieut. Frederick Garrison, U. S. A. : : 2 5 ‘Topographical Sketch of West Point, : ; : ; : : ; ; 16 Cif Faraday’s Generosity (Complete story), Ensign Clarke Fitch, U.S. N. : : 17 “ - In the Nick of Cine (Illustrated Sketch), D. H. Parry. : ; Sete , 32 Gilbert the Twa goer (Serial), Capt. C. B. Ashley — . i : ; , : ; 34 : Boys in the Forecastle (Serial), George H. Coomer_.. oe 3 : : ' 38 | A Legacy: of Peril (serial), William Murray Graydon : : : 5 ° ; 41 Editorial Chat, ; : : OG ; : ‘ 5 : Department 44 Correspondence Column, io i - ( Department 45 Stamps Column, . ee, : ; ‘ : : . Department 45 Athletic Spor. ; : : ‘ : : : : : Department — 46 Our Joke Department . . . =. . ee i we ee ae Ae NEW. SERA —e~ N No. 7, out week after next, will be published the opening chapters of a new | serial by an author well known to juvenile readers. It is a detective story with an admirable plot, and a wealth of thrilling situations. The name of the author and the ‘title will be announced next week, In West Point at Last; MARK ‘MALLORY’S TRIUMPH. Bw Licut. Prederick Garrisor, U.S. A. _ CHAPTER 1. TWO CANDIDATES. ‘*Hxaminations to-day!’ Mark Mallory, candidate for West Point from the Fourth Con- gressional District of Colorado, sprang lightly out of bed with that exclamation on his lips. He went to the window of the room and gazed out into the main street of Highland Falls. It was a perlect spring morning, the middle of June. The sun was just coming up behind the roofs of the houses, and the hills on the farther shore of the Hudson. Mark stood watching it for a moment and then he turned back and dressed and went out into the hall. From the room opposite came a steady succession of rather vig- orous snores which told that the sunrise had not disturbed the in- mate. - Mark raised his fist and pounded vigorously on the door. **Wake up! you wild and woolly-headed Texas cowboy!’’ he _ shouted. ‘‘Wakeup! Everybody on the ranch has had breakfast and gone off ‘‘ huntin’ annelope,’’ and here you are snoozing. Wake up, I say!’ . A sleepy yawn came from inside and then a muttered, ‘Come in!?? and Mark entered. ‘The occupant of the room, a young man of about Mark’s own’ age, was sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes. ‘*You’re a nice cowboy, you are!’ laughed Mark. ‘‘A nice per- son to represent the state of Texas, where everybody owns ranches’ and gets up before the sun sets.”? + ‘*T ain’t able to git awake somehow up in this country,’’ yawned “Texas.”’ “1 don’t like to sleep in. beds.” © ‘And where would you be sleeping now,”’ laughed Mark, ‘‘if you were home?’’ ‘‘Out on the plains, o’ course,’’ responded the other. ‘‘And do you find it easier to wake up that way ?’’ ‘Yes, indeedy, a durn sight,’’ said Texas. ‘‘I’ve slep’,’’ he continued, sticking a couple oF long shanks out to the floor, and rising. Dye slep’,many an’ many’s the night witha stone, yes sir, a stone fo’ a pillow. Ah’ a feller wakes up quick that way.”? ~— “T shouldn’t think-he’d wake up at all,” observed Mark. “1 shouldn’t lis oF ever get to sleep. ee : A oS : ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. ~— = * 3 ‘‘QOh, it’s easy, when you git used to it, an’ you'd git used to it if you had to.”’ ; ‘“How’d you come to think of West Point, anyway?’ asked Mark. “Deed I doan’t know. Smithers—Smithers is our Congress- man—he didn’t know who to send. So pop said to run up an’ try it an’ look roun’. J’ve run an’, durn it, I’ve looked an’ I want to git back home whar folks kin carry their guns.’’ Mark laughed. ‘‘T wish,’’ he began, after a moment’s thought, ‘‘that I came from ‘Texas.”’ : VEN liye??? “Vou wouldn’t ask that if you knew all the work I had to get an appointment even as an alternate.”’ “Did you have much trouble?’ asked’ Texas. ‘‘’Tel]l me about it.”’ ‘It’s a long story,’’? began Mark. ‘‘I was on here once about nine months ago. I was riding past only I lost my balance and fell off the train. JI was wandering around hunting for somebody when -] met two cadets—third class men, they were then, but I guess they’re second now. Anyway, I stayed here a week and then, of course, I wanted to be a cadet, too. “T went home and found there was a fellow already appointed to try this June, so] thought I was dished at the start. I didn’t know how to raise the hundred dollars to deposit here, besides, for you see I don’t own a father with a few thousand head of cattle like yours. It seems, though, that the gods wanted me to come, for they wrecked my train and nearly killed the candidate-elect, who was on board.”’ ‘“And what happened to you?’’ asked Texas. “Nothing. And I struck more luck besides. I rode off to the nearest town to notify the railroad company, and then a happy idea struck me. It was about one in the morning, then, and I sent in a long account to the New York Globe. They paid me five hundred dollars. ’’ “(Durnation!? exclaimed the Southerner. ‘‘That beats Texas. ”’ ‘Phat must have been a great ride,’ he continued after a mo- ment’s thought. ‘‘Air you fond o’ horses? Kin you rider ‘(A little,’? said Mark, modestly. ‘‘You’ll have a chance to see, perhaps, if we both pass to-day. But you’d have thought it was an exciting ride if you had seen the paper next day. They made me out a regular hero, and I hadn’t done anything at all. Then the congressman held a competitive examination to fill up the vacancy. ‘There were forty who tried—rather different, you see, from the ‘Texas style.’ ‘(And did you win ?”’ ‘No, I came in second, so they made me an alternate. The fellow who won is named Benny Bartlett, and he comes from my own town, Denham’s Gulch. I don’t see how he won, either, for he never seems to study at all. It’s quite a mystery.”’ | It was, and 2 greater mystery than Mark suspected. But it was no mystery to Master Benjamin Bartlett, ‘‘son of the distinguished Squire Bartlett of Denham’s Gulch.”’ 3 a, Fp . That aristocratic gentleman had paid a visit to the city of Den- ver with one hundred dollars in his pocket—and the devil in his heart. For Master Benjamin had found cigarettes and loafing more fun than studying, by far, and had made up his mind that he could 4 ee ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. ~~ eu ee not win by fair means and that he must win—the conclusion of the argument being that he must try foul instead. He had found a printer’s boy, a young chap with less money and no more principle than himself, and had made a deal with him whereby some bits of ereen paper were exchanged for some of white, containing the questions of Congressman Wheeler’s exainination. And Congress- man Wheeler’s examination had.been won by Master Benjamin Bartlett with a percentage of 97. It made little difference to Benny when he tound out subse- quently that Mark Mallory, his rival, had been engaged, while Benny was in Denver, in saving Benny’s mother from their burn- ing home at the risk of the resecuer’s own life. Benny’s ambition was not to be stopped by trifles such as that: All this, of course, Mark did not know. Hoe only knew that Benny had won, and been very mean and insolent about it,.too. ‘111 be good for you,’ said Texas, after a short pause, ‘if you get in, because you’ll have friends among the cadets.’’ “7 won’t at first,’? said Mark, ‘‘because they both go home on furlough in a few days. Butit was quite handy before. Wicks Merritt, one of them, wrote and told me just what to study and all about the exams. He scared meinto studying myself half to death. You ought to see the sample he gave me of the test questions they ask. Wait amoment,’’ Mark added, suddenly, fumbling in his pocket. ‘‘I believe I’ve got it here. It ought to interest you, for we’ve got to pass those exams. to-day- ‘“Let’s go down stairs,’’ said Texas, who was dressed by this time and sitting on the edge of the bed, talking. ‘‘Let’s go out on the _ peteh and read it there.”’ They went down and- Texas flung himself into a chair and opened the paper which was pretty well thumbed and worn by this time. ‘Then he began to read. CHAPTER IL. ‘‘WICKS’’ MERRITT’S LETTER. ‘(To the Graceful Hero: | “‘Vou are hereby authorized to consider yourself congratulated. You are really a phenomenon for your age, and will be a great com- fort to your mother when you grow up. Here is full information about the exams. as you ask. If you find this stupid you may take ‘it in small doses, as I shall give it. — “In the first place write to Washington for instructions, where you will get more than I propose to send you. I have one of the printed papers before me now. It says: ‘The age of admission for cadets is between seventeen and twenty-two years. Candidates must be unmarried, at least five feet in height, free from any infectious or immoral disorder, and gener- ally from any deformity, disease or infirmity which may render them unfit for military service. They must be well versed in reading, in writing, including orthography, in arithmetic and have a knowl- edge of the elements of English grammar, of descriptive geography (particularly of our own country), and of the history of the United States,’ os : ‘* All of which fine piece of rhetoric reads very. easily. ~ But be- _wate; for an awful lot of dynamite can be put into a small cartridge. The examination papers will not be as much fun as the list. Many _ are called and few chosen. The few—ahem !—are the best ; Iam one. oe ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY, ae ao ‘‘ Speaking seriously now, or as seriously as I can, I presume — the governor will get you an appointment, as you say. But don’t have it made by competitive examination; a competitive examina- tin is a deucedly unpleasant thing. Examinations and mosquitoes come up to this place together in June. “If you cannot get the appointment try to be an alternate. — This species of beast is described thus inthe circular: ‘The alter- nate will receive from the War Department a letter of appointment and will be examined with the regular appointee, and, if duly quali- fied, will be admitted to the Academy in the event of the failure of the principal to pass the prescribed preliminary examination.’ ‘‘Now as to the exams. There is a physical one first and a long list of infirmites given on the paper as causes of rejection. They'll ask you if you have a broken back or a tuberculated vermiforni ap- pendix. Also didn’t your great-grandmother’s aunt on your step- -father-in-law’s right hand side think seriously of dying of heart failure; and isit not true that your great-grandfather did die of something. You picked up enough slang here to know that found deficient on examination is condensed into ‘found.’ Now have you many corns? Soldiers are often found upon their feet. I’d call that a very good joke if it were my own. Life is too short fora humorist to laugh at other peoples.’ ‘‘Now let us get to the academicalexams. ‘Candidates must be able to read understandingly, with proper accent and emphasis.’ You may practice on this. ‘They must be able to write from dic- tation sentences from standard pieces of English literature, both prose and poetry.’ Here, also, you may use my letter. I know.no better standard piece in any literature. ‘In arithmetic they are re- quired to possess stich a thorough understanding of all the funda- mental operations as will enable them to combine the various prin- ciples in the solution of any complex problem which can be solved by the methods of arithmetic.’ “There are some sample problems on the page. Ill tell you about one other, and scare you to death. This was one of the com- plex problems alluded to; it was one of those angelic ones about so many men and so many boys that do so much work in so many Avurs, and so many more men and so maliy more boys that do so much more work in so many more hours, and then how many men and how many boys will it ‘take, ete., etc. This kind, like John Gilpin, goes on forever. But the peculiar complexity of that peculiarly complex problem was that the boys didn’t do.any work at all! Which the candiates unanimously voted was a downright mean trick. But it didn’t do any good. Nobody pitied them. The army board, the name of the instrument of torture that looks after such things up here, is a board without a soft side. ‘Jn garmmar candidates must be able to define parts of speech, and to give their classes and properties ;-to give inflections; to give the corresonding masculine and feminine gender nouns; to give and apply the ordinary rules of syntax; to parse tully any ordinary sen- tence; to correct in sentences any ordinary grammatical ErTOrs:” Which last, I presume, includes that same ungrammatical express- ion, ‘grammatical error.’ ~ - _ In geography you must know everything. You will find that if there are ten places on earth you don’t know about those ten will be the ten the examiners hit upon. That is the way with all ex- ams. Here they will ask you the situation of cities with only one 6 ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. inhabitant. and of islands which haven’t been discovered yet. ‘(tAlso the candidate should make himself familiar with as much of the history of the United States as is contained in the or- dinary school histories.’ Which closes the list and likewise my let- ter, except that I wish you luck. Sincerely - yours, ‘*Wicks Merritt.”’ ‘And I think,’? added Mark, as Texas finished, ‘‘that’s enough to scare anybody into studying. lLet’s go in to breakfast.” CHATTER. Tt | INDIAN’S TRIBULATIONS. Mark and Texas breakfasted alone that morning. ‘There was only one other candidate at the hotel with them, anyway. He was Joe Smith from Indianapolis, known as ‘‘Indian’’ among the can- didates and designated already by the cadets as ‘‘the prize pig down among the beasts.’’ ‘‘Beasts,’’? by the way, is the scientific term by which candidates are designated. A variation of this is ‘‘things,’’ and means the same. - Indian was not down to breakfast that morning for the same reason he was never down any morning: he was too lazy. Indian was rather fat, which no doubt accounted for his laziness. He had already become the butt of the school; a good-natured, gullible per- son, who swallowed everything that was given him. That “swallowed everything’’ applies to food as well as fables. “Tm glad he don’t get down!’’ laughed Texas. ‘‘Breakfast is the only square meal I can manage to get. Jet him snooze.’’ The two started for the Point as soon as they had finished break- fast. They did not know what time in the day they were expected te report, and so they strolled up to see what the other candidates were doing, each having carefully noticed first that his precious all- important ‘‘appointment,’’ with the hundred dollars also, was snug-_ ly stowed away in an inner pocket. They found that they were early birds; the headquarters build- ing had not yet been invaded'by the appointees, and so the two strolled on up to watch the busy camp. Here were other curious young men, wandering around and watching everything, but keep- ing a respectful distance away, fromm the cadets—more candidates. The different classes scattered for drills and exercises during the - ~ unorning. Mark and Texasstrolled on up to Trophy Point and spent half an hour or so sitting beneath the trees, waiting impatiently the time to ‘‘report.’’ They had gotten up and were about to return, when a most alarming sight met their eyes. Coming across the pa- rade ground toward them was Joe Smith, scrambling wildly along. It took Mark and his friend only one glance to recognize him. **Jee whiz!’ cried Mark. ‘‘He’s actually running! What on earth can be the matter???’ By this time the Indian had passed them, dashing ahead across the grassy plain. Mark shouted out, and the fugitive turned and with a cry, or rather gasp of relief, raced toward them. He was still going at a desperate pace, reminding one of a run- away ice wagon. He crashed into a tree to stop himself; then he glanced about him anxiously, and finally sank down panting to the ground. : : ‘‘What on earth’s the matter?’ demanded Mark.' Indian’s round face was red and streaming, his eyes were small- sized plates as he gazed around. oo ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. a ‘Bless my soul! — Bless (puff) my soul—oh! I never had such an (puff) experience in my life. I was captured!” ‘Captured! By whom ?”? | . ‘‘I don’t know! Bless my soul, fe should I? It was awful! I was surrounded—surrounded by soldiers—cadets—oh, wait till I get my breath!’ “Where were you ?”’ “In that place they call ‘barracks,’ looking around. And sud- denly they fairly swarmed around me. I was never so scared in my life. And such extraordinary proceedings. ‘They told me to stand on my head. Why, bless my soul, I never did that before! I said I didn’t know how and then they wanted to teach me.’’ And they said if I didn’t they’d fire me!”’ “Fire you? How?” ‘From acannon. They sent for the cannon, too. I never heard of such proceedings in my life. I’m going home. ? ‘‘T wouldn’t,’’ said Mark, seriously. ‘‘Better come with us. We are going to report.’ ‘And are you sure they aren’t around anywhere? I don’t want to’ be held up again.”’ ‘I should hate to hold you up,’’ put in Texas, laughing, as they started across the parade ground again. ‘‘But how did you get away 2”? “I don’t know,’’ said Indian. ‘‘I don’t know just how it hap- pened. “Only they all feli into line and Iran. ‘They marched after me, chased me all the way through the sally port. I never ran so much in my life.’? By this time they had reached the headquarters building again; and this time they found the place in full possession of the candidate. Mark stared at the crowd and at each individual member of it curiously. *‘And to think,’’ he exclaimed to himself, ‘‘every one of them is just as nervous and anxious asI am! ButIam sure no one of them has worked harder.”’ In all the crowd he knew no one (except those he had met at the Falls) until at last, gazing around him expectantly he caught sight of a familiar face. The person was a tall, stoop-shouldered : youth with a sallow, unpleasant complexion’ that told of cigarettes. Beside him strolled a portly, red-faced gentleman witha gold-headed cane and a large checkered waistcoat. ‘‘Tt’s he or I!’? muttered Mark, as he stared at the younger man. ‘‘HeorlI! If he passes I am gone.”’ It was Benny Bartlett. ™ CHAPTER IV. THE PHYSICAL EXAMINATION. Mark preferred to take no notice of his rival and the distinguished squire. He and Benny were upon rather disagreeable terms just at present—not because of their present relations, for Mark was too generous to feel unfriendly on that account, but because of numer- ous other reasons. Benny had made icieelt obnoxious generally. Mark waited until the other Denham’s Gulch agetegation had left and then he and his friends entered the building. They found a very business-like and solemn-looking clerk «staring at them through his spectacles and over a huge ledger. T’o him they showed their Ce ae were oe registered, " certified, cho. and then . i Ae ESPEN AGEL Leapies AS eb dred dollars so > Rev AND NAVY WEEKLY = — passed on to another functionary who respectfully requested to ~ know: oo - “Are your parents rich, poor or medium ?’’ ae Mark didn’t know exactly what that had to do with it, but he answered ‘‘poor,’’ ‘Texas followed with ‘‘rich.’? ‘‘And you ?”’ queried the clerk of Indian. ‘*Bless my soul! How should I know?”’ | ‘“What do you mean?” 3 *“*T have’t got any.”’ “(Oh }>? . ‘And then they passed on and out. ‘*Now,’’ said Texas, ‘‘we go to the hospital.”’ Here they were admitted one atatime to a room containing measuring, weighing and testing machines of every kind conceiv- able, to say nothing of three formidable-looking army surgeons. Mark entered first and stripped for business. He had been told that the examination was rigorous, but he had no fear of being rejected here. A more perfectly developed speci- men of manhood had probably not entered that room the whole day, and Mark saw admiration in the faces of all three of his examiners. He was examined none the less thoroughly, however. He was~ punched and poked and tickled, and weighed and measured and ‘‘listened to,’? as if the surgeons’ lives had depended upon finding a fault. ‘Then finally he was given a signed paper certifying that he had passed successfully and was allowed to take the ‘‘academical exanlination.”? Texas came out beaming. “I passed,’? he said. ‘‘But it was tough for a fact. They didn’t like me because my right arm was twice as big as my left.?? | ‘‘And what’s it doing that way ?’’ asked Mark. ; ‘‘l throw the lariat with the right one,’’ he responded, non- chalently. » ‘Sail in, Redskin, and see what your fate may be!’’ — ‘Give you odds of ten to one,’’ laughed Mark, ‘‘that they have to get more weights for the scales.’ Indian came out with a face that was such a combination of solemnity, and ‘‘scaredness,’’ and happiness, that his friends didn’t know just what to think. : , : ‘‘I passed,’’? he said. ‘‘Yes, I passed. But. bless my soul, they said I’d lose fifty pounds in one week! What do you suppose they mean ??’ “PII tell you,’ said Mark, about ready to explode with laugh- ter. “I'll tell you. In the first place they make you practice marching eight hours a day for training.” “Bless my soul!?? “Yes. This is a very military place, you know, and rather hard to get used to at first. ‘They feed you your food on bayonets for practice,” ‘‘Horrors! And the officers, too ?”? _ ‘No. Don’t you see they have swords? Now——”’ But Texas was roaring by this time and the fun was spoiled. “You're only fooling,’? said Indian, with a grieved look. “J think that’s mean.’ : From the hospital the trio made their way back to headquart- ers, where they reported themselves to the adjutant for mental ex- amination. According to the rules they deposited their one hun-: with the treasurer, and likewise all their spare change. i ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. Cadets at West Point are not allowed to retain money; their pur- chasing they do ‘‘on check-book,’? a system: which will be ex- plained later. : In the last few years there have been some changes made at the Academy. Candidates are no longer examined at the Point, but at various army posts and on the first of March. They report “if suc- cessful at a time when the old cadets arein camp, forbidden by severe penalties to approach ‘barracks’? where the ‘‘plebes’’ are housed. ‘Thus for several weeks there is not, or at least there is not supposed to be, any intercourse between them, and therefore no hazing. Before this change the cadets were still in barracks, and thither a lot of the candidates were sent next. They. were under the guidance of a small orderly, who, know- ing what wasin store for them, and having imbibed a regular West Point contempt for ‘‘beasts,’? had a good deal of fun at their expense. ‘‘hey crossed the road, went under the sally port and out into the open court or quadrangle. Their appearance was heralded with a yell, which rose the moment the first figure was caught sight of. ‘Hooray! Here come the things! Hurry up, everybody!” A word of description of ‘‘barracks.’? A brown stone building, ‘square and plain, built upon two sides of a rectangle, facing north and west, and, together with the academic building: upon the east and the guard-house on the south, enclosing a large court paved with concrete. ‘The barracks are three stories high, have a wooden porch on the first floor and a sally-port or. tunnel cut through the centre of each side and leading to the street. The cadets who appeared to welcome their guests were at the -windows, on the porch, everywhere, staring and grinning, to the ereat discomfiture of the apprehensive beasts. Poor Indian was trem- bling visibly; once more he was near the scene of his miserv, and surrounded by the enemy. The orderly led his charges to the eighth division of barracks; and there they stood at the door waiting to be admitted to ‘‘report?’ to the cadets. The door was opened and at it appeared a tall, uni- formed figure straight as a ramrod and solemn as death, immacu- jate in grey and white, the forty-four brass buttons on .his coat gleaming in the sunlight. ' “Qne at a time,’’? he growled. ‘‘Step in!” “The reluctant crowd shrank back, every man dreading to enter, and striving to hide behind somebody else. There was no danger of more than ‘‘one at a time’’ going in. The cadet gazed on scornfully; and finally, etrowing impatient, he picked out one, the tallest he noticed, and pointed at him. “Step out, sir,’? he commanded, sternly, ‘‘and report. ”’ The candidate ‘‘stepped.’’ It was Mark Mallory, and amid breath- less silence he entered the den, and the door slammed behind him. CHAPTER IV. INSTALLED IN BARRACKS, Things happened so suddenly after that that Mark never knew quite how they did happen. He had a dim, hazy knowledge of the fact that he entered a dark hallway and found himself surrounded by a wild mob. Cadets! Cadets! Cadets! They swarmed on the stairways, they packed the hall, and the see Sra 10 ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. amazed candidate was overwhelmed with orders, suggestions, threats and every species of anything that could be shouted. Above it all was the indignant voice of a tall cadet officer who confronted Hime : “Candidate! Sir! How—dare—you—have—the—impertinence _ —sir !—to—stand—sir !—in—the—presence—sir ! —of — your — su- periors—sir !|——”’ "Put bim- out V2 ‘Teach him manners!’’ “hats xicht! Go for him!’ Scalp him!” <. ‘« Superiors—sir !—with—your—hat—on—sir! Sir!” “Wow! Hooray, that’s right! Put him out! Kill him! Candi- date! Whoop!”’ ‘‘Step—out —sir ! —this—instant—sir ! —take—off —your — hat —sir ! —button—up—your—jacket—sir ! —take—your—hands—out —of—your—pockets—sir ! —and—don’t—look—like—a—scared — tabbit—sir! Go!’’ Mark got out, very much amazed and bewildered, and made the - necessary changes, as far as he could. His sympathetic and anxious companions in misery looked at him in alarm. Then the door opened and he entered again. ‘This time in military fashion. ‘‘What’s your name, sir ?’’? roared the leader, above the din. Mark.’ ‘“What! Sir! What’s your name?”’ ‘“Mark Mallory.’ ‘‘Prodigious! Can it be possible that here stands a man’’—the solemnity of the dread occasion had brought silence now—‘‘a man who desires to become an officer in the army of this great and glori- ous Republic, who is so utterly and unpardonably ignorant of cour- tesy as to address his superiors without sir? Sir! Your name, sir!’’ ‘*Mark Mallory, sir!’ . ‘‘Ah! Now spell it.” ‘*M-a-r——?? What, sir!?? “Oh! M, sir—a, sir—tr, sir—k, sir—Mark, sir.”’ ‘*Now backwards, sir.’? ' ‘“K, sir—r, sir—a, sir—m, sir—Kram, sir! Sir!’ ‘*Good, very good for a beast. What’s that in your hand, sir?”’ vt Nothing, sir”? ‘“Throw it out! Can you dance a jig??? “Nes, sir.”? ‘* Well, don’t doit. Can you sing a song??? NG. sir” **Let’s hear you.”’ COT Ns ‘‘Why don’t you start, sir?’’ a Cop 9) a ‘*Bah! Do you know ‘Mary had a little lamb’ ?” to SNES. Site \ 7 Say it, sit. : ‘‘Mary had——”? 7 Sir?) ‘‘Mary, sir, had, sir, a, sir, little, sir, lamb, sir.”? “Do you know the tune, sir??? | = Ves, sit.”? Re Su ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY, _ OU ‘‘Let’s hear you forget it! Now why are you here, sir?”? ‘*T'o report, sir.?? “Well, why don’t you report and climb out again? What do you mean by wasting our time as if this were a spelling bee ?”’ W hy—er—J——_”” ‘Bah! We can’t waste any more time with this creature. Harry, take it upstairs and lock it in a cell.’ Mark followed a cadet up the iron staircase to the top floor, and then to a cell or ‘‘cage’’ in one corner, i. e., one of the rooms. It was small and had a window with diamond-shaped glass. On one side a partiton made two divisions, an iron bedstead in each and over it a place for the inmate’s name. The floor was of plain wood, the walls painted white and the fireplace black. There was a wooden table beneath the gas jet, and behind the door a row of shéives, and that was all. ‘You stay there till you’re called,’’ growled the cadet gruffly, and disappeared. Mark sat down to await developments. Developments developed quickly. There was a tramp on the staircase again and at the door appeared the same cadet, “Harry.” He was guiding Texas, this time, with his hatin his hand and an expression of most deferential respect upon his face. , ‘‘It is a source of most sincere regret to me,’’ he sail, ‘‘that we are unable to afford you more commodious quarters or a room to yourself. I trust, however, that you will pardon our very crowded condition. ~ Good-day, sir, and pleasant dreams. ”’ And he was gone. Mark looked at Texas in a puzzled sort of way. ‘‘How did they treat you?’’ he asked. ‘Fine!’ said Texas. ‘‘Durnation fine. Hang it, man, I went in thar expectin’ to have a scrap, and ready, by Jinks, to clean out the hull durn crowd. An’ then if they didn’t shake hands an’ take off their hats real polite, now. That’s what I like, durn it.’? Mark laughed; Texas evidently had not seen the joke. ‘“What did they ask you ?”’ ‘Oh, they asked me how I was, an’ how was.everybody down in Texas, and whether pop came on—they’re pretty decent fellers, Piuiionk 1 reckon 1 won't Aght.’eim, after all.” : The rest of the unfortunate menagerie got in and reported some- how Each one had a different tale to tell. Poor Indian came up more terror-stricken than before, threatening, by George, to jump out the window and run all the way home. ‘They had threatened him most horribly, and all because he had tripped over his feet and refused to stand on his head. : ‘‘Do you know,’’ he vowed, ‘‘it was perfectly outrageous. They asked me if I had brought two appointments—said they couldn’t let au of me in on one.”’ ‘*Horrible!’’? echoed Mark, sympathetically. ‘Yes, and they wanted to know which half I’d rather have put out. I was frightened to death. ‘That officer asked me if I’d brought my own dinner, as he couldn’t feed me upon such short notice. Did you ever hear of such nonsense? I think I shall go see the superintendent.’ By this time another frightened candidate had arrived, having safely run the gauntlet; and they kept coming up one by one, each. with a new tale of some unique reception. There were over a hun-_ 6 2 12 ARMY: AND NAVY WEEKLY. woe dred altogether, and by noon the barracks were pretty well aneds Se Then came a suminons to ‘‘fall in,’’ a summons which was destined : to become a familiar sound to them. ‘‘Candida-a-a-ates, turn out!’ : It caine from the open court, ‘‘the area.’’? Down stairs in a con- a fused mob tumbled the newcomers and out of the door. Here they fe ais found the cadet officers in charge, standing stern and immovable. oh “Fall in !™ This meant to form a line, but it took the officers quite a while. ' toearry it out, for while everybody was quite ready to fall, being nervous enough to drop anywhere, nobody knew just where to do it. Atdast, however, soine sort of a double rank, rather ragged, : en began to appear and then came a solemn, silent march to some_ j place; nobody knew just what. It turned out to be to the commissary’s office. “Here each aspit- ant was loaded down with a small mattress, a pillow, a blanket and © an arm chair, making a most convenient load to carry. Besides ~ > this every couple had between them a wash stand, bucket and bowl. Thus gaily caparisoned fer full dress parade, they staggered back to- barracks. The old cadets, especially the yearlings who had done the same last year, looking on in delight and shouting hints and suggestions. Having deposited their burdens in their rooms and having ar- _ ranged everything in strict accordance with even stricter directions, ° the candidates were once more summoned, this time to dinner. “*Candida-a-ates, turn out!’ The line was formed a little more promptly this time, in the rear of the batallion of cadets. There is nothing more ludicrous than the contrast presented then—the perfectly ‘‘dressed’’ line of well ‘‘set up’’ cadets, and the ragged, disorderly team of civilians in every kind of costume conceivable, striving feebly to keep step to the firmly marching line ahead. Mark had watched the cadets disappear into the mess hall; this time for the first time he followed. He found himself in a square, high-ceiling room, with a number of long tables, already sur- | rounded by cadets. ‘The appointees found seats at one side; and in response to the order ‘‘candidates take seats!’’? They took them, and went to work. The meal being over they v were marched back to barracks; and then the cadet officer, before ordering them to break ranks, read the following notice, a notice which set every heart to thumping. ‘Candidates will be assembled ror examination in arithmetic at half-past two this.afternoon.’”’ —_— CHAPTER VI. es THER RESULT OF IT ALL. a Well, the candidates were assembled, and marched over into the \ Academy building, and upstairs to the second floor. There were two | large examination rooms and the board of examiners ready. The \ floors of those rooms were still polished with the feet of the dancers at last Saturday’s afternoon hop; a different scene was going on now. ea The candidates were seated promptly, the few brief instructions = given—twelve questions, two hours and a half, etc.—and then the oe dignified Professor of Mathematics handed out the printed” papers, . and the room settled down to silence and everybody 1 in it to work. ce ce se Be 3 ee y Sa eas ee one ; . : ge ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. Dee Only those who have been through an ‘‘exam.’? can appreciate ‘the anxiety with which Mark Mallory glanced at the paper. One, two, three, four, he glanced down the list—none of the questions looked strange and he gave a sigh of relief and went to work. Benny was working too. Outside, meanwhile, a lonesome, forlorn and anxious figure was pacing the pavement. It was Squire Bartlett. The old man had followed his beloved son everywhere they had gone so far—into headquarteis to register, over to the hospital, into barracks (where the mischievous cadets had refused to admit him and had tormented his protege all the more), over to mess hall, and now back to the Academy, where he was pacing to and fro in anxiety, wondering what was happening to his son. Inside, the son was hard at work, answering questions—and do- ing some other things too. Things that were not down on the pro- grainme. Master Benny had become convinced that what he knew was not enough to win a cadetship on, and so he had resorted to the trick that had won before; Benny was cheating. He could not steal the papers beforehand, but he had-done the next best thing to that. In one pocket lay a neat little ‘‘crib,’’ a roll of information arith- metical. So now the only problein was to use it. Benny. found that prob- Jem enough. ‘The old professor was wary and his assistants more so; altogether Benny had his hands full. Still he was coming along fairly well. Over in another corner Mark was working away, all unsuspici- ous and hopeful. He was doing well, too, but it seemed as if all his doing were to do no good. If Benny passed—well, Mark was the alternate. An hour passed, then two of them, then a little more, and Mark was through. He handed in his papers (for he was sure that he had done the best he could) and went out, leaving Texas and Benny and the Indian all still hard at work. < Outside the elder Bartlett, still pacing, bowed stifiy, and Mark strolled on across the parade ground to watch the first class at ex- hibition mortar practice and to wonder: ‘‘Will I ever do that?” It was some fifteen minutes afterward that Texas put in an ap- pearance, still the same jolly, imperturable Texas, whistling to himself and looking—well, as if he had been doing anything on earth except passing an agonizing exam. - mello!” called Mark. -“Come over: here, you! Did you pass?” oe ‘‘Dunno,’’? responded Texas. ‘Guess I didn’t, *cause I got stuck alot. Durn ’fl care, anyhow. I want to git back home, Drd you pass?”’ : ‘It doesn’t make much difference,’’ said Mark. ~**The- main: question is did Benny Bartlett. That’s worrying me more. I wish I could get blase like you. By the way, how’s Indian?”’ ‘‘Still at work. His hand’s too fat to go fast. He looked as red—red as an Indian ought to be.”’ eee ‘J saw him as I came out,’’ laughed Mark. ‘‘But you look red yourself.’ ‘(T know it,’ said Texas, calmly. ‘You see, I’ve had a fight.°° ete Wat? erted Mark, in-amazement, ‘‘a foht2’. “Ves. Don’t you know what that is?’’ - “Who with, man? ’? echoed Mark, in amazement. ‘Ves, sir! And do not try to crawl out of it, either. I have long ago noticed your dislike of my son, sir, and all because he beat you in a fair examination. It is cowardly, sir.’’ .“*You didnot call me a coward,’’ said Mark, flushing ‘‘when [ rescued your wife and when you were afraid to do it yourself.”” **T have thanked you already for that,’’ said the squire stiffly. ‘“‘But that does not excuse your present outrageous behavior. Stop sir! Do not make excuses, for I have seen you with that ruffian who attacked me, and I shall certainly see, sir, that when you and I return West you shall be severely punished.’’ Mark noticed the sneer implied im ‘‘when you and I return West,’’ but he turned away and walked off in silence. ee The rest of the examination passed without incident of note. On the next day the candidates were worried through English read- ing, writing and orthography. On the third, came history, and geog- raphy and general misery. And that was all—except the waiting. The waiting occupied one more day of marching and being shouted at, and of dodging cadets and hazing. Meanwhile the solemn old professors in the Academy building were marking papers and making out lists. And+hen at last after dinner on the fourth day from the beginning when the weary lads were grouped about _ barracks wondering, ‘‘Oh how much longer must I wait?’’ came the glad cry: ee ee hte ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. 15 ‘*Candida-ates! ‘Turn out!”’ : They turned with even greater alacrity than usual. In the area they found an officer standing, a long typewritten sheet in his hand. ead il? They fell, trembling, weak-kneed, and anxious. Each one read an adverse fate in the adjutant’s solemn face. Oh! would every- body never get in line! ‘The fiendish cadet officers, knowing what was up, took an especial delight in finding fault and giving orders and delaying. : “(Step forward there! Get back on the right, sir! Stop that talking, you, and stand still!’’ At last, of coufse, there was nothing more to find fault with and the cadet officer turned, saluted, and stepped to one side. The adjutant advanced to the centre, faced, and cleared his throat with a formal air. ** Ahem !? Every candidate shivered at that dire sound; the silence of death fell on the line. ‘‘Candidates whose namesare called,’’ he said, in a stern, solemn voice, ‘‘will advance one pace to the front. Ahem!” ‘‘Good heavens!’. thought every single youth. ‘‘Does that mean passed or failed ?”’ Nobody knew; nobody told. For some reason this torturing method is what the army board (with its two or more hard sides) has chosen. ‘‘Adams! Atkinson!’’? began the adjutant; ‘‘Barry! Bart- lett !—_—_”” Everybody craned his neck to see whether most remained of stepped forward, for a majority usually pass, and so one can tell. But this time things were equally divided; there was nothing for Mark and the rest to do but wait. “Carlton! Craigh! Cranston! Dawson! Eager Edgerton! Fuller !——”’ And so on it went until it got down to the m’s—to Mallory! And Mark was shivering. “If my name’s cailed,’’? he thought. ‘Oh, if my name’s called it?1] mean we've both passed or both failed—and I’m gone! If he don’t, I’ve a chance, a chance.’’ ‘‘Harrison! Isaacs! Jones! Judson! Knight! Lane! Linton! Lowery! Lumbden! Malby! Marks!”’ ‘Past me! Past me!’’? muttered our hero. ‘‘Past me! Hither Benny’s passed and I’ve failed, or else—oh heavens! I’m safe.’’ The adjutant came oy to ‘‘Powers,’’ which was Texas name ; he skipped Powers too; and to “‘Smith.”” He skipped Smith. ‘Cwere all in the same box,’’ thought Mark. ‘‘We win or lose together. Oh! I wonder!”’ The adjutant finished the list, and looked up from the paper a moment, while every eye was glued on him and every heart was thumping. “Did you do well?’ whispered Mark to’ the fellow who stood next to him, one who also had not advanced. “Rotten! said he. ‘‘I’m sure I’ve failed.”’ Mark’s heart went down to his boots. The adjutant cleared his throat again. | ‘““"Phose candidates,’’ he began with slowness that was cruel. € \, 16 _ ABMY AND NAVY WEEKLY, =. ‘Those candidates who have remained standing, that is, whose names were not read—— : ‘‘For heavens sakes, don’t you suppose we know that ?’’ thought every wretch in the crowd. oF ‘“Those candidates have——”’ It seemed a dozen ages before the next, the grand supreme word came, the word that for Mark was to tell the result of nearly a year of struggling, and studying, and fighting, for the glorious prize— fighting in spite of all difficuity, and opposition, and treachery. — The word! The officer seemed to hold on to it, to hate to let it out; in reality he waited not half a second, while the anxious crowd strained their ears for the sound. It came—and it was: ‘Passed. Break ranks, march!’ And Mark flung himself on Texas with a shout of victory and joy and relief. Benny Bartlett and the squire went home that night. ~ [ree END. | The next West Point novelette will be entitled, ‘*Mark Mallory’s Chum; or, The Trials of a West Point Cadet,” by Lieutenant Frederick Garrison, U. S. A. ae eS ae Ey ancl 7 sabes ian ie ae EE SE tee as ay’s Generosity ; ; OR, PLEADING AN ENEMY’S CAUSE. Bw Ensign Clarke Fitch, UU. S. Ne CHAPIER: T TWO PRECIOUS CRONIES. ‘‘No leave of absence will be granted to cadets of the fourth class.’ 7 : ‘‘’That’s what I call a confounded shame, Judson,’’ Judson Greene chuckled knowingly and eyed his companion, Chris Spendly, through a wavering cloud of tobacco smoke. “(Do you think that cuts any ice?’’ he asked. it is the tiles)” ‘Ha! ha! ha! Chris,’ you are actually getting soft. What were tules made for, if not to be broken? Do you think for one moment that I’ll pay any attention to what the regulations say? You don’t know me, dear boy.”’ ‘*T guess I know you all right. You forget that you are only a cadet in the Academy and try to act the part of an admiral. You will not be inside the gates a week before you’ll do something to earn a court-martial and dismissal. Oh, 1 know you well enough.’’ Judson Greene tossed the stump of his cigarette into’a cuspidore and leaned his elbows upon the table in front of him. His face, not very prepossessing at best, grew dark and scowling. ‘‘You are making the mistake of your life, Chris Spendly,’’ he exclaimed. ‘‘I’ve got too much at stake here to risk dismissal.’’ ‘Too much at stake?’ echoed Chris, incredulously. ‘‘Why, . is it possible you are stuck on the life?”? CUNO: Pe ‘“Then what in the deuce are you driving at?”’ Judson rapped upon the table with the head of his cane.. The — twain were seated in the back room of alow drinking resort kept by aman known in Annapolis as ‘‘Portugee Joe.’’? It was fre- quented by a sinall class of cadets who considered it the thing to drink and smoke and carouse. Judson Greene and Chris Spendly had belonged to the ‘‘fast set’? in Hartford, Connecticut, where they lived, and it was not long before they found their way to the disreputable resort main- tained in defiance of law and order by the half-breed Portugee Joe. It was the evening of the day upon which the May entrance ex- aminations to the Naval Academy had been held. Both Judson and Chris had passed, and they were celebrating the occasion. While waiting for several boon companions to join them they were ~ ii 18 ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. discussing a certain strict rule of the Academy, which stated that leave of absence would not be granted to fourth class cadets. On the morrow they expected to become members of that class, and they were objecting to the rules thus early. Judson’s rap brought the waiter, a little villainous- faced negro. Here, Cufiy, trot us outa couple of whiskies,’? ordered the former. When the drinks were brought Judson attended to his thirst, then leaned back in his chair and eyed his companion steadily for a moment. At last he spoke. ‘*Did you ever know me to forest or forgive an injury, Spend- ive! he asked. ‘‘Haven’t paid much attention to your little affairs,’’ was the careless reply. ‘‘What are you driving at, anyway? Sos me you have something on your mind this evening ?”’ il dave...) ‘Well, let us hear about it.”’ ‘‘Vou heard me say that I had too much at stake to risk dis- missal. I meant this: Iintend tostay in this Academy until I square accounts with a certain person.”’ ‘‘Oh, ho! You mean the fellow who pulled your nose.’’ Judson reached up and stroked that part of his face, at the same time muttering a vindictive curse beneath his breath. It was evi- dent the subject as well as the nose was sore. ‘It was pretty tough,’’ said Chris, toying with his watch chain. ‘Clifford Faraday means business when he gets started. He would have done the same thing in the superintendent’s office, I believe. Whew! but his face was white. Id hate to have him. look at me like he did at you.”’ ‘I don’t care two whoops in Hades for his looks,’ cried Judson, savagely. ‘‘He insulted me in a way I'll never forgive or forget. Spendly, P11 geteven with Clifford Faraday if I’ve got to kill him— if I’ve got te stab him in the back.”’ Judson took another drink and sat in moody silence for a while. Finally he commenced to speak without looking up, tapping the whilé upon the arm of his chair. His words were addressed more to himself than to his companion. ‘‘T never liked that cad from the moment I first met him,’’ he said. ‘‘He was always a good-goody boy, and he held his head as high as the son of the richest’ man intown. He was as poor as a tat until he made that five thousand dollars saving the dynamite schooner. -I never liked him, I tell you, from the moment I met him. ire got ahead of me at school by his fawning about the ich then he stepped in and jollied the principal of the high school into awarding him the first place in the competitive examination for candidates to this Academy. He beatme out of it and if pop hadn’t scraped up influence with several politicians I’d never have received the appointment at large. After we reached Annapolis to attend the preparatory school before entering the Academy we had that fight and he used something on me to knock me out. I?ll never _ believe he did it with his fists. He clarmed that his collar bone was broken before the fight, but I believe he lied. ‘“He pulled my nose in the superintendent’s outer office to- day, tight before all the fellows. If it had been any other place I’d have - beaten his face in. Confound him, I hate him! I hate the ground. ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. 19° he walks on! I’ll stay here and bide my time, and I'll do him op if it takes six years!’ Judson brought his clinched fist down upon the table with a crash that sent the glasses dancing. Spendly leaned back in his chair and calmly blew wreathes of smoke from his cigarette. He paused in the operation to smile sardonically, and say in a drawling tone: ‘‘Tuddy, you’re a beaut. You tell the story well, especially that part about what you would have done to Faraday if it had beer outside. He! he! my dear boy, you’re only joking, don’t you know. You are afraid of Faraday and——”’ Crash ! A glass smashed into splinters upon the wall back of Spendly’s head. Judson snatched up another, but before he could use it Chris reached across the table and clutched him by the throat. ‘‘Vou fool!’ he hissed. ‘‘What would you do?”’ There was a brief struggle, the two angry youths swayed back and forth, then a lithe, active man slipped through the door with a cat-like tread and sprang upon the combatants. eee teenie an perenne CHAPTHR Ii: 4) WILL HAVE THEM BARRED FROM THE ACADEMY.?’ The newcomer was dark featured, evil-faced and thin almost to attenuation, but he separated Judson and Chris with scarcely an effort. Grasping each by the collar he forced them apart and thrust them into their chairs with no gentle power. ‘‘Do you want-a to bring the p’lice down on my place?’ he demanded, witha snarl. ‘‘If-a you want-a to fight go ’way from here. I no care eef you kill yourself, but not in here. y Judson was the first to recover himself. r ‘“"That’s all right, Joe,’’ he replied, with a foréed: air of gayety. ‘It was only a little difference. We didn’t mean to make a racket. Bring us a bottle of fiz and a couple of your best cigars.’ The order placated the owner of the ‘‘joint,’? and he retired with aleer. Once alone Judson confronted. his companion. He rubbed his hand over his throat and scowled. ‘“That’s a mice way to treat a friend, I must say.”’ Spendly shrugged his shoulders. ‘*You issued the invitation,’’ he replied, coolly. ‘‘Don’t think you can shy glasses at a fellow’s head without receiving a bill for damages. But why should we quarrel, dear boy? TLife’s too short, don’t you know. If we have any fighting to do let’s confine it to Clifford Faraday. He——’? Judson had raised one hand to command ‘silence. A murmur of voices came from the other side of the thin wooden partition. There was something familiar in the tone and both lads rose from the table and leaned against the frail wall. ‘*It’s Grat and Nanny,’’ whispered Judson, presently. ‘*What in the deuce can they be doing in this shanty, I wonder. I thought they were goody-goody boys and friends of Clifford Faraday.” ‘‘What’s the matter with going out and giving them a call- - down just to keep our hand in?’ suggested Chris, with a grin of anticipation. ‘‘We can lick them if it comes to it.”? “Pm yourmutton. I feel in the mood fora scrap. Come on.’?’ The precious twain opened the door and peered through. Standing in front of a little cigar counter near the bar were two é ? 20 ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. lads, one fair-haired and nattily dressed, and the other a slight thin-faced, dark-featured boy with a diffident air. The former was just in the act of receiving a package of ciga- rettes from the bartender, despite the evident protestations of his companion. ‘It’s Grat and Nanny all — ? muttered Judson. ‘‘Fancy them coming in here.’’ ‘If it’s good enough for us it ought to be for them,” pla Chris. ‘‘Who are they, anyway?’ ‘“They are friends of Clif Faraday, and he’s always preaching _ about such places as this.”’ 7 ‘‘He is against cigarette smoking, too, and I guess that’s why Grat Wallace is in here. Hecan’t get them anywhere else. Clif went around town and ‘‘queered’’ his sources of supply. Come on, let’s have some fun.”? . He strode into the other room, followed by Judson. Grat and Nanny glanced up and instantly showed their annoyance at the en- counter. ‘‘Hello, fellows,’’ said Judson, SPIO Nanny on the back. ‘‘Come in to have ball, Cue) ‘*No, we did not come in to eave a ball,’ retorted Gut coldly. ‘‘Come, Nanny, we must get back. Clif is waiting for us at the room.” ‘‘Oh, don’t tear yourself away like that,’’ interposed Chris, Pine himself between them and the door. ‘‘Have a drink with me. ‘We don’t drink,” spoke up Nanny, nervously: i We" are obliged to you, but——” that’s unfriendly between shipmates,’’ said Judson, winking. at the bartender. ‘‘Just give us four glasses anda bottle of your best bootleg, Tim.”’ ‘The fellow grinned and hastened to serve the order. Grat’s face flushed and he glanced defiantly at Judson and Chris. Grasping Nanny’s arm, he started toward the door. ‘‘We will not drink with you, he said, determinedly. ‘‘You will oblige us by letting us pass.”’ ‘“*T take that as an insult,’’? exciaimed Judson with a scowl. ‘‘I suppose you have been listening to Faraday’s teachings about. liquor. He’s a namby-pamby cad, and if the truth was known he takes a drink himself when there’s no one looking.”’ ‘“That’s not true, and if you say so you tell a lie,’’ suddenly spoke up Nanny, stepping away from Grat. ‘The lad’s face betok- ened his excitement. His eyes sparkled and he clinched both hands in an attitude of defiance. There was a moment of silence, then both Judson and Chris burst into laughter. ‘Why, the kid’s got a little spunk in him, after all,’’ cried the former... ‘He sticks up for his friend like a little mani He de- serves a drink for that, and I'll see that he takes it. Chris, look after the other while I make Nanny bee his promise to that cad, Faraday.’’ Spendly grappled with Grat, and Fadeou threw his left arm about Nanny’s neck. Then with his tight he held a glass of liquor to Nanny’s lips. © | “Drink, confound you,” he shouted. _ “Drink to the ‘bilging’ | of Clif Faraday. Drink fo Lhe a So, is ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. aL) Crash ! The door leading from the street flew back and an athletic youth with a handsome, resolute face leaped into the room. He took in the situation with one tapid glance, and the next second his hands were about Judson’s throat. ‘*You miserable coward,’’ he Sane. “That is your game, is ate? ‘Clif Faraday!’ cried Nanny. **Clif Faraday |’ echoed Grat Wallace. The name also came from Chris Spendly’s lips, but Judson said nothing. Drink and rage had fuli possession of him. He staggered back at the first shock, but recovering himself quickly, he grappled with the newcomer. ? Portugee Joe, the proprietor of the saloon, had gone out, but his bartender, a powerful Irishman, proceeded to quell the row. He scrambled across the bar and grasped the person nearest to him. It was Spendly. The lad attempted to expostulate, but before he could open his month he was sent flying through the door, forcing it outward with a crash. At that moment, as luck would have it, two officers from the Academy chanced to be passing. The uproar instantly attracted their attention, and they ran to the spot. The foremost, who was none other than the superintendent, glanced hurriedly into the room. What he saw caused him to up-. lift both hands in amazement. The scene was certainly surprising enough. He looked into a low room containing a bar, a sideboard filled with bottles and glasses, a chair or two, and.a group of struggling combatants. He saw a lad whom he had, only that morning, wel- comed to the Academy with words of praise, lift another by the shoulder and throat and throw him bodily across the bar. To him it was a common brawl in a low drinking resort. He was both shocked and pained to see that five of the candidates who had passed the examination that very morning should prove to be frequenters of such a den. _ The greatest blow, however, was to find that apparently the chief person in the disgraceful row was Clifford Faraday, the appointee from Hartford, whom he had prophesied would make a name for himself in the Academy. Not three hours before, at dinner, he had told to his guests, the commandant and senior medical officer, the story of Clifford Fara- day’s brave deed off the coast of Connecticut, when he had through his personal daring saved the life of Archie Bland, a naval cadet who had been injured 3 in a sham battle on Foster’s Island. He had added the details of Clif’s skill and marvelous courage in saving a schooner loaded with dynamite; and the senior medical officer had remarked on Clif’s magnificent physique and health. .’ And now to find him here fighting another candidate in a low aon fie akin den! The superintendent of the Naval Academy was a man true to his duty. He was firm in discipline, and unsparing of punishment when punishment was due. He turned to his companion, a com- mander from the training ship, and said sternly: ‘*You are witness to this, Hardy. ou can testify to the iden- tity of these brawlers. I will have them barred from the eee a. _|ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. CHAPTER Jil A HOPELESS PROSPECT. The appearance at the door of the two officers was quickly ob- served by those within. The superintendent was recognized at once. Clif was just in the act of forcing Judson Greene against the bar. Judson was fighting savagely; and nearby stood “Grat and Nanny preparing to defend themselves from the burly bartender, who was. on the point of treating them as he had Spendly. A cry came from Grat. ‘The superintendent !”? ‘The word was magical. Clif and Judson ceased their struggle, the bartender hastily re- treated to the other end of the room, and Grat and Nanny stared open-mouthed at the two officers in the doorway. ‘“What does this mean ?’’? demanded the elder officer, advancing into the room. ‘‘Isit possible that we find naval candidates en- gaged in a drunken brawl, and in a den like this >’? For a moment there was silence, then Judson began to mutter an apology. Clif hesitated, then he advanced and saluted respect fully. ‘I beg your pardon, sir,’’ he said, ‘‘but I wish you. would not judge us until you hear our explanation. We did not come in here to drink, but—-—”’ ‘‘Kvidently not,’’ interrupted the superintenent, sarcastically. ‘“Your appearance bears out your words.”’ The violent struggle with Judson had left its mark upon Clif His coat was torn, his hat was upon the floor, his necktie was dis- arranged, and he bore several bleeding scratches and bruises on his face. ‘*You say you have not been drinking, Mr. Faraday,’’ exclaimed the superintendent, ‘‘then why are you in this low place?”’ ‘tI do not care to explain, sir,’’ replied Clif, respectiully, but with determination., Captain Wainw.ight’s first feeling of anger had commenced to subside, but this apparently defiant reply to his question started the fires of his wrath again. Drawing himself up, he sternly ex- claimed: **Very well, sit. All present will report to me at my office to- motrow morning at ten. Commander Hardy, you will kindly be present as withess,”’ Both officers turned on their heels. Before they could leave the room Grat and Nanny sprang after them. ‘The former touched the superintendent’s sleeve and cried tearfully: ‘‘Let me explain, sir. J——”’ - “An investigation will be held in the morning,’’ coldly inter- ~ tupted Captain Wainwright. ‘'You can explain then.” y They passed on into the street, leaving the occupants of the i loon staring at one another, ‘The candidates soon left. ae ‘“That’s what I call the worst kind of hard luck,’’ exclaimed Nanny, after the three boys} had left the saloon. ‘The lad’s voice was so mournful that Clif \was compelled to smile. There was not much mirth in the smile, however. “TY say, Clif!’ murmured Grat. ‘Ves, chum.” ‘‘T am so sorry.”?. ARMY AND NAVY WERKLY. 23. **For what?’ Clif felt a hand clasp his, ae an arm was passed over his shoul- der. He felt the arm tremble, and he glanced at tne face near his. The light from a street lamp fell upon it, and something glistened on the “cheek. (Belay that, Grat,’’ said Cliff, softly. ‘It isn’t worth it, you know.”? Nanny, who was marching on in silence, realized that he had a choking sensation in his throat. He was a sympathetic little chap, and Grat’s tears called forth his own. ‘‘What’s happened. can’t be helped,’’ said Clif, after a while. ‘‘T guess we are spending our last days at Annapolis. ‘The superin- tendent is like iron when he makes up his mind.”’ ‘*You shan’t be blamed for that row,’’ cried Grat, passionately. *‘It was ail my fault and I’m going to Captain Wainwright and fot im. ii [ hadn't sone in there to get some: cigarettes it _wouldn’t have happened.”’ ‘*You are to blame for entering such a den, but what’s the use of kicking about it now. Cheer up, old fellow, and face the music like a man.”’ ’ don't care for myself. It’s you.”? ‘My shoulders are‘broad. Iam sorry the thing happened, and _ Thate to give up just as I am entering the Academy, but it has got to be done.’’ he ‘‘I am glad you gave that brute, Judson Greene, a licking,’ said Nanny. ‘‘It would have served him right if you had beaten his head off. He is.to blame for the whole thing.”’ ‘How did it happen ?’’ asked Clif, curiously. ‘‘I was walking toward Main Street when I heard loud words inside that den. Something in the tone of one of the voices seemed familiar, and I stopped. I heard Judson mention my name, then you cried out.’’ _**Nanny and I stopped in there to get—to get——.’? “Cigarettes. ”’ ‘‘Ye-es. I had just bought a package when Judson Greene and Chris Spendly stepped from the inner room. We had a few words, then Judson grabbed Nanny and tried to make him take a drink of whisky.’ ‘The miserable scoundrel. Iam glad I happened along, even if it does cost me my appointment.’ ‘‘Til see that it costs you nothing,’’? muttered Grat under his breath. ‘‘If there is.any justice in the Naval Academy you will re- ceive praise instead of blame.’’ A few moment later the boys reached their rooms. CHAPTER. LV, PLANNING A CAMPAIGN. When Judson Greene left the den he ‘found his crony, Chris Spendly, discreetly hiding behind a tree. A familiar whistle brought him from his place of concealment, and the twain hastily decamped from the neighborhood. Nothing was said between them until they gained their mutual apartment, a room in the dormitory attached to the Burbank pre- paratory school for cadets. **Blast and wither the whole outfit,’’ snarled Judson. ‘‘I’ve had _ nothing but a sore time of it since I struck the blamed town. And 24 ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. here I am in danger of being kicked out of the Academy before I enter it. 7! ‘IT say, Juddy, I guess the danger is real,’’ replied Spendly. He disconsolately lighted a short pipe and smoked in gloomy silence for a while. Judson produced a cigarette and kept him com- pany. Finally Spendly straightened up and said: ‘*Juddy, we’ve got to do something.’’ ‘(It’s easy enough to say that, but what can we do?” ‘The superintendent means business.’ Mire does.) ‘* Still he’s soft enough, I’ve heard.”’ ‘‘He caught us red-handed. It’s a sure case, I guess.’ ‘‘We must try to soften Captain Wainwright’s wrath.”’ **He’ll have everything cut and soe by morning.’’ ‘We mustn’t wait until] morning.’ Judson glanced across at the oe in surprise. ‘*Do you mean——’’ ‘(We will call on him to-night. An urgent request will get us admitted to the grounds. We’ll go to his house and cry a little, and beg a great deal. It’s worth trying, anyway. What do you gaye? \ “(Tt won’t do any harm, I guess,’’ finally replied Judson. ‘‘If he sees us we will offer him a ‘great cuffer about not knowing what the place was and all that rot. Come on; it’s almost nine.’’ Filled with the new idea they left the house and started toward the gate of the Naval Academy. In the meantime Clif and his companions had made their way to their quarters, which were at a boarding house known in Annapo- lis as ‘‘Mother’’ Sprague’s. It occupied the same relative position to the St. Jaines’ preparatory school as the dormitory, in which re- sided Judson and Chris, did to Burbank’s.”’ Clif and Grat roomed together, while Nanny occupied an apart- ment with another lad named Toggles. On opening his door Clif espied a figure clad in a naval cadet’s uniform curled up in an easy chair near the table. The figure un- curled and revealed a merry, good-natured face crowned with a mass of light curly hair. ‘““Gorry, what in the deuce are you doing out to-night?’ ex- claimed Clif; then he added severely: ‘‘You have been ‘frenching’ again, Archie Bland.” ; ‘“The accusation is correct, Clif,’ laughed the cadet. ‘‘I ‘frenched’ it on purpose to get a glimpse of you. Since the ex-: aminations commenced, I’ve not seen hide nor hair of you. ‘‘But what is the matter? Been sclapping again?’ ‘Pll explain later,’ replied Clif, tossing his hat upon the bed. ‘Hirst I will read you a lecture, my boy. How many times have I told you that you would come to erief if you persisted in stealing from the Academy grounds. You know perfectly well that you will be caught some day.”’ ‘“That reminds me,’’ grinned Apu ‘Sit down and I'll tell you what. happened to me at recitations to-day. It’s a great joke on old ‘Math’.’’ : ‘““We haven’t any time to listen to jokes now,’’ spoke up Grat, in such a grave tone that Archie stared at him in surprise. By ess what’s up?’ he asked, glancing from one to the ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. 25 other. ‘‘Come to think of it, you all look as if you were mourners at your own funeral.”? © ; ho" Vhat’s pretty near it,’ replied Clif. “We are mouruers at our own funerals, and the rider in the first carriage is our dead hopes. In other words, we’re in danger of losing our appointments.’ “What?” ‘*Fact. Just listen to our tale of woe.”’ With this preliminary Clif proceeded to explain the events of the evening. Archie’s eyes opened wider and wider as the narrative progressed, until at last he was a at the speaker in dum- founded amazement. ‘‘Do you mean tosay that you were scrapping with Judson Greene in ‘Portugee Joe’s’ ranch?’’ he gasped. i tives: d” ‘‘And the old man caught you??? : This time the ‘‘yes’’, was very mournful, and Clif and his two fellow culprits heaved deep sighs. Archie’s face lengthened and he relieved his feeling by a loud and expressive whistle. **It’s all day with us,’’ said Clif, regretfully. ‘*Captain Wain- wright looked mad clean through.”’ “Did you explain how you happened to bein there?’’ asked Archie, eagerly. ‘No. yd) i ‘*For heaven’s sake, why not?’ ‘Because he is the best fellow that ever'lived,’’? spoke up Grat, who had been pacing restlessly up and down the room. ‘‘He didn’t explain because he knew that he’d have to say that I was the cause Olt.” Archie fairly glared at Grat. ‘‘And you let ‘the superintendent go without clearing Clif?” he demanded. ‘‘Oh, he——”?’ began Clif. wte tried to, but ‘the captain wouldn’t listen, ” finished Nanny. He said he'd have to wait.’’ ‘Well, you should have followed him up and made him listen. To-morrow will be too late. Everything will be cut and dried by then——’’ Grat looked earnestly at Archie, then picked up his cap and walked toward the door. ‘‘Pve got an idea,’ he said. ‘‘Just wait until I come back.’? He passed out into the hall, down the stairs, and outside. Once clear of the house he started on a run for the Academy gate. ~ “V1 see the superintendent to-night if ve got to break into his house with an axe,’’ he muttered to himself. ‘‘Clif shall not be punished. No, not if I have to get down on my knees and beg for (niga)? Back in the room the three lads he had left continued their talk for a few moments, then Archie rose to his feet and said with more determination than he had ever shown before: “Clif, there’s only one way out of it. You say you won’t try to see the superintendent to-night, then you must get hold of Judson Greene and compel him to make a written confession that he was the cause of the whole business. He’ll do it rather than get licked, and I?ll see that it is sent to the old man before midnight. Come, we'll get several fellows and waylay Judson at once.”’ ‘‘T am afraid Judson will stand a good many lickings before he’ll 26 ARMY AND NAVY WEHEKLY. write such a thing as that,’’ replied Clif, quietly. ‘‘He isn’t a fool by any means. Such a confession would mean his instant dismis- — Sal,” : ‘‘But he’ll be fired anyway,’’ insisted Archie. “*Probably. And he’ll see that I go with him.’ Heis mean enough for that.’’ ‘“‘T say, Clif,’? spoke up Nanny. ‘6 Ves??? ‘ ‘‘T look at it this way. You can’t lose anything by adopting Archie’s plan, and you have all to gain. Ifhe refuses, you are no wotse off, and you have a faint chance of making him write the confession. Anyway’’—the boy clinched his fist and made a blow at an imaginary head—‘‘you’ll have the satisfaction of licking the stuffing out of him. I say, try it.”’ . ‘That’s sound logic,’’ said Archie, picking up his cap. ‘*Conie, Ohi ‘fAll right. But I do it to aan you,’’ replied Clif; ‘and ae: because I have any faith in the plan.”’ A few minutes later the three boys were looking for Judson Greene. CHAPTER \. GRAD Sp Aw, _ At about that time Grat Wallace was approaching the Naval Academy gate. ‘The distance from ‘‘Mother’’ Sprague’s to the Academy was fully ten squares, and it had. taken him several min- utes to cover it. : He found the usual sentry on guard. ‘The marine halted ho and curtly asked his business. ‘‘T have an important appointment with Captain Wainwcgie 7 replied Grat, adding to himslf: ‘‘No need of telling him that it’s for ten o ‘clock to-morrow morning.’’ ‘The sentry called the corporal on duty and refeired Get to him. ‘The non-commissioned officer glanced keenly at the lad un- der the light and asked rather suspiciously : ‘¢Ain’t you one of the new candidates ?”’ Grat nodded. : “‘T thought so. So you have an appointment with the superin- tendent at this hour, eh? He did not leave any word at the gate. You know it is strictly against the rule to let persons not stationed here pass after nine o’clock. What is up with you candidates, anyway? ‘I'wo others were here on the same errand not five min- utes ago.”’ ‘(Two others??? echoed Grat, eagerly. ‘‘Was one of them a stocky, well-built fellow dressed in a light check ?”’ Mes: »? ‘It was Judson Greene,’’? muttered Grat. ‘‘He and Spendly ‘ate trying to see the superintendent. If they get ahead of us they’ll hurt Clif’s edse.”’ ‘Did they go in?” he asked aloud. The corporal smiled and shook his head. : ‘“No, I was compelled to refuse them also. What is the mat- ter? Any trouble?”’ Grat returned an evasive reply and turned on his heel. He had — an idea. It was a desperate one, but the case was desperate. The ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. 27 knowledge that Judson and Spendly were on the same mission spurred him to renewed exertions. ‘‘T must see Captain Wainwright come what will,’? he mur- mured. ‘‘This.thing has got to be settled to-night. Clif shall not be punished. No, not if I have to crawl on my knees before tne Secretary ol the Navyy.”? . Grat Wallace was light hearted and rather rattle brained by na- ture. He had his bad habits, and he was rather inclined to mild dis- sipation, but beneath it all he was honest and true. He had taken a great liking to Clif Faraday. He admired Clif for his manly ways and his sturdy, uprigiit nature. He admired him above all for a certain serene courage which seemed to rise above petty details and fears. He knew that Clif’s sole ambition was to become a commissioned ofacer in the United States Navy. He knew that the lad had striven and worked and schemed for many~- weary months to obtain -~ that end, and he realized full well that to fail now when his foot was upon the first rung of the ladder leading to the coveted goal would be abitter blow. Yet in face of this Clif had that very night _ risked his ambition to save him. Grat clinched his hands and hurried down aside street leading to another part of the Academy wall. His resolution was made to en- ter the grounds at all hazards, and to beard the superintendent in his house. Archie Bland had shown him a place where scape-grace cadets ‘‘frenched it’? at night. Grat chuckled as he reached the spot, which was in the shadowy part of a little lane leading along the wall. ‘“This is funny,’’ he murmured. ‘‘People have broken out here, but I guess this is the first time——”’ A heavy hand was laid upon his shoulder, and he felt himself forced around. The darkness was not too great to prevent him rec- ognizing his assailant. It was Judson Greene; and Chris Spendly was standing nearby! _) **Blamed if it ain’t Grat Wallace,’’ exclaimed Judson, tighten- ing his grasp on his captive. ‘‘Chris, we’re in luck. The begger must be bound on the same trip as we. Catch him by the collar.’’ ‘Going to enter the grounds, eh?’’ growled Spendly, obeying his companion’s request. ‘‘Well, we'll see about that. I suppose you thought you’d get in a word or two for yourself ahead of the others.’ ‘*Release me, you cowards,’’ cried Grat, struggling to free him- self. ‘Steady there; you won’t get away from us so easy,’’ sneered Judson. ‘‘We’ll settle accounts with you first. Chris, hold him while I punch his face.’ ‘It takes two of you to do it,’’ retorted Grat, wriggling in their grasp like a huge eel. ‘‘And you are not so sure about it, either. Whoop! Whoop-p-p!’’ His voice rang out through the darkness so shrill and loud that Judson involuntarily released his hold. Grat swung around and let drive at Spendly. The blow, delivered haphazard, chanced to reach its mark and Chris staggered back against the wall. The next instant Grat was darting up the lane as fast as his legs could carry him. He had not gone far when he collided with some one in the gloom. A hand clutched at his arm, but he slipped free. 28 ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. ‘‘No you don’t,’’ he ctied. ‘This is a game I am familiar with.”’ ‘‘Grat Wallace!’ replied a familiar voice. ‘‘What on earth are you doing here?’ It was that of Clif Faraday! Just then Judson and Spendly, swearing with rage, came run- — ning up. Judson bumped into Clif and Chris almost stumbled into Archie Bland’s. arms. No time was wasted in explanations. The situation and the fact that their fighting blood was already at a boiling point precipitated a row in short order. Grat, crouch- ing in the darkness not far away, heard the sounds of conflict and he grinned with joy. ‘'Clif and Archie will knock the stuffing out of them,’’ he mut-.. tered. ‘‘And in the meantime I’1] interview the superintenent.”’ Retracing his steps down the lane he found the spot used by cadets, and was soon inside the Academy grounds. As he stole through the gloom he caught faint but unmistakable noises which indicated that the battle on the other side of the wall was still raging. CHAPTER INA, CLIF’S GENEROSITY. ‘‘A young man to see me? Who is he and what does he want?’ ‘I do not know, sir. He wouldn’t state his business, but he insists that it’s very important, sir.” “Well, show him in.” Captain Wainwright had just bidden good-by to a visiting friend when one of his servants announced that a youth was at the door. With a sigh the officer laid down his paper and ee. to be both- ered. He glanced up as the visitor was ushered into the room, then © rose to his feet with an exclamation of surprise. He saw "before him a lad with disordered clothing and a face scratched and grimy as if from some rough and tumble fight. The face: was bright and intelligent, though, and it vaguely ‘occurred to the captain nee be was familiar. ‘The newcomer spoke first. Advancing he said respectfully: ‘‘T sincerely beg your pardon, sir, but I couldn’t wait. There was no other way, sir.’’ ‘What in the dev—who are you and what are you talking about ?”? ‘‘Iam one of the fellows you saw in Portugee Joe’s to-night, sir. My name is Grat Wallace and I passed the Academy examina- tion to-day.”’ The superintendent sank back in his chair and fairly gasped for breath. The servant, who had been lingering near the door, con- cealed a grin and discreetly withdrew. His long experience at the Academy had taught him to expect almost anything from a boy. ‘‘And you mean to tell me that you have forced your way in here?’’? demanded the captain. ‘‘How did you get past the corporal at the gate? If he pened you to enter I'll have him pun- | ished.”? ‘‘He did not, sir; I climbed the wall,’’ replied Grat, naively. He added imploringly : ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY 20) ‘‘I wish you would listen to me, sir. I have taken great aoe in entering these grounds to-night, and I know I will be punished, but I don’t ¢are. I have something io tell you, and I would swim the Severn to do it. When you saw us in that den to-night you thought we were all drinking there. Itis not true, sir. I: “went in . with a friend to buy a package of cigarettes and while in there we met two others. They interfered with us and my companion cried out. Clif Faraday was passing at the time and he heard it. He came in justin time to help us. That is why he was in there, and ii’s the whole truth, sir. Please believe me.”’ Grat paused for breath. Captain Wainwright motioned him to a chair, and stared keenly at him for a moment. ‘Then he asked, slowly and deliberately : ‘‘And you climbed the wall and dodged the sentries for the sole purpose of pleading for your friend, Clif Faraday ?”” Grat nodded emphatically. ~**T would do more than that for him, sir,’? he replied. ‘‘He is the whitest boy in Annapolis. Why, he could have cleared himself to-night in the saloon, you know. You asked him for an explana- tion, but he wouldn’t give it because he would have been com- pelled to tell you that I was in there buying cigarettes, and Judson Greene——’”’ Grat paused in confusion. ‘That peculiar trait inherent in most lads which makes tale-bearing cdious, restrained him from giving Judson and Spendly’s share in the episode. Captain Wainwright's experience with cadets and boys of all classes caused him to thor- oughly understand the lad before him. Although he rather admired Grat for his reluctance to expose his companions, he had his duty to perform. _‘*The name you have just mentioned, Judson Greene; what was he doing in that den?’ he asked, pitilessly. “*V’d—I’d rather not tell, sir.’ PWery well, If you refuse to enlighten me I'll not: have any consideration for your friend, Clif Faraday. 2 Poor Grat’s face fell, and he gave the superintendent a pleading look. ‘Please don’t refuse, sir,’) he. exclaimed, almost in ° tears. ‘Clif is innocent and he must not be punished. Youcan keep me moi euteting the Acadeniy, sir. Im guilty.. Clit told. me that those miserable cigarettes would lead me into trouble, and they did. I’m the cause of it all.. Won’t you please forgive Clif?’ The captain’s heart was kind. The memory of his boyhood days when he had passed through the Academy, was strong, and he felt himself yielding. It would not do, for the sake of discipline, to sutrender too easily, however. Rising to his feet, he said gruffly: poe Call my orderly and tell him to conduct you to the gate. Ill take the matter in hand and render a decision to-morrow at ten, That will do.”’ | When Grat had disappeared Captain Wainwright sat back in his easy chair and laughed until the tears came to his eyes. Such an experience had never occurred to him in all his years of service. And through his mirth ran a thread of admiration and respect for both Grat and Clif. When Grat finally reached home his loyal heart was Ciibewhee 30 ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. lighter than when he had left on his momentous expedition, He found Clif, Nanny and Archie in the room. All three bore evi- dences of their tussle in the lane. oS Nanny and Archie coldly ignored Grat’s salutation, and Clif — seemed greatly pained and depressed for some reason. Grat’s astonishment at such a chilling reception was manifest. He tossed, his cap upon the bed and whistled. ‘‘What is the matter with you fellows?’ he asked. ‘‘Did Jud- son and Spendly lick you ?’’ ‘‘No, but it wasn’t your fault,’’ retorted Archie, with a scowl. ‘“‘T never thought it of you, Grat,’’ added Clif, sorrowfully. ‘Thought what ?’? “I considered that you had soine pluck, anyway,”’ spoke up lit- tle Nanny. ‘What in the deuce——’’ began Grat, then he burst into laugh- ter. He understood at last. The trio thought he had run away during the fight in the lane. ‘the joke was rich. — He was on the point of explaining, but he checked himself just in time. No, he would wait until morning and overwhelm them with confusion and repentance in the very presence of the superin- tendent. He drew a long face and sat down without a word. His silence was regarded as a:confession of guilt, and his three companions im- mediately proceeded to make it warm for him. ‘“You needn’t think your cowardice cuts any ice with us,’ ex- claimed Archie, resentfully. ‘‘We didn’t do a thing but knock the socks off those two chumps. And Nanny never had to raise his hand either. We chased Greene and Spendly clear down to the railway station, and they only got away by dodging in the darkness. — But you are a beaut. How long do you think you will last in the Academy? If this affair gets out your life here won’t be much, I can tell you. There isn’t any room for cowards ih the Naval Acadeny.””’ Clif walked over and sat down next to Grat. He placed one hand upon his shoulder and whispered softly : : ‘‘What does all this mean, old fellow? I know you well enough _to feel assured that you are no coward. Explain this mystery, will you. Where did you go?”’ Grat almost surrendered. His love for a joke kept his tongue silent, however, and he turned his face away from Clif. ‘Ten min- utes later Archie left on his way to the Academy. The following morning at ten found the outer office of the su- perintendent filled with candidates in readiness to take the cath of allegiance and report themselves for final admission. Judson and Spendly, downcast and sullen, were early in making their appearance. Clif, Grat and Nanny took their seats near the door. Grat found it difficult to keep a straight face. Presently the orderly called the names of Clif, Judson, Nanny, Grat and Spendly and bade them enter the inner office. The super- intendent, grim and dignified, was awaiting them. He’gave Judson and Spendly a stern glance, and said: ‘‘Vou five candidates have been guilty of an offence which should prevent your admission to the Naval Academy. We have > no room here for brawlers and sporty lads. Last night I found you in the worst den in Annapolis. Your very presence there was a dis- grace to this Academy and yourselves. I feel that I should’ punish “ 7 7 ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. st you. Certain circumstances have come to my knowledge, however, and I will hold the matter under advisement for the present.’’ He turned to Clif and added more kindly: “Vast night one of your number—a lad who is undoubtedly your good friend—came to my house under most extraordinary cir- cumstances, and pleaded for you. He stated what I believe to be the truth of this case. It seems that you went into the saloon to render assistance to a friend who was calling for help. The act does you credit, and I fully absolve you from all blame in the matter. As for you,’’ he said to Judson and. Spendly, wheeling upon them suddenly, ‘‘as for you, Iam minded to lay your cases before the authorities at Washington. I fully believe that you were in that den for the purpose of drinking. If that is a proof of your charac- ter we do not want you here.”’ Clif, who had been looking in bewilderment from. the superin- tendent to Grat, suddenly approached the desk and said respect- fully: ‘‘T thank you, sir, for your kindness. I see now that my friend, Mr. Wallace, has told you the truth. But may I plead for the others as he has pleaded for me? I feel assured, sir, that this will be a lesson to all. J am sure you will not regret it if you show len- iency to Mr. Greene and Mr. Spendly.’’ Silence followed this generous request for fully a moment, then Captain Wainwright held out his hand to Clif. ‘*By George! this is noble of you, my boy,’’ he exclaimed. or have heard that both those you mention have been enemies of yours. I know more than you imagine about your experience with | them. It shows your fine nature, sir. Iam proud of you, and I* will do as you ask. But I will have a word in private’ with. them first. Kindly wait in the other office.”’ Five minutes later Judson and Spendly emerged from the inner room with their faces aflame with shame. ‘The superintendent stood in the door and watched them as they walked over to where Clif was sitting. Judson glanced back once, then he awkwardly held out his ane to Clif and “muttered something that sounded like a half-hearted apology. Spendly followed suit. And the other candidates in the room marveled greatly as they saw Clif rise to his feet, and cordially return the grasp and heard him say: ‘“That’s all right. Say no more about it, please. We are to be shipmates for a long time and we can’t afford to be enemies. We'll let bygones be bygones from now on.”’ But, as it came to pass, Clif’s generosity bore little fruit. [THE END. ] In No. 6, Army and Navy Weekly, out next week, will be found ‘‘A Naval Plebe’s Experience; or, Clif Faraday at Annapo- lis,” by Emsion Clarke Fitch, U. S. N. IN THE NICK OF TIME. By D. H. PARRYs a ae ‘6s A HORSE-HAIR LARIAT. . . . CHAPTER I. R. IGNATIUS P. CHUNK stood a trifle over five feet nine in his socks; he was not a handsome mau, in fact ~ there was nothing in his face to attract . attention, beyond a. long, wide- bridged nose, which indicated power, and a pair of grave, brown eyes, that fixed you earnestly when he spoke. His strong point, however, lay in one direction; he knew probably more about silver mining than any two men in the United States put together; and that was why, on a certain morning last year, Mr. Igna- tius P. Chunk stood in the presence of the directors of the Santa Gloria Mine in their brass-bound, mahogany- fitted offices in New York city. “You know our difficulty, Mr. Chunk,’’ said one of the directors; ‘‘the late overseer has robbed us for years; the new overseer has attempted new methods, which, very well in themselves, are injudicious toa degree at the present moment. There are large arrears due to the men, which in the present state of ferment down there, it would be unwise to remit; and, in a word, we want you to go down into Mexico, bring the weight of your great experience in such matters to JERKED HIM OUT OF THE SADDLE.”’ bear, and settle the affair for the mutual benefit of all concerned. Will you do it?’’ Ignatius P. Chunk looked straight at the speaker for several ticks of the clock, and the other directors re- garded him with something like bated breath. So much depended upon his reply. “The output for some time has been practically nil?’’ he said. © The spokesman nodded. “Tf it isn’t set to rights it’]1 be practically niller?’’ suggested the expert, coining a word for the occasion. The chief spokesman admitted that the probabilities were all in that direction. ‘¢ And my profit on the undertaking will be——”’ ‘¢ A thousand dollars,’’ said the capitalist, rolling out a sum unctuously, to making it seem as large as pos- sible. Mr. Chunk affected to examine a large map on the wall as though he had never seen the pictorial present- ment of Mexico before, and then he said gently: ‘“The boys have been out on the rampage since last fall, I take it?”’ ‘(They bave,’’ replied the chief director. ‘‘They were a bit playful with the last overseer— ee him in oil and put him near a lighted match, eh?’ ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. ae The director shuddered, and made agesture of assent. ** Yes, so I’ve been told,’’ said Mr, Chunk, straight- ening himself and facing around. ce: **¥You see, gentlemen, it’s a risky thing you’re pro- posing; it’s over two thousand miles journey into the bargain. I may right it, I may frizzle; but J’ll risk that, and these are my terms, acceptor leave it, as you think fit; five hundred dollars down _for.expenses, five thousand for the job if I settle it O. K.” They knew the man they were dealing with, they knew the difficulties of the position. In half an hour Ignatius P. Chunk buttoned up his agreement and the check for expenses, shook hands with the board, and was walking to the cars, which were to carry him on a mission of deadly peril, into the most lawless portion of the uncivilized globe, and from which mission it was highly probable he would never return, In due course, Mr. Chunk, dressed in a loose over- coat, with a navy revolver reposing at the bottom of the inside breast pocket, and carrying a small port- manteau, or, as he would have called it, a gripsack, in his hand, alighted at a little frontier town, and sought the shelter of an hotel after the days and nights of jolting in the tran. ‘‘] want to buy a horse in the morning,’’ he said to the proprietor. ‘‘Can you put me on tosomething de- cent that’ll carry me to Santa Gloria?’’ ‘ _ ‘*¥ou’re not going up to-morrow, boss?’’ said the fandlord. : ‘tT am,’’ replied Mr. Chunk. ‘*Why?’’ _ §°Cos the Apaches are out ’tween there and yon, that’s why.”’ _ **Been out long?’’ queried the expert. “Bout a week; maybe they’ll stop out another four,’’ said the landlord. ‘‘If you know anything of them varmints you’ll rest here a spell.’? _ ‘Jil stay here a spell,’’ said Mr. Ignatius P. Chunk, who did know something of the Apaches, having met them in Arizona, and had no wish to renew the ac- quaintance. ets _ Jt was six weeks before his spell came to an end,.and one afternoon, after a dreary ride of seventy miles over the llanos, he reached Santa Gloria and braced himself for the work in hand. g Tying his horse to a ring in the door-post of a wood- en building, he unfastened his gripsack from the sad- dle and went in, after reading the painted legend — daubed along the front of the house: ‘*Ginger Wilkin’s Immortal Drug Store—don’t go up street to that other feller’s show, he sells pison!’? It transpired afterward that the ‘other feller’ having resented the notice as personal and offeasive, had come down one day with a six-shooter to protest, but Ginger Wilkin had got the first draw on him, and had attended the funeral to show he bore the dead man no animosity; after which the Immortal Drug Store stood - alone, and throve exceedingly. Ignatius P. Chunk en- tered quietly, and found himself in a large room, with some twenty miners lounging at the plank tables, the roughest set of men he had yet seen in the whole range of his experience. English, Americans, Mexicans, half-breeds, an Opata Indian, a Swede—verily a strange mixture of national- ities, and still stranger types of each. The bar-keeper, in his shirt-sleeves, looked inquiringly at the traveler, who walked calmly up to him and put his gripsack on the counter. ‘‘Can I have aroom? I’m stopping here for a few “Gays on business,’? he said. : ~**Yes, you can havea room,’’ said Ginger Wilkin. '**Are you a salesman, or gambusino, or what are your’? Re ‘Bit of everything,’’ said Mr. Chunk, pleasantly. Just now I’m a walking sand-hill, and should like a wash.?? : “ : _ Alad serving in the bar showed the expert upa - rickety flight of stairs to his room; and when he had removed the travel stains and refreshed himself by dip- ping his head several times into the basin, Mr. Ignatius } P. Chunk examined his revolver carefully, arranged itso that he could draw in the twinkling of an eye, and went down again with a firm step, and once more entered the saloon. _ == He had noticed that while the miners sat in little groups, talking, playing cards, and disporting them- seives joyously as in a land where there is neither law nor order, one man remained apart at a table by him- self, and that man was the roughest of them all. > Hair, beard and mustache ran wild about his face; to say that he was unwashed would be to put it mildly; rents in his rust-colored shirt revealed strong sinewy arms, which were folded squarely on the table, anda big knife was stuck in his hip-belt, along with an © enormous revolver. *¢You’re the worst of the lot,’? said Mr. Chunk to himself as he went up stairs, and he saw that the man sat in the same place when he returned. . Ignatius P. Chunk strolled carelessly to the bar, and, passing a youngish fellow who was lighting a pipe, he sniacked him cordially on the shoulder, saying briskly, ‘‘Will you have a drink with me??? to which the other, after a cool stare, assented with a lazy in- difference, which did not augur well for Mr. Chunk’s opening start. : : It took the concentrated essence of two gin-slings to awaken anything like communicativeness on the young man’s part, but by degrees Mr. Chunk gleaned a few particulars of the exact state of things as they then stood, all the while feeling that the whole of that law- less gang was viewing him with ill-disguised suspicion as it sat in silence. ‘*Ask your mates if they will have a drink with me,’’ said the diplomatist suddenly, at which Ginger Wilkin, knowing the habits of his customers, bright- ened up considerably, and prepared to anticipate their several wants; but the offer was accepted reluctantly, and half a dozen of the discontented miners remained where they were, the solitary man amongst them. It was certainly unpromising: the knot of miners who came forward did not drink with any degree of heartiness, and just as Mr. Chunk was about to try the effect of a second glass all around, the solitary man got up and slouched to the bar, saying. in a sullen grumble to the others: ‘*What does this yaller gizzard want ’ere?’? Mr. Chuuk put down a cigar he was smoking, and saw that the ruffian was elbowing his way stealthily toward him, muttering and whispering to the others, who drew back to let him pass. He approached so slowly, and without once looking at the great mining authority, that a casual observer would not have perceived his object; but then Ignatius P, Chunk was by uo means a casual observer, and when the great hulking lout had wormed his way to within one man’s distance, Mr. Chunk put that man suddenly on one side before any one knew what he was about, and, covering the scoundrel with his revolver, exclaimed in a tremendous voice: ‘*Up with your hands!—put ’em up!—higher !—that’s better. Now, move a finger-nail, and you’re dead as George Washington !”’ A profound silence ensued, : Every one had fallen back instinctively, and the ex- pert stood alone confronting the loafer, whose brawny arms were raised aboye his disheveled head into the space before the counter. ‘“*Call me a ‘yaller gizzard,’ do you?’’ said Ignatius P. Chunk, scathingly. ‘*Well, I’ve been in most every mine in Colorado, an’ Arizona, an’ Californy. In fact, there ain’t a claim I don’t believe but I’ve visited from here to the North Star; yet it ’u’d bother me to name your color, ye dirty-hided coyote! Hands up, I tell you! I mean it,’’? anda dangerous dight shone in Mr. Chunk’s eyes. ; ‘¢Boys,’? he said, keeping his gaze on the loafer, and addressing the others, who never moved a muscle, but stood watching this dramatic situation with absorbing interest; ‘‘boys, I’ve come down here fora purpose, and I reckon this scum of the earth twigged it, I’ve come to settle the disputes that keep you all idle and getting poorer every day. I’ve come to see you righted and bring you your money when things are squared up. You want to work; this hound doesn’t. I know him now as he stands there; he’s seen me before, in Pike’s Peak County. Speak truth, Rufe Dolloger; you know Ignatius P. Chunk, eh?’’ The man was ashy white, and glared hideously at the expert; but the tables were turned. The rough fellows crowded around him. One took his: revolver away, another the big knife; every‘one tried to shake hands at once with the bold Mr. Chunk, and _in the confusion Rufe Delloger slipped from the store. . Ignatius P. Chunk came out strong in the settlenient of the dispute at the Santa Gloria; his absolute fair- ness and his great knowledge of the technicalities of silver mining won him the good will of every man #nere, and in less than a week overseer, manager, and 34 miner were on the best of terms once more. The money had been telegraphed for; it came, and was duly dis- tributed. and after the intrepid American had been feted and back-slapped until he was absolutely sore, the entire camp rode fifty miles over the llanos with him on his return journey. : CHAPTER II. A dreary waste of sunburnt desert stretched to the horizon on every side. A few palmillas anda prickly cactus were the only . signs of life that met the eye of Mr. Chunk as he can- tered along toward the haunts of civilization, some- where away youder in the blue distance. The track was tolerably distinct, and being very satisfied at the conclusion of his mission, and still more so that his skin remained intact, he lifted up a thin, unmelodious voice and sang. Heonly knew three songs, and he sang them all in a line, and when he had finished, just as he rede into a dip of the plain, he started on the first one again, and got half through it. A horse-hair lairat cannot reasonably be expected to show any respect for the musician’s art, and it wasa horse-hair lariat that caught Ignatius P. Chunk under the arm-pits, jerked him out of the saddle, and laid him senseless and bleeding on the lonely Uanos at the fest of Rufe Dolloger, his mortal foe. “(T?ve waited a considerable spell fur yer,’’ said Mr. Dolloger, kicking the helpless man savagely, ‘‘an’ now, I reckon, it’s my lead!” When the unhappy Chunk opened his eyes he exper- ienced the most fearful sensation that ever falls to the lot of mortal man. wor He was buried alive in the sand, up to his neck in a standing posture, and his heart died out in an agony of despair. Nor was that all. Around his neck a tether-rope had been fastened, and at the other end Dolloger’s lean bronco stood five yeards away. ‘¢1t’s all up with me!’’ gasped the poor fellow, fixed - in the trampled earth as immovably as if in a block of marble, ‘‘Heaven help me, I’m done for!"’, And the sun dipped, fiery red, below the level of the plain. The bronco stood quite still, and as long as he could seé him the doomed expert glared at the animal with a dreadful fascination, as a criminal will at the execu- tioner who is about to carry out the last sentence of the law. Presently the rope tightened as the starved pony began to browse. ; ‘*Whoa! stop! cabalitto querido!’’ shrieked the man, & & a AL EU eS OC KOO A SN“ K 2. ae GILBERT, KA ; OS. ee ) TH A OK ay { v 29 OK CH * \ DAE CHAPTER XXV. CAPTAIN BARTON’S DEFEAT. @)EANWHILE Gilbert and his companion 4} were making rapid headway toward the hills. Knowing that they would be obliged to camp out at least one night. on the way to the fort, they decided to }} halt in the canyon where Gilbert had nen found the boys. Of course the young trapper had to go all over his story again for Uncle Jack’s benefit, and the ranchman showed as deep au interest inthe recital as his nephews did. ; He perfectly agreed with Gilbert thatif the latter gould only get hold of the rest of the papers, or secure TRAP By CAPTAIN C, B. ASHLEY. ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. trying to-catch the rope jim his teeth, as his neck was wrenched violently. a The bronco stood still again, wincing in anticipation - a of the blow which it associated indissolubly with the sound of a human voice; but feeling nothing, it con- tinued to crop the withered herbage in a circle around the man’s head, and for the long hours of that hideous night Ignatius P. Chunk endured torments passing all belief. As dawn broke, a wrench, more severe than any of the others, deprived him of sense again, and the bronco lay down shortly afterward in the warm sunshine. e © e . Rufe Dolloger. the saloon-keeper of the frontiertown _ and a deputy marshal were having an argument about a horse. **T tell you I sold.it ten. days ago to that Yankee that’s been putting things straight up yonder,’’ and the saloon-keeper jerked his head toward the desert lain. : : ‘‘an? I tell yer I bought him at Arispe last fall,” snarled Dolloger, who had made a bad move by riding into that place with a good horse and no shirt worth mentioning. Another marshal came lounging down the street, and when the saloon-keeper saw him, he called out, ‘‘Juarez, ever see this horse before??? Whereupon the ¥ ofticer crossed over, heard Dolloger’s version, examined the horse, winked at his comrade, and knocked the thief clean out of the saddle by a peculiar blow deliy-- ered under the ribs. ; : That was. why three men took the road Gloria at sunrise the next morning, officers, and the other Rufe Dolloger. When they had gone twenty miles over they spied a bronco standing alone; and, with a diabol- ical expression in his face, Dolloger sent a shrill whis- tle from his cracked lips, which was instantly stifled by Juarez. The bronco trembled and stood still. With swollen head, and eyes half closed from the bites of the myriad - insects swarming in the sand, Ignatius P. Chunk heard the whistle, and hope, then at its last gasp, revived as the horsemen approached. : to Santa two of them ‘*What! go to Mexicé again?’’ exclaimed Mr. Chunk to me a few days ago, for there is some truth in this _ story, I assure you. ‘‘See here—the whole thing was. © bad enough—the bar-roum, the burying alive, and all ~ that; but the thing that makes me tremble whenever I think of it was the lynching of that poor brute of a Dolloger after they got him up to the mine—phew! the way they did it!’’ And Ignatius P. Chunk broke into a profuse perspir- ation. a isos KA NAL SNA * & i ar cH ER, —. o, THE HEIR IN BUCKSKIN. __ KL 1 NA J Beene A, REORDER AELIE acopy of them, he would have plain sailirg before him. The trader could not read them, that was evi- dent, or else he would not have waited so long before taking possession of the nuggets and dust that were concealed in Sweetwater Canyon. Gus Warren, Uncle the llanos “ if { J Jack declared, was the only person on the reservation —4@ who could make sense out of that cryptogram. Perhaps ¢ we shall see that the confident old ranchman madea — great mistake when he said this. a os a At four c’clock the next afternoon the stockade that — was known far and near as Fort Shaw was in plain sight. Uncle Jack and his young associate must have made up their minds just what to do whe they got there, for without stopping to exchange a word wif each other, they rode at once to the trader’s store, anv dismounted in front of it. Leaving his horse to take | ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. ~ 2 35 care of himself, Gilbert pushed open the door and en- tered, with Uncle Jack Waldron close at his heels. Captain Barton was alone in the store—or at least they thought he was; butif there had been a dozen men present, it would not have made the last difference to Gilbert the trapper. He had come there after those papers, and he meant to have them before he went out again. When Uncle Jack closed the door he turned the key ie the lock, while Gilbert kept on and confronted the rader. ‘*‘Captain Barton,’’ said he, in his blandest tones, ‘'I understand that you have in your possession copies of certain documents which are of no interest or value to you, but which contains some information that it is im- portant forme to know. Will you be kind enough to hand them over to me? What in the world can be the matter with him, | wonder?’’? added Gilbert to himself. ‘*He trembles like a leaf. He must have seen us coming and known by the way we rode that our errand boded no good to him.’’ . That was the secret of the trader’s agitation, and it was also the reason why Pete’ Axley, who was in the store with him, and who knew that there was no possible chance for him to escape from the building without being seen, dodged under one of the counters and pulled a pile of skins on top of him. ; Captain Barton looked at Gilbert, who was appar- eutly as calm asa summer’s morning, then at the de- termined old man who stood with his back against the door and his revolver in his hand, and instantly decided upon his line of defense. |. **f am sure I don’t know what you mean,’’ he began; and Gilvert’s right hand went around. to the butt of his own revolver. ‘‘I have the copy of a letter here with the name of ‘Gilbert’ upon it, but whether or not itis anything iu which you are interested I do not know, J will gladly show it to you——”’ “You mean that you will give it to me,’’ inter- posed Gilbert. ‘‘It belongs to me, and you know it well enough,’’ While the trader was talking he moved down the store toward his desk, and Gilbert stepped behind the counter and followed him. **You have copies of two papers that belong to ame,’? said the latter, in a quiet, even voice which alarmed his listener not a Httle. ‘‘One isa letter written in plain Hnglish, and the other is one that you haven’t been able to make out yet. I[f you had, _ you would have been after that money in Sweetwater Canyon before this time.’’ The hand with which the trader lifted the lid of his desk trembled visibly, while the concealed listener under the counter was so astounded that he could hardly refrain from giving utterance to the oath that arose to his lips. At that moment Pete Axley would willingly have given his share of the dust and nuggets to any one who would tell him where Gilbert the trapper got all his information. Captain Barton did. not say a word. He dared not trust himself to speak, and besides be knew that Gil- bert would not believe a word he said. The. boy’s eyes had a savage glitter in them, and the trader could not help wondering what he would do when he got the coveted papers in his hands. Almost overcome with amazement and alarm, Cap- tain Barton laid the lid of his desk against a pile of goods that were stowed upon the counter, raised a package of letters in one corner, took ont an envelope and was about to pass it to Gilbert when he saw with added astonishment that it was not the one he wanted. Hurriedly he tumbled over the letters, and just as Gilbert was expecting to hear him declare that the papers of which he was in search had been abstracted from his desk he picked up another envelope and handed it over with the remark that that was the one be was looking for and that it had been mislaid. _ Then it was Gilbert’s turn to show excitement. He | ‘read the letter without the least trouble but the cryp- ~ togram bothered him just asit had bothered the trader. ‘‘Mr. Waldron,’’ said he, ‘‘will you be good enough _tostep this way a moment? I want to be sure that [ have got what I want.’’ - Before Uncle Jack left the door he took the precau- tion to put the key into his pocket. Then he walked up te the counter and placed his pistol upon it within easy reach of his hand. He looked sharply at both the apers and finally gave it as his opinion that they « r were true copies of the-originals, “Then we have nothing further to do here,’ said Gilbert, whose self-control was wonderful. ‘‘Captain, we will bid you good-day. I suppose this is a great surprise to. you, and a disappointment as well. Of course I feel very grateful toward you for attempting to defraud me ot my rights.’’ ‘But I don’t!?’? roared Uncle Jack, pounding upon the counter with the butt of his heavy revolver and leaving a huge dent after each blow. ‘‘if I wasn’t opposed to all such doings {i would raise such a row about this business that all the blue coats on the re- servation couldn’t protect you—you—you——”’ Utterly at a loss for a word strong enough to express his contempt for the cringing man on the other side of the counter, Uncle Jack shook his fist in his face, turned on his heel and started for the door. CHAPTER XXXVI. THE JOURNEY TO SWEETWATER CANYON, ‘*Nevins Nevins!’’ murmured Gilbert the trapper, as he and Uncle Jack Waldron galloped away from the trader’s store. ‘‘My name isGilbert Hubbard Nevins.”’ ‘*So it seems,’’ replied his companion... ‘‘Buckskin Bob could not tell the truth even when he thought he was going to die could he? I knew he was deceiving me, and that the Utes were responsible for the death of fhose miners as wellas [I know it now; but I could not prove it. I believed that time would make every-: thing straight.’’ ‘‘1?ve got the papers,’’ said Gilbert gleefully; ‘‘and now all that remains is for me to open that cache.’’ ‘(Tf this turns out all right I shall always bless the day I fired that lucky shot up there in the canyon,’’ thought Uncle Jack, allowing his gaze to rest fora moment on Gilbert’s glowing face. ‘‘But there’s many a slip—there’s many a slip.”’ The miles that lay between Fort Shaw and Uncle Jack’s ranch seemed to have lengthened out since the last time they passed over them; butin due season they drew reinin front of its hospitable doors and found Gus and Jerry Warren waiting to welcome them. There was no need forthe boys to askif they had succeeded in getting the papers, for the smile on Gil- bert’s face and Uncle Jack’s answered the question while it was trembling 6n their Hps. ‘¢Were—er—did he hand them over without making any objections?’’ inquired Jerry, leading the way into the house. ‘¢+He was as peaceable and quiet as a lamb,’’ replied Uncle Jack, as he drew a chair up in front of the fire, and motioned Gilbert to occupy it. ‘I don’tknow when I have seen a man so willin’? to accommodate a feller as that trader was. The minute he found out what Gil-” bert wanted he want to his desk and got ’em—the very minute.’’ Gus noticed that his relative did not say anything about the means that he and Gilbert had used to make the trader so accommodating, and he knew that it would not do any good to pry into the matter. ‘‘Did you see Grizzly Pete?’’ asked Jerry. ‘‘No; he: wasn’t there. Now, Gus, trot out the pa- pers I gave you t’other day,- and then set yourself down at that table and make sense out of the rest of the cryptogram.’’ Gus readily complied, for he was quite as impatient to know what the cryptogram said as Gilbert was, even though he did not have as deep an interest in it: The first thing he did was to compare the copies with those portions of the original letter and crypto- gram that Uncle Jack had found in Buckskin Bob’s tobacco box, and he saw ina moment that Gilbert had not been deceived—that the trader had made cor- rect copies of all the papers which he had surrendered on demand, instead of substituting others, as Gus was afraid he might have done. The letter and cryptogram both bore the same date and signature. ‘*3f must be a great relief to Gilbert to know what his nameis, and where his father’s folks live,’’ thought Gus, as he seated himself at the table, and began his work upon the cipher. ‘‘I never saw him so worked up before. I only hope that things will turn out as he seems to think they will; but what if he should go to that cache and find that some one has been there and dug it up? He wouldn’t care much for the loss of the. dust and nuggets, but he would always live under the belief that if he had got there first, he would have. found some more important papers. ’’ ; Knowing just how to go about it, Gus did not take 36 ‘ ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. more than ten: minutes to translate the entire cr ypto- gram. At the end of that time be rose from the table and handed Gilbert the following: On the left hand side of the canyon, three miles from leaning scrub oak tree at entrance, under hanging rock, two feet below surface. Remove leaves and stones, and the fruits of years of toil will he revealed. Give it to my boy, L pray you; it belongs to him. For a long time Gilbert the trapper, as 1 shall con- tinue to call him, sat with his eyes fastened upon the paper, and no one spoke to him. Insomnia had never troubled him befor e, but it sat by his pillow the live long night, and Gilbert never closed his eyes in slumber. He was so impatient to be off that he would hardly eat any. breakfast, or wait until Unele Jack could get the expedition ready to take the trail. For it was a work of no small magnitude that the good-natured ranchman had taken upen him- self when he promised to stand by Gilbert and assist him until he had made himself master of .the treasure that was concealed in Sweetwater Canyon, although he talked of it with the same indifference that you would talk of taking a walk to the post-office. Winter was fairly upon them (it promised to bea severe one, too, Uncle Jack said), and the canyon was all of two hundred miles away. It was no boy’s play 70 travel that distance at that season of the year, and The captain’s giant form was the first on board, and every Malay leaped from the proa as the great. lion face and brandished cutlass came dashing over the rail. ui CHAPTER XXII. THE WHALEMAN. ‘‘Load your guns!’’ was now the command, and the _ men applied themselves to their rammers as quickly ass > possible; all except the captain having boar ded eae muskets and bayonets. Bue ‘“*Look out! going to tire!’’ # And in a moment there came a volley from the other boats, by which two of the Lancaster’s crew were _killed, and Bob Allen and Tom Dean both slightly wounded—a ball grazing Robert’s breast, and another starting the blood freely from Tom’s left arm. ‘*Now, up!’’? said the captain; ‘‘take good aim— don’t hurry—pick out your men and fire!’’ Several more of the Malays were killed by this dis- charge, and all three of the proas took to flight. A prominent characteristic of the Malay pirates is their cowardice, and it is seldom that they will persist in an attack upon any crew provided with tolerable means of defense. ae Captain Dayton made a feint of chasing the fugitives, in order the more thoroughly to frighten them away, and continued to fire upon them until they were out .of gunshot. Then returning to the Lancaster’s boats, he transferred the money and provisions to the large Stoop under the bulwarks—they are proa, and running off to the south southeast, soon left the reef far astern. His course of action was now fully determined upon, With this captured proa, the size of a sloop of twenty tons, he would run through the Strait of Malacca, and. although the distance to Singapore was six hundred miles, the fresh northeast monsdon blowing abeam would enable him to make the passagein a very few days. ‘ It was found that in the fight there had been four men killed, including Captain Ailsworth, while six were discovered to have been wounded, although some of the injuries were slight. Jack Moore, however, had received a mortal hurt, and on the next day he died. This was the first occa- sion on which either of our young heroes had shed a tear since leaving home; but now the eyes of both were dim with the rising flood which they tried in vain to keep down. : _ It was the morning of the fifth day after the fight with the Malays, when, as daybreak lighted up the waters, a line of land was seen directly ahead, and the captain, standing up and looking directly toward it, remarked in his calm, bass tone: ‘*That’s old Singapore!’’ In a few hours the proa sailed into the roadstead, and Bob and Tom, with their waddling shipmates, were soon traversing the streets of one of the most im- portant commercial marts in the world. Here the boys busied themselves with looking for a voyage, and finding no vessel bound directly home, they anticipated another trip to some Asiatic port. *‘Look there!’’ said Tom, one morning, catching a first glimpse of the roadstead; ‘‘there’s an American ship just come-in, That old flag looks better than any- thing else we can see, don’t it?”’ ‘*Yes,’’ replied Bob; ‘‘but that ship’s no merchant- man; see the boats at her waist and quarter. That’s a whaleman!’? ‘tow rusty she is,’’ said Tom; ‘‘but I suppose they’ll paint her up here. I didn’t know that whale- men ever came into Singapore.’’ **They don’t often, I guess,’’ said Bob; ‘‘but likely enough she has been cruising between Borneoand Java, and so she could haul up on the monsoon just about enough to get here on one tack.”’ i ‘*There’s a boat coming off frem her’? said Tom. ‘‘Well,’’? remarked Bob, ‘‘if I could get a chance in a whaleman I would go, wouldn’t you??? ‘*Yes, I guess I would, quick enough! We should get _ home some time, and perhaps have a few dollars com- ing tous besides. Let’s go and see the fellows come ashore,’’ The strangers were six men, one of whom, the boys doubted not, was the captain of the ship. The long, light whale boat, low at the waist and high and sharp at both ends, was rowed close to the feet of the youngsters, fhe weather-beaten mariners at the oars _ glancing up at the two comely sailor boys, who, in _ their neat seamen’s shirt and trousers, stood so in- tently regarding the new arrival. ' As the six faces were thus turned upward, the hearts _ of the boys leaned joyfuliy. “Jack Bruce, Jack Bruce!’’ they cried, with inex- ae delight. ‘‘Oh, Jack, how are you, how are your ae The rugged sailor was indeed one of the boat’s crew, _ ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. and the pleasure he felt at once more dropping athwart the bows of his young shipmates of the Ganges and tho Oolong was expressed in his own frank way. How much there was to tell on both sides! As Jack went rolling up the street in his pump shoes, sailor cut trousers, and blue and pink figured shirt, with a wide, pennant like ribbon floating from his tarpaulin and another from his collar button-hole, the boys could not talk fast enough. One of them hung on his star- board and the ether on his larboard, and they poured out to him the story of all the long months since they had seen him last. ‘*You know, Tom,’’ said Bob, ‘‘that squall we ha off Ceylon—how it did blow! We got flat aback, Jack; and it took the topmasts right out of the brig, smack — over the stern!’’ : ; ce ee ‘*And, oh, Jack,’’ said Tom, ‘‘we’ve had fights with . Malays, and Arabs, and, Frenchmen, and everything! You know the pirate you scared off from the Oolong? Well, he came after us away up in the Gulf of Aden, — and we had to fight. him off !’’ e Then they tuld of the English ship in which they had sailed from Muscat, and when they described the conduct of hercaptain, Jack said he ought to have been keelhauled for a coward, But Jack put a word before ‘*coward’’ that I need not repeat. : - At the very outset they asked him of Davy’s wheie- — abouts, and learned that the honest Dutchman also belonged to the whaleman. Captain Howland, of the Nantucket, was immediate- ly waited upon, and he engaged the boys forthwith, . besides taking another of the Indus’ foremast hands, , They learned that the ship wasa_ good vessel of three « hundred and twenty-eight tons; that she manned three boats, had been out from home a year, taken a thous- ~ and barrels, and wanted fifteen hundred more to fill, | Great was the gratification of honest Davy Dorn upon once again meeting the sun-browned youngsters whom he had always fancied, and who had now, as— he said, ‘‘grown to pe so coot sailors ash never. vasli!”’ ” It was in the latter part of January that the Nai: tucket sailed from the great island seaport, and the boys were u0t long in finding that in some respects she’ differed greatly from a merchantman. There was 1ot' the strict discipline which was observed on board tlie: latter; or, rather the discipline went by fits and starts; nor was there shown in the sailor work that exactness and nicety which had been indispensable on board the Ganges, the Oolong, the Indus, or the Lancaster. The original hands of the ship, too, were very different’ in appearance from those with whom Robert and Thomas had hitherto associated. They were more like landsmet: and, indeed, with every one of them, this voyage sas his first; as a whaleship, upon its start from home, seldom takes more than one or two good sailors before the mast, but. depends for seamen’s work upon the boatsteerers and the mates. : oy Standing out of the Strait of Sunda, the fine old whaleman bore away to the westward; Captain How-— land having determined to cruise ‘‘on YZanzibar,’’ where, as he learned, whales had been very plentiful the last season. The route thither was a stretch of four thousand miles, but of course a sharp lookout would be’ kept for picking up whatever migbt offer by the way: In the twenty-two months of their. past nautical éx-' perience, the boys had witnessed nothing more pictur-' esque, nO ocean scenes more attractive for their novel- ty avd stirring power than those in which they were now to mingle with the unpretentious whalemen. No trace was seen of the objects of their pursuit, until the ship was off the southern coast of Hindostan, when one morning, between daybreak and sunrise, as: Bob Allen took his place in the main topgallant cross-_ trees, for the first lookout of the day, while two of his shipmates climbed respectively to the fore and miz= zen, his eye caught a small jet, likea low, watery pillar, © that started up from the ocean, where the morniig light gave a dazzling redness to the surface. heart leaped up. ‘“‘There she blows!—blows!—blows!—blows!”’ he called. fos ‘‘Where away?’’ came from the deck. = Ee rolhrees “(Two points abaft the weather beam, sir! Blows!—: : blows !—blows!—blows! #There she flukes!’? coon In five minutes whales were blowing all about the ship. A most active day had come. STINE A eames _.. (70. BE CONTINUED.) ~ > How his CHAPTER VII. CONSIGNED TO LA FORCE. 1A RIS-at last! Yes, this was Paris. The carriage had | stopped, and when the lad looked from one of tne windows he saw the town wall, and ‘the barrier rising stern and forbidding. Through the bars--the gate was not yet = open—a waiting mass was visible against a background of misty houses; carts of all sorts, beasts of burden, men and women wearing red caps and tri- colored cockades. A minute passed, and when Leslie turned from the window to glance at his companion, he saw that the Englishman was looking. at him with an expression elosely akin to amazement and fear. But before either could speak, a loud command was followed by the creak. ing open of the gates and a shout from the postilions, and at once the carriage rumbled through into the town. During the brief transition a strange feeling chilled Leslie’s blood; it was as though he had entered the jaws of some huge mouster, which would shortly close on him and hold him fast for ever. ‘*A bad sign,’'’ muttered Mr. George Barrington, as the vehicle stopped immediately by the inner door of the guard-house. ‘‘It is not customary to admit per- sons until their papers are examined.’’ ‘‘And that is always done outside?’’ asked the lad: -** Yes, I have heard so——’’ ‘fCome forth, citizens,’’ interrupted a sharp voice. Phe speaker was the wolfish-faced officer, aud he was ‘holding open the door of the carriage. The travelers silently obeved the summons, and were conducted into a dingy and smoky guard-room where the night Jamps were still burning, and which contained a number of drowsy-looking patriots and soldiers. A man wasstand- “Ing writing at a dirty register on a desk, and he glanced keenly at Leslie and his companion as they followed their guide into an adjoining apartment. It was a very small room, with one little window facing cityward, and it’s only occupant was a red- capped soldier seated on a stool, with his musket across his knees. The officer motioned the lad to a bench on the right of the soldier, and the Englishman to another bench on the left. Then he went out, closing the door behind him. The time dragged on monotonously. The prisoners, for, such they appeared to be, were denied the scant consolation of looking out of the windows, to which their backs were turned. _.The soldier, sitting between the two, neither stirred from this stool nor spoke a word. Mr. George Barrington, his arms folded on his chest, looked hard and steadily at the floor. Leslie, busied with his thoughts, was just _ as silent. Listenine*to the voice of Pairs swelling on the rainy morning air, he remembered that he was in the _ city which had been his father’s home, and he-grew impatient to be up and about his search. : ~ ‘*] wonder how much longer they intend to keep as here?’’ he said to himself at last. ‘‘We have been pris- oners for more than an hour now. Of course it is only a matter of form, and as soon as my papers are exam- ined I will be released. But I fear my fellow traveler will not be so fortunate—he seems to have fallen under suspicion. JI am sure he isa marquis in disguise. It. may be all true, his meeting this Roger Clyde at Calais and offering him a seat in his carriage. I daresay the dead man was a Frenchman and a spy, and one of the two accidentally recognized the other. That led to the struggle, and the way it ended will likely cost the Eng- lishman dear. I hope not, though, for he is abrave and cool man. And my sympathies are certainly not with the revolutionary party of France, though I am afraid I will have to pretend that such is the case. All de- pends on cunning, and on my being a good actor.’’ The lad gave a little start, suddenly remembering what had slipped his mind until now. ‘«There is another thing,’’ he went on, knitting his brows in perplexity. ‘‘Was this Mr. Barrington really agitated when I asked him if he knew Andre Beller-. mont, or did I deceive myself? I felt sure that he gave a startled sort of a gasp, and that his face turned pale. His voice shook when he told me to repeat the name. And then how strangely he was looking at me whenthe carriage rolled through the gates!’’ ; A moment of reflection, and a glance at the Eng- lishman’s averted and inscrutable features, turned Leslie’s convictions the other way. ‘*Bah, what nonsense!’’ he thought. ‘‘The light was dim, and I could easily have been mistaken. And if he was agitated, it was probably because we reached the barrier just at that moment, and not on account of my questions. But Mr. George Barrington, or whoever he is, was likely acquainted with Paris twenty years ago. He may be able to help me, and I intend to keep track of him if possible.’ Having reached this conclusion, Leslie dismissed the matter from his mind and sought distraction in a seru- tiny of the red-capped patriot. That individual turned suddenly around with a scowl, and just then, to the lad’s relief, the door leading to the guard-room was thrown open and the wolfish-faced officer entered. Be- hind him came a little, thick-set man, with a sinister, lantern-jawed face, wearing dirty linen. and a long- tailed coat and with a cocked bat surmounting the mop of black hair that trailed on his neck. He closed the door and advanced furtively into the room at the heels of his companion blinking his fiery little eyes this way and that. ‘‘Citizens, your papers?’’ demanded the officer. ‘(Here are mine,’’ replied »Monsieur Barrington, ris- ing to his feet with a gesture of impatience. ‘‘ They have been waiting your pleasure this long while——’’ ‘tSilence, citizen !’’ snapped the officer. 5 He took the document, ran his eye rapidly over the contents, and thrust it into his breast pocket. ‘CAre my credentials correct?’’ inquired the English- man. ; ‘So far as J know,’’ was the curt response. ‘And this other matter of which you have doubtless been informed—the affair of the rascal] who tried to rob me near Beauvais, and whom I had to shootin, self-defense??? oe ae : ioe 42 : ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. ‘¢ His death will be investigatedin due time, citizen.’’ ‘Thank you. I promise you all the aid in my power, | since I shall be residing in Paris for some weeks. And now, I presume, I am free to go——’’ ‘‘Not yet, Citizen Barrington,’’ quietly. interrupted the little lantern-jawed man, as he stepped nearer. “Qn the contrary, | have here,’’ producing and flour- ishing a slip of paper, ‘‘your commitment to the prison of La Force.”’ ‘‘The prison of La Force!’’ cried Monsieur Barring- ton, turning as white as marble. ‘‘My commitment? Good heavens, how in it be possible? This is an out- rage——’’ Go rouce: citizen!’ thundered the officer. *‘ Respect the Republic, or it will be the worse for you.’’ ‘‘But this is beyond all reason,’? exclaimed the Eng- lishman, mopping his brow with a trembling hand. (‘You have my papers. You know that I have come to Paris on government business——’? ‘“We know nothing,’? said the little man. ‘‘Your identity remains to be proved. If you are innocent the Republic will release you.’ If you are guilty you will suffer.’? ; ve ‘*But guilty of what?’’ the other demanded, fiercely. “Why am I arrested?”’ ‘On suspicion, citizen,’’ was the reply. ‘¢ And who accuses me?’’ “Vou shall know later. This much [ will tell you now—the Republic was aware of your departure from ‘London, and your arrival in Paris was expected.”’ ‘Ves, I see,’? replied the Englishman. ‘‘lt is the work of some scoundrel of a spy, who has mistaken me © for another.’?’ Folding his arms, he sat down again on his bench, With a contracted brow he stared hard at the floor. ‘““Poor fellow, he is lost!’’ Leslie said to himself. ‘‘His identity is at least suspected, and he is marked for the guillotine. Whatashame! And what a fool he was to venture back to France!’’ ““Gome, citizen,’? urged the officer. ing in the next room.’’ George Barrington stood up, and features to a stony expression. ~ “T submit, like a good patriot,’? he said, quietly. lt is all a mistake, and some one will pay dearly for at } « Then he followed the little man from he room, first glancing quickly at Leslie, and the door closed behind im. ‘*They are wait- composed his rn CHAPTER VIII. A FATAL QUESTION, It was well that the morning -was cloudy and the room but poorly lighted, else Leslie’s face must have betrayed the sympathy he felt for his traveling com- panion, and the horror and indignation that the arbi- trary methods of the revolution han roused within him; perhaps the former feeliug was the stronger, for during the brief period of their acquaintance he had taken a liking to Mr. George Barrington, mainly be- cause‘of the man’s cool and intrepid character. ‘“*You wish my papers?’’ he asked of the officer, who was regarding him intently. “Yes, citizen,’’?’ was the reply. ‘‘It is your turn.’’ There was an ominous ring to the words, but Leslie pretended not to detect it. ‘‘My passport,’’ he said, handing it over. At that moment the lantern-jawed little man entered from the adjoining apartment. The officer, addressing him as Aiphonse, called him to his side. Thetwo, stand- ing together, read the contents of the document; and a worse-fayored pair of ruffians it would have been difficult to find in ail Paris. ‘*You come to Paris well recommended, Citizen Try- on,’’ said the little man. 4‘ You will find all patriots at your service.’’ ‘*Protection is all I ask or desire,’’ replied Leslie, *‘and the Republic shall have no cause to repent the confidence it places in me. And now, sirs, I trust you will return my passport and allow me to depart.’? ‘* Presently, citizen, presently,’’ said the officer. ‘There are several little formalities yet to be at- tended to. In the first place, did you ever see or con- verse with the Englishinan, Citizen Barrington, before you were thrown into contact with him at the town of Beauvais??? — Se - ‘“Never,’’ declared Leslie. istence until last night.’’ - : a ‘(Did you hold any conversation with him during the ride to Paris?’ ‘