TWO STIRRING NAVAL AND MILITARY |: Vol. 1. No. 15 CADET STORIES COMPLETE IN THIS VP \ TWO DISTINGUISHED FRIENDS THE ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY . he S n aces, U jor aonerat Seo a Headquarters of the Army, Washington, D. C., April 6, 1897. wee 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 witha 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. | am, with best wishes for your success, Major Cenoral, U. S. Army- Cherarg; Us . 7 ®: i N. New York City, Aprils2o, 1897. Howarp, AINSLEE & Co., Publishers of the Army and Navy Weekly, New York City. Gentlemen:—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-Class Matter at the New York Post Office HOWARD, AINSLEE & CO., 238 William Street, New York. Copyrighted 1897. Editor, - - - ARTHUR SEWALL, September 25, 1897. Volz-t. NO, 15, Price, Five Cents. CONTENTS OF THIS NUMBER: A West Point Comedy (Complete story), Lieut. Frederick Garrison, U. S. A, Clif Faraday’s Escape (Complete story), Ensign Clarke Fitch, U. S. N. Volonski’s Vengeance (Illustrated Short Story) D. H. Parry Only (poem) : ee 3 ; ; ; Winning With the Wheel (Serial), Victor St. Clair . Dean Dunham (Serial) Horatio Alger, Jr. In Forbidden Nepaul (Serial), William Murray Graydon, ; ; te es Editorial Chat, : : : : : ; ; : : ‘ Department Athletic Sports, : : 3 : ; : : j ; Department Items of Interest all the World Over : ; : : ; . Department — Correspondence Column, : : : : : : ee Department Stamps Column, . : : : : ; : . : ; Department Amateur Journalism ; ; : : j ; : : Department Our Joke Department A TRIZE CONTESE @e Oa ( E DESIRE to obtain the opinion of our readers on the subject of the best stories, serials and departments for the Army anD Navy WEEKLY. It is our aim to give just what is wanted and nothing else, and for that reason we now invite the readers of this publication to send us their views. To stimulate interest and invoke a friendly competition we offer ten cash prizes for the ten most sensible answers to the question: ‘‘ What are your favorite Serials, Stories and Departments?” Do you prefer, for instance, a thrilling tale of adventure, or are school stories more to your taste? Or would you rather have something his- torical, or naval, or military? And do you, as a general rule, like present-day scenes better than those of the past? Replies can be made either by letter or postal card, The prizes will consist of $5,00 for the best answer, $2.00 for the second best, and $1.00 each for the next eight. The contest will close Septem- ber 30th. Address ‘‘Prize Contest,’ Army AnD Navy Weex.ty, HOWARD, AINSLEE & CO., No. 238 William Street, New York City. A West Point Comedy; ’ MARK MALLORY’S PRACTICAL JOKE, Bs Licwute Brederick Garrisom, Ue Se Ar CHAPTER I. MR. MILLER’S BLOODHOUNDS. “(CGee-whiz! Listen to this!’ ~The time was a morning in July; the scene a cool, shady spot in ‘' Battery Knox.” The speaker was a tall, hand- some lad, dressed in the gray fatigue uni- form of a West Point ‘‘fourth class” cadet, a plebe. He was lying on the grass, his feet swung up on one of the guns; and he held in his hands a copy of that morning’s paper. The papet he had been reading, and it was what he read that had caused his startled exclamation; - UVisten to this, lexas,”’ he repeated. “tiow does this ‘catch your wild and woolly taste?’ (Fire away! responded ‘Texas,’ a tall, stoop- -shouldered youth, at that nio- ment engaged in cleaning a six oor some two feet long. “Bite away.’ - “Tt seems’? said the others (‘that last night while we were hazing the yearlings there wes some excitement going on else- where.’ Daeaboue prowled Texas. ‘I'll bet you ’twarn’t as much as we made, Matk. "Listen, ’ » responded Mark, This is from the New York Globe: “ this way.” “Gs that exciting a ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. “Perhaps,’” said Mark. ‘‘Highland Falls is barely a half mile from here.” “Tf he did,’ laughed Texas, ‘‘it’d be a first-rate chance fo’ you to do one o’ them air famous tricks 0’ yourn, like rescuin’ expresses an’ sailboats an’ sich, hey? You might ketch him, an’ have all the girls stuck on you more yit, an’ all the cadets madder.”’ A “T don’t think they could very well be much madder than they are right now,” said Mark. ‘‘I think we two have done everything to make ’em.”’ ‘‘Durnation’! chuckled the, ‘Texas, tubbing his hands gleefully, ‘‘that’s jes’ exactly what we have! Jes’ think of it,” he continued, counting on his fingers. ‘‘Fust place, we’ve licked them durnation ole yearlin’s every fair stand-up fight they’ve given us. We've locked twaof em in an ice house; we took away every plebe they tried to haze, we’ve sassed ’em right an’ left; we’ve dared to git up a secret society. (Three cheers fo’ the seven Devils, an’ long may they wave!) An’ last night—durnation! Whoop!” Texas paused and gasped: for breath, unable to comprehend in words the \awfulness of the impudence they had Shown the night before. And indeed exas had cause to dance about for joy; ‘Yexas and his chum, with the rest of the “seven,’’ had done what no plebes had evier dared to do, or probably ever will oe to do again. Last night—they had actually hazed the yearlings! One must know something of West Point to appreciate the full force of that statement; one must have an idea of what an abjectly submissive thing a new cadet always is when he goes into summer camp. He is a creature to be ordered and drilled and tormented; he does as he is told even if he is .told to jump into the river. As one has put it: ‘‘He never dares to sneeze unless He’s asked you if he might.”’ And if he dares to ask he runsa risk of being yelled at for speaking to a stiperior officer before he’s spoken to. ‘The im- mensity of the distance between the two is a thing that cannot be described. ‘And now here were seven “‘B. J.” plebes (B. J. is West Point for fresh) who had nerve enough to say they wouldn’t be bullied and hazed, and who, to make it worse, had muscle and some brains to back up their statements. As Texas said, when the yearlings had tried to haze them, the Seven Devils (secret ‘society, if you please) had calmly i turned around and reversed the proceed-- ings—carried the war into Africa. ‘The- night previous some of the yearlings had sallied forth to ‘‘yank’’ the plebes, i. e., to jerk them out of bed. They had yanked, instead, a blanket full of pans and kettles, making a fearful racket and spoiling all the yearlings hazing plans for that evening. ‘Then to cap the climax the seven had risen up a short while later and calmly ‘‘yanked’’ the yearlings. small wonder then that ‘‘Mr. Jeremiah Powers, sah, son, o’ the Honorable ‘Scrap’ Powers 0? Hurricane Co., Texas,’? thought himself justified in remarking that the yearlings were ‘‘mad.”’ Mad does not express it; the yearlines were simply wild. here was no one in the whole summer camp that morning who talked about anything else than the B, J.ness of certain B. J. plebes. Every- body agreed that the thing had to be stopped and stopped in a hurry, too. Life would not be worth living if the present state of affairs kept up. As it was, hazing had been stopped completely; no yearling could even give a plebe an order without danger of being ‘‘sassed,’’ It was easy enough, though to say the thing had to be stopped. ‘The problem was to stop it. Mark Mallory had trashed in fair fight the very finest fighter the yearlings could put up. Likewise he had anumber of friends who stood by him when a crowd of his enemies tried to make it warm for him. So what could be done? - Certain of his enemies, the meaner and more cowardly ones with a certain ‘‘Bull” Harris as their leader, had tried to ‘‘skin”? Mark on demerits, and so get him dis- missed, a scheme which was averted by a new rule put into effects a few days ago that no demerits would count for the first three weeks. And having been balked in that scheme the enemies were stalled. In the meantime the ‘‘seven’’ were keeping serenely at work at the task of being B. J.. (B. B. J. was their motto. ) They had resolved to make it uncomfort- able for those higher classmen in every 676 | possible way; and nowadays nothing ever happened at West Point without suggest- ing to Mark’s fertile brain some new plan which, as leader and head devil he might put into effect to keep up the good work. He and his chum Texas, devil number two, had strolled off that morning for an € hour’s rest between drills; and they had spent the greater part of that hour in wondering what should be done to-day. It wouldn’t do to let up at this critical moment and give the yearlings a chance to retaliate. “Well soak ’em!’? vowed Mark, laughing. ‘‘We’ll make ’em feel more uncomfortable than a burglar in a barrel of pitch!”’ Which resolution Texas seconded with a variety of ‘‘durnations.’’ They returned from that subject to the Highland Falls burglary of the night be- fore; Mark was just observing that there insight possibly be a chance for a joke in spreading a rumor, on the sly, that it was those same pitchy burlgars that had caused all the rumpus in camp last night, when suddenly Texas started up witha muttered ‘‘Durnation!’’ and pointed ex- citedly across the open space inside of the fortification. That meant that something was up, and Mark turned and glanced behind him. What he saw caused him to exclaim with vehemence equal to that of his friend. It was a dog. That was all; he was rather a large dog with a smooth, mottled coat. Atthe moment he was running eagerly about the open space, sniffing the ground as he ran. And Mark stared at Texas and ‘lexas stared at Mark. ‘‘By Jove!’’ the two of them muttered in one breath. ‘‘By Jove! It’s one of the bloodhounds!”’ And then there was a brief silence, during which they watched the animal anxiously. ‘‘Ee’s lost the trail,’’ cried Texas, at last. ‘‘Yes, sah, it’s a bloodhound, sure as 1’m a-livin’?! An’ he’s a beauty, too! Look at them haunches. Durnation!”’ “‘E wonder what’s the meaning of this,” said Mark. ‘‘It looks as if the burglar had come up this way. What do you think ?”? : “YT don’t think so,’’? said Texas, ‘‘for j - ARMY AND NAVY WEE they probably started him think he’s lost the trail.”’ oo That seemed to both of them to be th correct guess; for the dog continued for some while wandering aimlessly about the little fort, sniffing the ground anx- iously, but apparently completely “‘mixe up. bie] Z sae “T]] call him over,’’ said Mark at las ‘‘He’s not doing any good that way.’? — The dog looked up in response to Mark’s whistle and after a few more in- effectual efforts to achieve his purpose gave up the task and came over to devote himself to examining the two plebes. ‘‘Perhaps there’s some pitch about this ’ fort, the guns or something,’? mused — Mark. “T guess that’s what put the hound out. Poor fellow.’ .“T hope there ain’t any pitch about us,’? added Texas, laughing and patting the animal’s head. mistaken for a burglar an’.——”’ He got no further. head. The possibilities of 1t were so vas so boundless, that he could scarcely fir words to fit. And he seized his friend the arm in a grip that made him win@e, o and stared at him, gasping, wondering And then suddenly the thought | ‘Texas, too. He sprang up with a yell that woke} the echoes of the hills. the two were doing a wild fand about the place, the dignified oid gazing at them in amazement. “Wow! wow!’ yelled Texas. ‘Oh, say, was there ever such a scheme? | Oh, ngo say,.will there ever be such sick yearlings? - = Durnation! Who'll it be?” “Bull Harris!’ cried Mark. ; “Ves, yes! Bull Harris,”’ roared the. Durnation!” other. ‘‘Wow! Whoop! CHAPTER IH. CONTAINS SOME PLOTTING. It was some time before the two con- — spirators managed to quiet down at Aes When they did they resumed their seats and their occupations, and set to work to plan the details of their plot, occasionally @ ‘*It wouldn’t be any S fun to be followed all bout camp an’ — Like a lightning — _flash an idea had whirled through Mark’s dog And a second tinge ae ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. pausing for a few more es and de- lighted exclamations. | 2) 1s is the best yet,’ ee Mark. “The best trick we have ever thought of. ) ‘That's ies’ what she is,’’ assented Texas. ‘‘Durnation, won’t there be fun! “Where’ll we get the pitch?” “Remember the old hut in Fort Clin- ton??? inquired Mark, after several min- utes of thought. oT hats so?’ cried ‘Texas, ‘‘’That’s so, its got pitch on the roof. Durnation! An’ ‘ owhen’ll we do it?” _ ‘That's something to consider,’’ said Mark. ‘‘We want to work it when it’ll create the most excitement and——”’ **Dress parade!’’ rvoared Texas, wrig- eo i lis seat with glee ‘Dress parade! And durnation, Mark, spose’n somebody thinks Bull’s the burglar! Whkoop!”’ ‘‘Won’t he be mad, though!’’ laughed Mark. ‘‘I say we nickname him, Burglar Bal.” **Durnation !”’ Texas proceeded to have fresh spasms \at that fruitful suggestion. It ended in \his springing up and dragging Mark off ry the arm. 1 This yere’s too good to Se ie cried. ‘‘Come along | I’m a-goin’ up an’? teill it to the rest o’ the fellows. 2 arglar. Whoop! Durnation!’? ‘And so it happened that when the plébes were called to quarters after their “otie: hour of ‘‘recreation,’’ the drum orderly who gave the signal interrupted a conclave of seven wildly hilarious lads who were congregated in an A company tent and passing all of them through the _ last stages of a delirium of glee. ‘Oh, but there’s going to be fun this afternoon!’’ they chuckled, as they came Out Oo that tent. -‘Oh, but there’s going to be fun! Bull the Burglar! Gee whiz!’ It chanced that the drum beat which summoned the -plebes from their plotting . about Bull found Bull likewise plotting about the plebes and about Mark Mallory agains Br J; oang” = in. particular, There was nothing singular about the coincidence, for Bull had never ceased plotting to get Mark into trouble since the first day Mark saw West Point. ‘The latter had outwitted the yearling then, Bull the- 677 ~ and he had outwitted fin many times — since. Moreover, Mark had once caught his enemy in a ‘rather ruffianly act and had knocked him down as a result. And so it happened that Bull Harris had but one idea in his revengeful mind, and that was to get Mark into trouble. He had tried once to have him dis- — inissed by loading him with unjust de- — merits. As has been said, Mark had cir- cuinvented this. Moreover, he had leaped — into the Hudson when exhausted froina swim ming race, and rescued Judge Fuller’s daughter from death by drowning; by this he had so far won over his enemies that most of Bull’s gang had regretted their contemptible plot. For awhile Bull’s hopes seemed waning. The tide had already set the other way, however. Mallory, with all his heroism, was, so the yearlings vowed, too B. J. to be tolerated. Already by his example he had rendered the usually submissive plebes almost unmanageable. “‘Tust think of it!’? Bull never ceased to declare to his classmates. ‘‘Think of the impertinence of some plebes in daring to leave their tents at night and yank some yearlings! Iwas one they tried it on, and I swear I won’t stand it, by Heaven !”? The rest of the class were forced to agree with him. Sucha thing was enough to raise.the dead! Bull saw to his de- light that his long-desired satisfaction was coming again. “*T tell you what,’’ vowed Corporal Jasper, a lad who was none of Bull’s crowd, but who was a yearling to the core none the less, hating B. J. plebes worse than a thousand poisons. ‘‘I tell you this has got to be stopped. If we ean’t lick this Mallory in a fight then I tell you we’ve simply got to haze hiin as a class until he gives in and behaves himself—or else gets out. West Point’s customs weren’t made to be upset by one fellow, and I don’t care 1f he does rescue sailboats. ”’ ‘“That’s what!’ assented the listeners, with vehemence. ‘“‘Mallory may be a nice enough fel- low,’’ ‘continued Jasper: “I think le 1. myself. But the way he’s carried on is simply unbearable. Isay that he’s got to stand the consequences of his acts; and oe 1 think that ie time for mercy and gentleness has passed. ‘Desperate needs require desperate remedies!’ ”’ ‘‘What do you say to do?” inquired some one. ‘“*T suggest simply that we take him out some night and haze him till he can’t stand up. Isay that we treat him just like a father would a bad boy—you needn’t laugh, for that’s just what this Mallory is—and I don’t know of any- thing that'll subdue him as much asa sound thrashing.” ‘‘I think that’s pretty sensible,’ de- clared one. And it a very speedily that it was the sentiment of the class. For the yearlings were really in a desperate plight. If Mallory were not subdued cainp-life would be unbearable. ‘There were no two ways out of it. He must be subdued! And the yearlings vowed it with deep and variegated oaths. It was agreed that afternoon by the whole class’ in assembly that the ‘‘job’’ inust be done and done quickly. Retri- bution ought to follow instantly upon the outrageous and heinous offenses of the previous evening. “To-night! to-night !’? was the cry. There was a committee appointed ona motion. ‘There were a score on that committee; it had no name, but it knew just what it was expected to do, and it meant to do it. The plan was simply this. The twenty were the strongest of the class (Bull was among them’ of course). ‘They were to kidnap “Mark that night and carry him into the woods. And when they got through it was thought Mark would be in a very submissive humor. It may seem brutal; perhaps it was. But then, as Jasper had said, ‘‘Desperate needs require desperate remedies.’’ And the yearlings were “‘in a hole,’’ as the phrase has it. ““There are no two ways about it,” was the general verdict. ‘‘This business has got to stop.”’ It was not going to stop that day, how- ever; the yearlings would have been quite sure of that if, instead of holding a meeting to consider ways and means, they had only listened outside a certain A company tent and heard the seven con- ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. spirators plotting new mischee Thi a plot was the most bizarre of them all; vand the seven set to work with avidity to see that it was carried through. ; Mark and Texas had taken good care that the all-important bloodhound was made secure. He was tied to a tree ina secluded spot, and he had wee eat to make him comfortable and keep — him quiet. The next thing was to see to the pitch. A soft and sticky mess of it~ was brought into camp and secreted suc- ( cessfully. After that there was nothing / more to-do but wait until the latter — of the afternoon. And then—and then, ye gods! a } West Point, out of fie kindness of Sts “ heart, allows the way worn plebe half an hour for digestion after dinner. duties.’ It was during this latter function that - the seven saw a chance for their scheme, Policing is the technical name for street and © cleaning. Wheelbarrows, brooms shovels are the implements used, and the plebes go tlre round of the camp leaving it as clean asa ballroom flooge Naturally that gave them a reason visiting other people’s tents. It did not, however; give Mark a re for doing one other thing, which he @id nevertheless. He quickly slid into | Bull Harris’s tent, while Texas puro ysely created a ae tbhance by remonstra} ing ay a about something with the vigilant dadet corporal in charge. Mark snatched one of Bull’s shoes, one of which by its superfine polish was evidently intehded for ‘“parade;’’ and having snatched At up he quickly pasted the sole with) the pitch; then just as quickly he slid gut of the tent and fell to sweeping with inno- cent vigor. “The deed is done!” seven. ‘‘Hooray!”? After that there was nothing to do but wait for the fatal hour. The fatal hour was coming very soon. muttered the CHAPTER Hi. WHICH TELLS OF ‘“‘BULL THE BURGLAR.”? Dress parade is an important ceremony at West Point. The cadets are clad in Then. comes another drill, and after that ‘police a up: ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. they could not have worked their scheme _ their dress uniforms, and are spotless, and perfect in gray and white and gold. _(‘‘Dress uniforms,’’ it may as well be said, are not swallowtail coats and silk hats, as an innocent plebe once inquired). The cadet officers appear in their holiday uniforms also, with red sashes some yards long wound about their waists. The parade is held every evening dur- ing summer camp and it comes to a close at the firing of the sunset gun. The “‘narade ground,’’ a turf-covered plain \some quarter of a mile across, situated ‘between the camp and Barracks, is the : scene of the drill; and a crowd of specta- tors always surrounds it at the time. The reader may have seen the West Point cadets march and drill. They have ‘traveled to Washington to attend several inaugurations, and they went to the Wolds Fair at Chicago and te the Columbus Centennial in New York. #, Those who have seen them have never seen finer marching; the cadets are drilled to perfectign itself. The writer had the , advantage of a peculiar situation during he saw that magnificent -jparade as it swept round acurve at Union square, and the cadet lines were straight as\ramrods during that difficult evolution. There was not an irregularity in the en- aa Centennial ; pre for {tis the cadets’ boast that they are vs at their best. And the visitors who see threir evolutions, to the music of one of the best military bands in the country, see a sight that is memorable and im- posing. They say that the grandest scenes will fail, however, to impress trivial minds. It must have been then that the Seven Devils were very lacking in depth of character and thought, for during that evening’s display they were in a far from awed state of mind. The signal for dress parade is the sounding of the ‘‘assem- bly,’’? at which the batallion falls in and forms on the company streets. The plebes are dismissed then, there being no further —\ use for them: ‘The plebes wait a good 3 } long time before they are put on parade. ‘8 This was no hardship to the seven; 679 had they been compelled to be present in — ranks as the cadets wheeled by fours and marched out to the parade grounds. What the seven were doing requires but little telling; in the first place they made sure that Bull Harris was in line and that he had on the proper pair of shoes. This important point decided they set to work hastily, trembling with eager- ness and occasionally chuckling with ‘devilish’? glee. Mark and Texas, as originators of the plot had been allowed the privilege of seeing to it, and accord- ingly they hurried away and left camp on the opposite side to the scene of the parade. The plan was very simple; they found the dog tied in the woods, gnawing peaceably at a bone. Mark took the bone away, and with it in his hand hurried back tocamp. Now a dog does not like to be robbed of a bone. ‘Try it some day and see, only be sure he’s tied as this one was. The bloodhound tugged impa- — tiently at the rope; Texas waited, wild with impatience also, until Mark had had time to reach camp, and then he stepped up and loosened the animal. The animal of course wasted no time in fooling with Texas, but set out upon the trail instanter. He wanted that bone; and that bone he meant to get or else find out why. He raced into camp nearly upsetting a sentry on the way ; he bounded up the company street, running low and sniffing the ground, hard after Mark. And then suddenly—he stopped! What was that? One can almost soliloquizing then. ‘‘Pitch? It can’t be! Yes, surely it is! And wasn’t I sent out to follow a trail of pitch? Haven’t I been chasing myself about all day looking for it? Gee whiz, I’ve got it again!” The hound raised his head, and gave vent to one prolonged howl, then bent to the earth again, and sent out with a bound in pursuit. | And the seven glanced at one another and fairly gasped for breath. Dress parade was at its most solemn moment just then. A word about it. The cadet officers form the parade, and then imagine that dog turn it over to the charge of the tactical * *({g9 eSed) OHI AHL AG SINUVA TING agzIas INVTEHV OEY ds NNOH GOOTd SHEL q = a fa = a fist by way of emphasis and illustration. adding oil to the flames, “How do you know it was a joke?”’ inquired the other, eagerly. ‘In the tirst place, how else would that pitch ever get smeared over the soles of shoes I’ve never worn except to parade? And then how did that stick, all covered with pitch chance to be thrown over there in the corner of my tent ?”’ ‘*T shouldn’t wonder if that was right,” assented the other, after a moment’s thought. “ Aaid- i who did it.”’ . Bull stared at the other in amazement. ‘‘Vou don’t mean to say it’s that con- founded Mallory?’ ‘That's just what Ido.” And Bull sprang to his feet, his face livid with passion. ‘“By the lord!’ he eried. ‘*You’re right! Isaw those plebes laughing at me. By heaven, I’!] make him howl for that if it’s the last thing I ever do while Lelive ‘‘And wasn’t it he,’’ inquired Murray, ‘‘who called you it was a trick I bet I know that name?’ ‘‘Ves, it was. I heard him shouting ‘Bull, the Bufglar!’ as I broke fanks. And now, confound it all, the corps has taken it up and they’l] call me that till | dies?) Bull by this time was striding up and down the tent-in a fury of passion. Murray watched him in silence, surprised at the vehemence his friend showed. And then suddenly the latter halted and bent down toward him, gasping and white with rage. ‘’To-night! Murray!’ he panted. ‘‘To- night. The fellows are going to take him out, and Vil have him at my miercy. Ae my mercy, do you hear me?”’ iWaeo sar the other, chance.” “Tr qs!) eried Bull. lt is, any make the most of it. Ill make him shriek, I’?]] almost kill him! WP choke him till he can’t see! I'll smash his head!) V?1—— ‘Come, come, old man,’’ said Murray, alarmed at Bull’s fury as the latter’s ex- clamations grew louder. ‘‘Come, sit down and take it easy. There’ll be time enough when night comes—and besides there’s tattoo.”’ “T's 4. Yate : = ‘Tattoo ist) muttered Bull “'lt's most time now. Only an hour more and then—and then— By heaven! just you watch me!” CHAPTER ¥. THE SUBDUING OF CADET MALLORY. ‘‘Half-past eleven, and all’s we-ell!”’ Camp McPherson was deep in the sluin- bers of the night. Where the shade trees which surrounded it left space the moon- beams fell upon the glistening tents and found all still. The night breezes which swept through played about the sleeping forms of the young soldiers and waved the trees above them. ‘The sentries who paced the walks on the outside were the only things, except the trees that were moving. : ‘‘Half-past eleven, and all’s we-ell!”’ The sentry’s cry was still ringing through the camp, when it was answered by a low, subdued whistle. The whistle alarmed no one, for the sentries knew what it meant, and so did all others who heard it; it was not loud enough to awaken any one. The signal was answered promptly. The camp sprang into action on the in- stant. A dozen figures seemed to rise out of the very ground; they came from the various tents, creeping silently, all gather- ing at one point, the spot where the whistle had come. And soon the twenty or more yearlings were standing in a group in the A company street. ‘“All here?’ inquired the leader in a whisper; and a moment later he gave the word, ‘‘Come on, then.’’ and the party started down the street. There was no hesitation or delay to talk over plans. The whole sally had been mapped out beforehand. Mallory must be seized and held motionless; if it could be done without awakening his tentmates well and good, but if not it must be done anyway. And that being the plan, there remained nothing further, but to put it into immediate execution. The walls of the tent were up, leaving a simple A-shaped covering which stopped some two feet from the ground; and so dragging the plebe out was to be an easy ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. = matter. There was only one importa matter—to get a good grip at first. TI yearlings entered with the stealth Indian ambush. ‘They carefully noticed which was Mark, and then as many a: safely could stole up and stooped over his body. 2 There was a moment’s breathless pause during which hearts thumped with ex. citement. Then came the word, ‘‘Now!? and as one man the crowd laid hold upon — their prisoner. Two of them seized each — stalwart leg and two each arm; one hand was thrust over the captive’s mouth and Mallory was as helpless as if. he were buried in the earth. cs They lifted him up in silence and bore - him out of the tent. Not asound was heard; the sleeping camp slept on. The ~ rest of the yearlings surrounded the — triumphant captors, and the party stole softly down the streets and approached — Fort Clinton, which lay just beyond the beat of Sentry Number Three. The sentry — calmly faced about when he saw them _ coming, in order that he might ‘‘see no one cross his beat,’’ which is in strict ac- cordance with instructions. And the party hurried across, mounted the parapet, and | stood, safe at last, within the seclude confines of the scene of their intend Magi. The crowd breathed freely at last; buf not for one instant did those who clung to that dangerous captive relinquish ther gtip. ‘Phey clung with such tightneés that the plebe could not even movea muscle, and when finally he was securied with rope and gag, even then they watched him carefully, nervously, as(he lay panting on the ground, fearful that pethaps he might burst his fetters like — samson of yore. Such was the a ; which Mark’s prowess had inspired in his _ desperate enemies, and such was the spirit they meant to ‘‘tame.”’ es They got got right to work at the taming, too. ‘“Tie him up!’ whispered the leader. _ Bound stiff as the plebe was, they tied. him to a tree that stood in a remote corner of the old fortification. And then one of the yearlings produced a knotted rope, = and every man in the crowd whipped off his jacket. : oe oe ‘We'll each give him five,’”? muttered « } - the chance came to do it. ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. _ the leader, os then see what sort of a “humor he’s in. The helpless prisoner was in his under- clothing; he needed no further stripping for the torture. And the yearlings, eager _ for vengeance, wasted no time in hesi- tating about their course of action. Few of them relished. the task before them, but all had agreed that it had to be done, and no one changed his mind now that Here was a plebe, a vile degraded ‘‘beast,’? who had caused the yearling class more trouble than tongue can tell. He had plagued them, tormented them, outwitted them. He had defied them, and even dared to haze them. He had made them the laughing stock of the post, the fourth class not excepted. And he had to be stopped. He had to be taught that others >) Were lis masters. And if no arguments would avail, force must and would. It was a startling scene that a man who gazed over the parapet of old Fort Clinton would have looked upon. There was an Y enclosure, covered with ruined cannon, and caissons, and lit by the faint ie \moonbeams. ‘There was a single help- ‘less lad bound face to a tree and almost naked, surrounded by a crowd of uni- formed soldiers, all with determination wkitten on their faces. It might have me the observer fancy himself in the depths of darkest Russia, or perhaps in the South, where scenes such as tls are known. But he would not have been apt to think of West Point. Perhaps it was because the yearlings knew that they were doing a desperate and unmanly act that they made haste to_ set about it. A resolution which fears it is wrong, fears it may waver, is apt to hurry on, to dread to listen to reason. The man who had acted as spokesman all through stepped forward and began in a voice that was subdued and low: “Mallory,’’? said he, ‘‘you know why you are here. You know what you have done—there is no need for me to go over it. Now listen. Your conduct will not be tolerated at West Point another day. You have got to learn to behave yourself as a plebe should, and we are here to teach you the lesson. Every blow you may feel will go to impress it on you. Now understand plainly, it is in your power to end this matter now.”’ There was a silence during which the speaker meant for his words to be thought over. ‘(This is the question,’’? he continued at last. ‘‘Will you give us your promise — to stop all your tricks? Will you promise to behave yourself as other plebes do? To do just as you are told under all cir- cumstances? ‘Those are the terms, and those the only terms upon which we will set you free. There was after that an anxious pause, during which every eye was bent upon the figure of the captive. And the figure was seen vigorously and emphatically to shake its head. ‘‘Rnough,’’ said the leader, clinching his hands. ‘‘Let us waste not a moment mote. ”’ “Not a moment!’ ecohed the crowd. ‘CWho’s first??? inquired the spokes- man, and instanly a figure sprang for- ward, a figure wih flashing eyes and twitching fingers, a look of the wildest fury upon its face. 71 cLet me doit!” It was Bull Harris. And the leader glanced at him in surprise for a moment, and then said: ‘Very well.. Go on.’’ Bull seized the rope in a frenzy of passion let loose, passion that had been pent up for months. He sprang forward, clinching his hands; he swung the rope overt his back with-a hoarse cry of rage; and then—— It came from the camp, a wild shriek : that rang out upon the still night air. It was such a shriek as men have called : Ss ot ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. _blood-curdling. Its unexpectedness struck the yearlings as a word from heaven; they sprang back in alarm, and Bull Harris cowered like a beaten cur, There was a moment of agonized wait- ing, and then once more, loud and clear came the cry and a moment later the sentry’s alarm: ““Corporal of the guard! ele “The camp’s awake!’ roared the leader. ‘‘We’ll all be found out! We’re gone! We’re gone!”? A panic seized the crowd in an instant and there was a wild rush for safety. Someone thought of the plebe, thought that if he were found tied thus what trouble there would be, and had presence Post number of mind enough to slash at the cords and. A moment later Mark found himself hurried along in a blind dash for ue ‘he: wildest excitement prevailed at that place. Sentries were rushing about and perplexed officers; cadets were hurry- ing from their tents in alarm; and the hazers were making a desperate dash for their tents, running in on every side. release him. Mark had presence of ine enough when he found himself in the company — street to fing himself into his own tent. an«. cover himself with the bedclothing, - Before he could do that, however, he met. Texas, also hurrying to the door, but from the inside. And Mark seized him by the hand. “What's the matter ?”? ‘‘Who made the noise?” “The Parson,”? responded Tex exX- citedly pointing to a sleeping form on the floor. ‘‘He must be havin’ a bad dream, I reckon, fo’ he let out a couple 0? yells to beat a coyote. An’ he’s made all this fuss!”” . ‘What!’ gasped Mark, in amazement. ‘Is that all that’s the matter ?”? ; ‘That’s all,’ said Texas: “Ali Gage I know. What yo’ been, anyhow 2?” he ericd. [THE END. | ‘‘Mark Mallory’s Celebration; or, A Fourth of July at West Point,’’ will be the title of Lieut. Frederick Gartisun’s next West Point novelette, = Clif Faradav’s CHAPTER I. TROLLEY’S BOILD RESOLUTION. “Its a put-up joband Il] bet a year’s pay on it.”’ “Tt think so myself, Toggles.”’ ‘Clif Faraday is not the one to do a tick like that. Bosh! ‘the very idea of him running away.’”’ “He no da it. He what we call in Japan ‘higo lo kama bhi.’ It mean in your language, he out of sight. Clif Far- aday is one bully boy. He no skip the gutter. He got enemies here and he no turn back on them.”’ ‘Well said, Trolley.”’ ‘‘But where is he? on. ‘(Ask us something easier, Nanny.”’ ‘(Go ask the marines..”’ \ RMY AND. NAVY WEEKLY. “Vet nothing woud delight you “more Y than to shoot me, eh, swaggerer?’?? “Nothing,”’ exclaimed the Vena ‘Tf you give me an excuse I shall do so.”’ ~ : ‘‘] thought so,’’ sneered the voice in ~ the dark corner. ‘That is all, Volonski you can go;’’ and, pallid with rage, the © young officer pulled the stout door to — and his orderly locked it on the outside. — ‘‘Some day-you will exasperate him beyond endurance, count,’’ said the pro- fessor of languages after a pause. The count replied by crossing over the _ straw and sitting down beside him. ‘“Protessor,’’ he said, in’ a whisper, Mean you rider). .) The professor looked at him without seeing him. They had learned to dis- tinguish each other in the dark by the sound of their voices. ‘‘T am in no mood to jest, Dragomiroff, nor have I been these two months, nor shall I ever jest again,’’? said the miser- able man, with a hollow groan. ‘Tf you had studied Paul Dragomiroff during those two months as closely as Paul Dragomiroft has studied you,” said ~ the count, ‘‘you would have discovered that he never laughs without a motive: in fact, every action of his has its cause and that cause freedom !”? 4 He hissed the last word into his com)}- panion’s ear. The professor roused himself ae hjis stupor and answered the question. ‘‘Ves, Dragomiroff, I can ride; why ask me that?’’ | ‘‘Because you and I must ride yh night!’’ said the count. { The third prisoner clanked his fetters, saying with a bitter sigh, ‘‘And do I ride to-night? If so, it must be on the wind!”’ ‘‘Your leg has barely set, Lipinsky,”’ said Dragomiroff, bending over the pro- fessor; ‘‘I am sorry, my poor boy, but we must leave you behind.’’ The words seemed to make the cold strike more chill in the prison hut. Even Dragomiroff was silent for a few minutes. The professor spoke in an angry whisper. ‘‘Count, you are a fool,’? tie aa Dragomiroft shrugged his shoulders. ‘‘Attend to me, Ivanovtza. This isa feast day at the village; it is only four versts away (three English miles), and ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY the soldicns will walk there to drink themselves speechless, and dance them- selves sober again. ‘I'wo will be left on guard, and the horses are ours to choose from.” Lipinsky again jangled his fetters, and Ivanovtza did the same. ‘‘Words are unnecessary,’’ said the ee lying back on the straw. fe,’’ murmured Dragomiroff, tri- phantly, drawing a little piece of metal from the spurbox in his bootheel and putting it into Ivanovtza’s hand. _ ““Great Heaven!”’ cried the professor in a startled whisper. “It is a file!’ It was midday, and the two dragoons left on guard paced HP and down the road to keep warm. “We shall have more snow by night- fall,’’ said one of them gloomily. The other did not reply; he was think- ing of the Feast and felt savage. __ Presently there was a great noise in the prison hut and a continued hammering _ on the door. ‘Silence in there,’’ cried the second dragoon; but the noise went on. ‘Silence; unless you want a bullet _ through the planks,’’ he repeated, angrily, , secretly pleased to vent his ill humor on somebody. The voice of Dragomiroff shouted in reply, ‘‘Lipinsky is dying! A drop of brandy, as you hope for mercy!?’ \ ‘Let him die,’ retorted the trooper; better there than if Siberia,’ But-as Dragomiroff still knocked and shouted the soldiers unlocked the door and en- tered the hut. Dragomiroff hurled the first one sense- less on the straw, and the professor dealt so heavily with Lipinsky’s crutch that the second dragoon dropped, without a cry, beside his comrade. ‘‘Freedom!’’ exclaimed the count, stretching his arms toward the open door. _ “Come, Ivanovtza, they must be bound.”’ With an axe feo one of the huts they broke into the store; in a few minutes the guards were tied hand and foot, and Dragomiroff and the professor had a serious altercation. The count pointed with his hand, from which the broken manacle dangled to 699 Lipinsky, leaning on his crutch in the doorway, wistfully regarding them a few yards off. “Don’t be Oarcoe, professor; it is sink or swim with us. The boy could not sit a horse with that leg of his for half a verst; we must leave him behind.”? “I would tather perish,’’ said Ivan- ovtza, firmly. c Dragomirofi’s long nose curled above his mustache, and his unkempt hair gave him a wild and sinister appearance. ‘‘Yonder broken sleigh we can mend,”’ said the professor. ‘‘You can drive the first stage, I will undertake to follow as fast with another relay; by changing every few miles the horses will do it, and we shall all be saved.”’ “Who is the fool now, think you??? snarled the count, grasping the axe, ‘“when every moment is worth an hour. I shall go alone; if you interfere I will brain you!”? and he raised his weapon menacingly. The professor smiled, and played his last card, which was a trump. ‘Certainly, count, but reflect; it is more than twenty leagues to the frontier ; you confessed you did not know an inch of the way. I was born in this province, and could find my road blindfold. Go, if. you wish, and a copper kopek for your chances.’? The count glared at the tall, thin man whom he could have crushed with one blow, and then flung the axe to the ground. The professor was right, and they hurried to the sledge without an- other word. It was a crazy vehicle, falling to pieces, and discarded winters before as past use, but the two desperate men dragged it into the road and bound the weakest parts with lengths of rope, which the crippled Lipinsky cut at their bidding. Half an hour was spent before they had finished, and then a set of lharness had to be constructed out of the dragoon trap- pings in the stable. This was done with feverish haste, hands and teeth being used; and the per- spiration poured from them as they ran hither and thither, cutting, binding and fastening together, until the work was completed. Four horses were selected from thes 700 ah ARMY AND. NAVY WEEKLY. fifteen standing in the stable, and they were quickly harnessed to the sleigh. Four more were led out, the headstalls tied together, and one of them saddled. Dragomiroff took a knife, and, of the seven horses remaining, he severed a tendon in the legs of six to prevent pur- suit; but, unhappily, the seventh which was Ijeutenant Volonski’s charger, bolted out of the door and circled, terri- fied, about the huts. Dragomiroff shook his head and mounted on to the sleigh where Lipinsky sat, wrapped in a rug. ‘*That brute will betray us,’? he said, hoarsely, as Ivanovtza sprang into the saddle. ‘‘What is your quarrel with the lieu- tenant?’ called the professor, gathering the reins of the led horses. ‘‘T shot his brother in a duel,’’ snarled Dragomiroff. ‘*‘ Busybodies said I fired too soon, but Ive nothing to do with that.”’ The sleigh glided off on the snowy toad, Ivanovtza leading. It was three o’clock, and the darkness was coming fast. e e e e Lieutenant Volonski having relaxed military discipline as far as it was per- mitted him, strode back with his men in the direction of the post. Vodki had warmed their hearts, and as they went they kept step to a rough chorus which rolled out into the Russian night. Half a mile from home a black form trotted toward them along the causeway ; it was Volonski’s brown charger, whinny- ing recognition. ‘*Something has happened,’’ cried the lieutenant, his heart sinking with a terri- ble foreboding. ‘‘Follow quickly ;’’ and he vaulted on to the horse and galloped, bareback to the post. Before the dragoons arrived in their clumsy boots Volonski had discovered all; the charger had been saddled, and Volonski met them as they straggled breathless up to the huts. ‘“To Vlick for your lives,’’ he shouted. ‘The horses. are hamstrung, and the prisoners are gone. Get fresh mounts, rouse the village, telegraph in every direction, and ride after me. I have found their track, leading toward Borou- 4 vi ) Without another word he turned his wiry, long-tailed Turcoman and sped into the darkness. After a detour of three leagues, in- tended to baffle pursuit by mingling all trace of the sleigh in the trampled mud of the high road, the fugitives turned off before they reached Borouji, and struck into the pine wood by a disused path. Once among the trees they pulled up, took out the horses which had brought them thus far, and harnessed the other four. Dragomiroff’s spirits rose after examin- ing them. : ** They are all ene, ? he cried. “On And the sleigh went noiselessly forward . as the snow began to fall. Ivanovtza drove, and they went at a mad gallop. The dark blue of the forest seemed interminable. Mile after mile was gained, the count following close behind with the other horses; and when they halted at last, in the centre of a blinding snow storm, they were ten leagues from Vlick, or nearly half way to life and liberty. They spoke little, and that in a low | tone. \ The nearer they approached their goal | the keener becatne their anxiety to es-| cape, the more terrible the tension under/ which they labored. j For one hour they walked the aay horses slowly round in a circle, after ru bing their legs with straw; ‘and while they were preparing to start again two Jay down and had to be abandoned, [ ‘It is impossible,’? groaned Dragomir- off looking back over his shoulder as they © set off again with three harnessed and three in reserve. Ivanovtza said nothing and plied the lash. ‘“The lieutenant will be returning,’? thought poor Lipinsky, frozen stiff as he cowered in the sleigh. As a matter of fact, Volonski had been on their track rather more than an hour. It chimed midnight from the copper dome of a village church as the sleigh toiled up the hill. The fugitives were stupefied by the ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. cold and excitement, and, of the eight horses, three exhaused, panting creatures alone strugeled on. The professor sat be- side Lipinsky, and Dragomiroff drove. Once at the top of the hill a long slope of five iniles led to the frontier line. If the road were not guarded, they were safe. Alast plunge ina cloud of snow and . steam, one mighty effort on the slippery crest, and the “sleigh began its descent, gliding quicker and quicker as it gathered velocity. Alas—when they gained the top of that hill, Volonski was not a hundred yards behind them with a score of soldiers. He had guessed correctly the point they would choose to leave Russian territory, and had ridden across country from one military post to another, getting a fresh horse at each station and a_ peloton of Cossacks from the last. At the village where it chimed mid- night he sent his escort by one road and a, himself took the hill. ‘“They have gone this way to avoid the village,’’ he said under his frozen mus- tache; and he was right. 2 e e e ° e _ Snow, snow, snow; it whirled in the \ air, it muffled the ground. Dragomiroff, \with half-closed eyes, flogged the horses erchanically, and bent his head before the blinding storm _ Only a boy in the melon patch, Waiting his chance some fruit to snatch; But his face betrayed his purpose vile; Twas lighted up with a fiendish smile. & Only a farmer, lank and lean, Who from his house that boy has seen, Yet he steals upon him, from behind, And seeks a weapon strong to find. 701 If he had turned any time during the last half mile he would have seen the lieutenant close behind him, riding easily, with a terrible smile on his handsome ice: ‘Look!’ shouted the count, as a lull in the storm showed’ them a row of tall poles a few lengths ahead. ‘‘We are saved; here is the frontier.”’ ‘‘And here is the shot I promised you, scoundrel,’’ cried a voice beside him, as Volonski rode up and fired. With a scream, Dragomiroff raised the whip in both hands above his head, and brought it down on the backs of the horses. Again and again the thong whistled in the air, and Volonski fired a second time. ‘“‘Ouick, man—here are the reins. Take advantage of this snow shower, and Heaven speed you. My men will arrive before you are out of sight.’? Ivanovtza gave a great sob and burst into tears; the lame Lipinsky had fainted. e ° e “if 1 Jose my ‘rank for ‘this mahtye work— Well, it cannot be helped,”? muttered the ‘lieutenant as the Cossacks tode up at a gallop. ‘*T have killed one of them; see!’’ he said, pointing to a dark heap on the road. ‘‘Unfortunately the others have crossed the frontier.’’ oe Only a board, that harmless lay On the ground, a few short steps away, Yet the farmer seizes it with a grin, And grasps it with his fingers thin. a Only a nail stuck out of the board, Yet the farmer saw it, and could afford To smile again and mutter, ‘‘I know This will lay the ‘bloomin’’ youngster low!?? Only the dinner bell, loud and clear, Calling the boy to his home so dear; Yet that boy in the sound no pleasure feels, For he can’t sit down to eat his Wigs Morat—Never steal fruit a the light of day. Be ee ee The Secret of WINNING WITH THE WHEEL — OR By VICTOR ST. CLAIR A Bicycle-Detective Story of Surpassing Interest loawoud Inn AEE ESN BO er reer ey (“WINNING WITH THE WHEEL” was commenced mn No. 7. CHAPTER XXX. RUNNING THE GANTLET. JIPON reaching the cover of the growth the | horseman stopped to look back at the mo- ment that Phin Warden’s startling warn- ing rang out on the lonely scene. No sooner had the words been spoken than the rider gave a sharp whistle, imme- diately followed by the sound of footsteps near at hand. Slower to think and to comprehend the situation than his younger companion, Mr. Do set continued to ‘turn the horse around, until Kerl caught upon the reins, exclaiming: “Not that way, Mr. Dorset! keep on—straight ahead —right over the fence! We are surrounded by ene- mies !?? At the same time he snatched the whip from its socket, and dealing the horse a smart blow, reined. it for the middle of the road. The obstruction across the way had been built of small trees and brushwood, which could be easily suir- mounted and passed. To make the passage still easier Phin had dismounted from his bicycle and was tearing down the barrier as fast as he could work. All this took place in half the time it bas taken to describe it, and Ker] had barely got ‘possession of the reins when three masked men leaped from the edge of the woods into their path, one of them attempting to seize the horse by the bit, while his companions sprang to attack the occupants of the wagon. Nor had the horseman been idle. Urging his animal forward he flourished a revolver in his right hand, as he cried out: “Stop, if you value your lives!”’ Without waiting for a reply he fired directly at Mr. Dorset, when the latter uttered a sharp cry of pain, exclaiming: “T am shot!” Avis, with a scream of terror, of the wagon. But Kerl had already reined the horse straight down the road, and plying the whip vigorously, he caused the now frightened creature to plunge furiously for- ward. The man at its bit was flung into the ditch, and those who had attempted to assail them were sent headlong to the ground, one of them under the wagon wheels. ‘A erash followed, as the fence was reached, and for a moment it seemed as if the vehicle must be over- turned. But the horse quickly cleared itself, and then the last wheel rolled off of the brush. The way was clear now, but if the three men had been temporarily overcome the horseman had an ad- vantage he was bound to follow up, and shouting for those in the wagon to stop he dashed alongside, firing another shot as he did so. Though doing its best Mr. Dorset’s horse was nota fleet animal, so it seemed the rider was likely to make their escape a serious affair. But a rescuer Was at hand no one had counted upon. fell into the bottom Back numbers can be obtained from all newsdealers.) No sooner had Phin seen the way clear for the wagon than he had returned to his bicycle, and as the horse- man began his pursuit he followed him. Just as the other fired at the escaping team he dealt his arm a blow which sent the weapon flying from his grasp. An oath left the lips of the surprised man, but he suddenly found himself flung bead_ first from his saddle, his horse haying stumbled and fallen to the ground. Kerl was ail the time improving his opportunity and a minute later he saw ahead the bridge which had been mentioned. But with confidence in Phin’s words he urged the horse ahead, crossing the structure a mo- ment later in safety. On the farther bank he was trying to stop the horse, - finding that the pursuit had ceased and not liking this running away from Phin, when the latter proved that he was close behind by shouting: | ‘‘Keep on! the way is clear.”’ is : Without further hesitation Kerl drove ahead fora mile or more, when he pulled up the horse to see to what extent Mr. Dorset had been wounded. This last proved nothing but a flesh wound on the arn, and though beginning to be very painful was not of a serious nature. “Tf you can stop this flow of blood, I shall be all right. Do not be alarmed, Avis, that was a narrow escape, but thanks to our young friend we have comfe out of it safely. It must have been they were after my money, though I did not dream anybody knew/I had it with me. You see I havea thousand dollars jn my pocket, though I have been very careful not to het anybody know it.’’ ' This would seem to explain the object of the assault, though Kerl had a different reason in his own mind. — Just then, however, he was anxious to speak with Phin. How had he appeared thus opportunely, and how had he escaped death on that eventful night at Ironwood Inn? He was rejoiced to know Phin jlived and that he had found him at last. f ‘‘Hilloa, Phin!” he called ont: ‘‘how in the name of _ all that’s good came you here at this time? I supposed. you were dead.’’ i “Say, Kerl, is that you? Iam the happiest boy in the world. I half mistrusted it was you they were after, which made me the more anxious to get here. I wasn’t any too soon. Hark! I believe that man on the horse is following us. Better keep moving.”’ Mr. Dorset, understanding something of the situa- tion, asked if Phin would not ride with them, but the latter quickly declined. ‘*T will look out for myself; keep on. coming.’ Avis, though she bad been frightened by the attack of the men, had fortunately escaped unhurt, so that Mr. Dorset’s wound was the only one received by the three. Kerl had wound his handkerchief around the injured arm so the blood had stopped flowing. The journey for the next two miles was uninter- rupted, their pursuers having failed to put in an ap- I hear them .pearance. ‘‘T must say it was fortunate for my daughter andl | that you were with us, Mr. Kent,’’? said Mr. Dorset, as the horse was finally allowed to slacken its speed — ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. enough to make talking practicable. ‘‘I am sure we should not have escaped if it had not been for you.’? Ny “Tam afraid you put too high an estimate on my . poor services,’’ replied Kerl. ‘‘I think my friend on . the bicycle deserves the most of the credit, for if it _ had not been for his timely warning I am not certain we should have got off as well as we did. How much farther is it to the place where I must leave you in order to go to Ironwood Inn?”’ ‘¢Only a couple of miles more. But must we part company there? I wish you might go to my home with me and in the morning I will drive over with you.’’ Kerl thanked him for this generous offer, but he felt that every moment of time was of great value. As much as he wanted to talk with Phin he felt obliged to wait a few minutes longer. ' ¢¢You were speaking of the prisoner who had made his confession, Mr. Dorset. I wish you would tell me all you have heard about him. lam interested to know the particulars.’ ‘©All I know is what I read in the Herald Special. I have the paper with me; here itis. That would tell the story if you could only see to read it.’’ “*T have some matches with me. If you don’t object I will look at the headlines, if nothing more.’? ‘‘Object? Avis, can’t you help him? Hither hold the paper or the matches.’’ Then, while Mr. Dorset drove the horse and Avis held the paper, so he would have his hands free to ignite one match as soon as another had burned out, Kerl read by snatches the strangest message he had ever seen or heard, while he fairly held his breath. eet ee CHAPTER XXXI. KERN AND PHIN BOTH EXPLAIN. Made conspicuous by its display headings the article filled two columns of the uewspaper, so of course Kerl could not read it all, but he did read enough of the pathetic story to learn the sad truth, as he believed it to be, of the life history of Harvey Kent. The prisoner began by saying that he had remained silent regarding what he was to fell for reasons that must be easily understood by the reader. He belonged to an old and honorable family, but his father had lost his money and died soon after, followed by his mother - when he was seventeen. Two years after that loss he had gone to vork for Jackson & Joyne, as a clerk, to eventually earn promotion after promotion, until he was one of the principal selling clerks of the large house. But this position cost him the enmity of another of the clerks, Cassius Joyne, a distant relative of the junior At this time he and Joyne were rivals for he hand of the same girl, Lottie Desmond. He was suecessful in his suit, but her father disowned her so l@ng as she should live with him. But with a good in- edme they did not despair, she believing her father would relent. Three very happy years followed, dur- ine which two children; both boys, were given them. The youngest of these boys was less than a year old, when the father was arrested for the embezzlement of a large sum of money from his employers. In vain he protested his innocence. He was taken from the court- room with a sentence of twenty years over him. He learned that the néws of his arrest had driven his wife crazy and that his children had been given to the care of strangers. His misfortune so preyed upon his mind, that he re- solved to escape at all hazards, a feat he accomplished, though he was supposed to have been shot while trying ¢o swim the river at Sing Sing. Disguised, he returned to his native town to try and find his wife and children. But he could discover no trace of them. His boys had been taken away some- where to live, but no one knew where, as far as he was able to learn. It was thought his wife was dead. He dared not continue his search as he might have done had he not been an outlaw, but he spent two years in a vain endeavor to find them, Disheartened, at last he wandered away and for eight years longer he roamed on an aimless quest. Ten years had then passed since his arrest for a erime he had not committed, and he resolved to return to the old scenes, hoping he might learn something then of the fate of his loved ones. But as if.a strange fatality was following him, he was found with a mur- dered man and under such compromising circumstances that he was arrested for murder, tried and convicted! 103 ‘¢ All this,’? he said, ‘‘may seem too incredible for belief, but inside of a week I shall be taken upon the scaffold to suffer for a crime I never committed even in imagination or thought. I feel under this peculiar situation of mine that 1 might as well tell the whole truth. Harvey Kent wasnot drowned in his escape from Sing Sing, but I am he and I want the world to know it. Perhaps somewhere the real criminal, he who brought my downfall will read this, and reading it feel one pang of conscience. Iam not sorry that this unhappy life of mine is near its end. I pray Heaven. my boys may never know the unhappiness that has been mine. I believe my unfortunate wife awaits me with open arms on the other and brighter shore.’’ Before the last match had burned out Kerl felt the hot tears falling on his cheeks, and he could scarcely see for the glimmer before his eyes. ‘Sad story, isn’t it??? asked Mr. Dorset, as he was obliged to stop, ‘‘and it has the ring of truth. I don’t suppose anything can save the poor fellow from hang- ing next Friday.”’ “It is wrong that he should. Mr. Dorset, I believe that man is my father!”’ The gentleman showed his surprise at this announce- ment by pulling so smartly upon the reins that the horse was suddenly stopped. ‘You don’t mean it!’’ he exclaimed. ‘‘Excuse me,’? he hastened to add. ‘‘I wish you would tell me all about it. Perhaps I can help you.’’ Kerl believed he could trust this man, so he said: ‘‘T will explain, Mr. Dorset, but before I do it I wish to have my friend with us. He must have a thrill- ing story to tell which may help to explain mine.’’ Phin was already alongside, and now that the horse had stopped he reached out his hand to our hero, say- ing: ‘Kerl, is it possible I have found you at last?’’ ‘* As possible as it is that I have found you. Phin, where have you been?”’ ‘*It would be easier for me to tell where { haven’t been, Kerl. lt has been such a long time since I was taken away from Warwick in the manner I was. [ never expected to see youagain, until I found your bi- cycle at the terrible tavern.’’ ‘¢Jump in here,’’? said Mr. Dorset. ‘‘We can make room for you, and it will be better to keep moving while we talk, if we gosiow. 1am going to take you to my house now, anyway.’’ Then the boys gave hurried explanations of what they had seen and done, enough so that Mr. Dorset and his daughter got a fairly good idea of the situation. ‘*Tt proved as Kerl had anticipated. Phin had been overpowered in his room and borne off a captive, while the same treatment had been meted out to Arthur Kent, except that the latter was butally assaulted and left for dead where he was afterward found. The cap- tors seemed anxious not to harm Phin, though’ they were careful he should not escape. Phin’s story showed how near the boys came to meeting each other in the old barn, and then again when Kerl rode on the hind axle of the wagon containing the captive and his cap- tors: ‘‘ After that,’’ said Phin, ‘‘I gave up trying to get away and the rest of the journey to Ironwood Inn was made as rapidly as possible. There I was put in ‘Scar- borough,’ as they called that dreadful ‘room with the high walls. Thinking a fate as terrible as death awaited me I realized there was no chance for me to escape. But I did find some cardboard and loose pieces of paper, and having some matches in my pocket I re- solved to make ane more attempt to signal to the out- side world. Out of the cardboard I cut some short- hand characters and after many trials I managed to toss the paper up so as to have it catch on the win- dow sill. Then I waited until it was dark so as to light the paper, hoping I should thus be able to show up the letters so they would be seen on the outside, though I had small hope anyone would see them who could read my message. I timed myself so as to have my light burning at the time the Canton coach should be coming up the hill. I have never known that any one saw my eall for help. ‘* A few hours later I was taken from that room and borne to what looked to me like a dungeon, from which I was rescued by you, Kerl. At least I thought it was you, but when [ jumped, as you told me, I lost all sense of what followed. I hada vague conscious- ness of falling, and the next I knew I was lying in a pair of arms on the hard floor of a hut in the woods, ae 704 and a hairy face looking into mine. It seemed upon jumping out of the window I fell into a sort of deep well which had a swift-running stream at its bottom ‘connecting with a pond of water, where I had_ been earried. 1 was discovered and rescued by an old man called Cahoot, who was a distant relative of the Joynes of Lronwood, but not on good terms with them. He lived like a hermit on the shore of Black Pool. He gave all his time to me till I was able to look after myself. ‘¢As soon as I could 1 went up to the old taven, be- ing careful not to be seen by any one. It was there I found your bicycle, and I did not hesitate to take pos- session. At first 1 thought you had been killed, but old Cahoot found out that you had gone into the old well the same as I had, though he did not learn that you had come out alive as I had. ‘“l'o-day he found out there was a telegram sent off by Mrs. Jason Joyne to some one below here. Then a message came telling them to stup Kerl Kent at Brat- tleburg, as you were on your way to the Inn. 1 don’t know how old Cahoot got hold of this, but he had promised so faithfully to help me that I believed him and set out at once to meet and warn you. But I came near being too late.’’ CHAPTER XXXII. CASH JOYNE UNCONSCIOUSLY BECOMES A FUGITIVE, WITH KERL HIS PURSUER. *¢Here we are where the path leading to Ironwood, that I spoke of, turns off; but you had better both of you go with me to my home, and in the morning I will take you over to the tavern. 1 am interested in our welfare and mean to do all I can to help you.’’ ‘*T thank you,’? replied Kerl, ‘‘but I feel that it is necessary we should goon to Ironwood. We will look out for ourselves. *’ 3 ‘¢Of course you know best, but I warn you to be on your guard. If you say go, all right, but I will be over early in the morning. You can count on that. You can’t miss the way, as you will find a heaten path all of the way, which comes out by Black Pool. The road is but a short distance beyond.”’ Bidding the kind Mr. Dorset and Avis ‘‘good night,”? Kerl and Phin entered into the deeper gloom of the forest pathway. But they had not gone many rods before the hoof- strokes of a horse were heard along the road they had just left. Darting back to where he could look out upon the highway, Kerl was not much surprised to see the horseman who had played such a prominent part in the attack upon them gallop past. The rider looked neither to right nor left, and soon disappeared in the distance. : ‘| am tempted to follow him on the bike,’’ thought the boy detective, ‘‘but I hardly think he will be able to harm Mr. Dorset. I must get to Ironwood Inn be- fore it is too late.’’ Keeping the bicycle with them, the boys followed the path at a rapid gait, coming out intosight of Black ’ Pool before they had realized it was sonear. ‘The first sight Kerl saw to call for more than a passing glance was the tiny speck of light he had once before seen dancing along the surface of the dismal sheet of water. ‘Old Gahoot has got his witch light burning to- hight. I wowder what he is doing away from home to- night,’’ sa‘d Phin. “The light we see then belongs to this Mr. Ca- hoot,?’? said Kerl. ‘‘Yes, It isa little lamp made like two leaves put together, and it is fastened to a boat of his which drifts most of the time over the pond. Old Cahoot al- ways fills and lights his leaf lainp whenever he is go- ing away, he told me. He believes it keeps evil spirits from going near his home when he is not there. You see he is not just right in his mind.’’ ‘¢Then the Joynes have no hand in that, at least,”’ said Kerl, as they followed the easterly shore of the pond toward the road. ! They had nearly reached the highway, but were un- der the overhanging shrubbery which grew on that side, when the sound of an approaching team caused them to stop and listen. ‘(Some one is in great haste, which proves that it ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. can’t be the stage. Budd Darby was never in hurry,’’ whispered Kerl. : a ‘Took the other way !?? exclaimed Phin, in the same low tone; ‘‘here comes some one.’? i. : Kerl had already discovered a womanly figure com-| : ing down the road’ with quick steps, and as she came nearer he recognized her as Mrs, Jason Joyne. es She stupped directly in front of them just asa horse and carriage came into sight. The aninial was covered ~ with foam and its breath came in quick, short gasps, — telling that it had been diiven at a furious gaiffora | long distance. a cae Mrs. Joyne seemed to know whom she was to meet, — for she maintained a position in the middle of theroad, waving her hand for the occupant of the carriage to stop, as he reached the place. ‘“So you have succeeded in getting here,’’ said the woman. : ‘‘Tg that you, mother®’’ asked the other, with evi- dent surprise, and as he leaned forward out of the car- riage Kerl saw that it was Cash Joyne! ‘‘T didn’t get your telegram in season to take the train I ought,’’ continued he, ‘‘but I have got here in spite of fate, by coming another way and driving a / horse to death. What’s the word??? / ‘‘The old Harry seems to be to pay,’’ replied his” mother. ‘‘I got word the Kent woman has escaped from Blackwood’s. I wish she was dead, for she has been our evil genius ever——”’ : %¢1t’s that devil of a youngster, who came so sudden- ly and mysteriously, but I trust Jack has cooked his goose before this time. Goon! Blackwood’s patient has escaped.”’ : ‘‘That isn’t the worst, by any means. The box in Black Pool is missing !”’ This announcement caused Cash Joyne, who was of an excitable nature, to jump from the carriage, while he uttered a volley of oaths ‘*That is that you dare tell me? The box of treasures gone! Where have you all been?”’ ‘¢T6’s that old Cahoot. I warned you of him years ago. Look! the light is on Black Pool. I saw one the otber night before that Kerl Kent came. What is coming next?’? ‘¢Out upon your tom-foolery. We have more import- ant matters to cousider than that will-o’-the-wisp.’? ‘‘But it is always a forerunner of trouble. J——?? ‘¢‘Pshaw! you are an idiot. But you said the bo had disappeared. Perhaps the.string has only broken. ‘¢The string is gone, so is the box. I dived last night) myself to make sure of that.”’ W ‘‘That is the worst yet. But Kerl Kent couldn’ have done that. If I thought old Cahoot had stolen i¥, I would have him killed this——”’ q ‘¢Hush! I hear a horseman coming, ing like mad. It must be Jack.”’ In silence the twain waited for the rider to gafin their side, when he reined up his horse with a jerk, @x- claiming: , ‘(Is that you, cap?”’ ie t*No, it’s Satan!’? growled Cash Joyne, coming nearer the truth than he no doubt intended. ‘*What have you to report, Jack??? f ‘‘He got away from us! He is as slippery as—;-’’ But his leader checked his speech with a burst be an- ger that made bim tremble. f ‘‘How dare you show your head to me, Jack pear, with your story of bungling tom-foolery? If yon have let Kerl Kent geta way from you, I will give you until sunrise to find him and put him where you will be able to find him ever after. Do you hear me, dog???’ The cowering wretch bowed his head. - ‘¢He must be found, and Old Cahoot must be put where he won’t bother us any more. Mother, you see that Deacon looks after the old re robate.. I must get to Blackwood’s as soon as possible. It isn’t over a dozen miles there, and on Jack’s: horse I can get there in about three quarters of an hour. I will go and be back inside of two hours. Look sharp till I return.’? While speaking he stepped alongside the other, who a dismounted, when Joyne sprang into the saddle. ‘¢Remember what I have said, both of you,’’ said Cash Joyne, and then he rode down the road whence he had come—that is, the road toward Canton—ata swinging gallop... ‘¢We might as well take this horse to the stable,?? said Mrs. Joyne. ‘‘Then we will look after our part of the night’s work.’’ of and he is rigl- ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. | ‘What shall we do??? whispered Phin. .‘*¥ou must warn old Cahoot of his danger before they find him. Can you do it, Phin??? ' “Ican try. But what are you going to do?”’ “‘Lam going to follow this’ Cash Joyne, and if I do not get to this Blackwood’s ahead of him, it will be because [ am not smart enough.”’ The carriage with the man and woman in it was_be- 705 ginning to move up the road as Kerl Kent silently pushed his bicycle out into the highway. ‘‘Look out for yourself, Phin, till I come back,’’ were his parting words, as he rode silently and swiftly away in pursuit of his enemy, little dreaming what he and Phin must pass through before they should meet again. : [TO BE CONTINUED. | OR, THE WATERFORD MYSTERY. By HORA TIO_ALGER, Je, Author of ‘The $500 Check,’’ ete. (‘DEAN DUNHAM” was colmmence CHAPTER XVII. AN EVENING AT NIBLO’S, WISH I knew whether that money I saw Mr. Kirby counting belonged to my poor uncle,’? thought Dean. He didn’t venture to take his boy friend into his confidence, for his suspicions, strong as they were, might prove to do hisemployer cel -/ injustice. At any rate he resolved to keep on ¥he lookout for additional evidence which might tend} either to confirm or to disprove them. If \he had been present in the broker’s office, he would have heard something to confirm the distrust he felt. \ When Peter Kirby was asked by the broker’s clerk,; as usual, his name, he hesitated for a second, then answered boldly, ‘‘Renwick Bates.’?? So in the brokex’s book the sale of bonds was recorded as having been rnade to Renwick Bates. Had the squire known this, he would have felt very angry with his confeder- ate, as, in case the fifty-dollar notes were traced, his name jwould be involved. Guy\ and Dean were taking supper at a restaurant not far from the hotel when Mr. Kirby came in and sat down at a table near them. Guy was the first to notice him. : : ‘*Pheve’s your respected employer, Dean,’’? he said in a low voice. *‘So he is. I wonder whether I ought to speak to him? 27 ‘*Wait till you get through supper.”’ Presently another man came in and took a seat at the same table. He seemed to have been expected. *“You're late, Pringle,’’ said Kirby. ‘Yes, I was detained. I went to Jersey City to see my wife.’ ‘*You are better provided than I. found time to get married.”’ __ ‘*Well, it’s awkward sometimes in our business to _have such an incumbrance.”? **Does your wife know what business you are in??? *‘Scareely. She’s a good church woman, and would be horrified. She thinks | ama traveling salesman.’’ _ Kirby laughed. — ‘‘I have no wife to deceive,’’? he said. ‘That ‘is I have never i. aby "obvhere I have the advantage of you. However, you are «60 worse off than the captain. I’ve been up to see AS : ‘NWhere?” Be : in No. 10. Back numbers can be e obtained from all newsdealers.) answered Kirby, evasively. ‘inv cthe= country...) They call him squire,”’ ‘*He’s a big gun out there. Both laughed, “So he is married?’’ ‘Yes, and has ason who is his very image, even to the long, tusk-like teeth. If ever he gets into trouble it’s because they will give him away.’’ “‘They certainly are very peculiar.’’ ‘*They are dangerous,’’ responded Kirby, with em- phasis. ‘‘If I had them I would get rid of them in short order, but the captain owned to me that he- was afraid of the dentist.’’ ‘*T suppose his family are in the dark as to his posi- tion??? ‘‘Undoubtedly. His son is an impudent young cub. It would have given me pleasure to box his ears. He evidently thinks his father a man of great importance, and is inflated by his own estimate cf his social conse- quence.’’ ‘‘What makes the captain stay in such an obscure place?’’ ‘*He tells me it is on account of his family, and also because it adds to his safety.’? ‘*When are we to see him??? ‘*He will be in Chicago next month, and lay out work for us to do. One thing I will say for him, he has good executive talent, but he ought not to keep out of the way so much of the time.’? Then the talk drifted into other channels. To this conversation Dean listened with the utmost attention. He felt interested and excited. He could not fail to understand that Kirby was referring to Squire Bates. The mystery was despening. Who and what was this man who in Oakford posed as a lawyer, a reputable citizen, and a justice of the peace? It was clear that he was allied to some outside organization in which he wished to conceal his membership, This man Kirby who was now Dean’s employer was a friend and associate. Why under the circumstances should Squire Bates have been willing to send him off as Kirby’s clerk or secretary? If there was anything to conceal, it was only giving him an oppotunity to find it out. “‘I must keep my eyes open,’? thought Dean. ‘I mean to find out who robbed my uncle, and whether Squire Bates had anything to do with it. If I could only recover the money I should be happy.’’ Gs are you thinking about so intently?’’ asked uy. zs ‘‘T want to get out of the restaurant without my 706 employer seeing me,’? answered Dean ina low voice. “Why? Would he object to your coming here?”’ ‘¢Wait till we get into,the street.’ The boys managed to effect their retreat without at- tracting the notice of Kirby or Pringle. ‘‘Now what’s it all about??? asked Guy. ‘“‘They were talking confidentially, and Mr. Kirby would be angry if he thought I had heard them.”’ ‘‘Ohb, that’s it,’? said Guy, carelessly. He was not a boy of much curiosity, and felt much less interest in Dean’s concern than his own. ‘*Well, what shall we do this evening??? ‘Go to bed, I suppose.’’ ‘¢But why not go to some theatre?’’ ‘T should like to go,’’ said Dean, ‘‘but I don’t know that I ought to use the money Mr. Kirby gave me for such a purpose.’?’ ‘¢You needn’t mind that. Didn’t you tell me you were to receive tweuty-five dollars a month?’? ee Yes. 2? ‘Then if he makes any fuss, tell him to charge the expense of the theatre to your salary.”’ “Tt might do that. How much will it cost to go to the theatre?’’ ‘¢We can get a fair seat for fifty cents.”’ ‘Then I think I’ll go,’’? said Dean, after some hesi- tation. ‘ ‘(Have you any choice as to theatres?”’ ‘*No, I don’t know anything about them. went to a theatre in my life.’’ ‘Well, you are a fresh young countryman, and no mistake. Here, ll get an evening paper, and see what’s playing at the different theatres.’’ The resulf was that Niblo’s was selected. It is not necessary to mention the name of the play, which was at that time a popular favorite, but is now forgotten. The two boys obtained seats in the balcony, rather far off from the stage, but both were possessed of good eyes, and had no difficulty in seeing what was passing on the boards, Dean was enchanted. He had had but vague ideas of what a theatre was like, and to him everything seemed real. ‘There was one place where the villain of the piece throws the heroine frgm a bridge into the water. Dean uttered a little exclamation. Guy turned to him with a smile. ‘‘What’s the matter?’’ he asked. ‘‘T__f almost thought it was real,’’ said Dean, was afraid she would drown.’’ ‘¢And I dare say you wanted to punish the brutal ruffian?’’ ‘¢Ves, I did,’? admitted Dean. ‘Probably he and the girl are excellent friends in real life. Why, they are husband and wife,’’ he added, referring to the playbill. ‘“Tt doesn’t seem possible.’’ ‘*T envy you, Dean. You enjoy the play much better than I do, for you believe in it, while I kuow it for a sham --that is, | know it’s merely play-acting. Look in the next row—you see there is some one who believes in it as much as you do.” Guy pointed to a lady in plain, old-fashioned attire who was wiping her eyes. ‘‘She takes it worse than you do,’’ whispered Guy. The play continued, and ended at last tothe satisfac- tion of Dean, who saw all the bad characters visited with retribution, while oppressed innocence and virtue through much tribulation attained happiness and peace, When the play was over, they joined the throng and passed out through the lobby. Suddenly a cry was heard from a little distance in front. ‘‘T? ve been robbed! I’ve lost my pocketbook!’’ and a small man with a red and excited face began to feel wildly in his pockets for his lost treasure. At a little distance pushing their way out, were two tall nen, whom Dean recognized as Peter Kirby and his friend Pringle. While others in the immiediate neighborhood of the victim were regarding him with looks of curiosity or sympathy these two seemed to feel no interest, and to be only intent on getting out into the street, ~ I never Cy CHAPTER XVIII. ON THE FALL RIVER BOAT, Dean didn’t see his employer till the next morning. Mr. Kirby did not ask bim where he had spent the ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. do. Indeed, he seemed in unusual good spirits, and handed his new elerk a couple of dollars to defray evening previous, as Dean thought it possible he es expenses he might incur. : any ore ‘Care we going to stay long in New York??? Dean — ventured to ask. oe ‘“No, we go to Boston this afternoon by the Fall River line.’’ Se This was a surprise to Dean, who fancied they wer bound west. ~ ; When he suggested this, Mr. Kirby said: ‘¢T have a little business to transact in Boston first. We can go west from there as well as from New York.’” Dean was not upon the whole sorry that he should ~ have an opportunity of seeing a city so famous as Boston. : : ‘] shall feel that I am quite a traveler,’’ he said to himself. During the forenoon he was called upon to bid good: / by to Guy Gladstone. That young man had concluded his arrangements for a visif to his Indian hunting grounds, and was ina hurry to leave New York, as he was liable at any moment to meet some friend’ of his father’s who might detain him, or ask him ques- tions which it would embarrass him to answer. At about fifteen minutes to five o’clock Dean and — his employer went down to the foot of Murray street, and went on board the steamer Pilgrim, of the famous Fall River line. occupy the upper one. Our young hero surveyed with admiration the pala- tial accommodations of the great steamer; the grand- saloon, the showy chandeliers, the handsome furniture and eostly mirrors. : ‘‘You can amuse yourself as you please,’’ said Kirby. ‘‘I shall be occupied till about ten o’clock, when I shall be ready to go to bed.”’ oe He showed Dean the way to the supper room, and told him he could take supper whenever he pleased. Dean availed himself of this permission, and after sup, per stopped at the book table in the main saloon, which was under the charge of a boy rather older than himself, arrayed in a blue uniform. This boy he found very social and agreeable. He learned that he wa called Dan, but did not inquire his last name, : ‘‘Don’t you get tired of traveling on the boag?’’ asked Dean. ‘ ‘No. 29 ‘¢But it’s the same thing every night.’’ “‘T have my business to attend to. That prev@nts it becoming monotonous.’’ ‘¢Are you ever seasick??? ‘‘No,?? answered Dan with a smile. ‘‘It woufd take a good deal to upset me now, I’m so used to it.f’? “‘Do you expect to follow the business when you’re a man?’? ‘‘No, I think I shall look for a place in a wyholesale store in Boston next fall. It won’t pay as wellfat first, but it will lead to a good salary in time. I suppose you are going to Boston?”’ ‘*Yes, but not to stay.”’ 4 ‘«How long do you stay there?’’ ‘‘T don’t know yet. That depends upon /my em- ployer.’? a ‘“The man you are traveling with?” ‘¢Ves,?? *‘T noticed him. Nes.) ‘‘Have you been working for him long?’’ * ‘‘No, I’ve only just started,’’ ‘ ‘*What do you do?’? 1 ‘‘T am his private secretary—that’s what he calls me, but I don’t know yet what my duties will be.”’ ‘He don’t look like a man likely to employ a private secretary,’’ said Dan shrewdly, “f don’t know what sort of men do have secre- taries,’’ Dean said, in a perplexed tone. rs ‘‘Oh, governors, members of Congress, and some- times authors. [don’t suppose he’s either of those three,”’ ‘‘T think nof,*? answered Dean, smiling. ‘‘Well, he has a right to have one, at any rate. Dg you like him?”’ ‘ “‘T can’t say I do, though I have nothing to cg plain of. He seems to be liberal.”’ ‘«How much does he way you, telling me?’’ ‘«Twenty-five dollars a month.’’ He is a tall, sallow man, isn’t he?”’ if you don’t Mr. Kirby succeeded in obtaining a state-room with two berths, and allowed Dean to — a) 3) i &é . Ne robbed... | gs. younger , | ing paper ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. { ‘And your expenses besides??’ ae eS My, that’s fine pay. self for that.’’ oi “Tf he wants two, I'll recammend you.’’ ‘You can tell all'you knowabout me,’? said Dan, laughing. : ‘That wouldn't be much, but I can judge of you by your looks,’? 4 **Thank you. I couldn’t recommend your employer very highly on that ground.”? Here two or three customers came up and inquired of the young news agent about some of the latest novels, Dean, seeing that his friend was occupied, went to the after part of the boat, and seating himself on a camp stool, watched with interest the progress of the vessel and the shores so far as they were visible. I'd be a private secretary my » 1It was now dusk, and shadows played over the surface of the water. ' Meanwhile where was Mr. Kirby? \After a hearty supper in the dining saloon he smoked a cigar on the lower deck, and then began to wander about the steamer, choosing especially the walk that ran between the outside state-rooms and the side railing, As he stood beside the railing a stout man looking like a prosperous merchant came out of his state- room, and locked the door behind him. Then he passed through the nearest passageway into the saioon. ‘*fle looks as if he mightcarrysomething of value,’ thought Kirby. ‘‘I’ll venture to examine,’?’ _. Waiting till the coast was clear he produced a pass key, of which he had managed to gain possession, and inserted it in the lock of State-room No. 157, as we will venture to designate it. - The door opened, and Kirby entered the room. He drew a match from his pocket, and lighting it looked swiftly and searchingly about hin. There was a small hand-bag on the lower berth. “1d take the bag if I dared, butit is too large -to put in my pocket,’’ thought Kirby. ‘‘Perhaps I can )\ Open it.’’ + He drew from his pocket a bunch of keys of various izes, and tried one after another. The fourth proved * fit Athe bag, when opened, displayed a variety of con- nyts in which Kirby was not interested. But one ile attracted his attention. This wasa square paste- box with the name of Tiffany upon it. ‘fi’ take that at a venture,’’ soliloquized Kirby. © it bears Tiffany’s name, the contents must. be ot valWe. I won’t stay any longer, for it might prove dangerous,’’ He ralocked the bag, opened the door of the state- room, ajnd, locking it again securely, prepared to leave the spot. He waljs only just in time, for the occupant of the state-rocini appeared a minute later, accompanied by a jan. es Kirby heard him say, ‘‘I bought a watch for my daughter from Tiffany. I’ll show it to you.’’ *‘A narrow escape!’’?’ murmured Kirby. ‘‘If he had found me Yin his state-room there would have been no end of a disturbance. I[ got through just in time.’’ Kirby went into the saloon, and taking out an even- egan to read it attentively, or rather he appeared to, but out of the corner of his eyes he was watching for the return of the gentleman he had He did not have long to wait. The two gentlemen came into the saloon, and one, the elder, seemed much excited. -**] teli you, Johnson,’’ he said, ‘‘there are thieves on board. I left the watch in a pastboard box in my handbag less than half an hour since—indeed I think it is only fifteen minutes, and it has disappeared.’’ ‘tAre you absolutely sure, Mr. Margrave?”’ **Yes, for when I went.to my state-room, after com- ing up from the supper room, | opened the bag and saw that the box was there.’’ ‘*And now it is gone??? ‘*Yes, you saw that yourself.’’ 4 ¢*But I don’t see how, in the short time. you were absent, any one could have got in and effected the robbery.’ ‘Nor do I, but it was done.”’ ‘What shall you do about it??? ‘Notify the officers of the boat, ’t do any good.’? but I fear that CHAPTER XIX. DEAN BECOMES SUSPICIOUS. Of course great excitement followed among the pas- sengers. The two gentlemen went below, and soon re- turned with a quiet-looking man, not particularly no- ticeable except for a pair of keen, sharp eyes. ‘‘That’s the detective,’’? whispered a traveling man- whose business required him to make the journey be- tween New York and Boston twice a week. The two gentlemen and the detective went outside, and made an examination of the stateroom, but didn’t find any traces of the lost watch. ‘*1’d like to be sure the article is really lost,’? said the detective. ‘‘On several occasions [ have found that it was only mislaid. In the present instance there seems really to have been a robbery.’’ ‘There is no doubt of that,’’ said Margrave ruefully. ‘Did you notice any one loitering near the state- room when you left it?”’ ‘*Yes, sir; I observed that a man was leaning over the rail.’’ ‘‘Ha! we are coming to something. Can you de- scribe him???’ ‘‘L am afraid I cannot. You see I had no suspicion that any one was likely to rob me.’’ ‘*Very natural, but rather disappointing! You didn’t casually notice whether the man was was short or tall, or how he was dressed?’’ ‘*T think he was tall, and dressed in dark clothing.’? ‘*T fear this is too general to afford much satisfac- tion. You see most of the men on board wear dark clothes.’’ ‘tT see, Mr. Lynx, that lam not likely to recover the watch.’’ ‘*Well, it is doubtful. Still, if you will give me a description of it I can quietly put it into the hands of the Boston police.’’ Mr. Margrave, at the suggestion of the detective, wrote out a description before he left the boat, and put it into his hands. ‘‘T will keep my eyes open, Mr. Margarave,’’ con- tinued the detective, ‘‘and notice whether I recognize any professional thief among the passengers. I kuow many of those who operate in New York and Boston, and if I meet one of my old acquaintances shall take the liberty of examining him.’’ Fortunately for Peter Kirby the scene of his opera- tions had been at the West, atid though the detective regarded him with some suspicion, for criminals carry about with them a certain tell-tale look, he did not feel justified in arresting him. If Margrave had been able to identify him as the man who had been loitering near the stateroom, of course that would have simpli- fied matters. It was not for some time that Dean heard what had happened. On re-entering the saloon, Dan, the young news agent, said to him: ‘*Where have you been?’’ ‘*Outside.’’ ‘*Very suspicious. A gentleman occupying an outside stateroom has had his room entered and robhed.’’ ‘‘Is that true??? asked Dean in excitement. ‘*Yes, he made a great fuss about it. I saw him go- ing out with the boat detective, but I don’t think they found out anything.’’ Instantly Dan’s mind reverted to the scene at the theatre, and the loss of a pocket-book by one of the pat- rons of Niblo’s. Was it possible that Mr. Kirby could be connected with both robberies? It really seemed that thefts took place wherever he went. ‘*What was taken?’’ he asked earnestly. ‘*A gold watch. The gentleman meant it for his daughter. I think it was bought at Tiffany’s in New Vork? ‘‘T was at a theatre last evening,’’ said Dean, ‘‘and as we were coming out a man ahead of us called out _that he had been robbed of his pocket-book.”’ ‘“Who do you mean by us—yourself and your em- ployer?”’ ‘‘No. A boy was with me—Guy Gladstone.’ ‘Is he with you here?’? ‘*No, he has gone out West to hunt Indians.”’ Dan, the news agent, laughed. ‘*Hle7ll be coming back soon without having seen an Indian, I have no doubt. I say, Dean, isn’t it rather ee that there are vobberies wherever you go? ; 708 ‘6Ves, it is singular,’’ said Dean ina musing tone. “Tt really looks suspicious,”’ continued Dan. ‘‘How- ever, you are my friend and I won’t give you away.’’ ‘¢No, don’t!’’ said Dean, accepting the joke in good humor. Dean walked away, plunged in thought. Again he went outside, and walked round to an unfrequented part of the steamer. Suddenly he saw a man in front of him draw something from his pocket, and with a quick movement throw it far out upon the water. It was light enough to see that it was a white pasteboard box of small size. : Rather surprised, Dean scanned the person who had done this, and to his further astonishment recognized him as Mr. Kirby, his employer. Turning quickly, Peter Kirby in his turp saw Dean’s eyes fixed upon him, and he became irritated and alarmed. ‘‘What are you.out here for??? he demanded harshly. : ‘Why, is there any harm in being out here?’ asked Dean surprised. Kirby saw that he had made a false move, and that this unreasonable taking to task of Dean was likely to excite the boy’s suspicions. ‘(No,?’ he answered, calming down, ‘‘I don’t know that there is any harm in being out here, but you might be imprudent and endanger your safety.’’ ‘How, Mr. Kirby?’’ : ‘¢T was once on board a stemer like this, when a boy about your age came out, got up on the rail, and by a sudden movement of the steamer was thrown into the water. The poor fellow was drowned.’’ ‘