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Full text of "Golden Argosy Magazine Volume 6 Number 20 (April 14, 1888)"

tered according 10 Act of Congress, in the year 1888, by Frank A. Munsev, hi the oifice of the Librarian of Congress, at Washino-con, D. C. 



Vfil VT NO 90 FRANK A. MUNSEY, J8r WARREN ST., 

V Ulm V J, i 11 U. U\J . PUBLISHER. | NEW YORK. 



NEW YORK, SATURDAY, APRIL 14, 1888. 



TERMS: ^3.-™ ANNUM, Wj^g Nq _ 2 80. 



IN ADVANCE. 




Whe Sslden'MaiFiel: 



THE TREASURE CAVE OF THE INCA8. 

BY G. M FENN, 

Author of " I11 the Wilds of New Mexico" etc., etc. 



THE GUIDE AND I CREPT TO THE EDGE OF THE MIGHTY PRECIPICE, 

AND SAW TOM GILBERT HANGING THERE, CLINGING 

DESPERATELY TO THE MULE'S 

LEATHERN liKIDLE, 



CHAPTER I. 

WE START ON OUR JOURNEY. 

WAS always a boy of an adventurous 
turn of mind, and I had fully deter- 
mined to go abroad. 



" Tom," I said one morning, perhaps, 
rather abruptly, " I am going out to 
my Uncle Reuben's plantation in South 
America." 

" South America, Harry !" replied 
Tom, eagerly, " why, that's just the 



I had been thinking over my plans for very place I want to go to, too." 
a long time before I broached them to "Tom, I don't believe it," I said 

my friend Tom Gilbert. sharply. " If I had told you I was going 



306 



THE GOLDEN ARGOSY. 



NUMBER 280. 



to Australia or Timbuctoo, you would 
have said just the same thing." 

" Dare say I should, Harry," answered 
Tom with a grin. " Any way I'm going 
with you." 

At this point our conversation was in- 
terrupted by the appearance on the scene 
of my father. 

" What are you two boys quarreling 
about ?" he inquired, with an assumption 
of severity which deceived nobody. 

"We were not quarreling at all, 
father," I replied, in a voice that trem- 
bled a little. I had made up my mind to 
tell him all about my plans, and I felt 
rather nervous as to the way in which he 
would take them. 

But how should I begin ? I hesitated 
for a moment, when Tom Gilbert solved 
the problem by blurting out bluntly : 

" Harry's going abroad, sir, and he 
said I wasn't going with him, and I said 
I was — that's all." 

"Oh, he's going abroad, is he?" said 
my father. 

"Yes, sir," I replied, " I have made 
up my mind to go and see if Uncle 
Reuben can find me anything to do." 

" I hope you don't think that you are 
going to lead a life of idleness out there, 
sir?" 

"Oh no, sir," I replied, "I mean to 
work." 

" Humph !" said my father ; and then, 
without another word, he walked back 
into the house. 

" I am glad," cried Tom, rubbing his 
hands together softly. " What a time of 
it we shall have, Harry !" 

It was my turn now to be silent, and I 
stood watching Tom, and thinking as I 
struggled with myself that it would, 
after all, be very pleasant to have a 
sturdy trustworthy fellow like Tom al- 
ways at my side when I was in a strange 
land. 

For I had read that the descendants of 
the old Spaniards in South America were 
courtly, noble looking gentlemen enough, 
but were bitter and revengeful, and not 
always disposed to look with favor upon 
foreigners. How did I know but in my 
fortune seeking adventures — for truly 
enough I meant to go out to seek my 
fortune — I might make enemies, and be 
some time or another in danger? Then 
it would be well to have such a comrade 
as Tom at my side. 

I must tell you how it was that I had 
decided to go abroad. My father's busi- 
ness was the very unromantic one of 
soap boiling. He owned a small boiling 
house in the quiet country village where 
I had been born and brought up, and 
was very proud of the hard yellow bars 
that it turned out. He had helped to 
keep no end of people clean, and made a 
comfortable living thereby ; but the 
business was no longer what it had 
been, and seemed to get worse and 
worse every year. Competition grew 
sharper and sharper, and our small fac- 
tory was being driven to the wall by the 
large works, with their improved ma- 
chinery and greater capital. 

My father himself had reluctantly ad- 
mitted that unless things changed in 
some unexpected way it was useless for 
me to enter the business, and that I had 
better look out for some other opening 
in life. 

My thoughts naturally turned to Uncle 
Reuben — my mother's brother, who had 
emigrated to South America, and had, 
by all accounts, made a handsome for- 
tune by raising sugarcane. 

The brief conversation of that morn- 
ing was the first, but by no means the 
last mention of my important project. 
Many were the discussions on the»sub- 
ject in the family councils, which I will 
not weary the reader by relating. It is 
enough to say that it was finally settled 
that I should have my own way in the 
matter. Nobody but myself supposed 
that I should find my fortune in South 
America ; but all agreed that even if I 
returned in a few months with a tattered 
coat and empty pockets, the trip would 
do me good and give me a chance to 
pick up useful information. At any rate, 
it was scarcely possible that I should 
come to serious harm. 

Nor had my friend Tom Gilbert much 
difficulty in securing leave to accompany 
me. He was an orphan, and his guar- 
dian, who took very little interest in the 
boy, was rather pleased at getting this 
opportunity to be rid, for a time at least, 
of his troublesome ward. 



The next few weeks passed rapidly 
away. There were many preparations 
for our approaching journey, which I 
need not describe ; tearful farewells, 
which I do not care to think of ; and 
then we were speeding down by railroad 
to the great seaport where we were to 
embark on the steamer, for Havana, 
after which the rest of our voyage would 
have to be accomplished in a smaller 
trading vessel. 



CHAPTER II.. 

AT LA GUAYKA. 

ST was nearly three weeks later that I 
was leaning over the rail of the 
steamer Orinoco, which had just 
come to anchor in the open road- 
stead off the port of La Guayra. Calm 
as it was, we could still feel the great 
swell that came softly sweeping in, mak- 
ing the steamer rock and roll first to this 
side, then to that, till, heavily laden 
though she was, she careened over so 
that her copper glistened in the sun. 

I was beginning to feast my eyes upon 
the beauty of the place, when Tom, who 
was right forward, shouted to me to 
come, and as I glanced at him I saw 
that he was waving his hands so excit- 
edly that there must be something worth 
seeing, and I ran forward. 

"Here's something for you to have a 
look at, Harry," he cried, pointing down 
over the side of the vessel. 

Sure enough there were two great 
sharks, twelve or fourteen feet long, 
cruising around in the clear water under 
the steamer's bows. 

" I'd like to fish for those fellows," con- 
tinued Tom. "Let's see if they'd go at 
a bait." 

" How ?" I cried. 

" Stop a moment, and I'll show you," 
he said ; and running to where one of 
the firemen was having a quiet pipe on 
deck, I saw Tom accost him, and then 
go down into the stoke hole, to come up 
again directly with a big lump of slaty 
coal, bearing which he joined me. 

"Let's drop this in gently," he said, 
" just over them ; or, no, it would make 
such a splash some of the sailors would 
come to see. I've got a piece of string 
in my pocket." 

Tom always had a piece of string in 
his pocket, and unrolling it he loosely 
tied it round the lump of coal. Then, 
getting well on the bulwark, he raised 
the coal gently up and over the side, be- 
ginning to lower it down. 

"Take care you don't go over instead 
of the coal, Tom," I said, with a grim 
smile. 

The sharks were just below us, and 
eight or ten feet down, as Tom lowered 
the piece of coal right to the surface, 
without making any splash and disturb- 
ing the water so as to interrupt our view 
of what we hoped would take place. 
Then giving the string a jerk he loosened 
the coal, which began to descend rapidly, 
its bright black surface flashing in the 
brilliant sunshine. When it was half 
way down, there was a tremendous swirl 
in the water, which danced and flashed 
and obscured our vision. Then by de- 
grees the water calmed down, and there 
were the two sharks still there, but turned 
round with their heads in a fresh direc- 
tion. 

"Why, they took the coal, and one of 
them's swallowed it. Harry," cried Tom, 
excitedly. 

"No, Tom ; I think I can see it right 
down below there," I said; "but they 
did have a try at it." 

" What are you young fellows doing 
there ?" said a voice ; and, as we turned 
sharply round, there stood the captain. 
"What! Are you fishing? " 

" No, sir," said Tom ; " I only dropped 
something over to see if the big fish 
there would take it." 

" Oh, I see ! " he exclaimed. "Sharks ! 
Yes, there are plenty of them, my lads. 
No bathing here. You should get the 
cook to give you a lump of bad pork, 
and hang that over by the string : that 
would fetch them." 

Tom took the hint, and running to the 
cook told him what the captain said, re- 
turning at the end of a minute to where 
I was still watching the two monsters, 
the captain having gone. 

" I'll tie this on, Harry," cried Tom, 
suiting the action to the word. " Don't 
I wish we had a hook ! " 

The piece of meat was soon firmly se- 



cured, and, twisting one end of the string 
round his hand, Tom took his old place 
beside me, chuckling and laughing, and 
began to lower down his bait, which was 
soon floating on the surface of the water. 

Almost at the same moment it appeared 
as if, without the slightest movement, 
one of the sharks was growing bigger 
and closer. It seemed to fascinate us, 
so cautiously did it rise nearer and 
nearer, till all of a sudden it rolled right 
over on its side, showing the creamy 
white of its under parts ; there was a 
gleam of teeth, a swirl in the water, and 
the greasy lump of salt pork disappeared. 

As it did so I saw Tom's arm give a 
sudden jerk, and as he uttered a yell I 
realized what was wrong. Flinging my 
arms round him, I threw myself inboard, 
so that I dragged him with me, and we 
fell together upon the deck. 

"Oh, my eye!" gasped Tom, as we 
sat up on the deck ; and he held up his 
hand, beginning to unwind the broken 
string, and showing how deeply it had 
cut into the flesh before it gave way. 

" What an escape, Tom ! " I cried, and 
as I spoke I felt that I must be looking 
very white. 

" I should have gone overboard if you 
hadn't laid hold of me, Harry," he said, 
looking blankly in my face. " How 
strong that string was, and how it cut ! " 

"How stupid of you to tie it round 
your hand like that ! " I said. 

" Well, I suppose it was, Harry," he 
said, ruefully ; " but one didn't think of 
it then." 

CHAPTER III. 

A NIGHT ALARM. 

j^{ S the shuddering feeling of what 
Tom had escaped passed off, we 
both thought it would be better to 
say nothing about it. We knew that he 
had acted foolishly ; and I felt that we 
ought to have known better, and then 
soon enough, boy like, we forgot it all. 

For there was a bright future spread 
before us, and I began to wonder how it 
was that, with such lovely places on the 
face of the earth, people could be con- 
tent to live in our Northern land, with its 
cold winter seasons. There, seen through 
the bright, transparent atmosphere, were 
convent, cathedral, castle, and tower, 
grouped at the foot of a mountain, glis- 
tening with endless tints as it towered 
up nine thousand feet, wall and battle- 
ment running up the spurs of the great 
eminence. 

The scene was lovely, and I was in 
raptures then with all that lay before 
me, and again I asked myself how peo- 
ple could be content in the chilly North- 
ern countries ; but I soon understood all 
that. 

Tom was walking by my side, and 
turning to him : 

"What do you think of it, Tom?" I 
said. 

" Hum ! " he growled out ; " there's a 
pretty good view. But goodness," he 
continued, with a sudden start, "do you 
see those sharks, Harry?" 

I followed his pointing finger, and, to 
my horror, I could see, cleaving the blue 
and creamy foamed water, close inshore, 
the black fins of one — two — three — half 
a score of sharks ; while all the time, 
dashing and splashing in and out of the 
surf, busily unloading boats and larger 
vessels, were dozens of mulatto porters. 

I expected every moment to hear a 
shriek and to see the silver foam tinged 
with red. My heart beat intermittently, 
and there was a strange dampness in my 
hands ; but I soon learned that familiar- 
ity bred contempt, and that probably 
from the noise and splashing kept up, 
the sharks rarely ventured an attack. 
But all the same, the sight made me gaze 
down into the blue depths where we 
were at anchor with a shudder, and think 
that the waters were not so safe as those 
of home. 

I had yet to learn something of the new 
land. 

"What's this place called, Harry?" 
said Tom, interrupting my reverie. 
" You did tell me, but I've forgotten." 

" La Guayra." 

" Humph ! " ejaculated Tom. " Why 
can't they call places by some name in 
plain English? " 

But the varieus strange sights and 
sounds soon silenced Tom's tongue, and 
tired out at last with a long walk, we 
went to the house that had been recom- 



mended to us, and after partaking of 
coffee — the best I ever remember to have 
drunk, we sought our room. My last 
waking recollections were of the pungent 
fumes of tobacco, and the tinkle, tinkle, 
twang of a guitar beneath my window. 

I must have been asleep about three 
hours, and I was dreaming of having 
found gold enough to load a vessel home- 
ward bound, when I was wakened by 
some one shaking me violently, and as I 
started up I- became aware of a deafen- 
ing noise, a choking sensation as of dust 
rising in a cloud, and the voice of Tom 
Gilbert. 

" Harry, Harry .' Wake up, will 
you?" 

" What's the matter ? " I gasped, spring- 
ing out of bed, but only to reel and stag- 
ger about before falling heavily. 

"That's just how it served me," said 
Tom. " Kneel down, the same as I do. 
The floor's going just like the deck of a 
ship." 

"Where are you ? " I cried, trying to 
collect my scattered faculties, for, 
awakened so suddenly from a deep sleep, 
I was terribly confused. 

" Oh, I'm here ! " said Tom. " Give's 
your hand. But, I say, Harry, what does 
it mean ? Do all the houses get dancing 
like this every night? Because, if so, I'll 
sleep in the fields. There it goes again ! 
What a row ! " 

Tom might well exclaim, for with the 
house rocking frightfully, now came from 
outside the peal as of a thousand thun- 
ders, accompanied by the clang of bell, 
the crash of falling walls, the sharp 
cracking and splitting of wood work, and 
the yelling and shrieking of people run- 
ning to and fro. 

"So this is a native storm, Harry?" 
shouted Tom to me during a pause. 

" No ! " I shouted in answer, as with a 
shiver of dread I worded the fearful sus- 
spicion that had flashed across my brain. 
" No, Tom, it's an earthquake ! " 

"Is that all?" grumbled Tom. "Well, 
it might have come in the daytime, and 
not when folks were tired. But I thought 
ea'rthquakes swallowed you up." 

" Here, for Heaven's sake help me at 
this door, Tom ! " I shouted, " or we shall 
be crushed to death. Here, push — 
hard ! ' 

But our efforts were vain, for just then 
came another shock, and one side of the 
room split open from floor to ceiling. 

" The window — the window, Tom ! " I 
shrieked. And then, thoroughly roused 
to our danger, we both made for the 
casement, reaching it just as, with a noise 
like thunder, down went the whole build- 
ing ! 

It seemed to me I had been struck a 
violent blow. The next instant I was 
struggling amongst broken wood, dust, 
and plaster, fighting fiercely to escape , 
for there was a horrible dread upon me 
that at the next throe of the earthquake 
we should be buried alive far down in 
the bowels of the earth. 

How it all happened I know not, but 
jhe next minute I was at liberty. 

" Tom — Tom ! " I shouted, feeling 
about, for the darkness was fearful. 
" Where are you ? " 

"All right, Harry," was the reply; 
" close beside you." 

" Here, give meyour hand," I shouted, 
and let's run down to the shore." 

For in my horror that was the first 
place that occurred to me. 

" I can't," said Tom. " I've got no 
legs. You can't feel them about there 
anywhere,, can you?" 

" What do you mean ?" I cried. " This 
is no time for fooling ! Look sharp, or 
we shall lose our lives." 

"Well, so I am looking sharp," growled 
Tom. "Ain't I looking for my legs? I 
can't feel them anywhere. Oh, here they 
are ! " 

Poor Tom was not joking. By this 
time I had crawled to him over the ruins 
of the house, to find that he was jammed 
in amongst the rubbish, which rose to his 
knees. As he told me afterward, the 
shock had produced a horrible sensation, 
just as if his legs had been taken off, a 
sensation heightened by the fact that he 
could feel down to his knees and no 
farther. 

" This is a pleasant spot to take a house 
on lease, Harry," he said, as I tore at the 
woodwork. 

" Are you hurt?" 1 exclaimed hastily. 

" Not as I know of, Harry, only mv 

legs have no feeling in them. Stop a 



APR". 1*. IBM. 



THE GOLDEN ARGOSY. 



307 



minute, I think I can get that one out 
now." 

We worked so hard, that at the end of 
a few minutes Tom was at liberty, and 
after chafing his legs a little he was able 
to stand. 

Meanwhile the horrors around were 
increasing every instant. To my excited 
fancy, it seemed as if the earth was like 
some thick piece of carpet, which was 
being made to undulate and pass in waves 
from side to side. 

Dust everywhere, choking, palpable 
dust ; and then as from afar off came a 
faint roar, increasing each moment, till, 
with a furious rush, a fierce wind came 
tearing through the ruins of the smitten 
town, sweeping all before it. We had to 
cower down and seek protection from 
the storm of earth, sand, dust, plaster, 
and fragments hurled against us by the 
hurricane. 

But the rush of wind was as brief as it 
was fierce, and it passed away. In the 
lull that followed, there came shrieks and 
moans from all directions, and the sounds 
of hurrying, stumbling feet, and then all 
at once, from out of the thick darkness a 
voice cried in our own tongue : 

" Quick — quick ! To the mountain — 
the sea is coming in ! " 

Then came more wails and shrieks 
from out of the darkness, followed by a 
silence that was more awful than the 
noise. 

For full five minutes that silence lasted, 
broken only by the fall of some tottering 
beam. Then came quickly, one after the 
other, short, sharp, shivering vibrations 
of the earth beneath our feet— a shudder- 
ing movement that was transferred to 
one's own frame. 

I began to understand the meaning of 
the cry we had heard respecting the sea, 
for from the direction where I supposed 
it to be, there now came a singular hiss- 
ing, rushing noise, gradually increasing 
to a roar, as of mighty waves. Mingled 
with that roar there was the creaking and 
grinding together* of shipping and the 
hoarse shouting of the crews for help. 

But gradually the noises ceased, save 
when a shuddering shock once more 
made the earth to tremble beneath our 
feet, and some scrap of wood or plaster 
to fall from riven wall or roof. The tre- 
mendous choking dust, too, began to 
settle down as we groped our way along 
over the ruins that choked the streets. 

Now we were lost — now, after a 
struggle, we regained the way, trying to 
join one of the hurrying bands of fugi- 
tives hastening from the place. 

I spoke to one man, asking him if 
there was any more danger, but his reply- 
was in Spanish ; and at last, led by Tom 
— who seemed by instinct to know his 
way — we went down to the shore, strewn 
with wreck, when, seizing a rope, and 
drawing a boat to the sand, Tom told me 
to enter, and we half lay there, rising 
and falling upon the wave — rocked gently, 
but wakeful ever, till the sun rose over 
the sea — bright, glorious, and peaceful, 
as if there had been no havoc and deso- 
lation during the night. 



CHAPTER IV. 
tom's peril. 

©'AY, Harry, you won't stop in this 

s|S awful place, will you ? " said Tom, 

*«•' as, in the full light of day, we were, 
some hours after, busily helping in the 
town, extricating the dead and wounded, 
and assisting to bear them to the tempor- 
ary hospital prepared for their reception. 

The house where we had slept was, 
like hundreds more of the lightly built 
tenements, prostrate ; on visiting the 
scene our escape seemed wonderful. 
Everywhere the mischief done was apall- 
ing — houses toppled down, streets choked 
with ruins, towers split from top to bot- 
tom, and stones hurled from the unroofed 
buildings into the gaping cracks and fis- 
sures running down the streets. 

But now that the first fright was over, 
people seemed to take the matter very 
coolly, flocking back into the town, to sit 
and smoke and eat fruit amidst the ruins 
of their homes, while others quietly set to 
work to restore and repair damages. 

" Has there ever been an earthquake 
here before?" I said to a merchant who 
spoke English. 

"Earthquakes, my dear scnor .' Yes. 
they are'common things here." 

" But will the inhabitants rebuild the. 
town ?" 



"Surely. Why not? The site is 
charming." 

I had my thoughts upon the subject, 
but I did not express them ; so, too, had 
Tom, but he did express his as above. 

"Say, Harry, you won't stop here, will 
you ?" 

'.'No," I said ; "we are going up the 
country." 

" Because this place ain't safe — there's 
a screw loose underground somewhere. 
Not that I mind. Earthquakes ain't so 
much account after all, if they'd come in 
the day time ; but all the same, I wouldn't 
stop here." 

I had had no intention of stopping, 
only just long enough to see the place 
and make arrangements for the prose- 
cution of our journey. This catastrophe 
hurried the departure, and at the end of 
three days we were both mounted on 
mules, traveling over hot, bare plains, 
with the sun pouring down until one's 
brain seemed scorched. When at last 
water was reached, it was thick and 
muddy looking, so that but for our hor- 
rible thirst we could not have touched it. 

My ideas of South America had been 
undergoing a great change during the 
past few days, and, quite disappointed, in 
the midst of a long, burning ride, I 
made some remark to Tom about the 
heat. 

"Hot, Harry!" he said. "This ain't 
hot. 'Tis a little warmer than the other 
place, because there is no sea breeze, 
but I could stand a good deal more than 
this. These mules — will you be quiet, 
then? — these mules are the worst of it, 
though. They won't go like a horse, 
nor yet like a donkey ; and as to kick- 
ing " 

Tom stopped short, for he wanted his 
breath for other purposes, his steed hav- 
ing once more turned refractory, kick- 
ing, rearing, shaking itself in an effort 
to dislodge its rider, spinning round and 
round, laying its long ears flat upon its 
neck, tucking its tail close in between its 
legs, and then squeaking and squealing 
in the most outrageous manner imagin- 
able. 

At first I was in a state of tremor lest 
his vagaries should infest the beasts rid- 
den by myself and the guide ; but no, 
they were evidently elderly mules — bor- 
dering on a hundred they might have 
been, from their gray and mangy aspect. 

" Oh, senor," said the guide, proudly, 
" the mule is perfect ! He is a magnifi- 
cent beast, but he has his antipathies. 
He used to be ridden by the padre, and 
he is a most holy and Christian mule. 
He shows his dislike a little sometimes 
like that, because the senor who rides 
him is a heretic." 

"Oh !" I said. 

"Yes, it is so, senor, I assure you," 
said the guide. "Let your friend ride 
my beast and I will take his, and then 
you will see how peaceable he is." 

At first Tom did not seem disposed to 
agree, for he did not like being beaten ; 
but I ordered him to dismount, his acci- 
dents tending so greatly to lengthen our 
journey. So the exchange of mules was 
made, and on we went once more. 

"See, senor!" said the guide. "He 
is a pattern mule, is Juan ; he goes like 
a lamb." 

" Haw, haw, haw, haw ! Look at that, 
Harry — there's a game ! " roared Tom, 
for the guide had hardly done speaking, 
just as we were traveling pleasantly 
along, before Juan, the mule, stopped 
short, put his head between his legs, ele- 
vated his hind quarters, and the next 
moment the guide was sitting amongst 
the stones, staring up at us with a most 
comical expression of countenance. 

"The beast has been cursed ! " he cried, 
angrily, as he rose. " Car-r-r-r — r-r-r-r- 
ambo ! But you shall starve for this, 
Juan ! " 

" Let me have a turn at him," cried 
Tom, as he started off to catch the mule, 
which had cantered off a few hundred 
yards, and was searching about with his 
nose amongst the sand and stones for a 
few succulent blades of grass, where 
there was not so much as a thistle or a 
cactus to be seen. 

But Juan had no wish to be caught, 
and, after leading his pursuer a tolerable 
race, he stopped short, and placed all 
four hoofs together, so as to turn easily, 
as upon a pivot, presenting always his 
tail to the hand that caught at his bridle. 

" Poor fellow, then ! Come, then — 
come over," 5a,id T om , soothingly, 



But the only response he obtained was 
an occasional lift of the beast's heels, 
and an angry kick. 

"You ignorant brute, you can't un- 
derstand plain English !" cried Tom 
angrily. 

"No, senor, he is a true Spanish 
mule," said the guide, coming up. 

Between them, Tom and he managed 
to catch Juan. Holding tightly by the 
reins, the guide vented his displeasure 
and took his revenge by thoroughly 
drumming the poor brute's rjbs with a 
stout stick, after which Tom mounted, 
and our journey for the next two hours 
■was without incident. 

But we were not to get to the end of 
the day without an alarming mishap. 
The sun had begun to descend, and we 
were panting along, longing for the 
sight of water to quench our burning 
throats, when Juan began to show that 
the pain from the guide's drubbing had 
evaporated. 

First of all he indulged in a squeal or 
two, then he contrived to kick the mule 
I rode upon one of its legs. Embold- 
ened by the success of this maneuver, 
he waited his time, and then, sidling up 
to his companion ridden by the guide, 
he discharged a fierce kick at him, 
nearly catching the guide in the shin ; 
but the result was a tremendous crack 
from a stick right upon Juan's back — a 
blow which made him shake his head 
with dissatisfaction till his ears rattled. 

He had forgotten the pain, though, in 
ten minutes, and the first hint we had 
thereof was a squeal and feat of sleight 
of heel, in which, to all appearances, 
Juan stood perpendicularly upon his 
nose and fore feet for half a minute, 
while his rider, or rather his late rider, 
rolled over and over, the center of a 
cloud of impalpable dust, coughing and 
sneezing, and muttering fiercely. 

"There!" exclaimed Tom, as he 
jumped up and began beating the dust 
from his garments. "That's four times 
that brute has had me off today. Now 
just you try him half an hour, Harry, to 
see what he's like." 

" Not I, thank you, Tom," was my 
reply. " I'm very well content." 

"So am I, Harry, only he makes me 
so sore ; but I'm not beaten yet, I can 
tell him. Come over, then !" 

But the mule would not " come over, 
then !" and there ensued a fierce fight 
between Tom and his steed. 

It might have been imagined, to see 
the artful feints and moves, that the 
mule was endowed with human reason. 
Tom was more than a match for him at 
last, though, for, slipping off his jacket, 
he threw it over the mule's head and 
held it there, and before it could re- 
cover from its surprise Tom was once 
more seated upon its back in triumph. 

Apparently cowed, now that the jacket 
was removed, the mule journeyed on 
very peaceably, till, leaving the plain, 
we began to ascend a precipitous moun- 
tain side, the track each moment grow- 
ing more and more sterile, grand, and 
at the same time dangerous. And now 
it was that we began to see the qualities 
of the mules in the cautious way they 
picked their steps, feeling each loose 
piece of path before trusting their weight 
to it, and doing much towards removing 
a strange sensation of tremor evoked by 
the fact that we were progressing along 
a shelf of rugged rock some two feet 
wide, the scarped mountain side upon 
our right, a vast precipice on the left. 

More than once I was for getting down 
to walk, but the guide dissuaded me, as 
he declared that it was far better to trust 
to the mules, who were never known to 
slip. 

A couple of miles of traveling served 
to somewhat reassure me, familiarity 
with danger breeding contempt ; and I 
called out to Tom : 

" I hope your beast won't bear malice, 
Tom, for this would be an awkward place 
for him to try his capers." 

I said so thoughtlessly, just at a time 
when we were descending, Tom's beast, 
which was before me, walking along with 
the most rigorous care as to where he 
set his feet. 

" Oh ! Don't, Harry," whined Tom, 
"don't! This mule understands every 
word you say ! I'm not afraid, only he 
might — " 

Tom's sentence was not finished ; for, 
in fact, just as if every word I had ut- 
tered had been comprehended, down 



went the beast's head, his heels were 
elevated, and the next moment, to my 
horror, poor Tom was over the side of 
the path, and rolling swiftly down to 
apparent destruction. 

He was brought up, though, the next 
moment, by the reins, which he tightly 
grasped, and which, fortunately, did not 
give way, though they tightened with a 
jerk that must have nearly dislocated the 
mule's neck. 

The leather strained and stretched, 
but luckily held firm ; while, planting its 
fore feet close to the edge of the preci- 
pice, and throwing its body back against 
the scarped wall, the mule stood firm as 
the rock itself, but snorting loudly, as 
with glaring eyeballs it stared down at 
Tom. 

The poor fellow hung there, trying to 
obtain some rest for his feet, but utter- 
ing no sound, only gazing up at us with 
a wild look that said plainly as could be, 
" Don't leave me here to die ! " 

It was no easy task to help him ; for 
the guide and I had both to dismount on 
a narrow ledge of rock, clinging the 
while to our mules ; but we achieved 
that part of our task, and the next mo- 
ment, one on each side of Juan, we 
were kneeling down and trying to reach 
Tom's hands. 

But our efforts were vain, for the mule 
was in the way, and there was not stand- 
ing room for all three. There was but 
one way of helping, and that looked too 
desperate to be attempted, and I hesi- 
tated to propose it as I knelt shivering 
there. 

The same thought, though, had oc- 
curred to Tom, and in a husky voice he 
said : 

"Take hold of the guide's hand, Harry, 
and creep under the mule's legs to his 
side." 

It was no time to hesitate ; and I did 
as I was told, the mule giving utterance 
to an almost human shriek as 1 passed. 

"Now can you both reach the bridle?" 
Tom whispered. 

" Yes, yes ! " we both exclaimed. 

" Hold on tight then, while one of you 
cuts it through, and then the mule will 
be out of the way." 

We each took a good grip of the leath- 
ern thong, raising it so that we had Tom's 
full weight upon our muscles ; and then 
crouching down so as not to be drawn 
over, I hastily drew out my knife, opened 
it with some difficulty by means of my 
teeth, and then tried to cut the bridle 
above our hands. 

But feeling himself partly relieved of 
his burden, the mule began to grow rest- 
less, stamping, whinnying, and trying to 
get free. 

For a moment I thought we might 
utilize his power, and make him back and 
help draw Tom up; but the narrowness 
of the ledge forbade it, and he would 
only have been drawn sidewise till the 
rein broke. 

Twice I tried to cut the bridle, but 
twice the mule balked me, and I was 
glad to ease the fearful strain on one arm 
by catching at the hand that held the 
knife. 

" Try again, Harry, please," whispered 
Tom. "I can't hang much longer." 

With a desperate effort 1 cut again at 
the rein, and divided it close to the 
mule's mouth. 

He started back a few inches, tighten- 
ing the other rein ; but now, once more, 
I was grasping the thong with both hands 
lest it should slip through my fingers. 
At the same moment the knife fell, strik- 
ing Tom on the cheek and making the 
blood spuw out, before flying down — 
down to a depth that was horrible to 
contemplate. 

It was a fearful time, and as I crouched 
there a cold sensation seemed to be creep- 
ing through the marrow of all my bones. 
We' could not raise Tom for the mule, 
I could not cut the rein, and upon asking 
I found that the guide had no knife, and, 
what was worse, it was evident that he 
was losing nerve. 

I dared not try to heave— it would have 
been madness, cumbered and crowded 
together as we were ; and in those brief 
moments of agony it seemed to me. that I 
was Tom's murderer, for, but on account 
of my wild thirst for coming abroad, he 
might have been safe at home. 

"Try — try again, Harry," whispered 
the poor fellow imploringly, "Don't 
leave me here to die ! " 

(To be continued.) 



308 



THE GOLDEN ARGOSY. 



NUMBER 280. 



THE MOUNTAIN'S SONG. 

BY R. K. MUNKITTRICK. 

I am a mountain high and great, 

That storms assault in vain ; 
For centuries in rugged state 

I've brooded o'er the plain. 

I wear a mantle made of trees 

And dashed with silver streams; 
I note far distant shining seas 

And cities in my dreams. 
Unmoved I watch the rumbling world. 

With all its toils and woes, 
And thunderbolts against me hurled 

But lull me to repose. 
Though skies may smile orskies may frown 

Through ages passing fleet, 
My forehead wears a golden crown, 

And flowers robe my feet. 
4-+> 

Rape G©ms. 

PART II. 

§EFORE leaving the subject of cents, 
it may be mentioned that the old 
copper cents, when uncirculated 
and fresh from the mint, were of a 
bright reddish color. This no doubt 
gave rise to the expression "Not worth 
a red cent," often applied to something 
of trifling value; but as a matter of fact, 
any one who possesses an old cent of 
rare date may congratulate himself if the 
coin is red, as this greatly increases the 
value of the specimen. A fine red cent 
of 1804 has, been known to bring as high 
a price as $200. Sometimes a reddish 
color is produced by scouring or treating 
with vinegar, but a dealer, or any one 
else with reasonably sharp eyes, can 
readily detect the difference. 

HALF CENTS. 

These interesting little coins are last 
on the list of copper pieces. Like the 
old fashioned cents, they were first 
minted in 1793 and last in 1857. Most of 
them are rated at more or less of a pre- 
mium, as will be seen from the following 
list: 

1793 $°-75 

1794 .... 0.20 

1795 - - - - - 0.10 

1796 - 5.00 

1797 ----- 0.05 
1800 . - - - 0.05 

1802 ----- 0.50 

1803 . . . . 0.02 

1804 ----- 0.02 

1805 ... . 0.02 

1806 ----- 0.02 

1807 - - . . 0.02 

1808 ----- 0.02 

1809 - O.OI 

1810 ----- O.IO 

1811 - - - - 0.25 

1825 ----- 0.02 

1826 - 0.02 

1828 ----- O.OI 

1829 - 0.02 

1831 ----- I. 00 

1832 - 0.02 

1833 ----- 0.02 

1834 - - - - 0.02 

1835 ----- O.OI 

1836 - 5.00 

1840 ----- 2.00 

1841 - 2.00 

1842 ----- 5.00 

1843 - - - - 5.00 

1844 2.50 

1845 - 2.50 

1846 2.50 

1847 - - - - 5.00 

1848 5.00 

1849 - - - - 0.05 

1850 0.05 

1851 - - _ - o.OI 

1852 ----- 3.00 

1854 - - - . 0.05 

1855 ----- 0.05 

1856 - - - . 0.02 

1857 ----- 0.05 
We have still to deal with the gold 

coins. These are less interesting to 
young collectors, whose capital rarely 
allows them to lay aside pieces of so 
great intrinsic value. Still, to complete 
our list of American coins, we will give 
in detail the various premiums obtain- 
able. 

DOUBLE EAGLES. 

The double eagle, or twenty dollar 
gold piece, was first struck in 1849, an d 
the coin of that year, bearing Liberty's 
head turned to the left, is very rare and 
valuable. It is rated at $50 in the pur- 
chasing lists of the dealers, but could 
probably be sold for a good deal more 
than that. There is no premium on the 
double eagles of other dates. 



EAGLES. 
None of these are worth much more 
than their face value, but several com- 
mand a slight premium: 

1795 $11.25 

1796 - - - - 1150 

1797, large eagle - - 10.50 

1797, small eagle - - 12.00 

1797, large eagle - • 10.50 

1798, four stars on right, 12.00 
1798, six stars on right, 11. 00 

1799 ----- 10.60 

1800 - - - - 10.60 

1801 -' - - - - 10.50 

1802 - - - . 12.00 

1803 - - - - - 10.50 

1804 . _ . - 10.60 
1838 ----- 11.00 

HALF EAGLES. 

A number of the earlier issues of half 
eagles, or five dollar gold pieces, com- 
mand a premium, and some of them are 
quite rare. We append a list: 

1795, small eagle - - $ 5.00 

1795, large eagle - 10.00 

1796 5-50 

1797, small eagle - 10.00 

1797, large eagle - - 10.00 

1798, small eagle - 7.50 
1798, large eagle - - 5.25 

1799 ... _ 6.00 

1800 ----- 5.25 

1801 - - - . 25.00 

1802 ----- 5.25 

1803 - - - - 5.25 

1804 ----- 5.25 

1805 - - - - 5.25 

1806 ----- 5.25 
1807, head of Liberty to 

right - - 5.50 
1S07, head of Liberty to 

left - - - 5.25 

1808 - - . . 5.25 

1809 ----- 5.25 

1810 - - - - 5.25 

1811 ----- 5.25 

1812 - - - - 5.25 

1813 ----- 5.25 

1814 - - - - 5.25 

1815 ----- 50.00 

1818 - 5.25 

1819 ----- 6.00 

1820 - 5.50 

1821 ----- 5.50 

1822 - - - 7.00 

1823 ----- 5.50 

1824 - - . - 10.00 
1825 5.50 

1826 - 5.50 

1827 ----- 5.50 

1828 - - - - 7.00 

1829 ----- 5.50 

1830 - - - - 5.20 
1831 5.20 

1832 - 5.20 

1833 - • - ■ - - - 5.20 
1834, similar to previous 

issues - - 5.50 

THREE DOLLAR PIECES. 

These coins are comparatively seldom 
seen, although a few have been coined 

every year since 1854. None of the dates 

are very rare, however, the following - 
being the only premiums paid: 

1873 - - - - - $3.25 

1875 - _ - - 4.00 

1876 ----- 3.25 

QUARTER EAGLES. 

Of the quarter eagles, or two dollars 
and a half gold pieces, the following are 
priced at more than their face value: 

1796, without stars - • $3.25 
1796, with stars - - 3.50 

1797 ----- 3.00 

1798 . _ _ . 3f00 

1800 ----- 4.00 

1801 - 4.00 

1802 ----- 3.00 

1804 - _ - _ 3.00 

1805 - - . . 3.00 

1806 - - - - 3.50 

1807 ----- 3.00 

1808 - - - 3.00 
1810 ----- 3.00 
1821 - - -■ - 2.75 

1824 ----- 2.60 

1825 - . - - 3.25 

1826 ----- 2.60 

1827 - . - - - 2.60 

1829 ----- 2.60 

1830 - - - _ 2 6o 
1831 2.60 

1832 - . - - - 2.60 

1833 ----- 2.60 
1834, with motto " E pluri- 

bus unum " - - 3.00 



GOLD DOLLARS. 

These, the smallest of the United 
States gold coinage, have been struck 
every year since 1S49, but only a few of 
them command any premium, none be- 
ing of great rarity : 

1870 ----- $1.25 

1871 - - . - 1.25 

1872 1.25 

1875 . . - . 2.00 

This completes the list of United States 
coins that bear a premium. On the sub- 
ject of foreign coins it is quite impossible 
to enter here, nor does the Argosy un- 
dertake to answer questions about them. 
Dealers will generally give the desired 
information if application is made to 
them accompanied by astamped envelope 
for reply ; and manuals, which give the 
value of every coin likely to be met with, 
can be purchased for a very small sum. 
The foreign coins most frequently found 
in this country, beside the Canadian 
money, are Spanish and Mexican coins 
which have no especial value. 

Nor have we space here to give a list 
of the Continental or colonial coins, the 
Territorial gold pieces, the United States 
fractional currency, the Revolutionary 
notes, Confederate bills, and the thou- 
sand and one varieties of medals, tokens, 
pattern pieces, essays, and proofs, known 
to the professional numismatist. 

A few of the commonest or most in- 
teresting of these may be mentioned 
with advantage. 

CONFEDERATE BILLS. 
Thousand dollar Confederate bills are 
worth $5 apiece to collectors. The five 
hundred dollar bills, with green face, 
issued at Montgomery, Alabama, are 
rated at the same figure. One, two, 
twenty, fifty, and one hundred dollar 
bills will bring only .$ 1 a hundred ; while 
five and ten dollar bills are so common 
that they are valued at but half a cent 
apiece, or 50 cents a hundred. 

TERRITORIAL COINS. 

A series of gold coins was issued from 
1849 to 1855 in California, the denomi- 
nations being 25 cents, 50 cents, $1. 
$2.50, $5, $10, $20, $25, and $50. There 
are several varieties of these, and all of 
them sell at a small premium, the rarest 
and most curious being the octagonal 
$50 pieces. 

Similar coins of $2.50, $5, $io, and $20 
were issued in Colorado. They bear a 
representation of Pike's Peak, and are 
not very rare. 

A $5 and a $10 gold piece were issued 
in Oregon in 1849, the chief design being 
a beaver. They are worth a little more 
than their face value as curiosities. The 
same thing may be said of the $2.50, $5, 
and $20 gold coins of Utah, which bear 
either a lion or an eye and cap. 

COLONIAL COINS. 

Only three or four gold pieces were 
issued during the colonial period, and 
these are all extremely scarce. The sil- 
ver pieces are more numerous and famil- 
iar, the earliest being the famous Pinetree 
Shilling, or twelve penny piece, issued 
in Massachusetts in 1650. In 1652 silver 
coins of 12, 6, 3 and 2 pence were struck, 
some again bearing a pinetree, others 
an oak. Among the commoner pieces is 
the Virginia shilling of 1773, with a 
shield on one side and a head of George 
III on the other. 

Coming to the copper colonial coins, 
we may mention the Virginia penny of 
1773, similar to the shilling just described, 
and worth from 10 to 20 cents; the pine- 
tree cent of Massachusetts, struck in 
1776, and valued at $20; a penny of 1772, 
with George I on one side, on the other 
a rose, and the words " Rosa Americana 
Utile Dulci," which is worth from 10 to 
30 cents. 

One curious coin is a Connecticut cent 
of 1737, on one side of which appears a 
stag, with the words "Value me as you 
please ;" on the other, three hammer- 
heads, and " I am good copper." This 
is worth $5, if in good condition. An- 
other cent of the same date bears an axe, 
and the legend " I cut my way through," 
and is valued at about the same figure. 

A number of interesting coins were 
issued in the several States between the 
declaration of independence in 1776 and 
the establishment of the first United 
States mint in 1793. Among them are 
Vermont cents, bearing a figure of Justice 
and the words " Immune Columbia," or 



showing Britannia with " Inde et lib." on 
one side, and " Vermon. Auctori " on 
the other; the former is rated at $1, the 
latter at 10 cents. New Jersey (Nova 
Ceesarea) cents were issued from 1786 to 
1788, distinguished by a horse's head 
and a shield. These are worth all the 
way from 2 cents to $10. Massachusetts 
cents show an Indian on one side, on the 
other an eagle, and are worth 10 or 15 
cents. There were also coins issued by 
New York, Connecticut, and other States, 
some of which are quite common. A 
cent of 1787, issued in Connecticut, bear- 
ing a head turned to the right, and 
" Auctori Connec." is worth from 2 to 5 
cents only; other types of that State 
bring 10 to 50 cents, while a few of the 
New York coins dated 1786 and 1787 are 
rated as high as $20 or $30. 

In conclusion, there are two facts that 
should be borne in mind. The first is, 
that coins in a rubbed and worn state 
are of little or no value for collections, 
and dealers will not purchase them at any 
price. The premiums given in the 
above lists are paid only for pieces in 
good condition, while higher prices — in 
some cases very much higher— can be 
obtained for coins that have not been in 
circulation, and are quite or very nearly 
as sharp and bright as when they came 
from the mint. 

Lastly, it should be remembered that 
the prices at which dealers purchase 
coins of all descriptions are far less than 
the figures at which they offer them for 
sale. To take one instance at random, 
the two cent piece of 1873 appears on the 
dealers' purchasing lists at 50 cents, but 
on their selling lists at from fi.50 to $2. 
A little reflection will show that this is 
not only fair but necessary; the dealer 
must allow a very large margin when he 
has his profit to make, and when the 
market price of the articles dealt in is so 
exceedingly liable to variation. Hence 
no one should expect to receive nearly 
as much for any rare coins he may have 
to dispose of, as he would have to pay 
for the same pieces in purchasing them 
from a dealer. 



CONQUERING COLLISIONS. 

It would seem that there is no limit to the 
favors and blessings which electricity is capable 
of bestowing upon man. The latest marvel 
which it makes possible is thus described by the 
Red Bank Register ; 

An invention of Herr Gieszl, of Brunn, Aus- 
tria, for preventing railway collisions is being 
highly spoken of among Austrian engineers. It 
consists of a pilot engine, or safety lorry, 
worked by electricity, and running at some dis- 
tance in front of the train. 

It stops the train automatically and runs at 
any speed. From a dynamo electric machine 
on the engine a current is conducted through 
the rails to the pilot engine. The engineer has 
the lorry perfectly under his control, and the 
distance between it and the locomotive may be 
varied to suit curves or other conditions of the 
lines. The pilot engine is fitted on the ex- 
terior with a number of glass vessels, one or 
more of which must be broken if they encounter 
any obstacle. The glass vessels contain mer- 
cury contacts, and as the breakage causes an in- 
terruption of the current, the vacuum brakes of 
the train are automatically applied. 

Two express trains running at full speed to- 
ward each other would thus be automatically 
stopped by the collision of their respective pilot 
engines. 



AN ALLIGATOR'S BANQUET. 

" Too lazy to eat" is an exaggerated way of 
expressing one's opinion of an indolent person. 
An alligator, however, comes next door to fill- 
ing the bill, for he lies still and waits till his 
food comes of its own volition into his mouth. 

It is a Southern writer, says the American 
Angler, who compares an alligator's throat to 
an animated sewer. Everything, says this cor- 
respondent, which lodges in the open mouth 
goes down. He is a lazy dog, and instead of 
hunting for something to eat he lets his victuals 
hunt for him. That is, he lies with his great 
mouth open, apparently dead, like the 'possum. 

Soon a beetle crawls into it, then a fly, then a 
gnat and a colony of mosquitoes. The alli- 
gator doesn't close his mouth yet. He is wait- 
ing for a whole drove of things. He does his 
eating by wholesale. 

A little later a lizard will cool himself under 
the shade of the upper jaw. Then a few frogs 
will hop up to catch the mosquitoes. Then more 
mosquitoes and gnats will alight on the frog. 
Finally a whole village of insects and reptiles 
settle down for an afternoon picnic. Then all 
at once there is an earthquake. The big jaw 
falls ; the alligator blinks one eye, gulps down 
the entire menagerie, and opens his great front 
door again for more visitors. 



APRIL 14, 1888. 



THE GOLDEN ARGOSY. 



309 



\This story commenced in No. 275.] 

Three Thirty Three ; 

OK, 

ALLAN TRENT'S TRIALS. 

By MATTHEW WHITE, JR., 
Author of" Eric Dane" " The Heir to White- 
cap" " The Denford Boys" etc. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

AN UNSATISFACTORY INTERVIEW. 

TaS Allan Trent here, or can you tell me 
where I can find him ? " 

Arthur, breathless and excited, had 
burst into the broker's office with this 
query. 

Mr. Chessman, the bookkeeper, was leaning 
against the railing, talking with two or three 
men who held open notebooks in their hands. 
He gazed at the newcomer with a singular ex- 
pression as he shrugged his 
shoulders. 

" I know nothing about 
the young man," he said. 

"Hasn't he been here 
today ? " 

" He was here this morn- 
ing."" 

' ' And didn't he say 
where you could find 
him ? " , 

" I guess he isn't parti- 
cularly anxious about it." 

" What do you mean ? " 

Arthur began to grow 
annoyed at the exasper- 
ating independence of the 
clerk who had hitherto al- 
ways been so deferential 
and polite. 

The men with the note 
books exchanged smiles. 

" Have you read this 
morning's papers ? " 

Chessman put the ques- 
tion in a patronizing tone 
that was particularly offen- 
sive to Arthur, who now 
began to experience what 
it meant to champion a fal- 
len comrade. But he put 
a curb on his pride, and en- 
deavored to keep his tem- 
per. 

" Yes," he answered, 
" but I don't see what that 
has to do with your not 
knowing Allan's address." 

" But if you, his best 
friend, don't know, I don't 
see how you can expect 
other people to have it." 

"I have been away, 
though, and the house on 
the Heights is all closed 
up. I have very important 
news for him, and thought 
surely you could tell me 
where I could find him." 

"Look here, Seymour," 
returned Chessman, ad- 
vancing a few steps, and 
giving his voice a semi 
confidential air, "the 
Trents.orthe Fords, which- 
ever you please to call them, 
have nothing more to do 
with this office. Every- 
thing belongs to the cred- 
itors, "whose interests I now 
serve. This is what I told 
Master Allan when he 
called this morning to ar- 
range about turning over 
the house in Brooklyn to 
the same parties. Allan 
is under age, his father — 
well, the less said of him 
the better — and the wife 
has turned over everything 
for the benefit of those 
who lost by that misappro- 
priation of the bonds." 

"And I should think 
that would be enough to silence this disgrace- 
ful charge against Mr. Trent," burst forth 
Arthur, impetuously. "Isn't he and his family 
suffering more than anybody else ? " 

" Very true, Master Seymour, for the present 
no doubt they are," returned the clerk, blandly. 
" But five years is not such a very long period 
to a man in the prime of life, and $200,000 will 
be a snug little sum to start again with at the 
end of them." 

" It isn't so. How can you believe such a 
thing of Mr. Trent ? " 

The color had rushed to Arthur's face, and he 
set about defending his friends in his usual im- 
pulsive fashion. 

" But the bonds are gone, nobody knows 
where, and they were delivered upon Mr. — 
Trent's written order," retorted Chessman, with 
another shrug, and that slight pause before the 
proper name of which he had already made use. 

" That was a forgery, though." 

" Have you any proof that it was ? " 

"You believed it to be one yourself yesterday 
morning. What has caused you to change your 
mind ? " 

' ' Yesterday morning I was scarcely accounta- 
ble for what I believed. The shock of discov- 



ering my employer's true character quite un- 
nerved me for the time. Besides, have you had 
Mr. — Trent's denial that he wrote the order ? " 

" No, I have not seen him to ask him about 
it. That is one of the things I want to find 
Allan for." 

" Well, I can tell you that the son is no wiser 
in the matter than you are." 

" He hasn't seen his father, then, since the 
robbery ? " 

" No." 

" But ke stopped at the jail yesterday, I 
know." 

" Just after his father had been taken off to 
the train for the West. I have been comparing 
the writing on that note with that on Mr. — 
Trent's letters and memoranda, and find no rea- 
son to doubt its genuineness." 

" But why should he have sent that Beaver 
with it — the very man who was the cause of his 
being retaken ? " 

"Oh, the explanation of that is simple 
enough," laughed Chessman. "That man 
Beaver called here at the office two weeks ago." 

" Yes, I know that." 



like Beaver ?" objected Arthur. "He may go 
to the ends of the earth with the money, and 
Mr. Trent may never see a dollar of it, let alone 
the creditors." 

This view of the matter appeared to stagger 
Mr. Chessman for a moment. The two men 
with notebooks also looked interested, and be- 
gan to whisper together. 

"Oh, I suppose he fixed that all right," the 
clerk finally responded, adding with a smile, 
" Honor among thieves, you know." 

" But supposings won't do in a case like 
this," exclaimed Arthur, with rising indigna- 
tion. "I think it is wildly improbable that 
Mr. Trent would have got a man like Beaver to 
keep money for him. It's all come of these 
newspaper reporters who want to get up a sen- 
sation." 

"These gentlemen are connected with the 
press," interposed Chessman, with a wave of 
his hand towards the whisperers. 

"So much the better," went on Arthur, 
hotly. "They can now see how the case 
stands for themselves, and write up a contra- 
diction of the cruelly false statements they have 
already appeared." 

" How about that note in 
Mr. Trent's handwriting though, 
young man ?" inquired the taller 
of the two reporters. 
* ' Why, that's the very 

thing " 

Arthur checked himself sud- 
denly. If he should divulge 
: his great idea in this presence, it 



himself with such a trifling incident on such a 
pressing occasion. At that instant, however, 
the itinerant salesman daubed the whole side of 
his face with the cream, causing the boy's 
mouth to drop lower than ever. 

"I've surely seen that expression of amaze- 
ment," reflected Arthur, " and now I know 
where I saw it ; when Al declared that note to 
be a forgery yesterday, and that is Ben, the very 
office boy I want to see. " 




ALLAN WAS GAZING UP AND DOWN THE COLUMNS WITH A HOPELESS LOOK. 

" Ben, the boy, was the only one here at the would very probably be ventilated in the press 
time except Mr. — Trent. Beaver, when asked the next morning, ten chances to one Beaver 
for his name, simply took a piece of paper and_ would see it and be put on his guard, and his 
wrote on it the figures ' 333.' " whole scheme for the recapture of the thief and 



" Where is this boy Ben now ? I'd like to see 
him." 

"He left last night, but before he went he 
told me what he overheard of the interview be- 
tween this Beaver and Mr. — Trent. ' 

"Why, was he guilty of listening? Surely 
there was no cause for suspicion at that time." 

" No ; but Mr. Trent's voice was raised louder 
than usual, and Ben distinctly heard him say, 
' Nothing can alter my decision.' " 

" Well, but what does that prove ?" 

" Simply this : Beaver doubtless called to see 
what arrangements he could make for ' hush 
money,' as it is called. Ford, as I suppose I 
may as well call him, refused to pay the high 
sum Beaver doubtless demanded. But after th.' 
blow had fallen, and he realized that during his 
imprisonment his business must be all broken 
up, the thought very naturally occurred to a 
man of his stamp, ' Can I not turn Beavers 
cupidity to account ? ' He decided that lie 
could, and that note was the result." 

" But what reliance could he place on a man 



captu 

the restoration of Mr. Trent's good name 
would fall through. So he set his lips firmly 
together for a second, then opened them to say 
mildly : 

" But I didn't come hereto argue, only to find 
out where Allan was. You can't tell me, so I 
must try elsewhere. Good afternoon." 

Arthur went out, leaving the three looking at 
one another with rather puzzled expressions. 

" I wonder if they wouldn't know over at the 
stable what has become of Allan ?" said Sey- 
mour to himself, as he took his place in the ele- 
vator. "I'll go over there and try at any rate. 
Every hour is valuable." 

At the corner[of Broad and Wall Streets, just 
under the statue of Washington, his attention 
was attracted, however, by a small boy who was 
standing with mouth agape, looking up at a 
man who was displaying the merits of a patent 
shaving soap. 

"Where have I seen that boy before?" he 
asked himself. 

He was about to hurry on and not bother 



CHAPTER XVIII. 
THE REUNION OF THE CHUMS. 

fUSHING his way in among the crowd, 
Seymour touched the lad on the shoulder 
and beckoned him away. 

" Do you remember me ? " he asked. 
"Yes, but I've left the office," was the quick 
reply. " I'm going to see a gentleman in 
Trinity Building at five o'clock about getting a 
place with him." 

" It's five minutes of five now," returned 
Arthur, glancing at a clock across the street. 
" Come along. I'll walk up to Broadway with 
you. I want to ask you some questions." 

" Crickey ! I didn't know it was so late 1 " 
exclaimed the boy. " Come along." 

"First off, then," began Arthur, as they 
started off, " do you know what has become of 
Mr. Allan?" 

" Why, isn't he at home ?" 

" No ; so I guess you know no more about 

him than I do. But now I want you to tell me 

if you noticed anything peculiar about that Mr. 

Beaver when he called on Mr. Trent two 

weeks ago. You remember the time, don't 

you ? " 

"Oh, yes, and I thought it mighty 
queer his sending in that number ' 333 ' in- 
stead of a card with his name on it." 

" Do you remember what Mr. Trent 
said or did when you handed it to him ? " 
" He just looked at it as though there 
was a lot to read instead of only those 
three figures. Then he said after a long 
time, 'Show him in, Ben.'" 

"And did you notice anything peculiar 
about Mr. Beaver when you went back 
with the message ? " 

" No ; only he had been scribbling 
something on a piece of paper, and stop- 
ped all of a sudden when I came back." 
"Are you sure about that ? " went on 
Arthur, with rising excitement. " Did 
you notice whether he was 
copying anything or not ? " 
" No, I didn't notice any- 
thing except what I could 
see right before me. I had 
all I could do wondering 
over that funny '^^ ' busi- 
ness." 

"But think hard now, 
and see if you can remem- 
ber whether there was any 
writing of Mr. Trent's 
lying where that man Bea- 
ver could see it." 

"Let me see," mused 
the boy, knitting his brows. 
"What was I doing when 
he came in? Oh, yes, sharp- 
ening a lead pencil. I re- 
member now I was so 
knocked out when I saw 
what he had written on 
that slip that I dropped it 
and broke the new point I 
had made." 

"But that doesn't tell 
me whether there was any 
of Mr. Trent's writing 
about," put in Arthur, 
quickly. 

" Oh, I'm coming to 
that," went on Ben; "you 
see, I have to figure up 
backwards. Now before 
I sharpened that pencil 
I had stamped a letter for 
Mr. Trent." 

"And was that lying 
where Beaver could see 
it ? " interposed Arthur, 
eagerly. 

' ' Well, it was on $. table 
just inside the railing, and 
I s'pose he could have 
seen it if he'd looked the right way." 

" Did you see what it was Mr. Beaver had 
written ?" pursued Arthur. 

" No ; for as soon as he heard me coming he 
crumpled the paper up and dropped it in his 
pocket." 

" Good ! " exclaimed Arthur, clapping Ben on 
the shoulder in his enthusiasm. " If I were a 
dauntless detective in a half dime novel I'd cry 
1 Ha, methinks we're on the villain's track ! ' 
But now tell me what address was on that let- 
ter. Do you remember ? " 

" I can't think of the gentleman's first name, 
but the last one was Oppenheim, I'm pretty 
sure." 

Arthur took out his card case and noted down 
this fact. By this time they had reached Broad- 
way, and the clock on Trinity was chiming out 
five. 

" Just give me your address before you go, 
will you ? " and Seymour laid a detaining hand 
on Ben's shoulder. 

This secured, Arthur thanked the boy, and 
sprang on an up bound Broadway ear. 

" If I could only lay my hands on Allan now !" 
he said to himself. "I'm as sure as need be 
that Beaver is a villain through and through ; 



THE GOLDEN ARGOSY. 



M/MftfcR r M. 



and if T can only get. Al to help rae follow up 
that Tenbrook Falls clew, some things will be 
proved that needn't make him ashamed of the 
name of Ford." 

''Aw, how are you, Seymour? Beastly 
crowd, isn't it ?" 

The car was so packed that Arthur had barely 
succeeded in obtaining a foothold on the step. 
This remark was addressed to him by a ruddy 
cheeked youth of some eighteen summers, wear- 
ing a silk hat and a dark red muffler, who was 
being flattened against one of the rear windows 
by three men who were clinging desperately to 
one another and the dude. 

"Why, hallo, Charley!" returned Arthur, 
glancing up. " What do you mean by riding 
from Wall Street to the bridge ? You don't 
mean to say you make a regular thing of it ?" 

" Oh, no ; but you know I'm in a hurry to- 
night. Want a chance to rehearse a bit before 
I go around to the Deane's honse. You'll be there 
of course. Don't know what we'll do without 
Trent, though. Met him this morning away 
over in West Twenty Eighth Street. Was up 
there to look over a factory our company's 
taken out a policy on, and- — " 

** Did he tell you where, he lived ?" put in 
Arthur, eagerly. " I want to get at him the 
worst way." 

" Hello, I thought you two were such 
chums !" ejaculated the other, with as much 
astonishment in his tones as a dude usually al- 
lows himself to betray. " And how comes it he 
has dropped you and not you him ? I should 
think, don't you know, it would be just the 
other way round." 

"There's been no shaking about it, Harmon. 
It's all Al's own foolish notions. Did he try to 
dodge out of your way ?" 

" He couldn't very well," returned the other, 
with a faint laugh. " He was coming along 
with a bag in his hand looking up at the num- 
bers on the houses, and I was just as much oc- 
cupied staring up at the big factory I'd come to 
examine on the other side of the street. So we 
came together with a bang, by Jove, that nearly 
knocked my dicer into the gutter. Then when 
I saw who it was I told him not to forget about 
his engagement tonight, and he said he couldn't 
think of going on with his part, had moved 
away from Brooklyn, and sent in his resignation 
to Miss Percy this morning." 

" He said he'd moved away from Brooklyn, 
did he ? That is one thing gained, but you said 
he was looking up at the numbers on the 
houses, and that he had a bag in his hand. I 
suppose he didn't tell you he was going to live in 
one of those houses in front of which you met 
him >" 

11 No, he didn't tell me, but he made some ex- 
cuse to get away in a second or two, and I 
started across the street. But I looked back 
and saw him going up the steps of the very 
house where we had our collision." 

" And which one was that ?" 

" Dash it all, Seymour, how can I tell ? I 
wasn't looking at the numbers. It was Trent 
was doing that. I was on the hunt for weak 
points in the construction of that factory, don't 
you see ?" 

" Look here, Harmon. If I can find Trent 
tonight we may be able to straighten out this 
awful snarl his father's got into. So it's aw- 
fully important I get at the fellow. Can't you 
give me some idea of how I can find the house ?" 

" Well, it's opposite the factory, but then the 
factory's such a big building that about half a 
dozen of the houses are opposite to it. But I 
remember now I stubbed my toe just be- 
fore I ran into Trent, so there must be a flag 
out of plumb just about there. So long, Sey- 
mour. See you tonight." 

" No you won't," Arthur called after him, 
and then he alighted from the car in turn and 
struck off in the other direction for the Park 
Place Station of the Elevated Road. 

Not until he had ascended to the latter and 
was in the act of stepping on a train did Sey- 
mour recollect that he had neglected to ascer- 
tain from Harmon between what avenues his 
encounter with Allan had taken place. 

" He said it was West Twenty Eighth, so I 
can get out at Twenty Third, walk up and then 
strike out toward the river till I come to a big 
factory, with an up bulging flagstone on the 
other side of the way." 

Pursuing this course, about fifteen minutes 
later, Arthur found himself in the vicinity of 
Seventh -Avenue, walking slowly along with his 
eyes fixed on the pavement in a concentrated 
stare. 

"What you lost, mister?" inquired a small 
boy, pausing in the act of setting his top a 
whirling. 

"A fellow about seventeen, with black hair, 
gray eyes and a medium amount of color. 
Seen anything of him ? " 

The boy stared stupidly, while irrepressible 
Arthur, who would have his little joke, in sea- 
son or out, continued his course of investiga- 
tion with a broad smile of amusement. 

This suddenly shifted into one of triumph as 
his eye spotted a flagstone that was a trifle 
raised above its fellows. 

" There is the factory and here the toe 
stubber, so yonder must be the mansion that 
shelters my chum," and Arthur lifted his glance 
to the house front on his right. 

" Reminds me of Beaver's Brooklyn residence, 
declare if it don't," was his next reflection. 

Then he ran up the stairs and pulled the 
bell. 

The summons was answered in the course of 
five minutes by a sleepy looking colored boy, who 
hadn't quite finished setting into place the 



" buttons'' jacket, which had the appearance of 
having been originally made some years pre 
vinus for an altogether different shaped youth. 

"Does Mr. Trent live here?" inquired 
Arthur. 

" No, sah, " interposed the boy, promptly. 
Seymour's face fell, and he was about to back 
out and take fresh bearings from the upheaved 
flagstone, when a recollection of the signature 
to Allan's note flashed over him. 

"I don't mean Trent at all," he said. "I 
mean Ford. Does a Mr. Ford live here ? " 

"Yes, sah. I thinks dat's de name of de 
gemman what come dis mornin,'" returned the 
darky, who was taking a thoroughly comfort- 
able survey of the caller, from the bang under 
his derby to the gaiters on his shoes. 

" Is he in now ?" went on Seymour, breathing 
a great sigh of relief. 

"Yes, sah, I done let him in a little while 
ago. Fourth floor, de skylight room." 
"The what ? " repeated Arthur. 
" De skylight room. Dere ain't no winders 
in it, so it's cheaper'n the others," exclaimed the 
matter of fact Sambo. 

"Great Heavens ! What will that boy be up 
to next?" muttered Arthur to himself, and he 
started on a hurried ascent of the stairs. 

Arrived at the top of the third flight, he 
paused for an instant to get his bearings. 

" I wonder if that's the place," he said to him- 
self the next minute, glancing towards a strip 
of gaslight that shone out in the middle of the 
hallway to his left. 

Stepping softly towards it, Arthur looked in 
at the apartment from which it came. 

It was a small one, smaller even than Mr. 
Beaver's, but Seymour bestowed no attention on 
the furnishings. His whole mind was centered 
on the figure that sat on a chair by the bed, on 
which latter the advertising page of a morning 
paper was spread out, for table there was none. 
It was Allan. With chair tilted forward and 
hand clasped tightly across his forehead, he 
was gazing up and down the dreary columns 
with a hopeless, helpless look that went straight 
to his chum's heart. 

So intent was he on his occupation that he 
did not hear Arthur's approach, and it was not 
until the latter's shadow fell across the sheet 
that he looked up with a start. 

"Arthur! You here!" he cried, springing 
to his feet and then shrinking back. 

" I rather guess I am, old fellow, and what's 
more, I don't mean that you shall be very long." 
Arthur had grasped his chum by both shoul- 
ders, and now forced him gently back on the 
bed. Then seating himself on the chair, he 
leaned forward and began : " Aren't you 
ashamed of yourself, to hide away like this ?" 

CHAPTER XIX. 

THE QUEST RENEWED. 

'HAT did you hunt me up for ? Didn't 
you get my note ? It's only because 
I think so much of you, Art, that I 
didn't want to drag you down along 
with me." 

Allan tried his best to look displeased, but he 
could not quench the glad light that had flashed 
into his eyes at sight of his chum. 

"Drag down fiddlesticks!" burst forth that 
plain spoken individual. "The only dragging 
down that's got to be done is taking you from 
this top story dry goods box over to my room 
till we can both get ready for our trip to Ten- 
brook Falls." 

" Tenbrook Falls ? What on earth are you 
talking, about, Arthur? The only trips I'm 
making these days are trips all over town in 
search of work." 

" Well, you've just got to drop that and join 
me in another sort of search, one that may not 
only bring you in that missing $200,000, but 
something I know you think lots more of." 

" And that can only be — " 

" The proof of your father's innocence." 

Allan sprang to his feet, with the color flying 
up into his cheeks, and the fire of animation in 
every feature — a striking contrast to the listless- 
ness that had pervaded his attitude a few mo- 
ments before. 

"What do you mean ?" he cried. "You 
say you haven't got those bonds back, but have 
you seen Beaver ? Tell me all about it. What 
took you clear to Albany ? Did you meet 
mother there ? " 

" Your mother in Albany! Why, when did 
she go ? " 

" Last night. We telegraphed to Agnes not 
to come back, and mother went to join her at 
my aunt's. They will live there for the pres- 
ent." 

" Well, only about an hour ago I left your 
sister in my mother's room at Montague Ter- 
race. She must have missed the telegram. 
But sit down, and I'll tell you all about it." 

Beginning at Beaver's boarding place in 
Brooklyn, Arthur gave a rapid sketch of his 
adventures since parting with his chum in the 
brougham at the jail. Allan interrupted him 
with frequent exclamations of wonder, incred- 
ulity and sympathy. 

" But we mustn't waste our time talking here 
when we can do it just as well on our way to 
Brooklyn," Arthur suddenly broke off to ex- 
claim. " Hustle around now and get ready. 
Here, is this satchel all packed ? Good, -it feels 
heavy. I guess you've got enough in it for two 
or three clays' journey. Now where's your over- 
coat ? It's nearly six, and we dine at half 
past." 

Seymour's calm insistence was not to be with- 
stood. Besides, Allan was eager to see his sis- 



ter and consult about the rectification of the 
Disconnection of the telegram. Then he was 
impatient to learn his chum's plan for the clear- 
ance of his father from the accusation which 
had risen up like a ghost after all these years to 
crush him to the earth. 

In five minutes he was ready to start, and 
after leaving word with the landlady that he 
would be absent for a few days, he linked arms 
with his chum and set forth, looking more like 
his old self than at any time since that remark- 
able episode in the gymnasium. 

Hope is a great elixir and there is no known 
drug that can send such revivifying thrills 
through the veins as emanate from its upspring- 
ing in the soul. 

" Now tell me on what you base your hopes 
of freeing father ?" he eagerly demanded, as 
soon as they were in the street. 

" On that forged bit of paper Beaver brought 
to the office yesterday." 

" But the public won't believe it's forged." 

"Well, they will before I get through with 
them " laughed Arthur. " But now I want you 
to give me all the particulars of this Placer 
City forgerv ; you know about them, don't 
you ? " 

" Yes, father told me the night mother and I 
went to see him ; how he was clerk in a post- 
trader's store, had full charge of the books and 
the money, and when a iorged check was pre- 
sented at the bank and father immediately 
afterward bought a share in a mine and left 
town, everything seemed so against him that he 
gave up all hope of clearing himself from the 
start." 

" But this Beaver, what was he out there 
for ? " put in Arthur. 

" He was a man who worked on a ranch 
near Placer City, and often came to the store 
for provisions, till|he got in some trouble about 
a horse theft, and was sent to the Placer City 
jail." 

" He was a jail bird then ! I knew it," ex- 
claimed Arthur, with great apparent relish. 

" But he was only sentenced for three months, 
and soon after he had served his time out he 
was given a small position on the prison force." 

" I believe he forged that check himself, 
Allan," affirmed Arthur, in a solemn tone of 
conviction. " If he can imitate one man's 
handwriting so successfully there's no reason 
why he shouldn't be able to copy another's, is 
there ?" 

" No, go on ; I think I see what you're driv- 
ing at." 

" Exactly. Well, if we can prove that he got 
that $200,000 on false pretenses, all we'll have 
to do will be to go a step further to show that 
he used his nimble fingers twenty years ago to 
help himself to that twenty five or thirty dollars 
in Placer City." 

"Yes, the inference is plain enough to us, 
who are so deeply interested, but don't you see 
there's no direct proof to connect one crime 
with the other in the eyes of the law ?" 

" But what if we can make Beaver himself do 
that for us ? It's worth a try at any rate. 
We'll talk it over with father tonight after din- 
ner, and then start for Tenbrook Falls the first 
thing in the morning, dropping your sister at 
Albany on the way. Now tell me what you 
meant by that note you sent me, and why you 
buried yourself away from your friends in this 
senseless fashion. Why didn't you go with 
your mother ?" 

" Because I couldn't exist living along as a 
schoolboy as I have done. Of course you know 
we've lost almost everything in a night, as you 
might say, or rather in a morning, and I must 
get to work. I've been hunting for a place all 
day. " 

" And with what luck ?" 

" None at all. Somebody had always been 
engaged before I got there or else they wanted 
references, which of course I couldn't give." 

"Why not?" 

" Well, as I've only borne the name of Ford 
for about twenty four hours, it was rather diffi- 
cult to get anybody to vouch for that individu- 
al's virtues, and I was determined I wouldn't go 
to any of the friends of my Trent days for a 
character. Guess I'll have to turn to the circus 
for a lift. One or two aerial flights and a hatf 
dozen somersaults is all the reference they'd be 
apt to ask of an acrobat." 

"Just bottle up your agility and suppleness 
till we get to the Falls," responded Arthur. 
"You'll probably need a lot 'of it for scram- 
bling over the rocks after that wily Gray 
Beaver." 

"But it's too much to expect of you to go 
away up there on my business, Art. Besides, 
^lat will your family think of your trotting 
about the country in the guise of an amateur 
detective ?" 

" I know they'll think of it just as I do ; that 
is, if I can do anything to clear up this frightful 
muddle, I'm in duty bound to do it. Besides, I 
don't mind telling you that I'll enjoy running 
that scamp to earth. And there's nobody else 
can do it but me, because I've seen him in his 
two characters." 

" But I thought you said you were rather 
staggered when you found out at Sing Sing that 
that red crop of hair wasn't a wig. " 

" So I was, but I think now I see through the 
cuteness of the scamp. When we saw him at 
the gymnasium he was disguised, so all that he 
had to do when he skipped was to tear off his 
wig and eyeglasses. After what Ben told me 
this afternoon, I think I may be able to do great 
things if I can only get at the overcoat he wore 
yesterday morning." 

The boy arrived at Montague Terrace in due 



course, Agnes was quite recovered from her 
swoon and was overjoyed to see her brother. 

In a long conclave held that evening with 
Mr. Seymour it was decided that Arthur should 
spend his Easter vacation in the trip to Ten- 
brook Falls instead of the one to Old Point 
Comfort, which had originally been in con- 
templation. 

"If you can secure that scrap of paper on 
which Beaver practiced up, as suggested by the 
office boy's story," said the lawyer, "you will 
have a very weighty bit of evidence. I would 
go along myself if I could possibly leave at this 
time, but you are both old enough to take care 
of yourselves, and I trust to you, Allan, to keep 
my boy toned down sufficiently to keep him out 
of danger. His wildly original ideas have 
pretty good stuff in them, but are at times apt 
to carry him too far." 

A telegram was sent to Mrs. Trent, and early 
the next morning the three travelers set out. 
At Albany, Agnes was met by her mother and 
uncle, and the two boys continued their trip 
northward. They were tired enough when 
they arrived at their destination that even- 
ing, in a blinding snow storm. 

They were the only passengers that alighted, 
and from the station there was no sign of the 
town to be seen. 

" How far is it to the hotel ? " inquired Allan 
of the brakeman, just before he remounted the 
train. 

" Hotel ! " echoed the brakeman. " There 
isn't any open this time of year." 

The cars moved off, leaving Allan and Arthur 
to look at one another blankly through the 
rtorm. 

(To de contmued.) 



[ This story commenced in No. -2y2.} 

Warren Maviland, 

THE YOUNG SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 

By ANNIE ASHMORE, 
Author of " Who Shall be the Heir ? " etc. , etc 



CHAPTER XXV. 

MR. WALSINGHAM'S HOME. 

ADDENED by the turn of affairs, the 
prisoners on the Water Sprite fired on 
their conquerors from the port holes 
with Mr. Walsingham's missing re- 
volvers, adding their own vociferations to the 
din. But tortunately for the escaping party the 
aim was oblique, and the balls whistled harm- 
lessly past the boat, which was instantly steered 
altogether out of range ; while Mr. Walsing- 
ham shouted warningly : 

"The less you attempt of that sort of thing 
the better it will be for yourselves, my lads ; 
your record's black enough already." 

The boat vanished in the distance, and the 
baffled scoundrels were left to digest their de- 
feat, which they did with a very bad grace. 

At first all sorts of sanguine hopes upheld 
th^ir courage ; wait a bit till they had cut their 
way out of limbo, and then Mr. Walsingham 
would see what it was to affront brave French- 
men 1 

But in vain they ransacked every hole and 
corner for a tool. Julius had bit by bit emp- 
tied the carpenter's chest, leaving not so much 
as a chisel behind. 

Stay, was not Dupont on board yet ? No one 
had seen him in the boat which bore these brig- 
ands away ; let Dupont be roared for- — he could 
fetch some tools from the cabin — he could aid 
them somehow. 

But Dupont answered not the loudest roar- 
ings. He was either too sick to come, or he 
had turned traitor, and was worthy only of 
their most emphatic maledictions. 

So there these brave Frenchmen perforce 
must remain like rats in a trap, while yonder 
brigands carried off the gold for which they had 
toiled so patiently ; there they must remain un- 
til the said brigands brought back with them 
some dogs of constables to arrest them. Mis- 
fortune fall upon the head of him who tempted 
them into this snare ! And here mutual re- 
criminations broke out, and the discussion end- 
ed in a general scrimmage, which at least helped 
to pass the time away. 

Meanwhile Mr. Walsingham and his allies 
rowed briskly shoreward, all feeling in as good 
spirits as their foes were the reverse. 

"I trust the yacht won't drift far, though," 
remarked Mr. Walsingham, a little anxiously. 
" I should have preferred to leave you, Marvin, 
aboard at the wheel, but the miscreants might 
have broker, out upon you, and that was too 
much risk to run." 

" I think that in this calm she will remain 
pretty stationary," returned Warren, cheeringly. 
" Her wheel is braced, the sea's like glass, and 
we shan't be long in getting back to her." 

" We shan't be able to start after her till the 
morning," returned Mr. Walsingham, "as my 
home is a few miles out from Colonsay town, 
where I must ask the aid of the police and their 
steam iaunch." 

In about an hour and a half the voyagers ap- 
proached the land through a small inlet, com- 
modious enough to afford the yacht anchorage. 
A handsome pier, built of stone, ran out to 
deep water, and they rowed to the foot of a 
flight ot steps which descended to low tide 
level, tied the boat, and disembarked, all being 
very glad and thankful to find themselves once 
arrain on firm ground. 



APKfr, U, la*s. 



THE GOLDEN ARGOSY. 



311 



Beyond the quay a picturesque mountain rose 
in gentle ascent, terraced all the way up by gar- 
dens filled with a wealth of Southern floricul- 
ture ; while a beautiful country mansion crowned 
the apex, glittering white as snow in the rich 
moonlight. 

Flight after flight of broad marble steps the 
wondering boys mounted after their friend, who 
gayly led the way, while Julius brought up the 
rear, grinning with glee at his improved pros- 
pects, and clinging faithfully to a basket of eata- 
bles. Higher and higher they went, past flowers 
and fountains, statues and summer houses — a 
scene to dream about ! 

At last thev reached the mansion, a noble 
heritage which, had been handed down from 
father to son for many a generation of Wal- 
singhams ; built of stone and encircled by ver- 
andas, the slender pillars of which supported 
the flowering creepers which flung their per- 
fumes abroad on every breath of the night. 

Mr. Walsingham rang the bell vigorously, 
fetching a venerable negro head to peer over 
the up stairs balcony rail, while a dignified voice 
demanded : 

■'Who is you, anyhow, niekkiu dat row at 
dis time o' night ? " 

''Halloa! Rashe, that you?" laughed his 
master, stepping back from the door to show 
himself in the moonlight; "come down, you 
rascal, and let me and my guests in." 

The old fellow uttered a " Huh ! " of aston- 
ishment, and vanished, running ; and presently, 
having dragged on his clothes, he could be 
heard shouting through the halls the joyful in- 
telligence : 

" Mass' Walsingham done come home ! " 

Lights sprang up here and there, footsteps 
scampered about, and at last a chattering com- 
pany approached the door, which was flung open 
by Rashe {or Horatio), the head man in the 
establishment ; and a row of grinning darkies 
ranged themselves on either side, while a slim, 
white shape, with golden hair, sprang upon Mr. 
Walsingham with a shriek of laughing joy. 

"You, Kate! You rogue! How are you 
here ?" exclaimed he, submitting resignedly to 
be half choked by her hair, which flew up his 
nose when he breathed, and got into his mouth 
when he kissed her, and made him sneeze. 
" You've run away from boarding school, to be 
a plague to your poor old father, eh ? " he teas- 
ingly asked. 

"No, indeed, I didn't run away; but we've 
got scarlet fever at our school ; ain't you glad, 
papa?" exulted the young lady, catching him 
by the lapels of his coat and surveying him with 
loving confidence. " So Madame Ue Sombreuil 
sent all the well ones home, and I've been here 
awaiting you for days ; and oh ! I'm going wild 
with joy to see my own old papa again ! " and 
she smothered him once more. 

The boys looked on with far different emo- 
tions. Warren glowed with pleasure. This 
happiness at meeting a parent was well under- 
stood by him, and he sympathized with it with 
all his heart ; for so in the old days he would 
have met his father. Tim Sloper sighed drearily, 
as if the sight smote him painfully. 

Suddenly Miss Kate caught sight of the 
strangers behind her father, and instantly 
"dropping him like a hot potato," as he put it, 
slid behind the portly form of old Rashe, to 
hide her dressing robe and streaming tresses ; 
and from that covert acknowledged their intro- 
ductions with as dignified an air as she could 
put on under the circumstances. 

"Come, come, saucy Kate, you must treat 
my boys well," remonstrated her father, laugh- 
ing. " But for them, under Providence, I might 
never have come home to you again," he went 
on, more seriously. "Yes, my child, it's true, 
you have Mr. Marvin and Tim Sloper to thank 
for your father's life." 

Kate impulsively gave the boys each a hand 
— a frank, friendly hand, with a firm grasp to 
it that spoke of a true heart. 

"They shall never be treated like strangers 
here, then," said she, sweetly. "Come in; 
you are at home." And she drew them with 
her into the hall, like a young princess leading 
in two favored princes to her father's palace. 

Mr. Walsingham followed, surrounded by his 
servants, who chattered their delight at his re- 
turn with affectionate simplicity. 

Arrived in a stately parlor, he showed the box 
of gold to a handsome young mulatto, saying 
carelessly : 

"There, Dolph. take that to my strong room 
— Rashe has the key — and see that you lock the 
door safely again." 

Meeting the astonished glances of his two 
young allies, Mr. Walsingham said, reassur- 
ingly, 

"Have no fear for my treasure any longer, 
for my house is my castle, and my servants are 
my children. Not one of them would wrong 
me — eh, good folks ? " And their devoted affec- 
tion indeed precluded any fear of treachery 
from them ; but it was not their treachery the 
boys had thought of, it was the heedless, 
thoughtless chattering of these grown up chil- 
dren, who might by a word bring covetous 
harpies prowling around the gold even yet. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE CONSPIRATORS' PUNISHMENT. 

tS nothing could be effected bv proceed- 
ing to the town before daylight, the few 
remaining hours of the night were spent 
by the returned voyagers in resting, 
taking refreshment, and narrating their late 
adventures to Miss Kate. A throng of dusky 
hearers stood about the doors, drinking in the 



marvelous taie with goggling eyes and open 
mouths, Mr. Walsingham or Kate not appear- 
ing to attach the slightest importance to their 
presence. 

Before an hour had passed every soul in Sil- 
ver Hill (the name of Mr. Walsingham's 
house) knew all about the four gold bricks and 
their adventures, — in fact, knew a great deal 
more than had ever happened, since Julius im- 
proved on his masters version of the tale. 
When it came to be his turn to secure the pub- 
lic ear below stairs, where, as one of the heroes 
of the romance, he sat in state before a groan- 
ing board, and gave his imagination rein, he 
piled on the agony till the men were blue, and 
the maids were screaming from fright. 

About dawn, Mr. Walsingham, taking only 
Dolph with him to drive the team, dashed into 
Colonsay. He went first to the police station 
to lodge his complaint against Petipas and the 
rest and to request the attendance of a couple 
of stout policemen to escort the gold bricks from 
his house to the Colonsay bank, in whose vaults 
he intended to place them for the present. This 
done, he went to the bank manager's residence. 
since it was hours too early for the bank to open, 
roused him up and transacted his business with 
him. Then he was ready to return home. 

But while the master was busy about his af- 
fairs, the man was earning popularity by chat- 
tering about them to whoever would listen to 
the tale ; so that when Mr. Walsingham drove 
back on his homeward way he was astonished 
to see the road, which had been so solitary an 
hour ago, now dotted with the townspeople, 
whose faces were all set toward Silver Hill. 
When he questioned one he was further dis- 
mayed to learn that the object of the exodus 
was his own gold, which the people of Colon- 
say hoped to witness on its way to the bank. 
Half a million in virgin gold ! Who would not 
turn out to see that sight ? 

Mr. Walsingham shook his head as he drove 
onward. He did not like this publicity, which 
might attract more rascals round his gold. 
He saw that he had been imprudent in talking 
so openly about his affairs. He should have 
remembered that his servants' reticence was by 
no means equal to their loyalty. 

And yet, so far as the gold was concerned, all 
seemed to end well. A couple of stalwart offi- 
cers appeared speedily at Silver Hill with a bank 
official, who formally took the custody of the 
four gold bricks, signed a receipt for them, 
stowed the box away in his carriage, and re- 
turned to town under the protection of the 
policemen, while the expectant sightseers stared 
their hardest at the vehicle, and grumbled that 
there was so little to see. 

Not till the gold lay in the vault of the Col- 
onsay bank, did its owner breathe freely, or 
venture to account himself half a million of 
dollars richer than he had been before. 

The moment the gold left Silver Hill Mr. 
Walsingham was free to pursue its would be 
robbers. The police steamer had come round 
to his cove, and he immediately went aboard, 
accompanied by the boys, and also by Miss Kate, 
who would not be left behind. A strong force 
of police officers received the party, and off they 
set in high spirits. 

The morning was lovely, the trip delightful ; 
in an incredibly short space of time they sighted 
the Water Sprite not far from where they had 
left her, courtesying gracefully to the morning 
ripples, her decks a solitude. Mr. Walsingham 
and the officers boarded the yacht and arrested 
the imprisoned crew, who gave no trouble, but 
permitted themselves to be removed to the 
steamer with an air of stoical indifference 
which was rather exasperating to those whom 
they had caused so much disquietude. 

Petipas, like many of his stripe, French or 
English, had a smattering of law, just enough 
to teach him how far he might go in breaking 
the laws without getting caught ; and ha had 
been haranguing his confederates during their 
long wait. 

What had they to fear, argued he ? What 
had they done ? Nothing ! They had only 
talked, and the law did not punish a man for 
his talk. Dupont was the only man who had 
done anything. He it was who had poisoned 
Monsieur's liquor. He it was who had con- 
cocted the plot ; and Dupont was either dead in 
his cabin, or dying, since they had heard noth- 
ing from him all night. 

In fact, Mr. Walsingham was safe and so was 
his gold. What was their crime that they 
should fear ? 

Some one suggested that Mr. Walsingham 
might prosecute them for carrying off the yacht 
to the Bahamas, when their contract bound 
them to work her to Carolina. But here again 
the accomplished Petipas had his answer ready. 
How ? Was it they, poor, unlettered sailors, 
who had navigated the ship ? No, it was Mon- 
sieur Marvin, who alone knew how to steer a 
course ; they did but what they were ordered. 
And if it came to swearing testimony, Petipas 
guessed their six oaths would outweigh Mon- 
sieur Marvin's one. 

The case was not fairly stated, but the 
rogues choose to feel perfectly secure. They 
exhibited a most insulting show of indifference 
to their captors, puffed their vile tobacco smoke 
into their faces, and jabbered among them- 
selves with ostentatious jocularity, till the boys 
felt a violent desire to punch their heads, and 
even the constables, entrenched in their pro- 
fessional stoicism though they were, exchanged 
some gruff anathemas with each other. 

However, the gentlemen from Grand Mer 
began to look blue when Colonsay came in 
sight, and they gathered from the talk of their 



guards that it was not a British port they were 
approaching, but their injured employer's own 
country, where he had hosts of friends to avenge 
him, even if the law should let them slip through 
its fingers. When the police boat came to the 
levee, and the townsfolk heard from the con- 
stables how the Canucks were grinning at the 
trouble they had given a good citizen of the 
republic, and sneering at the power of Colon- 
say law to make them suffer for it, then, in- 
deed, the Frenchmen quailed, as well they 
might, for the spirit of vengeance ran through 
the assembled throng like wildfire. Fists were 
clinched, and sticks were brandished, and 
things looked decidedly stormy, while the 
Canucks grinned on the ' wrong side of their 
mouths,' and let their pipes go out for lack of 
breath to puff them. 

The young people had exchanged the police 
boat for the yacht when the latter was evacuated 
by the prisoners. And the yacht, having been 
attached to the steamer, was pulled along with 
her into port ; so that from her deck the boys 
and Kate Walsingham watched the scene which 
ensued, without being able to interfere, even 
had they wished to do so. 

Mr. Walsingham had left the steamer first, 
and gone to speak to his friend the chief of po- 
lice, who was on the levee in his carriage. 

From a little distance they watched the disem- 
barking of the prisoners and their guards, who 
were to escort them to the police station to be 
examined by the justice. 

The levee was crowded, for Dolph's romantic 
tale had flown far and wide. Mr. Walsingham 
was exceedingly popular in his native town, and 
rich and poor had collected to witness the last 
act in the drama which had been played at sea. 
When the half dozen rascals tramped up the 
levee in the midst of the constables, casting fur- 
tive looks around, which, with their lean, dark 
physique and slouching gait impressed the peo- 
ple unfavorably, a universal cry of dislike burst 
forth. It was as a spark to tinder. 

Suddenly a rallying shout came from the out- 
skirts of the throng, and from all directions men 
commenced to elbow their way towards the 
Frenchmen, round whom the police immediately 
drew close in protection. These men were of 
the class known as " toughs." The pretext for 
a scrimmage was irresistible, and half a wink 
was enough to gather them like wolves round a 
lame lamb. They had not come to fight, and 
had no weapons ; in fact they were roaring with 
laughter and bawling out jokes ; but none the 
less they made a concerted rush upon the pris- 
oners, fairly sweeping aside the constables, who 
could make little use of their truncheons in the 
crush. 

In a twinkling the Frenchmen were seized by 
their arms, legs, collars, jacket tails or even by 
the hair, wherever hands could gain a hold. 
Their assaulters closed round them and set off 
running through the swiftly parting crowd, 
which closed up behind them, impeding the at- 
tempted pursuit of the constables. In vain' the 
victims, borne along helpless as infants in their 
midst, remonstrated, entreated, threatened, 
swore and wept for rage and fright. The rag- 
ged regiment pressed on unheeding. 

Clear of the crowd, they increased their pace 
to a rush ; traversed a few squares of the street 
which skirted the water, and swept down to a 
waste lot on the beach behind a petroleum fac- 
tory. 

Their journey was done ; they halted here. A 
brief and jocose speech was delivered by the 
chief ragamuffin, on the propriety of baptism 
for innocent babes like those on hand. This 
ended, despite a most lamentable chorus of 
cries, six Frenchmen were simultaneously thrown 
up in the air, which might well have been 
sweeter, and came down splash into the water, 
which could not have been fouler. They were 
left there to wallow, half embedded in mud, 
half immersed in water, the oily surface of 
which just reached to their lips. The refuse 
from the factory flowed into this place, which 
was the most disgusting choice of a bath imag- 
inable. 

Their horse play over, the ragged regiment 
vanished, leaving not a hoof behind ; and there 
their victims wallowed till the police got a boat 
and rowed out to their succor. They were 
pulled (with some exertion) each man from the 
socket in which he was glued ; finally the malo- 
dorous squad was marched to the police station, 
and pumped clean before being presented under 
noses polite. 

Thus was justice of a rough and ready sort 
dealt out to the too secure rascals, who richly 
deserved all they got. The end of their matter 
(at ieast for the present) was, that Petipas, hav- 
ing been convicted by the testimony of Warren 
of aiding Dupont in his attempt on Mr. Wal- 
singham's life, was bound over to keep the peace 
under heavy bonds, which he could not pay, and 
no one would pay for him, so he was sent to 
the penitentiary to work out his time. 

Fontaine, Manet and the rest, were dismissed 
with a reprimand, and were glad to retire into 
immediate obscurity, having had more than 
enough of Colonsay popularity 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

TIM SLOPER'S SECRET. 

fO return to the story of the boys, we must 
take it up when they were leaving the 
court house, after having given their tes- 
timony against Petipas and his fellow 
conspirators. They had spoken under oath, 
and of course had been called upon for their 
names ; and Warren had felt obliged to give 
his true one, adding a brief explanation of the 



cause of his wearing another than his own, As 
he spoke he had been much disturbed by Sloper's 
sudden agitation and evident distress, fearing 
that his comrade suspected him of some blame- 
worthy reason for going under an alias. 

Now, as the two boys strolled along the streel 
together, waiting for Mr. Walsingham to over- 
take them with his team, which had been put up 
at a stable by Dolph after having driven Kate 
home, Warren was observing with pain his com- 
panion's constrained and downcast air, and 
waited for him to open the subject ; but Tim 
walked on in silence r thinking very sadly, to 
judge by his looks. 

" Now, Tim Sloper, say what's in your mind 
—out with it ! " cried Warren impatiently at 
last. Sloper started, and muttered some inar- 
ticulate words, which died on his lips as his un- 
happy eyes sank under his friend's bright, free 
glance. "You're thinking that I must be a 
false fellow, sailing under false colors — isn't that 
it ? " continued Warren. 

Sloper shook his head with a sad smile. 

" You're miles from the truth, Warren Havi- 
land," said he. "I haven't the shadow of a 
suspicion against you. I know you too well, 
and anyhow, it isn't likely that /should venture 
to judge any one." 

He walked along in silence for a few minutes, 
growing red and pale by turns, and evidently 
greatly perturbed. At length he asked timidly, 
" Where do your people live ? " 

Warren told him, up New York way ; his 
father had died a few weeks ago, and he had 
only his dear mother. 

As he spoke Sloper averted his face, and War- 
ren wondered at the low, husky voice in which 
he said, after a pause, 

"I have relations named Haviland some- 
where, but I should be ashamed to claim them." 

His voice broke, he bent his face lower, and 
Warren divined with a strange shock that the 
boy was crying. 

Poor fellow 1 The burden of his past fault 
was heavy as lead upon his spirit. Surely, 
thought Warren, if repentance could wash out 
guilt stains, Sloper was more worthy to be loved 
than before he had sinned. 

For a moment the idea occurred to Warren 
that Sloper might be an unknown relative of his 
own. But a little reflection convinced him that 
this could not be, since the Havilands of whom 
he was a member owned no connections of the 
name of Sloper. There were plenty of Havi- 
lands, no doubt, as it was a common enough 
name. 

Then Warren recalled what Sloper had said 
once before about those relatives of his, how 
it was through them that his trouble had come 
upon him. He wished the lonely boy would tell 
him his story, for he might help him somehow, 
he thought, if he knew it. So, to encourage 
Sloper to confide in him, he told his own story, 
and related his search for his cousin Tom Fen- 
wick, to ask about Mrs. Haviland's loan to the 
latter's father. 

" I might have told you all this long ago, but 
somehow we never did talk about our own 
affairs," continued he, " and when I met you 
first I was busy hiding my tracks from the ras- 
cal McDade. You don't feel aggrieved, do you, 
Tim?" 

" Oh ! no, no," exclaimed his friend earnestly. 
" How little right I have to blame anybody — 
you least of all ! You were quite right to be 
cautious among strangers, as it proved, since 
Burroe was in league with Hawk all the time. 
Warren, what should you do if you found your 
cousin ?" he asked, looking wistfully in the 
other's face. 

" I should get him to tell me the truth about 
the money, for I feel certain a hat Hawk lied to 
me," answered Warren decidedly. 

"But are you not sure that Fenwick is a 
worthless wretch ?" asked Tim. 

" I won't believe it till it's proved by himself," 
cried Warren warmly. 

Sloper's heavy eyes shone with new light. 

"You have faith in him yet, then ? " said he. 
" You're a good fellow I You deserve the best 
of cousins. May this one prove his devotion to 
you yet !" and he wrung his friend's hand. 

At this moment Mr. Walsingham overtook 
them, and they sprang into his carriage. War- 
ren requested to be driveu to the telegraph 
office. 

" I have not had a chance th hear from my 
mother since I left Portsoy, and a telegram will 
ease her anxiety immediately," lie explained. 
" I shall write too for today's mail." And as 
they drove through the streets he gave Mr. 
Walsingham an outline of his story, to which 
that gentleman listened with deep interest. 

"As long as your mother has that promissory 
note in her possession, Hawk can be forced to 
refund the sum out of Mr. Fenwick's estate 
which he has swallowed," observed he at the 
end. "At all events, I owe my young hero a 
good turn, and here I vow myself to his service. 
As soon as I have disposed of my bricks I shall 
go north with you, and fight your battle." 

" I, too, am vowed to Warren's service," 
said Tim Sloper, with a sad smile, " for I, too, 
owe it to him." 

" I'm in luck, and Hawk may as well throw 
up the sponge," said Warren, gayly; "but I 
won't care much for the victory unless I find 
my Cousin Tom, and find him what he ought 
to be." 

" I fear your cousin's a rogue," remarked Mr. 
Walsingham. 

"And I'm sure of it," added Sloper. 

"I don't believe it," cried Warren, hotly. 
" Anyhow don't say so till we can't help it," 
(To be continued.) 



312 



THE GOLDEN ARGOSY. 



NUMBER 280. 




The subscription price of the Argost la $3.00 per 
year, payable in advance. 

Club cute. —For fr-.no we will send two copies for one 
year re separate addresses. 

Stil»M<*riptl<MiA to tlie Argosy can commence at any 
time. As a rule we start them with the beginning of some 
Berial story, nnless otherwise ordered. 

The number (witole number) with which one's sub- 
scription expires appears on the printed slip witli the name. 

JJenewnN.— Two weeks are required after receipt of 
money by »s before the nnmher opposite yonr namo on the 
printed slip can be chanced. 

Kvorv Suhaci'lbor is notified three weeks before the 
expiration of bis subscription, and. if he does not renew 
at once, bis naper is stopped at the end of the timepaid for. 

In ordering back numbers inclose 6 cools ror each copy 

No rejected Miuinsoilpt will be returned nnless 
stamps accompany ir for that purpose. 

FRANK A. Ml'NSEV. l'lnil.lSHKI!. 

81 rVAttKRN STRKKT, NK.W YOUK. 



BUMBLE BEES AT A PREMIUM. 

It seems as if Australia must pay up for the 
value of its gold fields by drawbacks in other di- 
rections. The rabbit pest has already been de- 
scribed in these columns ; if the Australians 
could exchange their rabbits for bumble bees 
they would jump at the chance, as the saying is. 
" Bumble bees ! " you exclaim. " What possi- 
ble use can they be ? " 

They are wanted to assist in the growth of 
clover, which cannot be produced in Australia, 
owing to the absence of these lazy, buzzing in- 
sects, who fertilize the clover seed by carrying 
the pollen from blossom to blossom. It is said 
that a Kentucky farmer has advertised for 
$to,ooo worth — however many that may be — of 
bumble bees to be shipped to the antipodes. 



A HEALTH HINT. 

If a boy owns a bicycle, he knows that to en- 
joy its use he must attend carefully to oiling and 
cleaning, otherwise the nicely adjusted parts will 
become clogged and incapable of performing 
their duties. But every boy, whether he pos- 
sesses a bicycle or not, owns a machine ten 
times more valuable and hence worthy of the 
most assiduous and thoughtful attention, which, 
alas, it all too seldom receives. Unless, indeed, 
it gets out of order, when there is great lament- 
ing and a rapid resort to the repair shop, which 
an ounce of prevention might have rendered un- 
necessary. 

The machine to which we refer is the human 
body, with which no piece of machinery of 
man's contrivance can compare for its wonder- 
ful perfection. And yet how persistently it is 
neglected, and what widespread ignorance ex- 
ists concerning its structure and needs ! 

Almost any child knows that ashes must be 
removed from a stove at regular intervals, yet 
how many " grown ups " realize that the pores 
of the skin give forth the ashes, so to speak, of 
the system, which roust be removed by frequent 
washing of the entire body ? 

Groom your horse and your bicycle by all 
means, but do not neglect their master. 



HOW TO WRITE A SToRY. 

We recently quoted in these columns from 
Julian Hawthorne's advice to beginners in liter- 
ature. We have reason to know that author- 
ship is a profession possessing a perennial inter- 
est to a large proportion of our readers, so we 
make no apology for so soon reverting to the 
topic. 

This time our reason for doing so is to give 
our young story writers the benefit of an excel- 
lent guide mark set up by Edgar Fawcett, the 
successful novelist, in the course of a paper on 
his craft contributed to the New York World. 

In referring to the construction of the plot, he 
says that this should seem to be evolved from the 
influence of the characters upon one another, 
and not of the sort to arouse m the reader the 
suspicion that a string of incidents had been 
thought out first and then the characters made 
to fit them. 

This is, in fact, the fault with the great bulk of 
the stories that the Argosy is compelled to re- 
ject, week after week — the actors in the narra- 
tives lack individuality, they never seem to have 
had the breath of life breathed into them. When 
they talk one naturally looks around to find the 
string the author has pulled as his little sister 
would that attached to her doll when she wishes 
her to say lt papa " or " mamma." 

We acknowledge that naturalness and appar- 



ent ease is one of the most difficult things to ac- 
quire in story writing, but then all excellence 
must be won by conquering. 

+-*-+ 

We believe it was somewhere in New Jersey 
that a man once built a boat in the cellar of his 
house, and after it was all finished discovered 
that he would have to take it apart in order to 
get it out to the river. At any rate, it is a New 
Jersey paper that tells the story of a very stout 
carpenter, who, being told to set the studding 
in the room of a cottage he was rebuilding 
twelve inches from center to center, followed his 
instructions so faithfully that when quitting 
time came he found he had made a prisoner of 
himself. And it was only by knocking down 
one of the studs that he was able to get home to 

supper. 

*-*-* 

We now have an opportunity to see how his- 
tory is made. The recent death of the emperor 
of Germany, at a time when his son, the heir to 
the throne, is himself said to be on the verge of 
the grave, is a coincidence of rare occurrence. 
The accession of " Our Fritz " to the kingship, 
if only for a day, means a great deal to his wife, 
who will thus, even if left a widow, receive the 
income of a dowager empress. Had her husband 
died before his father, the succession would 
have passed directly to her son, the young 
Prince William, whose political views and am- 
bitions are reported to be at variance with those 
of his parents. It will thus be seen that even 
royalty has its seamy side, and the history now 
being acted out in the Fatherland will be read 
from day to day by thousands with eager inter- 
est equal to that aroused by serial fiction. 



A SPLENDID SERIES OF STORIES. 

Although Munsey's Popular Series has 
only reached its eighth number, the range of 
subjects treated in the stories is a very wide one 
and of a sort to suit all tastes. Boys with a 
fondness for reading of adventures amid moun- 
tain woods and crags will be charmed with 
" The Mountain Cave," while those who enjoy 
following the fortunes of treasure seekers will do 
well to embark with Jack Bond on his " Voyage 
to the Gold Coast." Those who long for the 
scent of the sea will find it to perfection with 
"The Boys in the Forecastle," while enthusi- 
asts over the " Wild West " will do well to make 
the acquaintance of "Jack Wheeler." We all 
like to be sharers of one another's joys, so that 
readers of "Barbara's Triumphs" should be 
numbered by thousands, while it is equally un- 
deniable that curiosity is a fundamental element 
of human nature, hence the large sales of the 
story that treats of "The Mystery of a Dia- 
mond." Everybody is interested in street boy 
life, so that it is not necessary to more than 
mention that " No. 91 " concerns itself with the 
career of a New York telegraph boy, while the 
latest issue of the series — " The Young Acro- 
bat " — is a circus story, written by the famous 
Horatio Alger, Jr. The coupling of' these two 
statements is worth volumes of laudatory adjec- 
tives. 

Remember that each book is neatly bound in 
attractive covers, contains full page illustrations 
and costs only 25 cents. 



THE BEST STORIES PRESENTED IN THE 
FINEST SHAPE. 

This continues to be the concunent testimony 
of countless readers of the Argosy, expressed 
in various forms and by both young and old. 
Here are some testimonials of this description 
that came to hand shortly before the great 
storm snowed the mails under. 

262 W. 123d St., New York, March 13, 1888. 
Hurrah for the Argosy ! Nothing can equal it. 
Norman Mitchell. 
Herkimer, N. Y., March 7, 1888. 
I thought I would write and tell you what I think 
of your paper. I think it is the best paper I ever 
had in my hands. Every new story that begins is 
better. It grows better every week. 

Herbert R. Tanner. 
■Lockport, N. Y., March 7, 1888. 
Allow me to compliment your unparalleled success 
in the publishing and editing of your paper, 1 he 
Golden Argosy. I have taken and read nearly all 
the papers for young people and have not seen 
one that in my estimation can compare with yours. 

J. W. Allan. 
Sault St., Marie, Mich., March 5, 1888. 
Since I first became a subscriber to the Argosy I 
have had a growing liking for it. I am a printer 
by 'rade and appreciate it as a good specimen of 
the art— the fine quality of paper and ink used. I 
like the nature of the Argosy s stories, but am es- 
pecially interested in your last and best effort, 
" Under Fire " and " Mr. Halgrove's Ward." 

Howard Burr. 




HON. WILLIA 
From ft photograph by C 



HON. WILLIAM C. WHITNEY, 

Secretary of tlie Navy. 

The present condition of the American navy 
has been the subject of many bitter lamenta- 
tions and stale jokes innumerable, besides giv- 
ing serious disquiet to those interested in na- 
tional defense, and providing a perpetual theme 
of discussion by would be reformers. With the 
causes of the exi ting state of things it is impos- 
sible to deal here, interesting as the topic is, 
and important as is a knowledge of it to our 
young citizens. Those who have given a little 
time to studying the subject can understand the 
magnitude of the task entailed upon the present 
Secretary of the Navy, who is striving to build 
up from the foundation the materials from which 
a powerful fleet can be evolved. 

The management of Secretary Whitney's de- 
partment has 
perhaps received 
more approba- 
t i o n from the 
country than any 
other branch of 
the present Gov- 
ernment, and a 
good deal of in- 
terest attaches to 
the energetic of- 
ficial who pre- 
sides over it. 

William Col- 
lins Whitney 
was born at Con- 
way, Massachus- 
etts, in 1839. He 
was the son of 
General James 
S. Whitney, who 
died in 1878 after 
a long and active 
career in public 
life, having 
served under 
President Pierce 
as superin- 
tendent of the 
Government ar- 
senal at Spring- 
field, Massachusetts, and under President Bu- 
chanan as Collector of Cusloms in the port of 
Boston. 

The future Secretary of the Navy was edu- 
cated at Williston Seminary, in Easthampton, 
Massachusetts, and afterward at Yale. He 
graduated with distinction at the famous New 
Haven college in 1863, being chosen to deliver 
the class oration, and sharing the first prize for 
English essay with William G. Sumner, later 
professor of political economy at Yale. 

He then went through a course at the Har- 
vard law school. After taking another degree 
there, he came to New York, where he continued 
his legal studies under the guidance of Abraham 
R. Lawrence, who was afterward one of the 
judges of the Supreme Court. 

Mr. Whitney made a specialty of what is 
known as corporation law — that branch of the 
profession which deals with the legal affairs of 
incorporated companies. This, as is well 
known, is extremely remunerative to the suc- 
cessful practitioner. 

For several years he was counsel to the Con- 
tinental Life Insurance Company, the New Jer- 
sey Mutual Life Insurance Company, and sev- 
eral railroad and steamship corporations. 

A famous case in which he figured promi- 
nently was that of Charles Reade's suit for libel 
against The Round Table, a New York literary 
paper, on account of a very sharp criticism on 
"Griffith Gaunt" which was published in its 
columns. Mr. Whitney appeared for the de- 
fense, and the trial, which lasted a week, re- 
sulted in his clients' favor, the jury declining to 
award more than nohiinal damages to the tal- 
ented but over sensitive English novelist. 

The first office ever held by Mr. Whitney was 
that of school trustee for the Twenty First Ward 
of New York. His real entrance into politics 
was when, in conjunction with Judge Lawrence, 
he took an active part in the struggle with the 
gang of municipal corruptionists known as the 
Tweed ring, during the years 1870 and 1871. 
He joined Mayor Wickham, Governor Tilden 
and other leading citizens in forming the Apollo 
Hall organization, which proved a powerful 
factor in the work of reform. 



In 1872 Mr. Whitney was a candidate for the 
office of district attorney on the ticket nomi- 
nated by Apollo Hall, but was not successful. 
Three years later Mayor Wickham appointed 
him corporation counsel, a position to which he 
was twice reappointed, and which he held for 
seven years, finally resigning in November, 1882. 
He was among the founders of the Young 
Men's Democratic Club, and assisted in the 
formation of the Irving Hall organization. He 
was also one of the original members of the 
political body known as the County Democracy, 
with which he was latterly identified. 

His selection for a position in President 
Cleveland's cabinet was received with general 
acquiescence, which has grown into satisfaction 
as his admirable executive capacity has been ex- 
hibited. A few partisan sneers at the " old salt 
from Fifth Ave- 
nue " have been 
drowned in the 
chorus of public 
approval at his 
earnest and suc- 
cessful effort to 
reform the 
abuses which 
have brought the 
American navy 
to its low estate, 
and to inaugu- 
rate a policy 
which gives it a 
chance of recov- 
ery. To build a 
fleet of modern 
war ships is the 
work of many 
years ; but our 
navy, though 
practically n o n 
existent, now 
shows at least a 
prospect and a 
promise ot life 
and strength in 
the near future. 

Mr. Whitney 
o w 11 s a hand- 
some house at the corner of Fifth Avenue and 
Fifty Seventh Street, opposite to the palatial 
residence of Cornelius Vanderbilt. He is mar- 
ried to the daughter of Senator Payne of Ohio, 
and both himself and his wife are popular as 
well as prominent in the best society of New 
York and Washington. 

R. H. Titherington. 



M C. WHITNEY. 
M. lioll, Wa hlnirton, D. C. 



A MOTHER'S BOY. 

A mother can feel where she cannot see, 

She is wiser than any sage ; 
My boy was trained in the good old way, 

I shall certainly get my wage. 
And though he has wandered far away, 

And followed his wayward will, 
I know whatever, wherever he is, 

He's my boy still ! 



GOLDEN THOUGHTS. 

Laziness travels so slow that Poverty soon over- 
takes him. 

Books are the ever burning lamps of accumulated 
wisdom. — G. IV. Curtis. 

The shortest way to do many things is do only 
one thing at once. — Cecil. 

Politeness is an easy virtue, costs little, and has 
great purchasing power. — Dr. Alcott. 

Fai-sehood is often rocked by Truth ; but she 
soon outgrows her cradle and discards her nurse. 

In counsel it is good to see dangers ; and in ex- 
ecution not to see them, except they be very great. 
— Bacon. 

It is the greatest possible praise to be praised by 
a man who is himself deserving of praise. — From 
the Latin. 

He knows little of himself or of the world who 
does not think it sufficient happiness to be free 
from sorrow. 

Let this be your constant maxim, that no man 
can be good enough to neglect the rules of pru- 
dence. —Fielding. 

Of all our infirmities, vanity is the dearest to us. 
A man will starve his other vices to keep that alive. 
— Benjamin Franklin. 

For every grain of wit there is a grain of folly. 
For everything you have missed, you have gained 
something else.- Emerson. 

The way to cure our prejudices is this— that every 
man should let alone those that he complains of in 
others, and examine his own. — Locke. 

Let it be borne in mind that the cords of love, 
which bind hearts so closely together that neither 
life nor death nor time nor eternity can sever them, 
are woven of threads no bigger than a spider's w-eb. 
— George S. Hillard. 

Man is a reed, and the weakest reed in nature ; 
but then he is a thinking reed. Should the uni- 
verse crush him, man would still be more noble 
than that by which he fell, because he would know 
his fate, while the universe would be insensible of 
its victory. — Pascal. 



APRIL H, 1888. 



THE GOLDEN ARGOSY. 



313 



A SEEMLY LIFE. 

BY JOHN MOKLEV. 

Wouldst thou fashion for thyself a seemly life ? 
Then fret not over what is past and gone ; 
And, spite of all thou mayst have lost behind. 
Yet act as if thy life were just begun ; 
What each day wills, enough for thee to know, 
What each day wills, the day itself will tell : 
Do thine own task, and be therewith content ; 
What others do, that shalt thou fairly judge ; 
Be sure that thou no brother mortal hate, 
Then all besides leave to the Master Power. 



[T&tS story ctmimenccd in No. 278.] 

THE 

GaskeUofeDiaiijoiids; 



HOPE EVERTON'S INHERITANCE. 

BY GAYLE TV1NTERTON. 



CHAPTER IX. 

AN INTERVIEW WITH SILKY. 

\4WHE sudden opening of the door, which 
f )rlj probably had not been securely latched, 

(|® caused Rowly Parkway to fall on the 
floor at full length. 

But he did not lie there even the fraction of a 
second. Both Silky and Rush Sinnerton were 
startled at the unexpected invasion of the apart- 
ment, and involuntarily retreated to the rear of 
the room. 

Rowly sprang to his feet again as soon as he 
had struck the floor, and walked forward to the 
middle of the room, for he knew very Well that 
if he attempted to escape he would be pursued. 

On the table under the gas burner lay a very 
handsomely mounted revolver, which the bur- 
glar had doubtless taken from his pocket when 
he came in. Rowly picked up the weapon, for 
he thought it had better be in his possession, 
under the present circumstances, than in that of 
the owner. 

Though the appearances were all against him, 
he felt that he was engaged in a good cause, and 
he was not at all abashed at the situation upon 
which the accident at the door had thrown him. 
He had no little natural dignity of character, 
and with the pistol in his hand he felt quite 
equal to the emergency. 

Folding his arms he 
stood erect, with the weapon 
under his left shoulder, 
looking as though he owned 
the house and all that was 
in it, rather than like an in- 
truder in the apartment. 

'' Who are you ?" de- 
manded Silky, when he 
had in some measure re- 
covered from his astonish- 
ment. 

* ' I am an innocent 
young man of sixteen, seek- / % 

ing his fortune on the stage * '■•?£?* 

of life.' replied Rowly i&$fj 

promptly, borrowing his V v X' 

reply in part from a story ( ""'"'<<; 

he had read. 

" Then you are an actor, 
are you ?" asked the occu- 
pant of the room. 

"Just now I am, though 
I don't follow that calling 
for my bread and butter." 

" What are you going to 
do with that revolver ? " 

" I am a creature of cir- 
cumstances at the present 
moment, and I have not 
the least idea what I shall 
do with it." 

" What is your business 
here ? " 

11 1 hardly think I have 
any business here, and my 
call upon you wasaltogether 
an accident." 

"You take things very 
coolly." 

"Do you allude to my 
taking this handsome re- 
volver ? " 

"It was rather cool for 
you to take possession of my property as you 
did, and thus set me at defiance in my own 
apartment." 

" I thought it would be safer for me to have 
it ; and as I have no particular business with 
you at the present moment, I may as well take 
my leave of you." 

" Don't be in a urry,d my dear fellow," inter- 
posed Silky, who had by this time recovered his 
self possession. 

' ' You are very kind ; I did not expect to be 
admitted to the hospitality of your room after 
my unceremonious entrance." 

"Perhaps you will be willing to explain how 
you happened to tumble in at the door as you 
did," suggested Silky, in the blandest of tones. 

" I followed a gentleman into this house, and 
I suppose I leaned harder against your door 
than I intended ; but the door could not have 
been latched, or it would not have opened so 
easily." 

" Possibly you will oblige me by giving me 
your card." 

" I don't happen to have any cards with me ; 
but I refer you to your friend, who has been too 
bashful to say anything about me so far." 

Silky looked at Rush with an interrogation 
point in his expression. 



" This is the fellow I was telling you about — 
the one that knocked me over in the street," re- 
plied Rush rather sheepishly. 

" Oh ! Indeed ? And what did you say his 
name was, Rush ? " 

" Rowland Parkway, I believe ; but every- 
body calls him Rowly." 

" Thanks, Rush. I am very happy to know 
you, Rowly. You did a good thing in defend- 
ing Miss Hope, and I honor you for it. I 
should have done the same thing myself if I 
had been there ; and I said as much as that to 
Rush himself." 

"Thank you for your kind approval of my 
conduct. It is getting late, and I must bid you 
good evening," replied Rowly, resuming his 
backward march to the door. 

" Not yet, my dear fellow. We shall be 
friends for life, and we cannot part yet. It 
occurs to me that you must have been listening 
at the door when it flew open," continued Silky, 
moving towards the intruder. 

Rowly unfolded his arms, and brought the 
revolver into a more convenient position for use. 

" Of course you have a perfect right to adopt 
your own conclusions," he said ; "but if you 



It suggested something to him, and he drew 
the key from its place, and then suddenly 
slipped out of the room. 

"Don't go yet, Rowly, my dear fellow," 
called Silky. 

But the intruder paid no attention to him. 
He closed the door behind him, and held it fast 
till he inserted the key and turned it in the lock, 
making his late friends prisoners in the apart- 
ment. 

"Follow him, Rush!" cried Silky in a loud 
tone. " Don't let him get away from you ! I 
will be with you as soon as I can put my boots on." 

" He has locked us in ! " exclaimed Rush, in a 
tone of dismay. 

Rowly did not wait to hear any more, but 
putting the revolver in his pocket, he walked 
leisurely down the stairs, and out into the street 
without being challenged by any person. 

He knew that Silky was a burglar, and he did 
not know what else he might be ; but he con- 
cluded that it would not take him long to open 
the door. He had located one of the men who 
had attempted to break into the store ; but he 
was not quite contented with the amount of in- 
formation he had gained. 



them. Taking possession of the latter, he con- 
tinued his watch over the movements of the 
burglar. 




STOP WHERE YOU ARE !" SHOUTED ROWLY TO THE INTRUDER. 



will excuse me, I will say nothing on the sub- 
ject." 

" Your coming and your overhearing what 
was passing in confidence between ray friend 
and myself places him in an embarrassing po- 
sition, for you must have learned that he had 
been engaged in a diamond venture " 

"I have been engaged in no diamond ven- 
ture !" protested Rush, springing to his feet. " I 
have told you I had nothing to do with the 
matter." 

" Don't get excited, Rush,"' 

"I know all about the diamond venture," 
added Rowly, still retreating step by step to the 
door. 

" Of course you do, and you know that Rush 
was the only person in the world that had the 
least interest in taking them ; but he had no 
more idea of stealing the box than I have. 
When his little scheme has succeeded or failed, 
he will return the gems to the lady," said Silky, 
in the most plausible tone. 

" If he has the diamonds, very likely he will 
return them," added Rowly, though he appeared 
to be quite indifferent about the matter. 

He had reached the door, and standing with 
his back to it for a moment, he felt the key in 
the lock. 



Walking down the 
street a few steps, he 
watched the entrance of 
the lodging house ; and in 
a few minutes he saw Silky 
come out alone. 

Rowly had placed him- 
self near a pile of boxes 
on the edge of the sidewalk 
in front of a store, and he 
lodged behind it as soon 
as he saw the burglar come 
down the steps. 
Silky paused in front of the house, and then 
looked up and down the street, which was 
nearly deserted at this hour. Then he walked 
do\ n the street ; but the observer circled around 
the pile of boxes, keeping out of sight all the 
time. 

Silky went but a short distance, and then re- 
turned ; but Rowly did not allow himself to be 
seen, and was satisfied that Silky had lost all 
hope of finding him. 

Rush's friend then walked up towards Broad- 
way. As soon as it was prudent to do so, 
Rowly followed him. 

The gentlemanly "breaker" led him in the 
direction of Brillyant & Co.'s store, and he con- 
cluded that he had come to look for Blooks. 

Silky walked through the narrow street in the 
rear of the store ; and seemed to be looking 
about in the darkness for something. Probably 
he wanted his boots, not for their money value, 
but because they might betray him if picked up ; 
but he did not find them where he had left them. 
He did not remain long on the spot, and 
Rowly followed him, though he took pains to 
hide his form by dodging behind the piles of 
cases and rubbish in the street. 

The ladder was lying just where it had fallen, 
and the boots were in the box where he had put 



CHAPTER X. 

THE SISTER OF THE JUNIOR PARTNER. 

tOWLY went to the end of the short, nar- 
row street ; but lie had lost sight of 
Silky, who had either concealed himself, 
or had passed out into the next street. 
But it was nearly eleven o'clock, and he felt 
the necessity of reporting to the clerk in charge 
of the store, and when he had returned to 
Broadway, he gave the private signal at the 
door of the store. 

The door was opened very carefully a little 
crack, and the clerk in charge asked who was 
there. 

"Rowly, 4963," replied the applicant for ad- 
mission. 

This number was the pass for the night, and 
had been given only to the clerks who were to 
be on the watch. 

"This is a pretty time to come, Rowly," 
growled Amlock, as he opened the door a little 
more to assure himself that the applicant had 
the right to come in. 

" I came here before ten," replied Rowly. 
" Come in," continued the clerk, who was a 
man of forty, in anything but a pleasant tone. 

Rowly availed himself of the permission, and 
entered the store. 

" What do you mean by saying that you came 
here before ? It is almost 
eleven," snarled the testy 
Amlock, as he glanced at 
the regulator in the watch 
department, 

" I took a look at the back 
of the store when I came 
first, and I found a man at 
work on one of the win- 
dows," replied Rowly, try- 
ing not to make too much 
of the incident of the even- 
ing. 

Amlock was more pliable 
then, and Rowly told him 
his adventure, and exhibited 
the boots as the evidence of 
the truth of his story. 

He did not consider it 
necessary to say anything 
about the diamonds, for 
they had no connection with 
the attempted robbery of 
the store. 

" And you say the fellow 
who was on the ladder came 
back to the rear of the store, 
do you, Rowly ? " asked 
Amlock, when he had heard 
the narrative. 

" He did ; but I lost sight 
of him there," replied the 
junior clerk. "There were 
two of them, and very likely 
he was looking for the 
other." 

"They may try again at a 
later hour, for they went to 
work at a very early hour. 
I think I will walk around 
to the back door." 

" I don't believe they will 
try it again tonight," added 
Rowly. 

" But I must satisfy my- 
self," replied the senior, as 
he took a revolver from a 
drawer under the counter. 
"Keep a sharp lookout 
while I am gone." 
Rowly let him out of the store at the front 
door, and then secured all the locks again. 

He walked to the rear of ihe store, and took 
a careful survey of the lofty windows. Under 
the one where the burglar had been at work, he 
found a ladder, used for moving goods on the 
upper shelves of the back store, and it looked 
as though it had been placed there for the con- 
venience of the robber after he had effected a 
break in the window. 

Rowly wondered if Silky had a friend among 
the employees of the firm who had put the lad- 
der where it " would do the most good," and lie 
determined to call the attention of Mr. Amlock 
to the fact. Then he walked to the front of the 
store, where he could hear the signal of his as- 
sociate for the night when he returned. 

On his way he saw the boots he had brought 
in where he had put them, and he picked up 
one of them. 

Inasmuch as he had failed to find that Rush 
Sinnerton's boots had made the marks on the 
paper in his pocket, he was inclined to examine 
all the boots that came in his way. He had 
about come to the conclusion that Rush had not 
taken the box containing the diamonds, for he 
had great faith in the bit of evidence in his pos- 
session. He could not understand why Silky, 
his friend, insisted, or pretended to insist, that 
Rush had stolen the diamonds. 

As he thought of the matter he turned over 
the boot in his hand, and looked at the heel 
of it. 

Before he completed even his first glance at 
the position of the nails, a sharp scream, in the 
tones of the female voice, startled him, at the 
very door of the store. 

He rushed to the door, wondering if some 
tragedy was not in progress on the sidewalk, 
for women did not scream in the street for noth- 
ing. 



314 



THE GOLDEN ARGOSY. 



NUMBER Vffi. 



By placing his ear at the glass in the door, he 
could hear that a conversation between a man 
and a terrified woman was going on in the en- 
trance* After he had listened a moment, he 
was satisfied that the male voice was that of 
Mr. Amlock. 

He could not distinguish a word that was 
said, for there were still vehicles enough in the 
street to make c noise. - 

In a few minutes more he heard the "double 
three" knock on the glass, which was given out 
to the watch for the night with the pass num- 
ber. Rowly had no doubt that it was given by 
Mr. Amlock, fc he had heard his voice near the 
door. 

" Who's there ? " he asked, as he opened the 
door as far as the heavy chain would permit. 

"Amlock, 4963," replied the senior. 

" All right," added the junior, as he opened 
the door wide enough to admit his associate. 

Mr. Amlock came in, leading a neatly dressed, 
and very good looking woman of apparently 
about thirty years of age. 

It was contrary to the orders of the firm to 
admit any person whatever between the hours 
of ten and seven, and Rowly wondered that his 
senior should do such a thing, though the scream 
he had heard would explain his conduct. 

" Now if you will tell me what has happened, 
I will assist you if I can," said Mr. Amlock, as 
he placed a chair for the lady near one of the 
gas lights which were kept burning all night. 

The junior was securing the door while the 
older clerk was doing the agreeable to the lady ; 
but he soon came within seeing and hearing 
distance. 

" I hoped to find my brother here," said the 
lady, who was so agitated that she could hardly 
speak. 

" You say that Mr. Van Zandt is your 
brother," added Mr. Amlock. 

" He is ; and I have been here enough foi 
you to know me," gasped the lady. 

" I do not remember you, certainly," replied 
the senior, who had the reputation of being an 
old beau ; and when he saw the pretty face of 
the lady, he softened down to the polite man of 
the world. 

" 1 expected to find my brother here," added 
the lady. 

" He is the junior member of the firm now, 
and he is not required to keep watch as the rest 
of us are," Mr. Amlock explained. 

" I don't see much of my brother now, since 
he was married, but I think he told me that he 
slept at the store some of the time." 

" Not now ; and never since the first day of 
the year, when he became a partner. I hope 
you have not been injured, Miss Van Zandt, for 
I heard you scream just as I came to the store 
door." 

"I am not injured, but I have been fright- 
ened almost out of my senses," replied the sis- 
ter of the junior partner, who had so far recov- 
ered her self possession that she bestowed a 
very bewitching smile upon the ancient clerk. 

Mr. Amlock smiled in response to her, and he 
gazed so intently upon the handsome face of 
the fair visitor that Rowly was afraid he had 
forgotten the duty which required him to be at 
the store at this late hour. 

Miss Van Zandt wiped her face with an em- 
broidered handkerchief, drew several long 
breaths, and then evidently felt better, for she 
bestowed another fascinating smile upon the 
beau of forty. 

" I think you screamed just as I came up to 
you, Miss Van Zandt, or was I mistaken?" 
asked Mr. Amlock, as he took a chair in front 
of the lady. 

" I did scream, and I was very much alarmed. 
But I did not scream for nothing," she replied, 
so sweetly that it was plain she had forgotten 
the cause of her terror. 

"Of course something terrible happened, 
though I saw no one very near when 1 joined 
you." 

" I work in an insurance office, next door, 
and I stayed to do some writing needed in the 
morning. When I got into the street, a man 
stopped in front of me, and I went to this store 
door to find my brother. The man put his 
hand on me, and then I screamed, just as you 
came up." 

" I wish I had seen the villain ! " said the an- 
cient beau, chivalrously. 

Just then Rowly thought he heard a noise in 
the rear of the store. 



CHAPTER XL 

THE PLOT THICKENS. 

T^\ OWLY walked to the end of the store, 
ypf and looked all about him ; but he could 
j^ see nothing to indicate anything wrong. 
^* Just then, as he saw the ladder standing 
under the window, he thought he would remove 
it. 

Before he had time to do so, Mr. Amlock 
called him, and he hastened back to the front 
store, where he found that the senior had put 
on his hat as though he intended to leave. 

f * I shall not be gone many minutes, Rowly," 
said Mr. Amlock, as he conducted the lady to- 
wards the frontdoor. " Let me out, please." 

If Mr. Amlock had not been forty years old 
and Rowly only sixteen, the latter would have 
remonstrated with the other; and as it was, he 
felt obliged to shake his head when the former 
looked at him. 

• "What is the matter, Rowly?" asked the 
senior. 

"Nothing, sir; but I heard some kind of a 
noise on the back street, and we may have a 
break yet before morning." 



" I don't think there is any danger at pres- 
ent," replied the older clerk. "I shall not be 
gone more than fifteen minutes." 

"I ought not to take you away from the 
More, Mr. Amlock, and I would not if I had 
not been so terribly frightened," interposed 
Miss Van Zandt, with another of her bewitch- 
ing smiles. 

" I think there can be no harm in my leaving 
you for a few minutes," added the ancient beau. 
'' You are not afraid to remain alone, are you, 
Rowly ? " 

•' i don'i know that I am afraid to stay alone, 
but I don't think it is just the thing to leave the 
store at this time of night; and it is contrary 
to orders," replied Rowly, who could not resist 
the temptation to say as much as this. 

" You can keep your opinion to yourself," 
added Mr. Amlock, angrily. " I feel called 
upon to protect the sister of the junior partner, 
and I will be responsible for what I do without 
comments from you." 

Rowly said no more, and opened the front 
door, as he had been told to do. The lady took 
the old clerk's arm when he had passed out of 
the door, and bestowed a shower of smiles 
upon him. 

The remaining guardian of the firm's im- 
mense property went back to the counter where 
he had left the burglar's boots, and took up one 
of them, though he was not especially interested 
in what he was doing. 

He put his hand in his pocket for the paper 
on which was the print of the boot heel ; but 
before he could draw it out, he heard another 
noise in the rear of the store. 

He tossed the boots over the counter, and 
hastened to the scene of the alarm. Before he 
had gone half the distance to the rear of the 
store, he discovered a man in the act of descend- 
ing the ladder he had neglected to remove. 
Then, more than at the time he had thought of 
it before, it was forced home to his mind that 
some one in the employ of the firm was a con- 
federate of the burglars. 

Very likely this traitor to his employers had 
taken away, or loosened, the heavy stops which 
secured the sash in its place, for it seemed im- 
possible to the young clerk that the operator 
could have removed them from the outside. 

It was plain now that Silky had resumed the 
work on which he was engaged when the lad- 
der was upset. Almost at the moment he dis- 
covered the first man descending the ladder, 
Rowly saw another working his way through 
the opening made by the removal of the sash, 
which had probably been handed down on the 
outside. 

Silky had found Blooks, and they had decided 
not to postpone the " break." The entrance of 
the two men almost at the moment of Mr. Am- 
lock's departure made it appear as though they 
had expected him to leave. 

It was a stunning suggestion, but Rowly 
could not help asking himself if the beautiful 
woman was not also a confederate of the burg- 
lars. 

He was bewildered by the thoughts that 
crowded upon him ; but he did not forget that 
he was the guardian of his employers' property ; 
and the fact that he was alone in the presence of 
two burglars did not overwhelm him. 

44 Stop where you are !" he shouted to the 
man who was on the ladder. The other had 
not yet secured a footing upon it. 

44 Dry up, my innocent little lamb I" replied 
Siiky, whose voice he recognized at once, as he 
reached the floor of the store. " Don't make 
a noise, or I shall be obliged to bore a hole 
through those vigorous lungs of yours." 

Rowly had taken the pistol he had brought 
from Silky's room from his pocket and put it in 
the drawer, where they kept a couple of these 
useful but dangerous implements. He wanted 
it at this moment. 

But he thought of the electric bell which rang 
at the precinct office, and he moved towards it ; 
but Silky's position cut him off from reaching 
the button by which it was operated. 

Very likely the confederate who placed the 
ladder where it would be serviceable to the 
cracksmen had given them full information in 
regard to the alarm bell. 

When Rowly realized that his movement in 
this direction was intercepted, he hastened to 
the drawer containing the revolvers, from 
which he took the one he had placed there and 
another. 

44 Never mind him, Blooks; go to work at 
once and gather up the stuff. That fellow will 
come back soon, and he will make a row when 
he finds he cannot get in," said Silky. 

44 But the watches and diamonds are in the 
safe, and it may take us hours to get into it. 
The spoony will not come back yet awhile, for 
Mag will take good care of it," replied Blooks, 
as he walked towards the safe. 

At the same time Silky rushed upon Rowly, 
evidently considering him ot no consequence 
after he had failed to discharge the revolver he 
supposed was still in his pocket. 

The gentlemanly burglar appeared to be 
about twenty five years old, but he was of slen- 
der form, though considerably taller than 
Rowly. The young clerk had not the least idea 
of being upset without a struggle, and he grap- 
pled vigorously with his opponent. 

If Silky had another revolver about him, he 
did not deem it prudent to use it, lest the report 
should create an alarm. He attempted to take 
Rowly by the throat ; but the clerk resorted to 
the use of his fists, and hit so hard that the 
burglar called upon Blooks for assistance. 

Warding off some of his blows, Silky con- 
trived to get his arms around the shoulders of 



his opponent ; but Rowly had almost shaken 
him off, when Blooks turned the tide of battle 
in favor of the wrong side. Blooks was a strong 
man, much heavier than his companion in 
rrime, and taking the clerk in his arms, he 
placed him on the floor. 

" Help ! Help ! Murder ! Robbery !" shout- 
ed Rowly, as loud as his half breathless lungs 
would permit. 

44 Plug his mouth !" said Silky sharply, as he 
applied his handkerchief, and forced it half way 
to the throat ot the prostrate young man. 

" Don't do that again, my tender lamb! If 
you do, I will choke the life out of you 1" added 
Silky, as he took a couple of straps from his 
pocket. " Make him fast, Blooks. Put one of 
those on his wrists and one on his ankles. He 
is a venomous little snake, but these will hold 
him." 

With the assistance of Silky, Blooks put the 
straps on as indicated, and Rowly found him- 
self in a helpless condition, with no power to 
do anything but think. 

He felt that he had done his best to protect 
his employers' property ; but he keenly realized 
that he had utterly failed, and could do nothing 
more. Mr. Amlock had fallen into the trap set 
for him, and had been led away by a siren, who 
might be the wife, sister, or friend of one of 
the operators. 

Rowly did an immense amount of thinking 
in a very short time, and he came to the con- 
clusion that "in the bright vocabulary of youth 
there is no such word as fail." He had been 
overcome, but his spirit had not yet been van- 
quished, and as he lay on the floor, bound hand 
and foot, he considered what he should do 
next. 

It was a difficult problem to consider to one 
in his situation. His wrists were strapped be- 
hind him, but he found that he could move. on 
the floor, and hitched along by using both his 
hands, hardly more than an inch at a time, till 
he came to a counter in the rear store where 
heavy bundles were done up. 

He had formed an ingenious plan to effect 
his release, and a few minutes more would 
prove whether or not it was a practicable one. 
(75? he continued.) 



Ask yoitr newsdealer for The Golden Ar- 
gosy. He can get you any number you may 
want. 




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CORRESPONDENCE. 

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Declined with thanks: "Two Plucky Boys," 
'' A Reader's Dream," *' Monkey Catching in Mex- 
ico," "Never Despair," "Be on Thy Guard," 
"Irish Descent,'* "Beating the Record," "A 
Schoolboy's Experience at the Closing of the 
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whole horseshoe, or a tack hammer, a tomato can 
or any other piece of hardware of trifling value. 
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tags, etc., for job type. 

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City. A small press and outfit, a paint box, and 
books, valued at $4, for a pair of clamp ice skates. 

Louis G. Seufferle, 133 Livingston St., Cincinnati. 
O. Two hundred and seventy five different tin 
tags, for a black breasted red game bantam hen, or 
a pair of fancy pigeons, 

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Chicago, 111. A banio, a new pair of Derby patent 
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AfKif. u, im. 



THE GOLDEN ARGOSY. 



31 



THE KETTLE 0> THE CRAKE. 

Hw many pleasant pictures does the recollection 

bring 
Of home and bygone pleasures that around the 

fireside cling ! 
What tender reminiscences come thronging on the 

brain. 
When in dreams I hear the singing of ihe kettle on 
the crane- 
Hear it singing, singing-, singing, 
Loud and merry, fast and slow ; 
Hear it murmur, murmur, murmur, 
Soft and low. 
There's the broad, wide open chimney, with its 

roaring, crackling tire, 
Built up with logs of gen'rous size to make the 

flames leap higher ; 
And, near the waiting table stands, spread bounti- 
ful ar.,1 plain, 
While cheerily the kettle sings and sings upon the 
crp.ne. 
Hear it singing, singing, singing, 
Loud and merry, fast and slow ; 
Hear it murmuf, murmur, murmur, 
Soft and low. 

— The Yonkers Statesman. 



[7'h/s story commenced in No. 266.] 

THE 



By FRANK H. CONVERSE, 

Author of" Van/' " In Southern Seas" " The 
Mystery of a Diamond" etc., etc. 



CHAPTER XLIII. 

A CONVERSATION WITH HETHERING. 

fHE sudden intervention of young 
Hethering created quite a sensa- 
tion among the excited group 
around the billiard table. 

" Stand away, Hethering, this is my 
quarrel," exclaimed Percy, whose dis- 
colored face showed the mark of a pretty 
sharp blow. 

" If you're not a confounded coward," 
he continued, fairly beside himself with 
wrath, " you'll not refuse the satisfaction 
due one gentleman from another. Give 
me your card." 

This to Rob, who stared at the excited 
hot headed speaker, thus recapitulating 
the language of old time duello, in mute 
astonishment. 

"Card ! " repeated Rob amidst a sud- 
den silence. "I have no card. As for 
satisfaction — by which I suppose you 
mean going on with this fracas — I cer- 
tainly refuse. I never was in a bar room 
fight before. I was forced into this by- 
persons who I presume call themselves 
gentlemen. No — I will not fight ! " 

Hethering wheeled round squarely at 
the sound of Rob's voice. 

" May I never if it isn't you, Dare ! " 
he exclaimed in wondering accents, 
which were drowned in the cry of 
" coward " from those who heard Rob's 
refusal. 

" Confound your fist fighting," shouted 
his exasperated opponent, who was 
struggling to pass Hethering. "/mean 
satisfaction with pistols. Will you fight 
me with them ? " 

" Not being a natural born fool, I 
hardly think I will," was the cool answer. 
And again, though fainter, the cry of 
"coward " was heard from various parts 
of the room. 

It was then that Hethering's voice made 
itself heard above the tumult. 

" I don't know what you fellows call a 
coward!" he cried, "but I happen to 
know that this stranger you're showing 
such chivalry towards has got more pluck 
in his little finger than the whole of you 
put together." 

Only a scion of English nobility whose 
father was supposed to be immensely 
wealthy, could have ventured upon such 
a bold statement. Before the astonished 
crowd could recover from their surprise, 
Hethering, regardless of Rob's muttered 
expostulation, gave a brief recital of the 
latter's brave defense of Bonanza ranch. 

The heated blood of the South produces 
a corresponding warm heartedness, 
which itself is quick to recognize real 
courage. 

" By Jove ! " Percy exclaimed. " I 
saw an account of the thing in the papers. 
Give us your hand, Dare. I behaved 
like a fool." 

As the leader, so the crowd. Five 
minutes later, Rob's hand had been 
grasped by all who could get near him, 
greatly to his embarrassment. And by 
those who were the most honest, his 
steadfast yet courteous refusal to partake 
of the various beverages suggested, was 
regarded as a still further proof of his 
courageous young manhood. 



It was with some little difficulty that 
Rob got' away from his now enthusiastic 
admirers, but finally he succeeded, ac- 
companied by Hethering, whom he 
thanked with unaffected earnestness for 
his championship. 

The latter led the way to a seat in one 
of the balconies overlooking the gay 
street with its parade and passing shoiv. 

His former coldness had given place 
to the geniality of a thorough English 
gentleman once his crust of reserve is 
broken through. Brother John and 
Uncle Sam sometimes misunderstand 
each other in social intercourse, but never 
for very long. 

Hethering was not content till he had 
drawn from his companion, in brief de- 
tail, the account of his adventures since 
Rob, with his companions, left the 
Bonanza lodge. 

Never was a better listener. He roared 
with delight at the recital of Chip's 
capture — probably for life — by the Indian 
maid. His eyes dilated to their utmost 
capacity at the journey through Death 
Valley and the mirage of the phantom 
ship. And when he heard of the wonder- 
ful good fortune of the bold adventurers, 
no less than the tragedy of the canyon 
cave, Hethering's astonishment knew no 
bounds, while his congratulations were 
profuse. 

" Don't I wish I'd been with you," he 
said regretfully — a wish that Rob hardly 
felt at liberty to echo. 

There was a brief pause. Hethering 
had just parted his lips to ask another 
question, when Rob broke in rather awk- 
wardly : 

"I — I — suppose Colonel Lamonte and 
— the rest of_ them are. back from the 
ranch." 

It was Hethering's turn to appear 
slightly awkward. 

"Yes," he said, looking down at his 
neatly polished shoes. " A — rather un- 
pleasant news called them back to New 
Orleans the day after you said good by 
to us at the Indian mound." 

"Unpleasant news?" inquiringly re- 
peated Rob. 

" Bad case of smash, don't you know," 
was the reply. "Colonel undertook to 
speculate through his New York broker 
— something in wheat or oil or some 
slippery thing — bottom fell out, and they 
say the colonel lost half a million." 

" You don't mean it ? " exclaimed Rob. 

" Fact," said Hethering, nursing his 
thick stick between his knees and avoid- 
ing Rob's eyes. "City house here is to 
be given up — horses, carriages, whole 
outfit in fact, and I — I hear they're going 
back to the ranch, which I believe the 
colonel deeded to Miss Doris for a birth- 
day gift a couple of years ago." 

This was unpleasant news with a ven- 
geance. 

" How does Miss Doris bear it? " asked 
Rob, wondering why young Hethering 
spoke in such brief disjointed sentences, 
and altogether appeared ill at ease. 

" A — well — I haven't seen her since the 
smash," responded the Honorable Guy, 
turning very red. " Fact is," he went on 
with a desperate effort, " I'm the young- 
est son, and in England'that means if I 
don't marry money, why I must grub for 
a living. Army, church, or study for 
barrister, don't you know. I don't like 
the first, and ain't bright enough for the 
other two." 

" Yes ? " returned Rob, in a non com- 
mittal sort of way. 

" The governor and Colonel Lamonte 
had it sort of understood between 'em 
that some day I and Miss Doris would 
make a match. Lately I found out she — 
didn't care for me that way, don't you 
know. Then the governor wrote me I'd 
better not compromise myself now that 
Miss Lamonte wasn't in the heiress line. 
So you see— — " 

"Yes, I see," was the quiet reply. 
"Are they still in the family mansion?" 

"I believe so, 202 St. Charles Street," 
responded Hethering, who, to do him 
justice, was an honorable, upright young 
fellow as ever lived, but subject to pater- 
nal pressure. 



CHAPTER XLIV. 

/T COLONEL LAMONTE'S. 

^'EEINGthat the turn of conversation 
Ys§ii was embarrassing to his compan- 
*"<■' ion, Rob changed it to his own af- 
fairs again. He spoke more particularly 
of his hope of finding one of the parents 



from whom he had been stolen in child- 
hood. " like a. fellow in a novel, don't you 
know," as the Honorable Guy expressed 
it. 

While they were talking, Mr. Nutter, 
a rather heavy looking individual with a 
hook nose and slightly Hebraic accent, 
came upon the scene. Rob excused him- 
self at once, and Hethering, promising 
to see him again, sauntered away. 

Mr. Nutter's report, as rendered from 
certain penciled notes in a thick memo- 
randum book, was not particularly en- 
couraging. 

A professional violinist, De Lancy by 
name, had established himself in Poydras 
Street some three years previous. Came 
from Chicago. Spoke of child stolen in 
infancy and possibility of getting a clew 
to his whereabouts through an agent em- 
ployed by child's abductors. Being foolish 
enough not to employ a detective in the 
matter — Mr. Nutter laid emphasis upon 
this clause — Mr. DeLancy seemed to have 
failed in his attempt. Grew despondent. 
Neglected engagements. Left the Poy- 
dras Street lodgings for cheaper ones in 
the French quarter. There, Mr. Nutter 
had thus far failed to trace him, but had 
no doubt that he should very soon be 
able to " get a clew." 

" You obtained some description of his 
personal appearance, of course?" sug- 
gested Rob. 

Mr. Nutter smiled slightly, and ex- 
tracted a somewhat dingy photograph 
from the pages of the memoranda, which 
Rob eagerly seized from his fingers. 

" He gave it to the daughter of the 
boarding mistress — I took it from the 
album in the parlor," said Mr. Nutter. 

But Rob was not listening. The picture 
was that of a tall gentleman with slightly 
stooping shoulders and a smooth shaven, 
intellectual face. In one hand was a 
violin and bow, the other, very long and 
slender, rested on the table at which he 
was standing. 

" May I keep this ? " Rob eagerly asked. 
Mr. Nutter was doubtful. But for "a 
consideration " the photograph changed 
hands. 

"The likeness between you and your 
father is very marked," the private de- 
tective observed, with a glance from the 
pictured face to that of ihe young fellow 
before him. And then, promising to re- 
port as soon as he had learned anything 
further, Mr. Nutter took his leave. 

It was after supper, that mounted upon 
Chiquita, now fully recovered from ihe 
fatigues of the journey, Rob walked the 
pretty mare slowly up the wide thorough- 
fare in the direction of 202 St. Charles 
Street. 

Handsome equipages dashed past, 
equestrians of both sexes looked approv- 
ingly at the young fellow's firm seat in 
the saddle, and pedestrians muttered 
audible encomiums upon Chiquita, but 
Rob seemed to see and hear nothing. 

Two objects were in mind to the ex- 
clusion of his outward surroundings. 
One was the hope of finding his father 
very soon, the other of a meeting with 
Doris, his girl friend. 

Colonel Lamonte's city residence was 
one of those massive old structures sur- 
rounded with a profusion of flowers and 
shrubbery which adorn the most aristo- 
cratic part of the city. 

Alighting, Rob threw Chiquita's bridle 
to a loitering negro boy, and stood for a 
moment half irresolute at the foot of the 
stone steps flanked on either side by 
crouching lions. 

Though the soft shadows of evening 
had fallen over the city, there were no 
lights visible — either in the upper rooms 
or those on the lower floor, nor were any 
signs of life to be seen. 

But all at once through the long French 
windows opening out on the veranda 
drifted the notes of a piano. A dreamy 
and somewhat sad nocturne was wafted 
to his ears, and intuitively he felt that it 
was Doris playing. 

Ascending the steps with a fast beating 
heart, Rob found the hall door standing 
wide open, as also the door leading into 
the spacious front apartment. No ser- 
vants were visible, and ignoring conven- 
tionality, Rob stole softly into the room 
where the musician still charmed sweet 
music from the keys. 

" I — beg your pardon, Miss Doris," 
said Rob, advancing hat in hand through 
the half darkness, and the young girl, 
with a little cry of surprise, wheeled 
sharply round on the seat. 



Well, it is not my province to attempt 
to repeat what was then and there said. 
They talked till the moon sent its clear 
light in through the long windows, and 
Chiquita's small hoof was heard im- 
patiently pawing the gravel before the 
house. And as may be imagined, each 
spoke of those things which had come 
into their lives since they last met. Only 
Rob said nothing of his hope of finding 
his father. This he was reserving for 
another time. 

' I shall call tomorrow and see your 
father, Doris,' said Rob, finally. ' " I 
want to repay him his generous loan for 
one thing, and I have a proposition to 
make for another." 

" He will be glad to see you," was the 
quiet reply. 

" City life has no charms for me," Rob 
went on, with a little hesitation. " I 
mean to see if he will not put his experi- 
ence against some of my money in ranch- 
ing, as I learn you purpose returning to 
the Bonanza. I believe honestly it will 
be a profitable investment." 

Doris, who saw through the delicacy 
of Rob's motives, could not make any re- 
sponse. And to relieve her evident 
emotion, the young fellow said : 

" And now before I go, Miss Doris, 
will you play and sing 'Robin Adair?' 
it is my favorite ballad, as I think I have 
told you before." 

Without hesitation Doris returned to 
the piano. Her voice, a sweet well 
trained soprano, rose on the evening air, 
and the occasional passers by lingered as 
the pure notes reached their delighted 
ears. 

A tall shabbily dressed man, with a 
violin under his arm, paused and listened 
with a half dreamy smile. 

"That is Miss Doris, one of my old 
pupils. God bless her," he murmured. 
And moved by some impulse for which 
he did not try to account, the shabby 
musician ascended the steps, and, as Rob 
had done before him, entered unan- 
nounced : for as rats desert a sinking 
ship, so Colonel Lamonte's servants had 
all departed with his fleeing fortunes. 
(To be concluded.) 

»-♦-• « 

A TRIE FAIR* TALE. 

A Southern journal has been expatiating on 
a romance of husbandry that it declares should 
be ranked with the enchantments of a Cinder- 
ella. Much has been written of late concerning a 
cotton seed oil trust. Here is the brief, but 
marvelous history of the cotton seed, as given 
by the Atlanta Constitution, the journal in 
question : 

For seventy years despised as a nuisance and 
burned or dumped as garbage. 

Then discovered to be the very food for which 
the soil was hungering, and reluctantly ad- 
mitted to the rank of ugly utilities. 

Shortly afterwards found to be nutritious food 
for beast as well as soil, and thereupon treated 
with something like respect. 

Once admitted to the circle of farm husban- 
dries, found lo hold thirty five gallons of pure 
oil to the ton, worth in its crude state $14 to 
the ton, or $40,000,000 for the whole crop of 
seed. 

But then a system was devised for refining 
this oil up to a value of $1 a gallon, and the 
frugal Italians placed a cask of it at the root of 
every olive tree, and then defied the Borean 
breath of the Alps. 

And then experience showed that the ton of 
cotton seed was a better fertilizer and a better 
stock when robbed of its thirty five gallons of 
oil than before. 

And that ihe hulls of the seed made the best 
of fuel for feeding the oil mill engine ! 

And that the ashes of the hulls scooped from 
the engine's drift had the highest commercial 
value as potash ! 

And that the " refuse" of the whole made the 
best and purest soap stock 10 carry to the toilet 
the perfumes of Lubin or Colgate ! 

And now comes a gentleman of this city with 
a process by which he extracts thirty gallons of 
fine oil from every ton of cotton seed meal after 
the oil mills have done with it. In the "tail- 
ings" of the oil mills lie finds this unexpected 
and ample store, which he deftly extracts with 
naphtha, leaving the meal more nutritious as 
food for beast or field than before he look $10 
per ton from it. 

♦-♦-♦ 

SOT JEST BIGHT. 

Barrett's "Life of Edwin Forrest * con- 
tains many interesting anecdotes of the famous 
tragedian ; but there still remain many which 
have never been printed. Once, when he was 
playing "William Tell " in Boston, Sarnem, 
Gessler's lieutenant, should have remarked : " 1 
see you love a jest ; but jest not now." Imagine 
Forrest's feelings when that worthy declaimed : 
" I see you love a jest ; but not jest now ! " 



316 



THE GOLDEN ARGOSY, 



NUMBER 280. 



WORDS. 

BY A»ELAIDE A. PRSCTOR. 

Words are mighty, words are living : 

Serpents with their venomous stings, 
Or bright angels crowding round us, 

With heaven's light upon their wings. 
Every word has its own spirit, 

True or false that never dies ; 
Every word man's lips have uttered 

Echoes in God's skies. 



Two Queer Adventures. 

BY CAPTAIN HENRY F. HARRISON. 

TSS UTTREL and I sailed in the ship Akbar 
1/ - from London bound for Calcutta almost 
Ha twenty years ago. I was a young 
Yankee sailor making my first voyage 
under an English flag. Luttrel, on the con- 
trary, was a cabin passenger — his father a 
wealthy London merchant owning 
a quarter of the ship we were in. 

Luttrel, who was nineteen, or 
a year older than myself, seemed 
to take a great liking to me, de- 
spite the difference between our 
stations in life. As often as 
was possible we were together, 
and he promised to use his influ- 
ence to get me the third mate's 
berth on the return voyage. 

Between the Maldives and Lacca- 
dives, about two hundred miles 
west of the island of Ceylon, we 
caught the bad weather attendant 
upon the change of monsoons. 
And one night, in the midwatch, 
while the ship was lying to under a 
" goose wing," a sea boarded her, 
sweeping everything movable from 
deck. 

Among the movables were the 
ship's goat, Luttrel and myself. 
The goat was never heard frc.i. 
Luttrel and myself were lucky 
enough to grasp a spare topgallant 
yard washed from the top of the 
house. And the next morning, 
with the abatement of the gale, 
found us drifting down toward a 
small schooner rigged vessel of 
foreign build, while the Akbar was 
nowhere in sight. 

The vessel was what is known as 
a lorcha of the largest size — say a 
hundred tons burthen. Sharp at 
both ends, with a broad beam and 
two sjump bamboo masts with la- 
teen sails which w r ere furled, while 
between the two a rude staysail was 
set, which kept the clumsy looking 
craft up to the wind. 

As the sea gradually subsided, 
being now almost within hail, we 
let go the yard by mutual consent, 
and struck out for the lorcha, over 
whose low rail no sign of a face 
could be seen. 

" She — must — be — abandoned," 
gasped Luttrel as breathless with 
our long buffeting by the seas and 
the exertion of swimming, we 
reached the side together. The 
coir cable, curving from the hawse- 
pipe upward to the anchor on the 
bow, gave us something to clutch. 
Then by convulsive effort we suc- 
ceeded in crawling up and over the 
bows. 

" Good gracious I" Luttrel ex- 
claimed — and no wonder ! In my 
varied experiences I never saw such 
an unusual — and ridiculous — sight 
in all my born days. 

Squatted along on the dry part of 
the deck in the beams of the sun 
now about two hours high, were 
fully two score monkeys, of every -S,' 

conceivable color, shape and size, '^? 

from a tiny spider monkey up to a "«;- 

really malevolent looking old chim- 
panzee with two prominent fangs, 
which he displayed most threaten- 
ingly. 

But as I was about giving vent to 
my own astonishment, a roar of most terrific 
volume suddenly resounded from below. Then 
followed a scrabbling sound, and in another 
instant the head and shoulders of a full grown 
tiger were thrust up through the small com- 
panionway, which, as we afterward knew, led 
to the vessel's forecastle. 

Luckily the back of the animal's head was 
toward Luttrel and myself. And the way we 
slipped down on the loop of coir cable was 
worth seeing. But with a simultaneous shriek 
the monkeys fled up the stays and simple 
shrouds — scrambling over each other's heads in 
their frantic hurry. 

As though satisfied with his exhibition of au- 
thority, the tiger, uttering a sort of subdued 
growl, seemed to subside into the forecastle, 
where he had evidently found something to e.at. 
As we cautiously regained our position we 
could hear him crunching bones of some kind, 
and snarling as though for his own special 
benefit. 

We had kicked off our shoes while swimming. 
Before I knew what Luttrel intended doing he 
slipped inboard in his stocking feet and drew 
over the companionway slide, which was made 
of heavy teakwood. 

Again that terrible roar, and with it an up- 
ward rush. We heard the tiger's head strike 



underneath the slide, but it was evident enough 
that he was trapped. Then each of us drew a 
long breath and looked around in wild eyed 
amazement. 

Well, there was no particular mystery about 
it. A large cage, lashed to ringbolts in the 
deck, had one end completely smashed out — 
probably by shipping a heavy sea. The tiger, 
thus released, had then without doubt taken 
charge of the deck. The boat was missing 
from the rude davits, the falls of which had 
been out. Wherefore, we argued that all 
hands had preferred braving the dangers of the 
deep to facing a lively and presumably hungry 
tiger, weighing in the neighborhood of three 
hundred pounds. 

Along the bulwarks half a dozen cages were 
lashed, which had contained the different va- 
rieties of monkeys that over our heads were 
chattering furiously and making the most out- 
rageous grimaces. The bars of each cage had 
been twisted one side, from which Luttrel and 



In the hold was a store of partly green bananas 
and plantains, intended for the monkeys. 
These we brought on deck, but it was only 
when we were both aft that their fear of man 
permitted them to come down, hungry as they 
were. And late that afternoon we sailed into 
Point de Galle harbor, where we came to 
anchor within a stone's throw of the quay — a 
score or so of monkeys being perched along on 
either of the two tapering lateen yards. 

The American consul who came on board 
with a throng of curious visitors listened to our 
story with great interest. It seems that the 
lorcha had been chartered by an agent of 
Wombwell's menagerie, who was buying 
animals for shipment to England. 

"You have an undoubted claim for salvage, 
boys," he said, " but you would save trouble 
and expense by seeing Mr. Dewey, the agent, 
and accepting any reasonable amount he might 
offer." Which finally we resolved to do. 

But Mr. Dewey had started the day before for 







IN ANOTHER MOMENT THE ENTIRE FAMILY CAME OUT TO MEET ME- 



I naturally inferred that the tiger was in search 
of one or more victims. 

But we were chilly and hungry, so as the 
lorcha was making good weather of it, we 
cautiously ventured down the after companion- 
way into the small, dimly lighted and not over 
clean cabin. It was completely deserted. On 
a table, lashed to the wall, was a well thumbed 
map of the Indian Ocean, and from the course 
marked out in pencil we saw at once that the 
lorcha was from Point de Galle, on the south- 
west coast of Ceylon. 

There was dry clothing in a berth — woolen 
shirts and two trousers, with straw shoes and a 
couple of coarse hats, such as are worn by all 
the Malay sailors of those parts. Having 
dressed ourselves in these we found some tins 
of food in one of the lockers, to which we did 
ample justice. Then we went on deck. 

The northeast monsoon had begun to blow 
with the subsidence of the gale. Hoisting the 
lateen foresail without over much difficulty, we 
put the little vessel before it for Point de Galle. 
Later in the day we managed to get the reefed 
mainsail up. 

Thus we took turns at the tiller all that day 
and the following night, which was bright and 
clear. The tiger roared furiously at intervals, 
but we had got quite well accustomed to that. 



Pamar, a district about fifty miles inland, in 
search of a couple of small elephants which 
he purposed forwarding to Europe. As luck 
would have it, however, a single bullock cart 
with native driver was to be dispatched to the 
same settlement with some arms and ammu- 
nition that had just arrived by steamer for Mr. 
Dewey, who was purposing a hunting excursion 
still further into the interior after securing his 
elephants. And through the good offices of the 
consul we secured passage in the hillock cart. 

The so called "high road," leading from 
Point de Galle to Pamar, was simply a sandy 
track distinguished by deep ruts, and owing to 
the ignorance or stupidity of our Singalese 
driver, we lost even this on the forenoon of the 
third day's journey. 

To add. to the vexation of the affair, he 
could not understand a word of English, nor 
we a word of his own dialect. And after 
wildly bemoaning his fate — as we presumed 
from his gestures and groans— the wretch pro- 
duced a bottle of arrack from under the seat, 
from which he copiously imbibed. Then, 
despite our threats, the Singalese stretched him- 
self out under the tilt and fell fast asleep 

"Well, this is a pretty go!" exclaimed 
Luttrel, wrathfully. " Rouse up here, you 
copper skinned rascal ! " But shaking failed to 



awaken him. So Luttrel started in one direct- 
ion and I in another, hoping to discover the 
lost track, or at least find some one who might 
put us in the way of finding it. 
^ For ever since morning we had heard "rem 
time to time distant reports of musketry, whicn, 
had not Ceylon been a perfectly peaceful island, 
would have suggested some sort of warlike 
skirmishing. Luttrel thought it might be in 
celebration of some native holiday ; hence, 
sooner or later, we felt sure of encountering a 
party or parties of natives. 

Carrying a Martini rifle belonging to Mr. 
Dewey, I had hardly gone twenty paces from 
the bullock cart before I came upon a neatly 
constructed habitation. In another moment the 
entire family came out to meet me. 

In expressive pantomime I tried to make 
known the fact that we were lost in the jungle 
and wished to be directed to the high road. 
And to this day I don't know whether the 
native had any idea of what I was driving at. 

But on his own part he also went 
in for pantomime, which was quite 
as blind to myself. And after an 
extravagant display of gestures he 
pointed from the bullock cart to an 
open space in the jungle. Then he 
shook his head gravely, and after a 
low salaam, turned and entered the 
hut, followed by his wife and inter- 
esting progeny. 

"Well, we might as well try 
that track as any," said Luttrel, 
when I reported to him a little later. 
So we started up the bullock in the 
direction indicated. 

That afternoon we came very sud- 
denly upon decided evidences of at 
least semi civilization if nothing 
more. On either side, as far as we 
could see, was a high, circular stock- 
ade, built in the strongest possible 
manner, inclosing several acres. 
But what this vast inclosure could 
be intended for passed both Lutt- 
rel's and my own comprehension. 
Facing us was the opening, and as 
a huge wild fig offered shade and a 
resting place, we drove the bullock 
cart inside. 

" Hark," suddenly exclaimed 
Luttrel, holding up his hand. 

For breaking the strange silence 
peculiar to tropic interiors, came a 
continuous popping of muskets — 
now on the right hand, now on the 
left, very much nearer than we had 
yet heard them. And between the 
explosions horns were blown and 
drums beaten. 

Luttrel seized the drunken Sin- 
galese by the shoulder and pulled 
him out of the wagon. The sud- 
den shock seemed to bring him to 
his senses somewhat. Rubbing his 
eyes vigorously, he looked about 
him at the stockade inclosure. 
Then, as the advancing sounds 
smote upon his ear, he uttered one 
comprehensive yell and bolted for 
the open. 

As Luttrel stared at me in be- 
wilderment, a distant crashing of 
bushes began to be heard. And all 
at once, from a belt line of woods 
facing the entrance to the stockade, 
appeared a big elephant. 

Trumpeting with fear or rage, we 
did not know which, he headed 
straight for us. Following came 
not one more but twenty. And fol- 
lowing the twenty were at least 
three score more big and little 
elephants. At the same moment 
a tremendous fusillade burst from 
the cover. Yells and screams fol- 
lowed, and a hundred native beaters 
rushed into sight. 

I remember that Luttrel threw 
his rifle to his shoulder and fired 
at the charging elephant. Invol- 
untarily ,1 did the same. The great 
mountain of flesh tottered and fell 
within ten ieet of where we stood. 
The remainder of the herd, with 
wild trumpeting, broke right and 
left in the very entrance of the stockade, and 
dashing through the fleeing lines of beaters, 
were lost to sight in the jungle. 

For a moment it seemed as though we had 
escaped death in one form to meet it in an- 
other. For, maddened by the escape of the 
mighty prey upon which for four days they had 
been gradually closing in, full fifty natives made 
a mad onrush toward Luttrel and myself. 

Fortunately at that moment Mr. Dewey, a 
sunbrowned Englishman, came up at full 
gallop, and shouted something in the native 
dialect. The half naked mob stopped on the 
instant as Dewey rode forward. 

He listened rather impatiently to Luttrel's 
hurried explanation. 

" It's a pretty expensive job for me — row J 
shall have to wait a couple of weeks for an- 
other herd to be driven in, but I suppose it 
can't be helped," he said dryly. And I don't 
think he was any better pleased when he 
learned our errand, particularly as after con- 
siderable haggling we settled upon three hun- 
dred guineas as the sum we would claim for the 
salvage on his " live stock." 

But an amicable adjustment was finally 
reached, and we returned to Point de Galle 
fully satisfied — speaking for myself — with our 
experience in zoological pursuits. 



APRIL 14, 1888. 



THE GOLDEN ARGOSY. 



317 



A RADIANT MEMORY. 

BY MARGARET EYTINGE. 

Two lovely women went one day, 

From homes with every comfort blessed 

That wealth can give, a friend to seek 
Who long had known no health nor rest. 

Bleak was the way— the air was chill- 
Trie sky was dark with winter gloom, 

And when at last their search was done 
They found her in a dreary room. 

And yet years after, looking back 
Upon that day, it seemed so bright, 

With sunny paths and cloudless skies 
And many hints of spring dslight ; 

For memory to them returned 
Only a kindness shrined in grace, 

A grateful prayer with glad tears gemmed, 
A smile upon a wistful face. 



{This story commenced in No. 270.] 

Mr. Malgrove's Ward ; 

OR, 

LIVING IT DOWN, 

By TALBOT BAINES REED, 
Author of "Reginald Cruden," etc., etc. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

IN THE DEPTHS. 

t CHILL October squall was whistling 
through the trees in Regent's Park, stir- 
ring up the fallen leaves on the foot- 
paths, and making the nurse maids, as 
they listlessly trundled their perambulators, 
shiver suddenly and think of the nursery fire and 
the singing kettle on the hob. The gathering 
clouds above sent the park keeper off to his shed 
for a waterproof, and emptied the carriage 
drive of the vehicles in which a few people were 
taking an afternoon airing. 

A little knot of small boys, intently playing 
football, with piled up jackets for goals, were 
the last to take alarm at the lowering sky ; nor 
was it till the big drops fell in their midst that 
they scattered right and left, and left the park 
empty. 

No ; not quite empty. One young 
man sat on through the rain on the 
seat from which he had been watch- 
ing the boys' game. A shabby, al- 
most ragged young man, with a dis- 
agreeable face and an almost con- 
temptuous curl of the lip, as the rain, 
gathering force every second, buffeted 
him in the face and drenched him 
where he sat. There were a hundred 
seats more sheltered than that on 
which he sat ; and by walking 
scarcely fifty yards he could have es- 
caped the rain altogether. But he 
sa: recklessly on, and let the rain do 
its worst, his eyes still on the empty 
football field, and his ears ringing 
still with the merry shouts of the de- 
parting boys. 

My reader, had he chanced to pass 
down that deserted walk on that 
stormy afternoon, would hardly have 
recognized in the lonely occupant of 
that seat the John Jeffreys he had 
seen six months ago at Clarges 
Street. It was not merely that he 
looked haggard and ill, or that his 
clothes were ragged. That was bad 
enough, but the reader has seen him 
in such a plight before. But what he 
has not seen before — or if at all, only 
in passing moments — is the bitter, 
hard look on his face, changing it 
miserably. A stranger passing him 
that afternoon would have said, 

"There sits a man who hates all 
the world." 

We who know him better would 
have said, 

" There sits our poor dog with a 
bad name, deserted even by hope." 

And so it was. 

Jeffreys had left Clarges Street 
smarting under a sense of injury, but 
still resolved to keep up the fight for 
his good name, in which for so many months 
past he had been engaged. 

Not by appealing to Mr. Rimbolt. Although 
he knew, had Mr. Rimbolt been at home, all 
this would not have happened, his pride forbade 
him now to take a single step to reinstate him- 
self in a house from which he had been so igno- 
miniously expelled. No, not even when that 
house held within its walls Percy and Pvaby. 
The idea of going back filled him with horror. 

On the contrary, he would hide himself from 
them, even though they sought to find him ; and 
not till his name was as good as theirs would he 
see them again or come near them. 

So thought poor Jeffreys as he slowly turned 
his back on all that was dear to him in life, and 
went out into the night of the unsympathetic 
city. 

At first, as I said, he tried to hold up his 
head. He inquired in one or two quarters for 
work. But the question always came up, 

' ' What is your character ? " 

" I have none," he would say, doggedly. 

" Why did you leave your last place ?" 

" I was turned away." 

" What for ? " 

" Because I am supposed to have killed a boy 
once." 

Once indeed he did get a temporary job at a 
warehouse — as a porter — and for a week, a 



happy week, used his broad back and brawny 
arms in carrying heavy loads and lifting weights. 
Hope sprang again within him as he labored. 
He might yet, by beginning at the lowest step, 
rise above his evil name and conquer it. 

Alas ! One day a shilling was lost from the 
warehouseman's desk. Jeffreys had been seen 
near the place and was suspected. He resented 
the charge scornfully at first, then savagely, and 
in an outbreak of rage struck his accuser. He 
was impeached before the head of the firm, and 
it was discovered that he had come without a 
character. That was enough. He was bundled 
out of the place at five minutes' notice, with a 
threat of a policeman if he made it six. And 
even when a week later the shilling was found 
in the warehouseman's blotting paper, no one 
doubted that the cashiered rogue was as cunning 
as he was nefarious. 

After that he had given up what seemed the 
farce of holding up his head. What was the 
use, he said, when, as sure as night follows day, 
that bad name of his dogged him wherever he 
went ? 

So Jeffreys be- 
gan to go down. 
In after years he 
spoke very little 
of those six 
months in Lon- 
don, and when he 
did, it was about 
people he had 
met, and not 
about himself. 
What he did, 
where he lodged, 
how he lived, 
these were mat- 
ters he never 
mentioned, and 
never liked to be 
asked about. 

I am quite sure 
myself that the 4 

reason of this si- ^ 

lence was not 
shame. He was 
not one of those 



were used to. But a man who spoke like a gen- 
tleman, who took no pleasure in their low 
sports, and sat dumb while they talked loud and 
broad, seemed to them an interloper and an in- 
truder. 

Once — it was about the beginning of August 
— in a lodging house across the river, he met a 
young fellow to whom for a day or two he felt 
drawn. His story was a sad one. His father 
had been a gentleman, and the boy had been 
brought up in luxury and virtue. While at 
school his father had died, and before he had 
left school his mother had been married again 
to a brute, who not only broke her heart, but, 
after setting himself to corrupt his stepson, had 
at last turned him adrift without a pehny in the 
world. The lad, with no strong principle to 
uphold him, had sunk deep in vice. Yet there 
lurked about him occasional flashes of some- 
thing better. 

"After all," he would say to Jeffreys, as the 
two lay at night almost on bare boards, "what's 
the odds ? I may be miserable one day, but I'm 




" My boy, my boy," cried the lad, " you're in 
luck, and just in time. Who says I'm lost to all 
decency after this ? Why, I might have hidden 
it away when I heard you coming up. No. 
There's something of the nobleman left in me 
yet, Half of this is yours, Jeffreys, only help 
yourself quickly, man, or I may repent." 

He held out the bottle tremblingly and with a 
wince that spoke volumes. 

"Take it. I never went halves before, and 
perhaps I never shall again." 

Jeffreys took the bottle, it was brandy. 

" Half a tumbler of that, Jeffreys, Will make 
another man of you. It will send you into 
dreatolahd, You'll forget there is such a thing 
as misery in the world, fJon't be squeamish, 
old fellow. You're cold and weak, you know 
you are ; you ought to take it. You're not too 
good, surely — eh ? Man alive, if you never do 
anything worse than take a drop of brandy, you'll 
pass muster. Come, I say, you're keeping me 
waiting." 

Jeffreys sank on a chair and raised the bottle 
half Way to his lips. 

What Was it, as he did so, Which flashed be- 
fore his eyes and caused him suddenly to set it 
down and rise to his feet ? 

Nothing real, it is true, yet nothing new. Just 
a momentary glimpse of a boy's pale face some- 
where in the dim gloom of that little room, and 
then all was as before. Yet to Jeffreys the 
whole world was suddenly altered. 

He set the bottle down, and neither heeding 
ribr hearing the expostulations of his companion, 
he left the house never to return. 



JEFFREYS SLOWLY DREW THE DROWNING MAN FROM THE WATER. 



fellows who revenge themselves on fate by 
deliberately going to the bad. At his worst, he 
had no taste for vice nor any affinity for it. He 
may have sunk low, not because he himself was 
low, but because in his miserable feud with all 
the world he scorned not to share the lot of 
others as miserable as himself. 

His money — he had a few pounds when he 
left Clarges Street — soon failed him. He made 
no great efforts to keep it, and was relieved to 
see the end of it. His companions in misery 
soon helped him away with il, and he let them. 

But when it was gone the old necessity for 
work came back. By day he hardly ever ven- 
tured out of his court for fear of being seen by 
some one who would attempt to rescue him 
from his present condition. At night he wan- 
dered restlessly about in the narrow streets pick- 
ing up an early morning job at Covent Garden 
Market or in the omnibus stables. 

He moved his lodgings incessantly, one week 
inhabiting a garret in Westminster, another 
sharing a common room in Whitechapel, an- 
other doing without lodgings altogether. He 
spoke little or not at all to his fellow miserables, 
not because he despised them, but because they 
fought shy of him. They disliked his superior 
ways, and his ill concealed disgust of their 
habits and vices. They could have forgiven 
him for being a criminal in hiding ; that they 



jolly the next. Now you seem to prefer to be 
uniformly miserable." 

" Hardly a case of preference," said Jeffreys ; 
"but I'm not sure that it wouldn't be more mis- 
erable to be jolly." 

' ' Try it. You'd give a lot to forget all about 
everything for an hour, wouldn't you ? " 

" It would be pleasant." 

" You can do it." 

" By dropping asleep ? " 

"Sleep ! That's the time I'm most miserable. 
I remember the old days then, and my mother, 
and — I say, Jeffreys, I was once nearly drowned 
at Eton, just as I was going down for the last 
time I put up my hand, and a fellow saw it and 
came in and fished me out. What a born fool 
I was to do it. I was grateful to the fellow at 
the time. I hate hiih now ! " 

And the poor fellow, with all the manhood 
out of him, cried himself to sleep ; and Jeffreys 
in mercy said not a word to stop him. 

A pitiful sort of friendship sprang up between 
the two — the bitter strong one and the vicious 
weak one. It kept a soft corner in Jeffreys's 
heart to find some one who held to him even in 
this degradation, and to the poor prodigal it 
was worth anything to have someone to talk 10. 

Coming home one wet morning from one of 
his nocturnal expeditions, Jeffreys found his 
fellow lodger up, with a bottle in his hands. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

A STRANGE RESCUE. 

fHAT night Jeffreys slept in another part 
of the town ; and the poor bewildered 
prodigal, deserted by his only friend, 
cried half the night through, and cursed 
again the boy who had once saved his life. 

Jeffreys, hidden in another part of the great 
city, sank to a lower depth of misery than ever. 
To him it seemed now that his bad name had 
taken form in the face of young Forrester, and 
was dogging him in adversity more relentlessly 
even than in prosperity. It comforted 
him not at all to think it had saved 
him from a drunkard's ruin. He de- 
spised himsElf, when he came to him- 
self, for having been scared so 
weakly. Yet he avoided his old 
quarters and turned his back on the 
one friend he had, rather than face 
his evil genius again. 

He half envied his new fellow 
lodgers. Four of them, at least, 
stood a chance of being hanged. Yet 
they managed to shake off care -and 
live merrily. 

" Come, old gallus," said one young 
fellow, " perk up. You're safe enough 
here. Don't be down. We're all in 
the same boat. Save up them long 
faces for eight o'clock in the morning 
at the police court. Don't spoil our 
fun." 

It was half pathetic, this appeal ; 
and Jeffreys for a day tried to be 
cheerful. But he could not dc it, 
and considerately went somewhere 
else. 

How long was it to go on ? A 
time came when he could get no 
work, and starvation stared him in 
theface. But adyingboy bequeathed 
him a loaf, and once again he was 
doomed to live. 

But a loaf, and the proceeds of a 
week's odd jobs, came to an end, and 
now once more, as he sits in the rain 
in Regent's Park, he faces something 
more than the weather. He has not 
tasted food for two whole days, and 
for all he knows may never taste it 
again. 

So he sits there, with his eyes still 
on the football ground, and his ears 
ringing still with the merry shouts of 
the departed boys. 

The scene changes as he stays on. 
It is a football field still, but not the 
brown patch in a London park. There 
are high trees, throwing shadows across the 
green turf, and in the distance an old red school 
house. And the boys are no longer the lively 
London urchins. Their faces are familiar, and 
the names they call each other he knows. Nor 
is the game the same. It, like the London boys' 
game, has ended suddenly, but not in a helter 
skelter stampede in the rain. No. It is a silent, 
awe struck group round something on the 
ground ; and as he, Jeffreys, elbows his way 
among them, he sees again a boy's face lying 
there pallid and perhaps lifeless. Then instinc- 
tively he lifts his hands to his ears. For a howl 
rises on all sides which deafens him, stuns him. 
After all, it is only the last effort of the Octo- 
ber squall in Regent's Park buffeting him with a 
fusillade of rain and withered leaves. He takes 
his hands from his ears, and, with a sigh, gets 
up and walks away, he cares not whither. 

His steps lead him round the park and into 
the long avenue. The rain and the wind are 
dying down, and already a few wayfarers, sur- 
prised by the sudden storm, are emerging from 
their shelters and speeding home. 

The park keeper boldly parades the path in 
his waterproof, as if he had braved the elements 
since daybreak. And there, coming to meet 
him, sheltered under one umbrella, are two who 
perhaps have no grudge against the storm for 
detaining them in their walk that afternoon. 



318 



THE GOLDEN ARGOSY. 



NUMBER 390. 



It is long since Jeffreys has seen anything to 
remind him of the world he has left, but there is 
something about these two as they advance to- 
wards him, their faces hidden by the umbrella, 
which attracts him. The youth is slim and well 
dressed, and holds himself well ; his companion's 
figure reminds him of a form he knew — can it 
be only six months ago ? — light, gentle, cour- 
ageous, beside which he has walked in the Wild- 
tree Park and on the London pavements. 

They meet — the tramp and the young couple. 
They never heed him ; how should they ? But 
a turn of the umbrella gives him a momentary 
glimpse of them, and in that glimpse poor hap- 
less Jeffreys recognizes Raby and Scarfe 1 

Surely this blow was not needed to crush him 
completely. 

How long he stood, statue-like, looking down 
the path by which they had gone, neither he nor 
any one else could tell. But it was dark when 
he was roused by a harsh voice in front of 
him. 

"Come, sheer off, young fellow! It's lime 
you was out of the park ! " 

" Yes, I'll go," said he, and walked slowly to 
the gate. 

He could not quit the park, but wandered 
round and round it outside its inhospitable pal- 
ings, covering mile after mile of wet pavement, 
heedless of the now drenching rain, heedless 
of his hunger, heedless of his failing limbs. 

The noisy streets had grown silent, and a 
clock near at hand had struck two when he 
found himself on the little bridge which crosses 
the neighboring canal. It was too dark to see 
the water below, but he heard the hard rain 
hissing on its surface. 

He had stood there before, in happier days, 
and wondered how men and women could 
choose, as they sometimes did, to end their 
misery in that narrow streak of sluggish water. 

He wondered less now. Not that he felt 
tempted to follow them; in his lowest depths of 
misery that door of escape had never allured 
him. Yet as he stood he felt fascinated, and 
even soothed, by the ceaseless noise *jf the rain 
on the invisib'e water beneath. It seemed al- 
most like the voice of a friend far away. 

He had been listening for some time, crouch- 
ed in a dark corner of the parapet, when he be- 
came aware of footsteps approaching. 

Imagining at first they were those of a po- 
liceman coming to dislodge the tramp from his 
lurking place, he prepared to get up and move 
on. But listening again he remained where he 
was. 

The footsteps were not those of a policeman. 
They approached fitfully, now quickly, now 
slowly, now stopping still ft r a moment or two, 
yet they were too agitated tc : those of a drunk- 
ard, and too uncertain for those of a fugitive 
from justice. 

As they drew near to the bridge they stopped 
once more, and Jeffreys, peering through the 
darkness, saw a form clutching the railings, and 
looking down in the water. Then a voice 
groaned, "Oh, my God!" and the footsteps 
hurried on. 

Jeffreys had seen misery in many forms go 
past him before, but something impelled him 
now to rise and follow the footsteps of this 
wanderer. 

The plashing rain drowned every sound, and 
it was with difficulty that Jeffreys, weak and 
weary as he was, could keep pace with the fig- 
ure flitting before him, for after that glance 
over the bridge the fugitive no longer halted in 
his pace, but went on rapidly. 

Across the bridge he turned and followed the 
high banks of the canal. Then he halted, ap- 
parently looking for a way down. It was a 
long, impatient search, but at last Jeffreys saw 
him descend along some railings which sloped 
down the steep grass slope almost to the tow- 
ing path. 

Jeffreys followed with difficulty, and when at 
last he stood on the towing path the fugitive 
was not to be seen, nor was it possible to say 
whether he had turned right or left. 

Jeffreys turned to the right, and, anxiously 
scanning both the bank and the water, tramped 
along the muddy path. 

A few yards down he came upon a heap of 
stones piled up across the path. Any one 
clambering across this must have made noise 
enough to be heard twenty yards away, and, as 
far as he could judge in the darkness, no one 
had stepped upon it. 

He therefore turned back hurriedly and re- 
traced his steps. 

The sullen water, hissing still under the 
heavy rain, gave no sign as he ran along its 
edge and scanned it with anxious eyes. 

The high bank on its left, beyond the palings, 
became inaccessible from below. The wan- 
derer must, therefore, be before him on the 
path. 

For five minutes he ran on, straining his eyes 
and ears, when suddenly he stumbled. It was 
a hat upon the path. 

In a moment Jeffreys dived into the cold 
water. As he came to the surface and looked 
round there was nothing but the spreading cir- 
cles of his own^plungetobe seen, but a moment 
afterwards, close to the bank, he had a glimpse 
of something black rising for an instant and 
then disappearing. Three strokes brought him 
to the spot just as the object rose again. 

To seize it and strike out for the bank was 
the work of a moment. The man, for it was he, 
was alive, and as Jeffreys slowly drew him from 
the water lie opened his eyes and made a faint 
resistance. 

,s Let me go!" he said, with an oath; "let 
me go'." 



But his head fell heavily on his rescuer's 
shoulder while he spoke, and when at last he 
lay on the path he was senseless. 

Jeffreys carried him to the shelter of an arch, 
and there did what he could to restore anima- 
tion. It was too dark to see the man's face, 
but he could feel his pulse still beating, and 
presently he gave a sigh and moved his head. 

" What did you do it for ?" he said, piteous- 

iy. 

Jeffreys started. He knew the voice, hoarse 
and choked as it was. 

" What's your name ?" he said, raising the 
form in his arms and trying to see the face. 
" Who are you ?" 

" I've got no name. Why couldn't you let 
me be ?" 

" Isn't your name Trimble — Jonah Trim- 
ble >" 

The poor fellow lifted his head with a little 
shriek. 

"Oh, don't give me up! Don't have me 
taken up ! Help me !" 

" I will help you all I can, Trimble." 

"Why, you know me, then ?- t -you're 

Who are you ?" 

" I'm John Jeffreys." 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

A N A N GEL UNA W ARES. 

||N a wretched garret of a house in Storr 
Alley, near Euston, at the sick bed of his 
old enemy, Jeffreys reached a turning point 
in his life. 

How he conveyed the half drowned Jonah on 
the night of the rescue from the canal bank to 
his lodgings he scarcely knew. 

The hand of a friend is often near when it is 
least expected. So Jonah had found, when he 
believed all hope and life to be gone ; and so 
Jeffreys had found, when, with his poor burden 
in his arms, he met, beside a barge at day- 
break, a dealer in vegetables for whom he had 
sometimes worked at Covent Garden, and who 
now, like a good Samaritan, not only gave the 
two a lift in his cart, but provided Jeffreys with 
an opportunity of earning a shilling on the 
way. 

This shilling worked marvels, for both Trim- 
ble and Jeffreys were on the point of starva- 
tion ; and without food that night rescue would 
have been but a farce. 

It was soon evident that Jonah had far more 
the matter with him than the mere effects of his 
immersion. He was a wreck, body and soul. 
The dispensary doctor who called to see him 
gave him a fortnight to live, and the one or two 
brave souls who penetrated, on errands of 
mercy, even into Storr Alley, marked his hollow 
cough and sunken cheeks, and knew that before 
long one name more would drop out of their 
lists. 

It was slowly, and in fragments oniy, that 
Jeffreys heard his story. Jonah was forever re- 
proaching him with what had happened on the 
canal bank. 

" Why couldn't you have left a fellow alone ? 
I know, you wanted to gloat over me. Go on. 
Be as happy as you like. Enjoy your revenge. 
I did you a bad turn , now you've done me one, 
so we're quits." 

Here a fit of coughing would shake the 
breath out of the sufferer, and it would be a 
minute or two before he could proceed. 

Jeffreys wisely avoided all expostulations or 
self excuse. He smoothed the poor fellow's pil- 
low, and supported him in his arms until the 
cough was over and he could proceed. 

" It was a bad day you ever came to our 
school, John " — Jonah had adopted the name 
by which Jeffreys was known in Storr Alley — 
" I hated you the first time I saw you. You've 
got the laugh on your side now ; but I can tell 
you you wouldn't have had it then if you knew 
the way I followed you up. Yes" — and here 
came a shadow of his old sinister smile — "I 
made it all fit in like a puzzle. Did you never 
miss a letter you had that day you called at the 
York post office — a letter about the dead burying 
their dead, and young Forrester — oh, yes you 
may start ; I know all about it. I took that 
letter out of your pocket. And I know where 
you buried his body ; do you suppose I didn't 
see you throw yourself on the very place and 
say, ' It was here ?' You held your nose in the 
air, didn't you, in the school ? and palmed 
yourself off on Freddy and Teddy Rosher for a 
model. But 1 bowled you out. I showed you 
up. That was the day of my laugh. Now 
you've got yours." 

The cough again stopped him ; and when he 
recovered his breath, Jeffreys said, quietly : 

" Don't talk, Jonah, you bring on your 
cough. Let me read to you." 

Then for the remainder of that day the story 
would rest ; till later on, Jonah would abruptly 
return to it. 

"Mother believed in you, and cried a whole 
day after you had gone. Yes, and you'll be 
glad to hear the school broke up all to pieces. 
Farmer Rosher took away his boys and spread 
a report about us ; and at the end of a month 
we scarcely had o dozen left. Mother and I 
lived like cat and dog. I struck work, and she 
had to do everything, and it broke her up. It 
would never have happened if you hadn't come 
into the place. I couldn't live there any longer. 
Mother had a little bit saved, fifty pounds or so, 
and one night, after we had had a terrible row, 
I took every penny of it out of her monkey box 
and came up to London. Now are you pleased ? 
Hadn't she something to bless you for ? I say, 
John, get us some water quick, I'm parched." 

On another day Jeffreys heard the rest* 



" I came up to London, but it wasn't the fun 
I expected. Everybody I met I thought was a 
detective ; and all night long I dreamed of my. 
mother. I tried to drown it, and lived as wild 
a life as you like till my money was done. Then 
it would have been worth your while to see me. 
Everybody was against me. Fellows I'd stood 
treat to kicked me out into the street, and fel- 
lows who owed me money laughed in my face. 
I thought I'd go back to York after all and get 
mother to take me back ; but when I came to 
start I couldn't face it. 

" That's all. I stood it as long as I could. I 
pawned everything, and when that was done, I 
stole — and got three months en the treadmill. 
How do you like that ? When I got out a city 
missionary heard of me and found me a job ; 
but I stole again, and ran away. You wouldn't 
have thought I had it in me at York, would 
you ? I was a respectable young fellow there. 
But it was all there ; and it was you brought it 
all out. Last week I made up my mind to put 
an end to it all. It took me a struggle to face 
it ; but I was settled to do it — and then, as if 
you hadn't done enough harm, you come and 
spoil my last chance." 

" Not your last chance, Jonah." 

" No. I've a week more to live. Then vou'U 
be rid of me." 

He lingered day after day, and it was abso- 
lutely necessary for Jeffreys to go and seek 
work in order to keep even that wretched roof 
above their heads. 

One evening when he returned with a few 
coppers, Jonah met him with a face brighter 
than any that he had yet seen. 

"I've had some one here today. A better 
sort than you. One that's got a right to talk 
about what's better. A lady, John, or else an 
angel. Did you send her ? " 

" I ? No, I know no ladies." 

"I don't know how it was, I could tell her 
anything — and I say, John, it would make you 
cry to hear her voice. It did me. You never 
made me cry, or saw me ; I hate to hear you 
preach ; but she — why she doesn't preach at all, 
but she says all you've got to say a hundred 
times better." 

He was excited and feverish that night, and 
in his sleep murmured scraps of the gentle talk 
of this ministering angel, which even from his 
lips fell with a reflected sweetness on the trouble 
tossed spirit of the watcher. 

Jeffreys had succeeded in getting a temporary 
job which took him away during the next two 
days. But each night on his return he found 
his invalid brighter and softened in spirit by 
reason of his angel's visit. 

" She'll come tomorrow, John. There's 
magic in her, I tell you. I see things I never 
saw before. You've been kind to me, John, 
and given up a lot for me, but if you were to 
hear her — " 

Here the dying youth could get no farther. 

He seemed much the same in the morning 
when Jeffreys started for work. The last words 
he said to his friend departed were : 

" She's coming again today." 

When Jeffreys came home in the evening the 
garret was silent, and on the bed lay all that 
remained on earth of the poor wrecked life 
which had been so strangely linked with his 
own. 

As he stood over the lifeless body his eyes 
fell on a scrap of paper lying on the pillow. It 
was folded and addressed in pencil, " To the 
fellow lodger." 

Jeffreys caught it eagerly, and in a turmoil 
of agitation read the few lines within. 

"Your friend was not alone when he died, 
peacefully, this afternoon, He left a message 
for you, ' Tell him he was right when he told 
me I had a chance. If it had not been for him 
I should have lost it.' He also said, l Some day 
■he may see mother and tell her about me. Tell 
her I died better than I lived.' Dear friend, 
whose name I do not know, don't lose heart. 
God is merciful, and will be your friend when 
every one else is taken from you." 

It was not the words of this touching little 
message from the dead which brought a gasp 
to Jeffreys's throat and sent the color from his 
cheeks as he read it. The writing, hasty and 
agitated as it was, was a hand he had seen be- 
fore. He had in his pocket an envelope, well 
worn now, addressed to him months ago, in the 
same writing, anc! as he held the two side by 
side he knew Raby had written both. 
(To be continued.) 



THE STOLEN DIAMOND. 

BY DAVID KER. 

'ELL, I am caught this time, sure 
enough ! Whatever shall I do ? " 

In fact, of all the "fixes" in 
which Charley Herbert had ever 
been, this was certainly the worst. It is bad 
enough to lose one's way in a Brazilian forest 
or Iceland bogs ; but to lose it at nightfall amid 
the ruins of an ancient Hindoo city, at a spot 
where it was certain death for any white man 
to be caught, was worse still. 

Where was the gap by which he had entered ? 
Look which way he would, he was met by a 
mass of thorn bushes which all but hid even the 
huge crumbling wall of baked clay overhead. 
As to calling for help, any man who heard'him 
would probably begin by knocking his brains 
out for being there at all. 

Meanwhile Mr. Herbert was just beginning 
to wonder why his son did not come home. 
Manfully had this devoted missionary borne up 
against sickness, long years of seemingly fruit- 



less labor, and the jeers and insults of the Hin- 
doo mob. And now, at last, he thought he saw 
some hope of good. The natives were finding 
out that this man, who nursed them in their 
sickness when their own countrymen turned 
away from them, and who gave them food and 
clothes instead of taking toll from them as the 
priests did, was a better fellow than they had 
been taught to think him. The Brahmins, on 
their part, decided that there would be no peace 
for them as long as " the man with the book" 
(as they called Mr. Herbert) remained in the 
city ; and they determined to get rid of him, 
cost what it might. 

So the missionary had enough to think of as 
he sat there in the glow of the sunset among 
his books and papers, waiting for his son to 
come home, and rather surprised at his being 
so late. But he would have been much more 
surprised could he have seen what Charley was 
doing at that very moment. 

In hunting for some way of escape, the boy 
had at length come upon a thick clump of 
bushes, in the middle of which he could make 
out a kind of low archway, seeming to lead 
right down into the earth. But it mattered lit- 
tle to him where it led to, if it did but get him 
out. Unable to break through the bushes, he 
wriggled underneath them, and in another mo- 
ment had vanished into the utter darkness of 
the underground passage. 

At last there came a faint gleam of light ; the 
passage grew higher, the floor less damp and 
slippery, and suddenly there opened before him 
an archway like that by which he had entered. 
But instead of springing eagerly through it, 
Charley drew back with a look of dismay. 

Before him lay a vast shadowy colonnade of 
low. massive pillars, curiously painted and 
carved in the Hindoo fashion, on one side of 
which, enthroned upon a mighty block of mar- 
ble, towered a monstrous image of the most 
grim and terrible of all the terrible Hindoo 
idols, Shiva the Destroyer, with a huge spotted 
snake clutched in his extended hand, and the 
third eye in the center of his forehead sparkling 
like fire in the dim light of the lamps that 
burned around him. The underground passage 
had led our hero right into the great Brahmin 
temple of the city 1 

But the brave lad was not to be so easily 
scared from his purpose. Throwing himself on 
the ground, he crept forward from pillar to pil- 
lar, keeping in the shadow as much as he could. 

" I should think some of the priests must be 
about somewhere," thought he, "and when 
they go out I'll try to slip out after them, any- 
how." 

But just as lie reached the great idol, steps 
and voices were heard approaching, and he had 
barely time to hide behind the image when two 
men in native dress came up with a ladder, and 
one of them, planting it against the marble 
throne, began to ascend. 

Were these men going to steal the diamond 
eyes of the idol ? 

The man on the ladder began to loosen with 
the point of his knife the great diamond in the 
middle of the idol's forehead, while the other 
stepped forward to watch him. As he did so 
the lamplight came full upon his face, and 
Charley recognized with an amazement which 
almost overcame his caution Rung Rao himself, 
the chief priest of the temple 1 

But at that moment Rung Rao uttered a few 
words to his companion in the native dialect, 
which Charley well understood, and which at 
once drove everything else out of the boy's head. 
Those words had given him a clew to a plot so 
foul and base that he could hardly keep himself 
from rushing out and confronting the plotters. 
He listened with clenched teeth and flashing 
eyes till the chief villain had fully instructed his 
confederate ; but when the latter stole out of the 
temple by a side door with the diamond in his 
hand, Charley was not far behind him. 

The Hindoo turned into the courtyard of Mr. 
Herbert's house. 

Stealing up to the open window of the mis- 
sionary's study, the man crept in and put the 
diamond in a tiny crack of the wall close to the 
floor. But just then a blow from behind felled 
him, and Mr. Herbert, coming hastily from an 
inner room at the noise, started to see his miss- 
ing son standing with a heavy wooden shovel in 
his hands over a prostrate Hindoo. 

" Charley ! what's the matter ? " 

"Tie him!" gasped the boy, with what 
breath he had left. 

Mr. Herbert, supposing the man to be a thief, 
tore down the cord of the blind above the door- 
way, and bound him hand and foot, while 
Charley panted out that he had heard Rung 
Rao tell the Hindoo to hide the diamond in the 
house of "the man with the book," and then 
accuse him of having stolen it. 

"Ah, indeed 1" said the missionary. "My 
boy, there's no time to be lost. Go quick and 
change your clothes " (for Charley was black as 
a sweep from his travels in the underground 
passage) " while I talk to this fellow." 

Next morning the whole city was in an up- 
roar. The sacred diamond had been stolen from 
Shiva's torenead, and every one was crying lor 
vengeance upon the thief. The people turned 
out by thousands, and came rushing into the 
great square in front of the palace, from the 
balcony of which the king himself — a stately 
man of middle age — looked down upon the 
struggling, shouting throng. 

The moment he appeared, two priests sent by 
Rung Rao (who was watching the scene from a 
corner of the square) came forward to make 
their complaint. One of their brotherhood, the 



APRIL H, 1838. 



THE GOLDEN ARGOSY. 



319 



trusty Mir Hari, had seen a man whom he recog- 
nizee! as one of Mr. Herbert's servants, coming 
hastily out of the recess in which the image of 
Shiva stood. Suspecting some mischief, he had 
followed the man home, and had seen him hand 
over to the missionary something small and 
glittering, which must have been the stolen 
jewel. 

" You are sure, tnen," asked the king, "that 
' the man with the book ' is really guilty ? " 
. " He must be, or why should he have fled 
from his house ? " answered the priests ; (t and 
besides, who but an unbeliever would dare to 
steal the holy diamond of Shiva ? " 

" It is well spoken," rejoined the king with a 
grim smile; "but would the unbeliever have 
brought it straight to me after he had stolen it ? 
Behold your diamond ! " 

The expression of Rung Rao's face as the king 
held up the lost jewel would have made the for- 
tune of a painter. But every face in the crowd 
became as blank as his when Mir Hari himself 
stepped out upon the balcony, and with a low 
salaam to the king, told the whole story of the 
plot, of his own capture at the missionary's 
house, and of his agreement to save himself by 
letting the Brahmins think thai their plan had 
succeeded, and thus helping to catch them in 
their own trap. 

Rung Rao promptly disappeared, and never 
again did he show his face on the scene of his 
treachery. Mir Hari, the lesser villain, was 
banished for life. As to Charley Herbert, he 
was the hero of the whole city for many a day 
after. 

♦■•-♦ 

A LITERAL READER. 

Miss McFlurky opened a letter the other day and 
read at the beginning " Burn at once." 

She did so, and is now raking among the cinders 
for some trace of the contents or even the writer's 
signature. 



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No " hardly ever'- about it. Hh had an attack of what 
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that needed a remedy such as Dr. Pierce's " Pleasant 
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TYVQ"PTT , T>C1T A It* Natnre, Onuses, 
U X vDI: XUr (DXJX. Prevention and ^urr, 

beina: the experience n{' an actual Kutl'erer. hv .lOMN II. 
McAi.vin, Lowell, Mass., 14 years Tax Collector. Sent 
free to any address. 
In replying to this adv. mention golden Argosy. 



STYLO AND FOUNTAIN PENS. 

Send for circulars Asrents -wanted. Fountain Holder 
ntted with bestqualitv Gold Pen. Stvlo, $1 ; Fountain 
$l.f»andUp, J. 1?riUJOH& CO . 106 Liberty St., N. Y. 

in replying to tlii* adv. mention Golden Argosy, 



What is Scrofula 

It is that impurity in the blood, which, accumu- 
lating In the glands of the neck, produces unsightly 
lumps or swellings ; which causes painful iunuiug 
sores on the arms, legs, or feet ; which develops 
ulcers in the eyes, ears, or nose, often causing 
blindness or deafness ; which is the origin of 
pimples, cancerous growths, or the many other 
manifestations usually ascribed to "humors;" 
which, fastening upon the lungs, causes consump- 
tion and death. 

How Can it be Cured 

By taking Hood's Sarsaparilla, which, by the re- 
marnaMe cures it has accomplished, often when 
other medicines have failed, has proven itself to 
be a potent and peculiar medicine for this disease. 
If you suffer from scrofula in any of its forms, be 
sure to try Hood's Sarsaparilla. 

The Peculiar Medicine 

"I have running sores on my limbs for five 
years, so bad at times that I could not walk, nor 
sleep nights. When I commenced taking Hood's 
Sarsaparilla, I was in pain so severe that I cannot 
describe it. I had no appetite and fell away. But 
Hood's Sarsaparilla did me a wonderful amount of 
good. I have a good appetite, have gained in flesh, 
and can sleep well. My sores are almost healed, 
and I can easily do a good day's work.*' Mrs. C. F. 
Lord, Dover, N. H. 

Hood's Sarsaparilla 

Sold by all druggists. $1 ; six for $5. Prepared only 
by C. I. HOOD k CO., Lowell, Mass. 

IOO Doses One Dollar 



SOO Imp'd German Pictures, PuzzleB, Songs 
Vi'ransfer Pictures, 1 6p. Sample Book of Silk 
J Fringe Cards &. Solid 18k. Rolled GoldRJofo 

aJlfor 10c. Bird Card Co., Meriden, Otmn. 
Tit reply! iiar to this adv. mention Golden Ariro**. 

A A M nV Rcud * 1 - 25, * 2 - 10, or ® 3 - 50for a box or 
IjlAlllll I extra line Candy, prepaid by express 
east of Denver and west of New York. 
Suitable for presents. 

C. F. GUNTHEtL Confectioner, Chicago, 
In replying to t his ndv. mention Golden Ar£o»y. 

WA T^rmTTITV An active Man or Woman in every 
2x11 ±±-i±J county to *ell our t^oods. Salary 
$75 per Month and Expenses. Canvassing Outfit 
and Particulars FREE. STANDARD SILVER- 
WARE CO.. Boston, Mass. 
in replying to this adv. mention Golden Argosy. 



THE FAMOUS CUSTOM-MADE 

Plymouth Rock $3 Pants 

FULL SUJT8 AND OVEHOOATS. 

at Proportionate Prices. 

We sincerely believe 
that never before have 
we been able to offer our 
customers so good and 
stylish a line of SPRING 
GOODS as now. Our line 



DO YOU WEAR 




PANTS 



of Cheviot Suiting*. 

guaranteed absolutely all 
wool is particularly re- 
markable. Our Smooth- 
faced goods also are verv 
carefully selected to suit 
our tr;ide, whose wants 
we know now from long 
experience. For 6 cents 
we mail you 20 samples of these cloths, self measure- 
ment blanks so accurate that we guarantee a tit. Also 
if yoii mention this paper we send you a good 48-inch 
linen tape-measure. Or it you must save time, send us 
vour wnist, inside les, hip ao*J Unee measures, 
together with S3, and 35c. to prepay express or postage. 
We guarantee safe delivery. For pny cause a cus- 
tomer of ours may return bis goods and receive back his 
money or a new garment, a guarantee <>f which state- 
ment may he obtained by writing to the American 
Express Co. (capital $20, 000.000), at Boston ,\. B.— In 
buying goods by mail, it is a (rood rule lo 
send money only to concerns that are well 
known throughout the country and avoid the 
countless imitators that spring up tor a day 
to compete with old and regular establishments, 

PLYMOUTH ROCK PA1VTS CO., 

1ft Summer Street. Boston. Moss. 
In reply In sr to this adv. mention Golden Argosy- 



SCOTT STAMP AND COIN CO., LD. 

721 BROADWAY, NEW YORK CITY. 
Complete Stamp and Coin Catalogues, at 25c each. 
Albums at all prices from 25c to $20. Send stamp lor 16 
page circular. 
In replying to tots adv. mention Golden Argosy. 




$3 Printing Press! 

For cards, Ac. Circu- 
lar size $8. Press for 
small newspaper, $44. 
Send 2 stamps for List 
presses, type, cards, to 
Factory. 
Kelaey die Co., Meriden, Conn. 
In replying to this adv. mention Golden Arffoay 





Price, No. 117. 20c.; No. IIS. 25c; No. 121. 30c. By mail 
post paid. C. E Overbaugh A Co., 265 A 267 Broadway, N.Y. 
In replying to this ndv. mention Golden Argooy. 

HBDEAF 

Peck's Patent Improved Cushioned Ear Drums Perfectly 
Restore the Hearing, and perform the work of the natural 
drum. Invisible, comfortable and always in position. All 
conversation and even whispers heard distinctly, fiend for 
in.ief-^^imnlrwit-h testimonials. FKKE. AfMrefiSA**pflUOB 
F.HTSCOX. 853 Broadway, cor. 14th St.. N*ew York. 
In replying to this adv. mention Golden Argosy. 



CURE 



? u ShotCun3- M rifcj^R evotverg, 

CO J? f^^m^B^^^^^J \ J ^<Wre»«^^^r^" B ~'- 

lL r m ^^^ tor Price LitU Gu»Work«,P! tt»barchll _ 
In replying to this adv. mention Goldeu Argosy 



UTT THTQ AllTand return to me with 10 cts. 

ui iniouui silvei . ianilyot 



Cu x. j. mo \ju i silver, and you will get by mail 
a package of goods that will bring you in more money 
iu one month than anything else in America. Ab- 
solute certainty. Needs no capital. G. M. HANSON, 
Chicago, 111. 
In replying to this adv. mention Golden Argosy. 



Coleman Nat'l Business College 

NEWARK, IV. J. National Patronage, 

Best Facilities, Best course of Business 

Training, Shortest Time, Lowest Rates, 

h Open all the year. Address 

I H, COLEMAN, Pres. 

In replying to this ndv. mention Golden Argosy. 




100 ; 



N1CEC4RBS. Ymirname 
_ on all. 100 lovely scrap dic- 
tai-PR, 1 autograph album. 3 other prize*, 
ill mailed lor 10c. Send 4c. Tor book elegant NEW sam- 
ple cards and Miriest terms ever offered airents. 

HOLLEY CARD CO.. Meriden, Conn. 
In replying to this auv. mention Golden Argoiv. 



A GRAND GIFT, sasssra 
u l II tl. ^ Mil ■• operatillg Wash . 
inir Machine we will (JIVE ONE away in every town. 
Bestir, the World. No labor or rubbinsr. SEND 
FOR ONE to the NATIONAti CO . 23 Dey St.. N. Y. 
In replying to this adv. mention fiolden Argosy. 

.Nickel Plated, Self-Inking Pen and Pencil 
I Stamp. Your name on in Kuober, only SO cents. 



., 'Closes straight like pencil to carry in pocket 
Club of 6 different rr.-cs to one, address $ 1 . 
These stamps arc first-rlnss. No Ilnmbu^I 
EUBBEB BTAMP CO., New Baven, Conn. 
*n replying to thlB adv. mention Golden Argosy. 

JNIVERSITY ORGANS.- 
Ihey Lead the World.—*a5 to $500* 
Sold Direct to families. Ho Middlemen. 
Solid "Walnut-5 Octaves-Double Couplers. 
I Guaranteed for Six Years and sent, m £E 
I with Stool and Book, forTBiALiNTOUR #VW 
I Own Home before you buy. Establishxd 
1 1859. MAECHAL & SMITH, 

285 JSiist 81st Street, Ji'ew York. 
In replying ta this adv. mention Golden Argosy. 




U! 



MAGIC LANTERNS 



And STEREOPTI CONS, all prices, yievs illustrat- 
iDg every flntject for PUBLIC EXHIBITIONS, oto. 

flj 3 A profitable business for a man with small capital. Alio 
Lanterns for Home Amusement. 152 page Catalogue free* 

MCALLISTER, Optician, 49 Nassau St., N. Y. 
In replying to this adv. mention Golden Argosy. 



A Wonderful Offer 




Told Toothpick, Ivory Handled Kntfe and a Kolled Gold King 
•Ulven You to introduce our JVew Cards for '88. Fifty 
JSalin, Hush, Fringed, Embossed and Fl'ir.i I Curds, your name on 
each, and AjVLi the above articles for 35 cts. 
AST PU1NT1.VG CO.. Walliugford, CU 

In replying to this adv. mention Coldea Argosy, 



Aprf fafSBe/f 




Do you have pains about the chest and side 
and sometimes in the back ? Do you feel dull and sleepy t 
Does your mouth have a bad taste, especially in the morn- 
ing ? Is there a sort of sticky slime collects about the 
teeth? Is your appetite poor? Is there a feeling like a 
heavy load on the stomach, sometimes a faint, all-gone sen- 
sation at the pit of the stomach, which food does not satisfy? 

Are your eyes sunken ? Do your hands and feet become 
cold and feel clammy? Have you a dry cough? Do you 
expectorate greenish colored matter ? Are you hawking 
and spitting all or part of the time? Do you feel tired all 
the while? Are you nervous, irritable and gloomy? Do 
you have evil forebodings ? Is there a giddiness, a sorJ of 
whirling sensation in the head when rising up suddenly? 
Do your bowels become costive ? Is your skin dry and hot 
at times? Is your blood thick and stagnant? Are the 
whites of your eyes tinged with yellow ? Is your urine 
scanty and high colored ? Does it deposit a sediment after 
standing? Do you frequently spit up your food, sometimes 
with a sour taste and sometimes with a sweet ? Is this 
frequently attended with palpitation of the heart? Has 
your vision become impaired? Are there spots before 
the eyes? Is there a feeling of great prostration and 
weakness? If you suffer from any of these symptoms, 
send me your name and I will send you, by mail, 

On«0&o*l« «*>*&& 

Send your address on postal card to-day, as you may not ™ m M 9 l i rmrn 



see this notice again. 
Address, naming this paper, Prof. HART, 212 E. 9th St» N. Y. 

W HEPl^VllG TO THIS ADV. MENTION GOL.DEN ARGOSY, 



320 



THE GOLDEN ARGOSY. 



NUMBER 280. 




A VERY GOOD BOY. 
Employee (lying off.)—" My boy, you are working well t Pi'etty hard, too, for $2 ner week.*' 
Boy.—" 'Tain't that, sur, what I work fur ; iVsfw the example 1 'm setting ye, sur." 



COWBOY DICTIONARY, 

At a certain school in England, where the pupils 
wear a distinctive uniform, their own clothes, 
which they only put on when they leave for the 
holidays, are termed " gomers," a contraction for 
Lt go homers." This reminds us of the odd name 
cowboys give to certain every day articles, a list of 
which was recently printed in the New York Sun. 

For many things common to both Eastern and 
Western civilization cowboys use names which 
would be puzzling to any one East of the Missis- 
sippi Valley. A nurse girl is called a baby herder, 
and a valise is termed a go easter. A white shirt is 
called a Hereford shirt because Hereford cattle 
have white faces. Similarly he calls anything 
Hereford that is white ; for example, Hereford 
dishes and Hereford hats. Carrying this fancy still 
fuither, a "white" man is known as a Hereford 
man. A white shirt is a*lso called a bald faced shirt 
for a similar reason. 

A pillow the cowboy calls a heading, as anything 
he puts under his head when lying out at night on 
the plains i9 called a heading. A hotel is a road 
ranch. A sandwich is a hand out, a fair meal is a 
square, and a full meal a gorge. 



A BLIZZAUD ECHO. 

An entirely unique exemplification of the old 
saw that the longest way round is the shortest way 
there was brought out by the recent great Eastern 
blizzard. For three days Boston had to cable to 
London to find out how things were going in New 
York, the wires running under the ocean of course 
not being affected by the storm. 



OHORTHAND Wrft, " K( *"™^ a " ? *' 



"by mail °r personally- 

Oituations procured all pupHs^vlum competent, 
end for circular. W- C. CHAFFEE, Oswejrw. N. Y. 
In replying to this adv. mention Golden Argosy, 



LEGS AND ARMS, 

WITH 

II ubber Hands iV Feet 

The most natural, com- 
fortable, and durable. 
Thousands in daily use. 
I\lew Patents ana Im- 
portant improve- 
ments- 

U. S. GOVKKNMRKT 
MANUFAC1XKEK. 

A.A.MARKS.701 Broad- 
way, New York City. 



In replying to this adv. mention Golden Argosy. 




BROWN'S FRENCH DRESSING 

The Orlghtul ! lfewnre of hnltnt'ons ! 



A warded Highest Prize and Only M edal. 




Paris Exposition, 1878. 

Highest Award New Orleans Exhibition. 

HOMES 
TO-DAY 

Op, BODIES 
EAkTLES of 

MODERATE 
COST 

HOUSES 



Published in one annual and three quarterly part*. 
Annual part now ready, 9G large quarto pages, SO 
designs of buildings costing $£50 to $13,000; 
nearly 200 illustrations; colored frontispiece, and full 
set framing plans and details of country house. A 
complete hand-book for those intending to build. 
Price. Annual Part, 50c. ]£;icTi Quarterly 
Part, 25c. Tliefonrjuarts postpaid, Sjtl.Ott. 
P. 1. SMITH, AroJract, 22 School St., BOSTON. 
In replying to this ail v. mention Golden Argosy. 




"When Baby was sick, we gave her Castoria, 
"When she was a Child, she cried for Castor ia, 
When she became Miss, she clung to Castoria, 
When she had Children, she gave them Castoria, 



SCOTT'S EMULSION of Pure Cod 
Liver Oil, with Hypophosphites, is a 
combination of two of the most Valua- 
ble remedies in existence for the cure 
of Consumption and all Wasting Con- 
ditions ; is more generally recommend- 
ed and used by Physicians than any 
known remedy ; it gives most satisfac- 
tory results, and tones up the system ; 
and when the Consumptive has wasted 
away and loses hope, the Emulsion 
will speedily check the ravages of this 
terrible disease, and restore the sufferer 
to good health and happiness. This 
is equally true in regard to Rickets in 
Children, or Marasmus and Anaemia in 
Adults, and all impoverished conditions 
of the blood ; and especially desirable 
for Cclds and Chronic Coughs, as it 
will cure them more quickly than ordi- 
nary Specifics used. Palatable as milk 

Sold by all Druggists. 



SCROLL SAWS, TOOLS, 

and all material used by the Scroll 
Sawyeror Woodworker. Send i cts. 
in stampsfor large Illustrated Cata- 
logue of Saws, lools, Designs, etc. 
Or send 10c. in stamps for the Cata- 
logue, a handsome 10 cent Pattern and 
ao COUPON OFFERS. We have 
the Largest Stock of Scroll Saw 
Goods in the U. S. J. WILKINSON 
CO., 77 State Street, Chicago, HI. 
liT reply Iiur to this adv. mention Golden Argosy. 





5375 STEAM 



FREE! 



We want an active and intelligent man 
or woman to represent ur in each town. 
To those who ai"e willing to work we 
promise large profits. Cooker and 
Outfit free. Apply at once fortkrms 
WIlLMOT CASTLE & CO., 

Jtocheftter, N. Y, 



In replying to this adv. mention Golden Argosy • 




<Sgnd for 7 he mosl~ 
(2/trctefire ■ 



GOODS ' 

EVE/? PUBLISHED 
WEE EQR ALL 



.23 South 8 1 >st 
J3rt/Li\DELPH/A PA 



In re»( j i ug to this adv. mention Golden Argosy, 



Impure Blood 

Is the cause of Boils, Carbuncles, 
Pimples, Eczema, and cutaneous erup- 
tions of all kir.ds. There can be no per- 
manent cur. .or these complaints until 
1 lie poison is eliminated from the sys- 
tem. To do this thoroughly, the safest 
and most effective medicine is Ayer's 
Sarsaparilla. Give it a trial. 

" For the past twenty-five years I 
have sold Ayer's Sarsaparilla. In my 
opinion, the best remedial agencies for 
the cure of all diseases arising from im- 
purities of the blood are contained in 
this medicine." — G. C. Brock, Drug- 
gist, Lowell, Mass. 

"My wife was for a long time a suf- 
ferer from tumors on the neck. Noth- 
ing did her any good until she tried 
Ayer's Sarsaparilla, two bottles of which 
made a complete cure." — W. S. Martin, 
Burning Springs, W. Va. 

"We have sold Ayer's Sarsaparilla 
here for over thirty years and always 
recommend it when asked to name the 
best blood-purifier." — W. T. McLean, 
Druggist, Augusta, Ohio. 

Ayer's Sarsaparilla, 

PREPARED BY 

Dr. J. C. Ayer & Co., Lowell, Mass. 

Price $1 ; six bottles, $5. Worth $5 a bottle. 



GOOD NEWS 
TO L ADIES. 

Greatest Bargains &% 

Baking Powder end PREMIUMS. 
tor particulars address 
The Great American Tea Oo., 
31A33VeseySt..New York. S.T. 
In replying to this adv. mention Golden Argosy. 




Jhe American Cycles 

Descriptive Catalogue 
onApplication. 

GoimuhY&Jeffery 

s- MFG. CO.-** 

. . , Chicago, III: 
«v WES 3 The Largest Manufacturers in America 

In replying to thfor adv. mention Golden Argosy. 




EMBROIDERY SILK 

Factory Ends lit half price; one ounce in a 
box— all good Silk and good colors. Sent by 
mail on receipt of 40 cents. 100 Crazy Stitches 
in each package. Send PoBtal note or Stamps 
to THE BRAINERD & ARMSTRONG SI'OOL 
SILK CO., 621 Market Street, Philadelphia, Pa. 
or 469 Broadway, New York. 



ivZESTrrxoiT this ^-A-^e:^. 



THE Toy 
thechild 
ikes best! 

We take pleas- 
ure in inform- 
ing our patrons 
that our stock of 
the celebrated 

ANCHOR 

STONE 

BUILDING 

BLOCKS, 

COMPLETELY SOLD OUT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, 18 DOW re- 
plenished and lullv assorted, and solicit renewal of 
their kind orders. The Price-list will be forwarded gra- 
tis on application to 

F. AD. ItlCIlTISB & CO. 

NEW YORK, 310 BROADWAY, or LONDON, E. C. 

1AILWAY PLACE. FENOHURCH STREET. 

In replying to this ad\. mention Golden Argosy. 





Does the work of one costing 8100. 

INDORSED BY LEADING BUSINESS MEN. 

GEO. BECKER & CO., 

30 (Sreat Jones St New York City. 

Send for Circular. 

in replying to this adv. mention Golden Argosy. 




"FLURRIED MEN LACK WISDOM." 

Worry ! Hurry I Flurry ! are all avoided by the 
use of 

SAPOLIOI 

for quick work is not hurried work. 

Are you in a hurry to finish your house-cleaning 
and yet do it well? Then try this method: A 
email bowl of water, a cake of Sapolio, and a cloth 
and you will do more cleaning than a pail of water 
and threo cakes of ordinary soap. No. S3 



WHAT IS IT? 

Persons outside of the profession often ask, 'What 
is an Emulsion ? We answer, An Emulsion is a 
combination of two or more liquids, so thoroughly 
mixed, that each is held in pebmanknt suspension. 
Several of the much advertised "Emulsions '" now 
on the market are nothing more than compounds, 
and a microscopic examination will reveal globules 
of oil in their original form. The Emulsion made 
by Messrs. J. A. Magee & Co., Lawbkkce, Mass., 
everywhere so favorably known by physicians as 

Magee's Emulsion, 

is composed of one-third part Cod-Liver Oil, one- 
third part Extract of Malt, and one-third part Com- 
pound Syrup of Hypophosphites of Lime and Soda, 
each of which must be of the. finest quality obtain- 
able. These three valuable ingredients, with a 
little flavoring extract, are put into a ''mixer," 
where it is emulsified for six hours by steam 
power, at the rate of 128 revolutions per minute, 
which breaks every globule of the oil and combines 
it with the oilier ingredients in such a thorough 
manner that no separation will ever occur. Mtigee's 
Emulsion has no equal for the relief and cure of 
Coughs, Colds, Scrofula, Dynpepsia and General 
Debility. 
In replying to this adv. mention Golden Argosy. 



IA p mVT r F^«i (silver) pays for your address in 
-L^J \Jl.J±.y iO the "Agent's Directory," which 
goes whirling all over the United States, and you will 
get hundreds of samples, circulars, hooks, newspapers, 
magazines, etc* from those who want agents. You will 
get lots of mail matter and good reading free, and will 
be WELL PLEASED with the small investment. List 
containing name sent to each person answering this ad* 
vertisement. J, H. ROrSII. 37 Hoyleston, lid. 

In replying to this adv. mention Golden Argosy. 




IdS 

Bicycles, Tricycles, 
Tandems, Safeties. 

HIGHEST GRADE OP MACHINES MADE. 
CATALOGUE FREE. 

POPE MFG. CO.. Boston, M»*s. 
In replying to this adv. mention Golden Argeev 



WM. 



, HARLAN PAGE, Gen'l Agt, $2** 

Office: 120 Broadway, IVew York. 




Equal to .** to 4 per cent, compound interest on 

Deposits and Life Insurnnce meanwhile. 
In replying; to this adv. mention Golden Argosy* 



HfaScanTVct&defaxnedfocpu&f 




ic?7ms 



Qmp-