Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 433) (1885 11 10)

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~ a J ~~ 5 z SN , NS \ Ss 1 OMY punt COW aa Giulls Wena | al | Hy) | WSs Mi ea ste | iy | ! ic a aa. I al NS Wilk ll ~ | Sy Nh bi fae i Sill) | Captain Carl, the Corsair a CHAPTER I. A STRANGE PAIR. Upon the shores of Chesapeake Bayan old brick mansion still stands, though crumbling to decay by long neglect. Its broad piazzas, numerous wings, peaked roof and two towers give to it the appearance of a@small castic.. About it, casting it always in gloomy shadow, . j | it} THIS Sw yi} a STARA EAU AMAT | N ST HAH | i Will \ Ul LN «#LEVENTH EDITION, ag 3 bel SY WS WO NSS No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. if tii ry NG HG NS yh oT i Hh i yy Ui h f ) ii ir Z — = —— a SS —— = J / ir ze = = — - = Re ZZ) ip : —S= CA hifi, oo No. 433. i WY \ \ ‘| Wnts \ \ WILL I DO WHAT YOU ASK!” WAS THE REPLY IN A FIRM VOIOGE,

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A Cabin Boy’s Luck. is a park of gigantic trees, while the underbrush | looks like a wilderness, and thousands of acres of weed-grown fields, once flourishing with grain, now look desolate and dreary in the ex- treme. ' Time was when that old mansion, known as the Kenyon Castle, was the center of attrac- tion in the wealthy neighborhood in which it stood, and when lighted up at night its stained windows caused it to be compared to some grand a in which night service was being 201d, {ts lord and master was then the gayest of the gay, and the son who inherited it was equally as fond of extending unbounded hospitality to kindred and friends. ‘ The mansion was filled with elegant furni- ture, brought over from England, and the younger son of a noble, the builder of the “ cas- tle,” as it was generally called, was proud of his ancestry and name. Possessed of riches, he had come to America to travel, had fallen in love with a young girl, the daughter of a Maryland planter, and had built the castle for his home. It is with the second generation that we have to deal, the second and the third, the son of the i Sef eogpeg and the Maryland beauty and his children, When ‘‘ Lord Kenyon,” as the neighbors call- } ed the Englishman, died, he left his estates to f his son, Cyle Kenyon, and he, marrying a Balti- , more belle, retained the old bome, and settled down to a life ot enjoyment. The result of this union was two children, twins, and brother and sister. Their mother was of a studious nature, and did all she could to advance the education of her two beautiful children, for they were indeed | beautiful, while the father, a thorough sports- mau, in his turn had them instructed in all out- door amusements. The result was that the brother and sister ar- rived at their sixteenth year, thoroughly versed in books and sports, and while they could con- verse intelligently upon literary topics with re- fined people of their set, they could also give points on the needs of horses and dogs, and at fy the same time were noted as crack shots, daring cross-country riders, and as good sailors as were on the coast, for the grounds of Castle Kenyon ran down to the Chesapeake’s shores, and the beautiful bay was visible for miles from three points of observation on the piazzas, f . Keeping his hunters, his kennel of hounds and his yachts and row-boats, as he did, the twins ’ were able to learn as much out-doors in one way, as they could within doors from the extensive libraries. Mrs, Kenyon herself being a fine hcrsewoman, and devoted to yachting, did not object to her children following their bent, while so close was the companionship of brother and sister, that neither would act without the other either in study or pleasure. _ The result was that.Kate Kenyon wasas skill- ie ed in shooting, ey and sailing, as was her Pel: brother, King, while he also was an expert per- former on the harp and guitar, and at the same time sung and danced well. is So alike were the two, that when in their six- ral _teenth year, when they were wont to change at- co tire with’ each other, even their parents wers n deceived as to their identity, for in size and i bearing they resembled as much as in face, King’s hands and feet being but a trifle larger than his sister’s, To those that spoke of King as effeminate, it was shown that te could put to blush many at a masculine admirer with gun, ,» and on bea horseback, andas a sailor, and 1f her brother ex- og! celled her in‘anything it was in strength, for he wonderful power in his slightly made, graceful form. ; F So they were a well-matched, strange pair, and people wondered what would be the end, when those two were old eno to love, other a brother and sister, and would separate their ives. { Happy, careless and free, they knew no care, loved their parents, clung to ir home, and aa were. favorites with all who knew them, from rae the lowest slave on the plantation to the richest aes planter neighbor. i, But at last a cloud crossed the horizon of their sot oung lives, for their beautiful mother was «ae i taken fs a by oer ais a ae yecame shrou in deepest gloom when wife and mother was borne from the | t ome to &. resting place ‘over "on. the il + eo, = ra) 2 oe all, : ee = BS , 5 x) mI Ayaeaere | Jt his sorrow, Mr. Kenyon left the home with Ath Se eisiren to travel awhile, and ‘ea tion fell upon Castle Kenyon, — i, eee , a 4 * vr : Peat | That commander knows what CHAPTER II, MANNING THE LIFE-BOAT. A YEAR and more passed away, ere planter | when the wind came against the land witha Kenyon and his daughter returned to Castle Kenyon, for King had remained abroad to com- plete his studies. It was a gloomy, storm-threatening morning when the carriage drove up to the mansion with the father and daughter. Old servants had been notified, and had the home in readiness to welcome them, and a tempting dinner was soon served. Yot all seemed dreary and cold to thetwo travelers, and Castle Kenyon was not the abode of the olden time. Over in the little burying-ground lay the wife and mother, and far away across the sea, King, the son and brother, had been left, so that deso- lation seemed to reign supreme. There was no sunshine without doors, and all was shadow witbin. The dinner was hardly tasted, and then the father took his hat and walked out, and Kate knew well where bis steps would lead him—to the grave over on the hillside. Then Kate too left the house and strolled toward the cliff that overlooked the sea. The heavens were dark with clouds and grow- ing blacker rapidly, for a fearful storm was sweeping up the bay. ; There was little wind about the cliff,,or upon the bay near at hand, and a small schooner-of- war was trying to make some harborage before the coming of the storm. “She cannot make Mallard Cove, and with- out a pilot she can never enter our harbor, so she'll have to face it,” said Kate Kenyon, with the manner of one who had taken in the situa- tion at a glance. Below ber was a small cove, a few acres in size, with an earthen arm jutting out and heavi- ly wooded, which protected it from the sea. This was the castle harbor, but that it was difficult of entrance and exit, a glance from the cliff showed, for there were numerous shoals here and there that rendered the channel nar- row and crooked. In the cove were several sailboats, and alon the shore half a dozen skiffs and rowboats, al of which had been fitted up to be ready for use on the return of the master. ‘‘If I had come out half an hour before, I could have reached the schooner, and then pilot- ed her in when the storm struck her; but 1 could not do it now, though if brother King were only here we'd try it. ‘Father is over at mother’s grave, or I’d ask him, and—well, [ll have to give it up; but Pll run in and fit up for the storm, so as to see how the schooner stands it, for yonder tempest will be no child’s play.” Rapidly she walked away, and soon after re- turned to the cliff enveloped in a long storm- coat, and wearing an oil-skin tarpaulin which would protect her from the rain. The little schooner was now just. off the en- trance to the cove, about a mile distant, and barely moving along under the pressure of the light wind. The storm was now awful in its threatening aspect, and rushing up the bay at terrific speed. ‘ Poor little schooner! ye will have to fight hard for your life, for 1 never saw a worse storm,” said Kate. Then, an instant after, she impatiently added: ** Why does he not. luff sharp, while he has a breeze at all, and throw his bows into the teeth of the gale? “* What does her commander mean?” As she asked herself this question, the bows of the schooner slowly came around, and were thrown to meet the storm face to face. ** Ah! he knows what he is about after all. ‘“‘Now to see the result, and may Heaven reserve the gallant little craft!” and she raised her beautiful eyes upward, showing that she meant her words indeed as a prayer. ‘He has stripped her now to her:storm-sails, and he can do no more— Ah! there the storm is upon her! Oh, God!” tempest had indeed come down upon the little schooner, and with such force, such irre- sistible fury, that the snapping of spars and cracking of timber mingled with the savage roar of wind and wave, and brought from Kate Kenyon’s the appealing exclamation: ‘She is dismasted and will be driven ashore, unless he gets out his anchors, =| _ “But will they hold in the teeth of the tem- I see the crew letting go the anchors, Ab! the sea and y hides her from sight, and I must seek shelter.” a ; - ~ 2 - — LT — .once more stood near his wife—he alive; she — _Teturn, in She bounded back from the cliff to the shelter of a rustic arbor, and hardly had she reached it force that seemed to fairly shake it, The little arbor rocked to and fro, limbs were torn from trees and sent flying along like straws, while huge monarchs of the forest, which had battled with the tempests of half a century went down like wounded soldiers in battle before a mighty charge. The heavens were of ebony hue, the clouds ir driving along with frightful velocity, and the i sighing of the winds was appalling, while the a? | roar of the waves, hurled back from the shore, seemed like thunder, a Crouching in the arbor, her hands clasped to- - gether, the words of Kate Kenyon showed that it was not for herself that she feared, for over and over again she said: ““Heaven spare that little schooner and her 4 brave crew!” ‘ee Suddenly she started, for there came a sound : that she knew but too well. 1t was not the howling of the wind, the roar of the surf, nor the deep roll of thunder. Again it was heard, and then came the words from her lips that told the story: } ‘Tt is anappeal for help; the schooner is com- ing ashore! : : * But they shall not appeal in vain, for I will aid them !” Out of the arbor she bounded like a rocket, along the cliff down a steep pathway, and pant- ing with her rapid run, she drew up on the beach near a small boat-house built over the water, at the end of a smnall pier. Seizing a rope sbe pulled quickly, and, with the first stroke of a large bell in the tower of the boat-house, out came from its shelter half a dozen negroes, dressed in white duck and tar- paulins, , “Oh, missy, is it you, miss,” cried one. “Yes, Jaspar, and I wish you to man the life- boat at once.” / ‘‘ Missy, we came down here when we seen de storm comin’ up, and the schooner lyin’ off yonder, thinkin’ she might need help; but we hain’t never seen no blow like this, and dasn’t go out, missy.” ‘You must go, for I will go with you.” ‘* Oh, no, missy, it would be death to go!” ‘* Into the life-boat I command you! ‘*Quick! for while you hesitate, life is being ost. “Hark! do you not hear that appealing cry for aid? ; ‘¢ Into the boat, I say, and Igo with you!” Her commanding spirit broke down alloppo- sition, and the brave negro crew sprung into the’ life-boat, seized their oars, and when she shot out from under the shelter of the boat-house, - Kate Kenyon sat at the helm, her hands grasp- ing the tiller in a way that showed she knew - | what was before her, and her confidence in her powers to face all dangers. ; ae ot CHAPTER III. TO THE RESCUE. WHEN planter Cyle Kenyon left the castle, as the reader has seen, he wended his way through the park to the little hillside burying-ground. It was a third of a mile from the mansion, beautifully situated upon a sloping hillside, and | in the little walled-in space was every indication that the last resting-place of the dead was well _ cared for by loving hands. ee There were monument trees there, flowers of many kinds, a rustic seat, and a spring of ae nce wound its rippling way down the bill- side. There were three graves there, two together, and at their heads was one marble slab, bearing the name of Cyle Kenyon’s parents. aes - The third grave was unmarked by a monu- ment, but was one bed of violets. “ es, > To this grave did the planter wend his way, — and dropping into the rustic seat near by, he — buried his face in his hands, and thus sat fora _ long, long time. ‘ oe He had idolized his beautiful wife, and she had been the one love of his life. : eee She lay there in the grave at his feet,aad though he had wandered far in other lands, and mingled with the world, the gathering shades of twilight, wherever he had been, had brought — into his memory that lonely grave. = Now, after more than a year of roving, he dead, and forever lost to him. 70) _ Was it a wonder that in the moment of in being where he was, that he did n heed the mutterings of the storm that was ri: rapidly? ee “Fre seemed not to know that the Pee heavy any ab 2

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“were overcast, so deep in the shadow was his ‘boat. Swittly the storm arose, and yet he sat there in his grief. Then the fury of the tempest was upon the »scene, and it recalled him to himself, Instantly he looked about him, and sprung for shelter to a large oak near, whose spreading branches nearly covered the little burying- ground, Even that gigantic oak swayed in the violence of the gale, and fearing that harm might befall some one at the mansion, Cyle Kenyon determin- ed to face the storm and go thither. The wind stirred the violets fiercely with its breath, but beneath all was still, and the shock of no storm reached the one beneath the smound. With another glance at the grave the planter «started for the mansion, when suddenly the deep boom of a heavy gun came to his ears. ‘* A ship in distress, and firing for a pilot, or -aid; but not even my splendid crew of brave blacks would dare this tempest, though I should lead them. **T must hasten.” Sc saying, he walked on as rapidly as he could in the face of the gale, and upon reaching the mansion found all secure, except a window -shutter here and there, a panel of fence blown down, or a tree cabin The old castle had quivered under the shock, but stood firm. But a wailing sound came to his ears, and out -of the mansion darted several negroes, wringing their hands and crying. ‘* In Heaven’s name, what has happened?” the planter shouted. “Oh, master! master! Missy Kate hab gone out in de life-boat!” cried an old negress, who had been the nurse of Mrs, Kenyon and her chil- dren. ‘**Gone in the life-boat!” and the planter stag- ered as though he had been struck a violent low in the face. ‘*-Yas, master, she made the life-boat crew go with her, sah, out to de skunner in de offin’.” ‘‘Then they have gone to their death!” groan- ed the man, and he seemed momentarily stag- _gered beyond action. But suddenly he bounded away, and he was followed by a score of negroes, He knew it was useless to go to the shore, for there was no boat there that would live, where he expected the life-boat to go down. So he went to the cliff, to rivet his eyes upon his child, to see her bravely face fate and con- -quer it, or to die, to go down to death in the black waters. Reaching the cliff he stopped, his eyes blinded with tears, and at first he could not see, About him gathered the negroes, men, wo- “men and children, as they came up, panting with their run, blinded by the fierce wind, For a moment no one spoke a word, but eyes were rubbed fiercely, He the gaze of all was turned out upon the waters, which no one there had ever before seen so wild, and whitened with foam. “The skunner!” suddenly cried a negro boy, and he pointed out upon the waters, as a flash of fire was seen, and a gun vealed forth. “Yes, and she has had Mer topmasts blown out, her bowsprit is gone, and her bulwarks are «stove in; but, my God! where is the life-boat?” groaned the planter. “Dar she be!” yelled a negro urchin, whose bright eyes had sighted the life-boat, and a cry broke from every lip that ended-in a perfect ‘yell of joy, as the long black boat was descried just going out of the harbor channel and facing the fury of the gale, by dashing defiantly into its teeth, Like a hound bounding over a fence, it would crouch low, and then leap over a mighty wave, but the six black oarsmen met her at every bound with their oars, and tho brave girl at the tiller held her on her way. “Ha! my child is not there! thank God! and Heaven bless those brave fellows for the ficht with death they are making,” cried the planter, ““ Yes, master, she thar! that’s Missy Kate in the storm-coat and tarpaulin, sah, for [ seen her put ’em on,” said a negress. ) The planter groaned and again turned his eyes upon the life-boat, *“* Alas! it is my child, and she it is who has made the crew face this tempest. ; ‘My God! how that life-boat bounds! “* Ah! there goes another gun for succor; they ‘do not see the desperate chances a girl and six brave slaves are taking to save them from death,” , “They sees her now, master,” said a negro re) A Cabin Boy’s Luck. man, who hac been attentively regarding the schooner. ** Yes, they do! for hear that wild cheer., | 3 Nearer and nearer drew the life-boat, the girl’s hand holding her unerringly upon her course, though the waves dashed over her, and at times ‘‘ Brave fellows! succor is at hand, for God | tossed her about as though she would be thrown will not let yonder life-boat go down!” **One of the anchor cables has parted, mas- ter, for there’s none on the starboard bow, and there was a while since, and she seems to be sink- ing lower aud lower,” said the negro. ** Yes, she is doubtless leaking badly; but how many men are there on her, Bent?” **Y dunno, sah; I thinks about forty.” ** The life-boat will not hold half of them, and if she sinks before she can return for a second load, or her cable parts those on board are doomed,” **'Yas, sah, but they rt sah, and gettin she’ll stand.” ‘You are right, Bent, and that officer knows his business, for he feels, if the schooner can stand sail enough to steer her, she can run into the cove under a pilot. ‘* But little he knows that the one in that boat who can pilot him in is a young girl, a mere child.” ‘*Child in years, master, but not in sense, sah, for Missy Kate got more wisdom about boats than most dese Chesapeake sailors las,” said the old nurse, proudly. “True, Cilla, but then Miss Kate has not touched a helm for over a year.” “Makes no dif’runce, master, Missy Kate knows jist what she are about, and ef de Lord hab selected her ter save yonder skunner, she’s gwine ter do it sure, sah.” “God bless you, Cilla, for your cheering words,” fervently said the planter, and he riveted his gaze once more upon the life-boat, It was evident that the life-boat had all they could do, in those mad waters, to keep the boat’s head to the tempest, and at times it seemed to be driven backward, instead of making pro- eS, But the little hands grasping the tiller never swerved in the slightest mistako, and the white, brave face looking out from under the tarpaulin wore a look of resolution and pluck that ohacked the black faces looking into her Cwn for encour- agement, Had Kate Kenyon shown a loss of nerve, or made a mistake, the doom of the life-boat would follow quickly. Not a word was spoken, and only duty seemed to be the controlling feeling, in the hearts of the seven who were bravely facing death to go to the rescue of fellow-beings. CHAPTER IV. BY A WOMAN’S HAND, “ JASPAR, one of their anchor-cables has part- ed, and if the other parts, she is doomed; so pull for your lives!” It was the first word that Kate had uttered since leaving the boat-house, and she now saw that the schooner’s danger was doubly in- creased, The crew, with their backs to the- schooner, could not see or know how far she was off; but they nerved themselves to harder work, and re- lied upon their girl captain, not upon them- selves, “‘ That officer who commands is a true sailor, J aspar, for he is rigging another bowsprit in spite of the gale, and reefing the mainsail down to a mere ribbon, to try and get sail on her should the other cable part; but she’s sinking lower and lower, it seems to me,” ** Leaking badly, missy, I reckons,” answered Jaspar, “* Doubtless— to that cheer!” The wild cheering of the schooner’s crew seemed to nerve the life-boat oarsmen to harder work, and joy shone in their black faces as they felt how their courage was appreciated by those whom they went to rescue. Over waves, down into the trough of the sea, and cutting through foaming crests, the life- boat sped, straight for the schooner, Nearer and nearer she drew, and louder and louder grew the cries of the waiting crew. The sea was lashed into fury, the wind still rushed with relentless force over the waters, and the aspect of the heavens was appalling; but on sped the life-boat, and praying for her coming were the schooner’s crew. The appealing cry for help from the guns’ brazen throats had ceased, the bowsprit had been rigged, and all on board was ready for the coming of the life-boat; but the schooner was leaking badly, the pumps would not work, and it was a struggle between life and death for mastery, with the odds in the favor of death, is riggin’ a new bow- ready to set what sail Ah! they seé us at last. Hark keel upward. But the boat was well built and perfectly sea- worthy, and unless swamped or thrown over, Kate Kenyon had no fear of the result. She knew that her skill alone could prevent such a mishap, and that all depended upon her nerve. She had not been lately accustomed *to such scenes, such as she then found herself in, but yet she did not falter in the least degree, and her perilous course was watched with the greatest anxiety by her father and the negroes upon the cliff, and with terrible hope and suspense by those on the schooner, Nearer and nearer she drew to the vessel which now seemed to labor heavily, and soon a wild cheer broke from the crew, as the life-boat ran up under the stern of the schooner, and ropes were thrown and caught: Bravos filled the air for a moment, and then the schooner’s commander cried. ‘* Nobly done, lads! nobly done! but is there a ao among you, for I believe the schooner can run in to quiet water, beached and saved, for she is leaking badly.” **T will pilot her in, sir, and you can send the men not needed ‘on board back in the life-boat,” and aided by Jaspar, while she gave her hand to the young captain to aid her, Kate Kenyon sprung upon the schooner’s deck. ‘*A woman!” broke in surprised tones from the lips of the officer, and it was chorused by the men. ‘Yes, sir, if your vessel is saved, it will be by a woman’s hand; but act quickly, for you have no time to lose, from the way the schooner ap- pears to be settling,” and Kate sprung to the wheel. A half-score of men then hastily got into the life-boat, Jaspar taking the tiller, vile some of the schooner’s crew aided at the oars. ** Cut loose!” came: the order, and as the l‘fe- boat was borne away before the gale, there came a loud snap forward, and the schooner crouched low under the shock. “The other cable has parted! now set what sail you can!” cried Kate, and the men sprung to obey. A moment the schooner rolled fearfully in the trough of the sea, but the little sail that was soon set steadied her, her bows swung round, and away she flew before the gale with terrible speed. By the life-boat she drove, Kate Kenyon at the wheel, and the young captain aiding her. To turn into the channel leading into the cove harbor, Kate saw that she must jibe the main- sail to starboard, for she dared not lose time in going about in that wild sea, and with ,the schooner sinking as she was, It was risky indeed, for if the shock of jibing carried away the mast, or broke the boom, the schooner must go upon the shoals and be knock- to P gag he explained the situation hastily to the cap- tain, and then they nerved themselves to execute i At last the perilous moment came, the boom swung over to starboard with a force that was terrific, but, other than the shock the mast, boom and canyas held firm, and a cheer from the crew greeted the successful deed, On through the eapeeous channel sped the schooner, the sea tumbling about her in wildest confusion, and then into the cove she d 7 running in close under the lee of the heavily wooded point of land. ‘“‘T had better beach her in yonder creek, for she will not sink deep there, and at low tide you can get at the leak,” said Kate, pointing to a small brook that flowed into the cove. ‘“ As you please, lady, for you have shown yourself a captain,” said the young officer, try- ing to get a better look at the face that was al- most hidden by the tarpaulin, for Kate had tied the flaps down on each side with a silk sash she had taken from about her waist. Into the mouth of the brook the schooner acl and the anchor was let fall as scon as the <eel touched bottom. At the same moment a tall form bounded over the bulwarks, and clasping the maiden in arms, Cyle Kenyon, for it was he, cried in a voice that quivered: ‘My brave, my beautiful girl! ‘**- You have done a noble act this day; but oht how could you be so rash?” ‘Father, I felt that I could save ihe schooner, so took the risk,” she said modestly. ‘“« And save her you did, lady, and we owe cur

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lives, our vessel’s safety to the hand of a wo- man,” and the young captain bowed low, his hat in his hand. The rough storm coat that Kate had on, envel- oping her to the heels, the man’s tarpaulin, hid- ing her face, had caused him to believe her to be a fisherman’s daughter, some daring young maiden whose life was passed upon "the water. But the appearance of the refined and hand- some gentleman who called her his daughter, showed that he was mistaken. Then too he observed what had escaped his at- tention before, asmall, well-shaped boot beneath the storm-coat, and hands that were tiny, shape- ly, and covered with jewels. ‘*May I present myself as Carl Casandra, Captain of Revenue, under the Government, and commanding the schooner-of-war Vandal?” and Captain Casandra again bowed low. Kate put out ber hand in her frank way, and answered: “Tam glad to meet you, Captain Casandra, and to present to you my father, Mr. Cyle Ken- yon, a planter.” The two men grasped hands, and the planter said: ‘‘Captain Casandra, I too am glad to meet you, and to feel that T owe the pleasure to the courage of my daughter. “My home is yonder, sir, Castle Kenyon we call it, and I would like to claim you, and your officers, during your stay in my little harbor, for your vessel will need repairs that cannot be done in a day.” Gladly did Carl Casandra accept the invita- tion to become the guest of the planter, and promising to come up to the mansion, with a couple of his officers, as soon as they had seen to the welfare of their vessel, he saw the father and daughter cepart in tha life-boat, which now arrived in safety with her party. That eveninc, when the young officer beheld Kate Kenyon come into the parlor, where he sat achgge Oba the planter and his brother offi- cers, while awaiting for supper, her radiant beauty completely ed him, and before he went to sleep that night he registered a vow that Kate Kenyon should one day be his wife. Whether the vow was kept or not, the sequel will skow, CHAPTER V. HOPE. ‘CAPTAIN CASANDRA was a man of strik- ing appearance, for he had dignity of mien, added to a courtly manner, was tall, we!l- formed, and his face was cne to command at- tention at a glance. H> was young for the position he held, of cap- tain in the Revenue Service, but he worked hir way up by gallant acts, and his daring and good service caused some of his wild escapades to be overlooked by Government officials, when under different circumstances they would not have been tolerated. The result was that Captain Casandra, at the age of twenty-eight, found himself in command cf a fine schooner, and he was returning from a long and successful cruise against smugglers, when overtaken by the storm in Chesapeake ay. His schooner sadly needed refitting and over- hauling, and she would have gone in for repairs long before, only she could not be spared, so the result was that she leaked badly, and would have gone to the bottom but for the pluck of Kate Kenyon, — Captain Casandra and each one of his crew fully realized this, and where the latter looked with devoted admiration and gratitude upon the young girl, the gallant commander fell over head and heels in love with her, ; He did not hurry his workmen in patching u te schooner, so that days passed ere he set sa from the little harbor of Castle Kenyon. Ile had sent a junior officer on to make his re- rert to Governmert, and to have all in readi- ness for his vessel to go upon the stocks, and so he was content, ' The days he remained in Castle Kenyon haven - he passed with the beautiful Kate. hey rode together along the highways, stroll- ed togethcr around the forests, rowed or sailed upon the bay, and in fact it seemed as though the heart of the young girl had been won by the man whose life she had saved. At last the parting day came, and Kate had teken Captain Casandra over to see her mother’s ave, It was near the sunset hour, and the captain Tacit well the channel by tie'tate'phiot. taucht well the cl el by the fair pilot. ae ““You sey that Imoy come to see you again?” he asked in a low tone, as the two sat together }pon the rustic seat by the violet-covered grave. ' A Cabin Boy’s Luck. ‘Yes, I will be glad to see you, as I know father also will be,” was the response, ‘** Perhaps, Miss Kenyon, if we’had met under different circumstances, I would not have said for a long time what now I wish to say. ** You saved my life, you saved my crew and vessel, and you won my greatest gratitude and admiration. ‘“In the week that we have been together, you have grown into my heart never to be ef- | faced therefrom, and I can only say I will come again gladly, to see you, if I feel that I am not | coming merely to be led into deep sorrow by un- requited love. ** Bid me hope; it is all I ask, and I will come. ‘Can I come under those circumstances, with such a welcome word from you?” He did not touch her hand, but sat apart, speaking earnestly. * Come!” she said, in a low voice, and at the same moment she arose to go to the mansion. ‘*Miss Kenyon, one moment, please.” She paused, and still standing where he was when he called to her, he said; ““T would say to you that my life has not been all that it should be, for I lived fast and recklessly; but I had ambition only to urge me n. ** Now, with love to protect me, and ambition to urge me forward, my life shall be a changed one, and I will prove myself worthy of your con- fidence, and, may I say, love?” She held ‘out her hand with a smile, and he it wernly. : Then they started for the mansion, and two hours after the schooner set sail. It was a beautiful moonlight night, and planter Kenyon and Kate sailed in the schooner out to sea, the maiden, at the request of Carl Casandra, taking the wheel, while the little yacht with her negro crew followed in the ves- sel’s wake, A league at sea the schooner hove to, fare- wells were said, and the yacht put back to the haven, while the Vandal went on her way. ‘““How do you like Captain Casandra, Kate?” asked the planter, as the two were walking up the path to the mansion after landing from the yacht. ‘Father, I may as well be frank and tell you that I love him.” ** Ah, child! I feared as much.” “ Feared it, sir?” “Yes, for Carl Casandra does not impress me as being sincere.” ‘Sincere, father?” ‘““Yes, Kate, for I studied him well, when I saw that you were interested in him, and he in you. ‘He is wonderfully fascinating in manner, handsome, sings well, rides like a Centaur, and praia still, is a perfect searnan and without ear, ‘He has worked his way up well, and in war times would make a great name; but he is stern as adamant with his men, almost cruel, and holds no friendship with his officers, while I am sure that he is dissipated.” ‘* He told me he had lived a fast life, father, but said he would change his career if I bade him hope some day to gain my love.” ‘‘T hope he may; but your answer was—” ‘*T bade him come back to see me.” ‘‘ Well, Kate, your happiness is what I seek afid I pray he may prove worthy the wearing ot a gem SO priceless, ‘He loves you, that I saw, and I hope it may change him from what I feel now that he is. *“ Now, let us drop this subject, and await the tide of events, to see what will come of it all,” and the planter kissed his daughter good-night, and sought his own room; but there was a shadow upon his heart which he did not like to have there, for it was called up by a dread of unhappiness to his loved daughter. . CHAPTER VI. THE GAMBLER CAPTAIN. Upon his arrival in port, Captain Carl Casan- dra got his schooner laid up for repairs, and then sought rooms he was afterward to occupy, when he remained a few weeks in the harbor. The image of Kate Kenyon was constantly in his mind, and, as soon as he had gone to Wash- pe to make his report _in person, and then attend to some important business matters, he meant to return to Castle Kenyon for a couple oe Washi he went th ed ‘o Was mn he went then, and receiv the thanks of his superiors for his valuable ser- vices, after which he returned to Baltisn ore ;* | and settled himself down in bis rooms for a few, That night, while his successful capture of a ' yr band of smugglers upon the Virginia coast, was; the talk upon every lip, he wended his way to a, large gambling-saloon, and, recognized by the: doorkeeper, entered. It was a gorgeous place, and a large number of gamblers were there, and by many he was. cordially greeted. Straight to the roulette-table he went, nodded to the man in charge, and began to bet heavily. For’ awhile, as is so often the case, he won largely, and then the tide turned, and he risked all of his winnings upon one bet. He lost, and at once began to wager high. Bet after bet was lost, and the interest of all became centered in the playing of the young: RRgti pale, ‘yet. phackps a kul alm, pale, yet plucky, he still bet against: fate, and still lost heavily. ~~ ‘At last he paused and said: *‘ Benedict, you have won from me to-night. just ten thousand dollars of my money. “Will you cash my I. O. U. for an equal. sum?” “We will stake you for that sum, Captaim Casandra, if you wish to play,” was the answer, ‘*T do; here is the I. O. U., so give me a thou— sand to begin with,” The note was written, the money handed over,, pea once more did the young sea-captain begim 0 win. _ But once more luck changed, and in an hour’s: time he had not a dollar. ‘* Give me five thousand more, Benedict,” he said calmly. The money was given to him, upon the same- terms as before, and this too was lost. With a face that was very pale Car] Casan-- dra turned from the table, and walked out into- the street. For awhile he seemed to stroll listlessly about,, as though not knowing or caring whither he- went, Then he stopped, hesitated a moment, and next went hurrying along in the direction of the harbor. — At last he halted at a brick house, old and. depiiaed, and standing slightly apart from others, A yard ran down to the water’s edge, but it. was rank with weeds. A single light was visible, and knocking at the door, the window above was raised and a voice said: © ‘““Well, who are you, and what do yow want?” ‘Ho, Marks, it is the Vandal, so let me in.” “ Ah! Captain Casandra! I will be dowm in a minute,” and soon after the door was throwm open. , “Come in, captain,” said a tall man, with long black beard, who had opened the door. ie sailor entered, and the man barred the door, after which he took up his lantern and led. the way up a pair of rickety stairs. 7 _ Into a large room he turned, and it was bril- liantly lighted, comfortable, and with drawm curtains oyer the windows, A large table was near the fire-place, and up- on it were piles of gold, bank notes and rs, which the man had evidently been looking over when he heard Captain Casandra’s knock. ‘* Be seated, captain,” and Marks motioned to: an easy one near the table, and stepping to a sideboard brought out a decanter of brandy and glasses. : He was & man of powerful build, with lon black hair and beard, and his face, what features were visible, indicated cunning, and devilishness to a wonderful degree, rye “Well, Marks, you hold my paper, due soon, one A wish to renew it,” said the captain, luntly. ‘It will be due day after to-morrow, captain, and the sum total, with interest, is just twelve thousand five hundred dollars.” — P “Twenty-five hundred dollars being interest,” sneered the captain. “Yes, sir, for I have renewed for you five separate three months, making fifteen months — you have had the ten thousand, on interest. of five hundred per term.” ett cannot, sir.” “Cannot what?” ‘But FOU MRE “T must not, Captain Casandra.’ ) “Man, I lost at the gaming-table to-night thousand doflars given the Rd another, & plant- — c, but was not, and sol in lu "agate Rave my. helices Ses ood Sen oe Ne “Well, you must renew it, and give me some: © ok Sel. a i>, ony by ~ 2G h eth z. ote-F ey, at aoe ea » ieee Soe ay ia vi t “i es see yc: ec. * a - “5 » ie ¥ ah £ F a 4 "kA Be 8 = 42% Bs + a ‘, ae Ug ; ae , ioe ew > - Raion. 4 & a ‘ 1% I

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eee — A Cabin Boy’s Luck. thousand dollars to my name.” ‘This is not my fault, sir.” “Tt 1s, when you charge such a thieving in- terest, Marks.” ‘You have not yet paid the interest, cap- tain.” ‘* But I will do anything if you will help me out of this scrape.” ** Anything?” “Well, anything within reason.” **'You have just made a successful capture of smugglers, captain?” ‘* True,’ * : ** And your prize-money therefrom will be, say, now much?” ‘**Perhaps twenty thousand—perhaps less, certainly not more.” ** And the prize and goods?” “Are on their way here, under a prize crew.” ** When do you expect them?” * The smuggler vessels were disabled, so had to repair, and I left a lieutenant, midday, and twenty men to bring them into port as soon as ‘possible, while I took the prisoners to Norfolk in ay schooner. ‘** The two prize craft should be in by the end of this week.” “* How much are they worth?” * A hundred thousand, perhaps, for there are some very valuable goods.” “ And you get one-fifth of this?” ‘¢ Ves; my officers another fifth, and crew two- ‘fifths, and Government the balance.” “Captain Casandra, do you think that you have always acted as an officer and a gentle- man?” came the cool query. “ Marks! do you dare to insult me?’ and the yous sailor dropped his hand upon his sword- ilt. ‘No, but I have a motive for asking.” ‘Your motive then?” **To see what you are willing to do to extri- eeate yourself from this scrape, which your pas- sion for pa bins has gotten you into, and which looks very black for you, captain, in that you gambled away the money given you to de- posit by planter Cyle Kenyon.” CHAPTER VII. THE TEMPTATION. At the words of the man Marks, Carl Casan- dra sprung to his feet, his eyes flashing, and his face pallia. © Who told you that Cyle Kenyon gave me ‘that money to deposit, for I did not mention his name?” he hissed. ‘** Be calm, sir, and learn that one who leads ‘the life that I do, must keep his eyes open, and mine have been open some time. * ‘“‘Tt is no use for you to get into a rage, for it will do you no good. ** T will help you out of your tronble, if you do as I wish, for [ know that you hope to marry Miss Kenyon, who is a very rich heiress, and beautiful girl; but you must have money to ‘back you, for people think you are rich, and -you so led her father to believe.” ‘In Heaven’s name where did you get all of your information, Marks?” “Tt matters not, only I know whereof I speak, and, as I said, I desire to help you. ‘* 1 know that you have gambled heavily, and Tam aware of certain questionable actions on your part to raise money, while you have hushed up the fact that you had a sailor whipped to death, on one cruise, and shot to death yourself, another, on your last cruise; for very slight of- fenses. “You are a bad man at heart, Captain Casan- dra; but I ama bad man myself, and hence a fellow feeling makes me wondrous kind toward you, and I am going to help you out of your scrape, if you will let me,” Carl Casandra gazed at the man before him rfect dismay. ow he had discovered what had occurred on board of his vessel he could not tell, and more, how he should have known of his love for Kate Kenyon, and getting the money from Cyle Kenyon to deposit. He was, however, in a desperate place, for he owed large sums in Baltimore, and knew that they must be settled at once, not to speak of the money he had just lost at the gaming-table. Did he hope to marry Kate Kenyon, he must clear up his affairs, and thus stand out clean be- fore the world, no matter what was behind the curtain that he would wish to hide from view. So he turned to the strange man before him cand saad: ' “‘ Marks, you seem allied to Satan, to get the ‘in ty-five thousand, in addition to_other debts | information you do; but Iam in a desperate fix, there, that are pressing me, and I have not a | as you can see, and you must help me out.” ‘TI have my own terms, sir.” | “ Well?” ‘* Let us see what you owe.” “*T can give you a guess at it.” “‘T can give you the exact figures,” was the cool reply, and Marks took up a blank-book and continued: ‘““ At the Monument Tavern you owe twelve hundred dollars, and then to four different friends, whose names you know, one thousand each, gambling debts, “You have overdrawn from the paymaster three thousand, and you did not pay some Government bills with money given you, and there are twenty-seven hundred more. “Then one thousand will square up a host of little accounts, and added to the above, we have the twenty-five thousand you lost to-night, and the twelve thousand five hundred you owe me. ; ‘In all, Captain Carl Cassandra, you need just forty-nine thousand four hundred to save are supposed honor, and square you financial- ” ‘* Great God!” ‘*Yes, you are in a desperate position, sir; but I see a way out of it.” ‘* Well, do not keep me in suspense.” ‘¢ Where do you think you could find the prize you sent here?” ‘*On the way up the bay.” ‘**Tt is worth a hundred thousand dollars?” ‘Tf not more.” ‘“* How many in crew?” “Two officers und twenty men on the two ves- sels,” ** Schooners?” ‘*One small schooner, the other a sloop.” “* They will keep together?” *‘T so ordered, and to keep close in-shore, as the vessels were not in the best of condition.” “* Captain Casandra!” “¢ What?” ‘*T will furnish you a crew and a craft’ to go down the bay and capture those two vessels.” ‘Tn the devil’s name what do you mean?” ‘I mean that you must capture those vessels and then turn them over to a man I will send as next in command to you. ‘‘ When you show me his receipt that you have done so, I will cancel all of your debts, as you know them, and give you “reed twenty thou- sand dollars in cash for yourself.” ‘*Do you mean to say that ' am to go and take my own prize?” ‘ ~~ ** And turn it over to you?” “ Yes.” ‘And you are to give me, say, equal to seventy thousand dollars?” ‘*Yes. Iam to pay your debts and give you twenty thousand, for, if I trust you to pay them, you will not do it, and the result will be that you get into another snarl and fail to marry the fair lady you love.” ‘* Marks, you are a scoundrel.” ‘My dear Casandra, did I ever profess to be anything else?” ‘No; but you are far worse than I believed ou ** And you are just what I knew you to be. ‘“Come, there is no time to lose, so make up your mind quick, as the vessels must be taken ere they reach port, and more, you have got to pay your bills, ‘* Give out that you have gone to Washington for a few days, and return here just before dawn and your vessel and crew will be ready for you, while T’ll have a disguise for you that no one would ever recognize you in. ‘**Come, ruin stares you in the face, and you can escape but one way. ‘‘ Will you take that one way?” Carl Casandra sprung to his feet and paced to and fro in silence, His brow writhed under his mental suffering, and he bit his lips viciously. ‘¢T have no time to lose, sir, for I must order my vessel and crew for your work.” ‘<7 do not know what to say.” * Ah! you hesitate, so I decide for you. ‘Come, I will put my gold away and go out with you, as I have to get all ready, “Here, put this thousand dollars in your pocket, for you may need it, and return ‘here just as soon as you can.” * The man*did not seem to take a refusal into ’ consideration, and hastily putting away his money and papers, he took the arm of the young sailor and led the way from the room. He set the lantern down in the hall to light his rey back, and then the two went out and Marks locked the door after them, At the corner they paused. Carl Casandra had not spoken since they had left the room. Now he said: ‘* Marks, you have tempted me, and I have fallen. “Tt is now sink or swim with me, with the tide against me. ‘*T will be back at your house within. the hour, and then have your disguise ready, for I must not be known in this matter.” ‘Certainly not, for it would spoil all our little plans in the future should we need a little money. “‘T shall expect you,” and Marks walked rap- idly away in the direction of a swinging lamp on which was painted: ‘* SATLORS’ PARADISE.” CHAPTER VIII. THE COMPACT KEPT, SEVERAL days after the strange scene related, between the young captain of revenue and the mar Marks, Kate Kenyon was standing upon the cliff, from whence her father and the ne- groes had viewed ber gallant act in going ont to the schooner-of-war, when her attention was at- tracted to two small vessels standing slowly up the coast, for the wind was light. One was a schooner of fifty tons, the other a a of thirty, and they sailed near together. They were trim-looking craft, yet sailed as though deeply freighted, for they were not mak- ing as nce, out of the six-knot breeze as their appearance indicated they should, ‘rom gazing at these two vessels her eyes turned up the bay, and they lighted upon a small black schooner of thirty tons. She had the appearance of a Chesapeake Cetin and but half a dozen men were visi- le upon her decks, She carried, as did the other two vessels, the United States flag at her peak, and sailed mer- rily along, making far better speed than did the other craft out of the same wind, It was nearly sunset, and the shadow of the cliff already shaded the little harbor and shore, and. Kate noticed that the single vessel seemed desirous of speaking with the other two, as sue held on her way so as to cross their bows, when she could oeattier have gone far from them and made better time on her way. The sun soon set, twilight deepened into night, and the three vessels were not far apart, Suddenly, out of the darkness a light flashed, and a small gun was fired from the little schoon- er across the. bows of the other two, What could it mean? Attentively watching the three craft, Kate had not thought of return- ing to the house when darkness came on, and now she wished to Watch what could be the meaning of the little schooner’s action. The large schooner and the sloop now seemed to be alarmed, for they spread extra sail and went flying away from their suspicious compan- ion. But quickly the little schooner started in pur- suit, and in a very short while overhauled the sloop, running alongside of her. Then, to the ears of the maiden came the clash of steel and the flashes’ of firearms were visible. The shot had brought the planter to the cliff, and Kate hastily told him what she had seen while she added: ‘* Father, from the description given by Cap- tain Casandra of his two smuggler prizes, I am confident they were his vessels, while on their decks were sailors in uniform; but what was the other craft?” “Perhaps a smuggler attempting a rescue, my child; but see! the schooner has sailed on past the sloop, which follows in her wake, as though she had been capture. “Now to see if-she catches the large schooner.” } / “She will readily doit, sir, for see how sh gains. That little schooner is very fast, father.” ‘‘She is indeed; but there comes the moon and we will see all that occurs.” For half an hour the father and daughter stood watching the chase. The large schooner tried several different courses, in the endeavor to find some peint of sailing faster than her pursuer, but each time she saw that it was useless. Rapidly the pursuer gained on her, and before she had gone a league ran alongside, as she had the sloop. Avain followed flashes and rattle of firearms, and. then all was still once more, . Soon after the three vessels turned their prows toward port, and went along briskly under an increasing breeze,

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Beet a f we * See as oy a. oT Bis ‘e , Hy rao Rich ‘ » 2 A ue hs am, or, Aaa”) y Pe Sa ey fie oh Lo ee ’ eee ee -h What was the meaning of the strange pro- ceeding neither father or daughter could guess; but a week after the Norfolk packet hove to off the Castle Kenyon cove, and a boat put off for the shore. As it touched the beach a tall form sprung out, and a seaman followed with some baggage. Then the boat returned to the packet, and Jaspar, who had seen the landing approached the spot where the one who had been fet by the beat awaited him. “*Ho, Jaspar, I am glad to see you. ‘Here, shoulder my traps if you wish to see the color of a gold piece. * But how are all at the castle?” “Well, captain, all well, sah, and kinder ex- ting you, Missy Kate war.” “‘ Ah! it will be no surprise, then, to come as I do,” and Carl Casandra walked toward the mansion, followed by Jaspar. At the door he was met by both the planter and his daughter, and a warm welcome was ex- tended to him. And then from hislips they heard how, taking advantage of the Vandal being laid up for re- pairs, some daring pirates had boarded and cap- tured the two prize vessels he had taken from the smugglers, with all their booty on board. ‘Tt is rather a hard blow at me just now, asI have met with some other losses of late; but let me give you your certificate of deposit, Mr. Kenyon, for the ten thousand—there |” He handed over a paper, and the planter glanced at it. “This is for p aaog 4 thousand, Captain Casan- dra, and it was ten thousand dollars that I gave you. “Ah! Yes, I made a mistake in the certifi- cates, for that one is in my name, as you see, and here is yours,” and the right one was handed over by the cunning officer, who, as though without intention, had allowed Kate and her father to see that he had twenty thousand dol- lars to his credit, How he got that money the reader is aware, for he it was who successfully captured his two prizes when they were near port, and Marks had romptly carried out his contract with him, so t Carl Casandra was a free man, as far as his debts were concerned; but then he had laced a weight upon his conscience not easily hrown off, | f CHAPTER IX. DESPAIR. AFTER a visit of a couple of weeks, Carl Cas- andra left Castle Kenyon, with Kate his pro- mised bride. The “nyeripaah had tried to banish his suspicions against the young officer, for Carl Casandra cer- tainly appeared to be all that a young girl could wish for, a devoted and honorable husband, and he had given his consent to their engagement, with the promise that Kate should become his wife within a few months. Back to the city went the gambler captain, assured of his-prize, and in his joy he determin- ed to forget his promises made of reform, and once more try his luck at cards. He entered the same gambling saloon, a few hts after his return, and s at the gaming» table until he saw his twenty thousand dollars depart from him, and only left when he had given his I, O. U. for thirty thousand more, Almost desperate, he went to Marks on the following night. ‘Marks, you must help me out!” he said **¢-You shall!” “Don’t get disagreeable, Casandra, for I tell you y I do not see how I can help you.” - * You must find some way.” **T donot know any anal I only made, after the charter of vessel and pay of crew were coun- ted, with loss on some goods damaged, about five thousand on that prize transaction.” _ was enough.” “'You got the lion’s share.” oe deserved it, for I gave up my honor to do as 4 “You sold your honor cheap, Captain Casan- dra; but that is not the case in point.” “T wish money, I tell you,” sullenly said Cas- ‘a. - T can tell you how you can get it.” % How?’ “* When will your schooner be ready for sea?” “ To-morrow.” SE ite and ca e a prize, ‘put a prize crew on board, abiet I will ship for ** Well, go in her _ Let them brin~ her into port to me.” — nN, : 7 “But the oficers in charge?” A Cabin Boy’s Luck. “ Let them be put ashore at some point, and my man take charge.” ‘ They must not be harmed, Marks, for I did not like having to take life before.” ‘‘They resisted you like fools, so you could not help it, but now go to bed as soon as you can. ‘“‘T cannot, and owe this money.” ** T will pay that for you.” “ Ah!’ ** On conditions?” ** Well?” “That you give me your note, dated one month after you marry Miss Kenyon, for the amount.” ** Tl do it.” “‘ Then I'll write the note, and also a draft to your order, which you can indorse and I will send it to the gambling saloon for you.” ‘** T will take it.” “You will not, for it is my money.” ‘“‘Well, give ms a thousand to try me luck to- morrow night, and I will not go beyond it if I ‘Pll do it,” and the papers were drawn up and duly signed. ; he next night found Carl Casandra again in the gambling saloon, and he not only lost the thousand dollars, but far more, for the keeper had said to him: “‘ Your credit is gilt edge, captain, for all you need, for I received your draft this morning for the amount due.” ‘“T sail to-morrow, Benedict, and if I loe more, you will have to await my return to “ All right, sir, draw for what you need,” was the answer, and, with the temptation Carl Casandra obeyed, and soon owed twenty thou- sand dollars. He was about to ask another loan, when a familiar voice said: ““Come, Captain Casandra, come with me, for this will not do.” ‘Planter Kenyon!” gasped Carl Casandra. ‘*-Yes; but you seem nervous, and half ill, so come with me away from here. **T called at your rooms, and found you gone so at last traced you here, but am sorry did not arrive sooner. : “We came up to town on a shopping excur- sion and are at the Monument Tavern.” “‘ Miss Kenyon is with you?” gasped thesailor. “Oh, yes, so breakfast with us in the morning and meet her; but let me now say, Casandra, that I am surprised to find you such a reckless gambler. : “T was wrong, sir, very wrong; but I was tempted to play, yielded, and have a severe les- son in my losses, “T beg of you not to speak to Miss Kenyon of my wrong-doing, and I promise you I’ll not again err. The kind-hearted planter grasped the hand of ol es officer and the two part:d for the night. Goin on board his vezsel Carl Casandra gave orders that he would not sail for a couple of days, and when the schooner did sail, beautiful in her new paint and rig, the planter and his oes went as passengers down to their home on the Chesapeake, : The schooner lay all night in the little harbor, and then sailed on her mission. It was two’ months before she returned, and then Carl Casandra was almost d rate. ; He went to his rooms and found there await- ing him a number of letters. he first one bore an official stamp, and break- ing the seal his brow grew black as he saw that he was suspended from rank, service and pay for the term of one year, for conduct unbecom- ing an officer and a gentleman, in gambling away thousands of dollars with only the pay of a naval captain to live on, and a small sum he had gotten by prizes being taken. He was ordered to turn his vessel over to the officer next in rank, and not to report for duty until one year from date. _ Another letter was from planter Kenyon, and it broke off the engagement between Kate and himself, as it said: “My daughter shall never marry a gambler, such as you have proven yourself to be, and one whose temper has allowed him to take the life of his sea- men for slight offense.” Another letter was from Benedict the eee, peep ¢ an immediate settlement of his large claim, and the last was a missive addr in the hand of Kate Kenyon. ; 2 It admitted her love for him, forgave him his broken pledges, for much had come to her of his wrong-doings, and said that when he proved himself worthy of her, she could become his wife, for her father weet her age en morey than all else, and would forgive all when he knew that he was sincere. ‘‘T love her more than I do her money, and’ she shall be mine; but bah! she will soon know of my disgrace in the navy, and then she will de- spise me. ‘‘T will go and see Marks, make him give me» money, pay off my debts, go to Washington and show that I do not owe a dollar, and have been maligned, and then Kate shall be my wife, for the Government will pardon me, I know, andre- store me to my rank and duty. ‘‘ Now to see Marks, for all depends upon that rascal,” and leaving the room he walked rapid] toward the home of the strange individual whona he only knew as Marks. CHAPTER X. MARKS’S TERMS. A xnocx at the door, and his name, brought: Marks down, lantern in hand, and Carl Casan~ dra was soon seated in the same easy-chair where he had sat on a former occasion, and roven himself the tool of a greater villain than self, “Well, captain, back again?” said Marks, who: sat bi his table, as before, with gold and papers: on 10, ' “ Yes,” was the sullen reply. ‘What luck?” ** None.” > “That is bad.” ‘*For me, yes.” ‘*For both of ‘us.” ‘“T know I am driven to desperation.” ‘“‘ Never despair, captain.” ‘‘ Read that document,” and he handed over” the official communication regarding his punish-— ment. ' ‘This is bad.” “T should think so; but this is worse.” He handed over the letter of Cyle Kenyon. ‘* Ah! this looks bad!” *¢ And here.” It was the letter from Benedict the gambler. ‘*T did not know about this.” “No, for I drew that and lost it before IE sailed,” ‘“‘ After your promise to play only the thou- sand?” ‘* Curse you and your promises! ““T promised Kate Kenyon to reform, and I. have not done so, only have gone worse.” | ; “Well?” *‘T have a letter from her; but you shall not: Spats it with your villainous eyes, Marks, for- love her with all my soul, and she will marry me if all goes well” ‘‘ What do you call going well?” “Tf I reform.” ‘““ Why do you not do so?” **T intend to.” “When?” ‘* As soon as I have paid my debts.” ‘‘- Your reform is doubtless a long way off, for- as I understood you, you had not captured a ~ keel.” ‘ “Notone.” _ “Then how will you pay?” “T cannot.” ‘Then you cannot marry.” ‘You must pay all for me.” “ig 6 You have no claim upon me, Captain Cas~ ra. 4 “T know ‘hn to be the receiver of smuggled and piratical goods.” “ Ah! that is excellent; for you turned pi- rate, and now accuse me of buying the goods: you captured, “Well, this is good.” | ‘You are a villain, Marks.” “Calling me names, my dear not anger me in the least. “ But turn your eyes upon yourself, and let us iy see what you can do.” ‘“*T can do nothing.” “Do you give up?” ‘*No, I depend nm you.” i. “Well, I have a Hittle plan.” ae a: ‘*What is it?” ; Te SAR 2 “You cannot get your commission back so that must go.” . vu Se by “ Why?” ; A ; a y . “You can do nothing with Government, that: S is vagina ae sit gh and send in your resigna~ | tion, a e same time pikes your Inno- cence, and asking that an examination might be _ made into your affairs.” = = © : ‘* And find out all?” King in “Th 7 Le “Oh! I’m all ears,” ae esenib “This will give you the sympathy of : se) tees t Casandra, does’ ¥ #K¢ , ec Fate cata siaed 59> at eS < .

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; } : { / Naval Secretary, and you can thus leave the service on your resignation, “Then you must disappear wholly, giving out that you are going far ‘away, to invest your little savings.” “*T do not see what you are heading for.” ** You will soon discover. You must pay your gambling-debts and all, leave here with a clean record, and when next you come back, come back with flying colors,” ‘* How can I?” “There is war threatening with England, and though it may be a year before it breaks out, it must come eventually, and, as captain of a srivateer, you can get reinstated in the navy, on’t you see?” ‘* How can I get a privateer?” “Get a vessel now, and you will have her for use when the time comes.” **T am all in the dark, Marks, as to what you are about.” “Well, to explain, for you know very plainly my hints about it, I will furnish you with an armed vessel and crew within ten days, and you can put to sea in her.” ‘* What for?” * Asa cruiser.” ‘¢ But there is no war.” ai: “True, but you must make a living in the mean time, and I will give you the means,” “To turn pirate?” * Exactly.” “Marks, I do not know what to make of you.” ‘ “Do you remember the night I saved your life, when three deserters from your vessel had you at their mercy, and intended killing you?” ‘¢-You know that I cannot forget it.” ‘Well, Casandra, I told you then that I was a man no one could fathom, and you have not yet found me out. ** Let me tell you that I was born in poverty, but swore to be rich, ‘*T was well born, and my name was all I in- herited. “I drifted about, and at last struck the wake of that which would lead me to fortune, ‘*T am now a rich man, a very rich man, and I have-made it all by selling smuggled and pirated goods. “Tletno man know me as I am, excepting you of course, and no man’slife has been allowed to stand between me and my ends, and no life ever shall. ‘* This is all you need to know of me. ** Now I have watched you closely, and have seen just what you were coming to, so I have proven my friendship by preparing for it. “T have had built a superb schooner, armed and equipped her fully, and she has a crew of seventy good men. ** Now, I want you to take her and put to sea in her, ““Wear the disguise I gave you before, in your piratical capture of your prizes, and take command, ‘She is mine, as I tell you, and the other offi- cers and crew are to have forty per cent, of your earnings, ten per cent. are to go for expenses, and the balance we can equally divide between us, and this will make all things even, and you should make an independent fortune in a year.” Carl Casandra was thunderstruck, and knew not what to say. had a long time he sat in silence, and then said: “But Kate Kenyon will forget me, if I re- main a year away.” “Oh no, for you can write her that you go West, and I will send a letter out there for you now an‘ then, and have it mailed to her, so as to keep up the idea, ‘‘ When war breaks out you go to Castle Ken- on in a schooner, which you tell her you have Pought and fitted out from your ventures out West, and shé will readily become your wife. ** As you will have no debts, and nothing be against you, and you resign, she can but believe you all that her fancy has painted you. “Now, I pay your debts, if you take com- mand of this schooner, and I will dispose of all the booty you éapture, and tell you just where to send it and how. ee ‘* What do you say, sir? ¥ **T know not what to say. ; ** You know what will follow if you donot ac- cept my terms.” ‘T am ruined.” “True, and more, you will be arrested b Benedict and others, and then Kate Kenyon a forever lost to yous but in following out my schemes, you win fortune, and in the end fame, when the war comes, for you turn your pirate eraft into an honest privateer.” A Cabin Boy’s ucx. 7 “Tt is a fearful temptation, Marks.” ‘Then you consent?” “ Yes.” *“*Knough! ten nights from this you sail in the schooner Spit-fire, and, as Captain Carl the Corsair no one will know you, for the West In- dian waters, must be your haunts for there are the richly freighted ships under all flags. **T congratulate you, Captain Carl the Cor- sair, and wish you every success,” and Marks arose and b wend with mock gravity and respect while Carl Casandra hands and groaned: ‘“Great God! I am lost! and my own acts have encompassed my utter ruin.” buried his face in his CHAPTER XI. A VISITOR AT CASTLE. KENYON, It was a bitter blow to Kate Kenyon when it became known to her that her lover had broken his pledges to her. She had received several anonymous commu- nications, telling her of his evil doings and at last had gone to her father with them. He had then told her what he had seen, and going up to Baltimore had satisfied himself that Carl Casandra was in every way unworthy of his daughter. : So he had returned and told her so, and then each wrote to the young captain the letters which he had received upon his return from his eruise. Soon after it became known, in the same mys- terious way, that Carl Casandra had resigned, to save himself from dismissal from the service, and that he had gone to some western State. It stated, however, that he had paid his debts, yet hinted that to do so he must have had a suc- cessful night at gambling. The next mail Kate received a letter from Carl himself. It was dated away out in St. Louis, and told her he had come there to make his fortune, had | invested his little savings, and would return to claim her some day, when he could prove to her he had reformed his life. Kate was delighted, yet in her heart there was a doubt which she could not castaway from her; but she determined to wait for a certain length of time which Carl Casandra had asked and then, if he was not a different man to cas him out of her heart forever. Several days after this a visitor arrived at Castle Kenyon, He came in his private carriage, with slaves in livery, and the planter being away from home Kate gave him welcome. He introduced himself as Merton Regnier; a South Carolina planter, and an old college chum of her father. Kate had heard her father speak of his early boyhood friends often, yet never remembered the name of Merton Regnier as being among them; but she received, the gentleman cordially, and found him to be ‘a most charming com- panion. He was very distinguished-looking, conversed pleasantly upon all topics, and said he was traveling North for pleasure, and had concluded to stop over a night with his old friend, Cyle Kenyon. Kate was not in the parlor when the planter entered, a servant having told him that a visi- tor had arrived. ‘““My dear Cyle, how are you?’ cried the stranger, arising. ‘Merton Regnier! Good God!” Like a statue stood the planter, not even taking the erica hand of the visitor, who said pleas- antly: “You remember me then, Kenyon, in spite of the score of years passed since last we met?” ‘Yes, I remember you; but I deemed you dead,” and the planter seemed deeply moved by some bygone memory. ‘No, Lam not dead, Cyle, as you see, and be- ing on my way North I stopped over to see you, for I have kept track of you. ** As to the past, so bitter to you, let that pass, and let us be friends again.” ‘You forgive then, and are willing to for- get?” asked the planter in a low tone. ‘¢- Yes, so let the matter drop,” ey And you will not speak of—” ‘No, no, it is with the buried past, and no one shall know; but what a lovely daughter you have.’ ‘You have seen her?” and the planter turned allid. ary Oh, yes, and had a most charming chat with her. ‘¢ She left the parlor but a short while ago, to see about some household matters, ‘You did not tell—” ‘No, no, no! don’t fret yourself, Cyle, for all is well between us, and I bury all ili feelings in the past. ‘‘T was a poor boy in those days, but now . am a very wealthy man, I assure you, and ! he to have you visit my home some time.” The planter’s manner now changed, and ~«.« held forth his hand in welcome to his guest. Soon after Kate came in, and she saw that her father and the stranger had indeed been old friends, for they chatted over college days to- gether in a most pleasant way. Merton Regnier was a few years the junior of Cyle Kenyon, for he had scarcely lived beyond forty years, and wus certainly a well-preserved man, While the gray was beginning to show up- on the temples of the planter, and he looked like one who dwelt in memory with the past, when left to his own thoughts. For more than a week did Merton Regnier re- main at Castle Kenyon, and then he took his departure, promising to stop on his return South for a short while. As for Kate, she did not know whether she liked the man or not, He was always courtly, and certainly most entertaining upon all subjects. on which their conversation turned. He seemed to‘have read everything; he knew how to handle a_ boat with skill, and in a tramp for game would bring back a full string. He was a good musician, sketched with skill and taste, and painted her several views, one of the little burying-ground on the hillside, In an indifferent way he let it ba known that he was very wealthy and had no family ties, while he added: ‘*T guess, for the sake of old times, Miss Kate, I will have to make you my heiress.” After his departure Kate could not get him out of her mind. He seemed to fairly haunt her memory, and she felt the influence of his large dark eyes. ‘Had I never known Carl, t believe I might have loved that man; but no, I do not think it is love I feel for him, and yet he seems to im- press me in a way I cannot understand.” So she said, and when Merton Regnier return- ed on his way South, she was both glad andsorry to see him, He brought the latest tidings in news, and the papers were full of a daring buccaneer that was a scourge tipon the Mexican Gulf. ** His name is Carl the Corsair,” said Merton Regnier, and planter Kenyon remarked with a smile: ‘*Carl the Corsair; yes I have heard much of him of late.” ‘“‘He has the same name of your old lover, Kate; but he certainly cannot have turned pirate,” “Father, I received a letter from ig bers Casandra two weeks ago, as you know, dated from St. Louis, and besides, he is not one to turn pirate, no matter what excuse he might have to drive him to such an act.” ‘*T was but joking, Kate; but this corsair seems to be a terror, Merton, from all accounts in these papers you brought with you.” “Yes, he has a score of war-vessels in chase of him, and I only hope he will be taken and hanged,” Whether it was the name that drew Kate to- ward the corsair, or not, I cannot say; but cer- tan it is she read all of the accounts of the daring sea rover before she went to sleep that night; and when she dreamed it was that Carl Casandra was the buccaneer chief and he came and carried her off to make her his bride. For a long time did Merton Regnier remain visiting Castle Kenyon, and ere he departed, he had asked Kate to become his wife, and her father for her hand. Kate had refused him, telling him frankly that she was engaged to Carl Casandra. ‘¢ But should he not return?” ‘* 7 will make no promises, Mr. Regnier,” was the firm pempote, “The girl must be urged to it by her father, and so I must see him,” and Merton Regnier walked out toward the cliff where he had seen Mr. Kenyon going a short while before, There he found him, and a glance told him that the planter wore a troubled look. CHAPTER XII, THE PLANTER’S REMORSE, ‘*Cyir, my friend, I have sought you here to have a talk with you,” said Merton Regnier, as he walked up to his friend, the planter, where he stood upon the cliff, “I know what you would say, Merton,” sud- denly remarked the planter,

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é 4 [ 1 iy f ( hi f t a I . \" I hd by V4 i: i " . be a ° * ' then, you are double the age of my child, and _it and stayed late. “cc Ah hd *¢ Yes, I know all.” ‘© What would I say?” , **'You would tell me that you love my child.” “¢ True,” ** And ask her hand of me ” “ec Yes.” “‘Thave seen this coming for days, Requier and [ could do nothing; but now I must speak.” Well?” ‘**T could never consent.” _. Miss Kenyon will marry me, I feel assured, if you consent, as soon as she has found out how worthless a fellow her lover is.” “What know you of him?” quickly asked the planter. ‘“*T know him, and that he lives in St. Louis, ““T have been there since I left here, three months ago, and I know all about him. ‘He pretends to be living an honest life, but he is gambling, and that is his only means of support, while he is very dissipated. ‘I knew kim as a boy, and I met him in St. Louis, and he told me of his love for your daugh- ter and of his misfortunes. “‘He did not, of course, know that I even know you; but he said that he was making some money by gambling, and would come some day to claim his lady-love, and after she became his wife he would reform. ** Now, you know, he should reform /irst, or he never will. “T have not told your daughter this, but leave it for you to do, only do not tell her where you got your information.” “Twill not; and I thank you, Regnier; but she certainly does not love you.” ** No, her first love is for that wretch Casan- dra, and I will have to win her love after she has cast him out of her heart. ‘* Now promise me to say and do all you can in my behalf.” - ‘¢T cannot.” 6c Why 9) “Well, I do not wish my child to marry you.” / ‘* Bah!” “She is young, beautiful, rich, and she will get over her love for this unworthy object, and marry sorne noble young fellow yet.” “*T Jove her with all my soul, Kenyon, and wish to marry her.” ‘*No; I will tell her of Casandra, and then take her to England again, remaining there un- til her brother completes his education at the ‘* No, you must give her to me.” “T will not.” tia ag Kenyon, let me recall the past to ‘No, no! donot do that!” ** We were chums together: you a senior, I a freshman, at college. ‘You were rich and lived in luxury, while I, a poor parson’s son, was a pauper, and was giv- en my tuition, “My father died, and my sister—an adopted sister, but one I loved as though she were my kin—came to live in my little home. “You remember our home, two small bed- rooms, and one large sitting-room and kitchen combined, ‘* My sister—for [ knew no other love for her —was content, but I was wretched, because I was poor, ‘You remember her, Cyle, with her great black eyes and lovely face? ** Poor Ruth! I often recall her—” : ‘For God’s sake, Regnier, do not say more,” ay groaned the planter. ‘*T must have my say, Cyle. ** One day you saw my sister, and you at once wished to know her, ‘“*T took you to tea one evening. “Tt was an humble supper, but you enjoyed “You were the same age as my sister, while I pre and hardly understood what you 8) . ‘“‘ After that you came often, and one night you visited our little room in company with a friend. “You had been drinking deeply, and you urged Ruth to go with you to be married, that very night. | P ‘*T was ambitious then, Cyle, and I urged her too, and she consented, for she loved you devot- edly, ' Thus you were married; but when you be- came you cursed your act and you hated my sister and myself. . ‘Poor Ruth, she depa: from our little home, and she went off to get work elsewhere, . $3595 99099999 y Bee abin Boy’s Luck. far from you, for she had pride, Kenyon, and she showed it. ‘* But she had loved too deeply, and alas! she never got over the shock of finding that she would not have been your choice.” “*My dear Regnier, I well know what she suf- fered through me, and how ycu too must have suffered for her. “But I have suffered bitter remorse for my act, and long after your letter telling me that she had gone from this life in despair, I lay ill, expected to die by all, * But I recovered, and my wild life was given up, and I have since then been aman; but never can I forget my crime in deserting that poor loving girl, as I did, and I feel that Lam guilty, as having caused her death.” ‘* Kenyon, let me tell you again, that I love your daughter, and I wish you to urge her to be my-wife, . “*T beg it of you, and yet tell you frankly that be would not like this act of yours in the past knowny.” ‘* For God’s sake, no!” ‘* And more, Kenyon, I did not write you the exact truth in saying that Ruth had gone from this life in despair. ““T meant to convey the idea that she had died, when really she had given up the world for a convent.” Cyle Kenyon staggered backward, and but for a tree near, would have gone over the cliff to his death. : Springing to his side, Merton Regnier grasped his arm, and said: “My God, man, arouse yourself!” ‘**Ts she dead or not?” ‘No; she lives in a convent.” ** And [have since married, believing her dead. ** Oh, God! oh, God! have mercy!” ‘* Kenyon, no one knows this secret but I, for all believe Ruth to be dead, as she so determined that they should. ‘* This secret I will keep; but I beg of you, ** And you will urge her to accept me?” **T will not say one word but in your favor.” “Thank you, Kenyon.” And the two men walked back together from the cliff. That night the mail came, and in it was a letter from Kate’s cena Lr correspondent, telling her of the deeds of Carl Casandra in the West, and a St. Louis paper with a notice in it that the gambler, Carl Casandra, had won a large sum of money from a planter, who had paar him in a frenzy, and met his death at the hands of the gambler, “He is indeed unworthy of my love, and I will tear his ee from my heart, and to help me do so, I will pledge myself to Merton Reg- nier,” said Kate. And the next day the South Carolinian de- parted with Kate’s pledge to become his wife. CHAPTER XIIT. THE MEETING ON THE CLIFF. Ir seemed strange, very strange, to Kate Ken- yon that the past two years had made such a change in her life. ‘ ‘With her brother at home, and her mother living, she had been as free as a bird, with only thought for enjoyment and to pass her merry life away. But death stalked into the household, and it took her loved mother, and the first grief of her life fell ie the young Js = Abroad they went, the father and his two ee pga and the dear old home was left de- serted. Traveling in foreign lands, Kate Kenyon had are up her hoydenish life and become a dig- ed young lady. Then came the parting with her brother, the return to the desolate home, and next the fear- ful tempest that had brought back the courage of yore to her, and made her do the bravest deed of her life. Out of that act love had sprung, and then the one she had given her heart to was found to be unworthy. | Next, a man, her father’s As Caen companion, came and offered his love, and burying the bitter past in the inmost depths of her heart, she had promised to wed this strange, fascinating man, who was old enough to be her father. How all had changed for her, and for the worst. Such were her thoughts one evening as she sat sneer - ee ee upon the cliff enjoying the sunset view, and ob- serving the movements of a small schooner-of- war that lay becalmed hardly a mile off-shore. She had gazed with admiration upen the sym- metry of the vessel, and noted that every rope and spar was in its place, and that the craft seemed to be held under thorough discipline. Long-hulled, lying low in the sea, narrow and without doubt very deep, she looked like an ocean racer, for her tall masts and long spars showed that she could spread an immense amount of canvas. : As darkness came on the striking of eight bells was borne across the waters to the ear of the maiden, and then a light glimmered hereand there about the vessel. Her father was away, and would not return until late, and as the moon was just rising ou of the blue waters of the bay, Kate would not return to the mansion, She felt very blue, and the shadow upon her life she could not shake off. She was dressed in pure white. and among the trees upon the cliff, as the rising moon cast its rays upon her, she looked like a ghost standing there in the weird light. After pacing to and fro, the impulse of her thoughts moving her toaction, she threw herself upon a rustic seat and for a long time remained motionless. At last her thoughts found vent in words that seemed to rise from her lips like a wail. **Oh, Carl! Carl! where are you this night and why were you false to your vows when | love you so dearty?” “¢ Kate ?” Tn an instant she was upon her feet, her form trembling with emotion. : ‘‘Oh Heaven have mercy, can he be dead, and was my name, spoken by his lips, one of those strange warnings that sometimes come to us?” she said in a hoarse whisper. ‘“No, Kate, I am not dead, though without your love I would rather be.” She gave a glad cry and sprung toward the ~ tall form that stepped out into the moonlight from the shadow of the trees. “Carl! Carl! it is indeed you?” “Yes, my beautiful Kate,” he cried, and he would have folded her to his heart, but she drew back quickly, and said haughtily: “Captain Casandra, between your life and. mine a great barrier has been set, and we meet as strangers.” ** No, no, Kate, you cannot cast me off so, for I heard your words awhile since, and I know that you love me; but why is it you cast me off now?” ‘You broke your pledges to me and went to the bad; for I‘had no influence oyer you.’ “An, Kate, misfortune overtook me, and I went away to earn a fortune to return and lay it at your feet. ‘“‘ Thave heen successful beyond my brightest anticipations, and I come now to claim you.” “ Car] Casandra the fortune you have won you have gotten at the gaming-table, and I would rather die than have you offer me gold thus gotten. , ; “Tt would be on a par with love that was false.” ‘“‘Kate, you bitterly wrong me, for I have not touched a card in long months, nor have I won one dollar in gains. ‘‘ How I have made my money you shall some day know, but not now, “T know that your father has cast me off,and . that I have few friends now; but I deemed you true, and I came to tell you that I love you more dearly than ever, and ask you to be ready to fly with me far from here.” Ae. “{ would not fly from my home, Cart; to be- come your wife, but marry you here, form father would give his consent if you prov your words, just spoken to me, to be true. ‘¢Oh, Carl! prove to father that, you <a : what men say you are, and all will be well **T will prove it.” “And soon, Carl, for before very long I am pledged to marry another. “Nay, do no frown so and bite your lips, for . I do not love him.” . ; “‘ Who is he?” hoarsely said Carl Casandra, “An old boyhood friend of my father, a South Carolina planter, and a most excellent man, ; *« Believing you were false to your love, when false to yourself, I did as fa- ed to Mr. Merton ~ I heard you were ther asked and became engag Regnier.” f ‘Ts Merton Regnier his name?” tes “c VY ” “ T shall not forget it; but where did you say that he lived?” | ee. ‘ ' ' - pga <ieltppiaetae re ; « ee ot A. = FE ~ 7 oe ae RP, aes t Ts ior 2 aly

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- “Was assure — A Cabin Boy’s Luck. * On the South Carolina coast, somewhere near ‘Charleston, I believe.” ; ‘‘ Well, Kate, I, not Merton Regnier, shall claim you, for I would rather see you dead than the wife of another man.” “‘T believe, now that I see you, Carl, I would rather die than marry any one else, for I even forgive you your broken pledges; but, Carl, how did you come here?’ ‘Yet, I saw him give his due bill for twenty | ‘* Do you see yonder vessel?” thousand, and what was more, it was paid, for Benedict the gambler told me so.” ‘* Father, if he would give you. proof that he was keeping his pledge to me, would you let me marry him?” ‘* Kate, are you mad?” ** No, sir.” ‘“Why, within a few days you are to marry Merton Regnier, and you are talking of this scapegoat Casandra.” “Will you answer my question, father?” “What is it?” “Would you, with proof of his innocence, “Yes, and I was watching her for a long time.” “She brought me here.” “‘ What! are you again in the navy?” ‘““No; but I have a dear friend in the com- mander of yonder schooner, and he brought me here. ‘7 saw you seated on this cliff, and watched you for a long time with my glass. _ *¢ Assoon asit grew dark I sprunginto the cap- tain’s gig and came ashore to see you, and [ would have done so, had I had to boldly face your father’s anger.” “Tam so glad you have come; but when will you return to prove that your words are true, and that you are not guilty of the things I have read and heard about you?” : ‘‘ When are you to be married to this southern planter?” ‘“¢ Two months from to-day.” ‘¢ Then I will be here a week before that time and I will come to this spot every night until i J meet you here.” out into the garden, saying quietly: ‘¢Y will count the hours, Carl, and pray that “This looks very much as though I would you may bring the proof that you have been | have to elope with Carl, for father will never cruelly maligned.” give his consent. ‘Trust me, Kate, and remember, one week ‘*Poor, dear, Carl! I do hope he can prove before the day set before your marriage, I will | all that he has told me, for then I will be hap- be here on this spot.” py indeed.” “J will bring you the proof, and let youshow | The next day Merton Regnier arrived at the them to your father, castle. “Tf he still refuses to let you become my wife, He came with quite a retinue of servants and wishes to force you into a marriage with | and horses, and looked like a prince traveling Merton Regnier, then I will claim you, and if | through the land. you love me you will fly with me.” He was pleasantly greeted by the planter, ‘*Should my father attempt to urge this other | though that same faraway look came back in- marriage upon me, Carl, efter I am convinced | to the face of Cyle Kenyon, which seemed of your innocence, then I will go with you | ever to dwell there when Merton Regnier was wherever you wish.” near. ‘You swear this, Kate Kenyon?” Perhaps it was the remembrance his pre- “JT do, though my word is as good as my | sence revived of poor Ruth, the adopted sister oath.” . of the man who had now come to marry the “¢ Rnough-—-I believe you.” daughter of his university2chum of twenty-five “Yes, Carl, prove your innocence, and I will | years before. give up all for you.” Kate felt a slight shudder at sight of the man “‘T will prove it, Kate; but now I must go,” | she had promised tomarry; but she greeted him and after a fond farewell the young sailor de- | kindly, drew away when he would have kissed parted. her, and, as soon as supper was over, excused Kate watched him descend the pathway to the | herself, on the plea of a headache, and left the shore, saw a dark object she knew to be his boat | gentlemen together, out over the waters, which were now rip- But Kate did not go to her room, but slipped pled by a breeze which had sprung up with the | out into the flower-garden and wended her way rising moon, and soon after beheld the pretty | to the cliff. schooner-of-war spread her white wings and She started as she got there, as a form came glide swiftly away. toward her, Even in the darkness she recognized that ele- CHAPTER XIV. gant, commanding figure, and sprung toward THE APPOINTMENT. him SLOWLY dragged the daysaway to Kate Ken- yon, after she had met her lover upon the cliff. The memory of Merton Regnier became al- most distasteful to her when she compared him with Carl Casandra, and she had no doubt but that the young sailor could clear his character of ‘You shall know all, Kate.” the tarnish upon it. — “But the proofs?” True, she had received anonymous letters re- | ‘‘ Of my innocence?” garding him. She had read the notice in the ‘Yes. papers regarding his killing a man overa game | ‘‘I have only my word, my love for you, and of cards, and her father had told her how a | if you cannot believe me, Kate, I will banish friend of his, whose name he would not make | myself from your presence. known, had seen the young sailor in St. Louis, ‘*Come with me, Kate, and see if I do not and knew him to be all that was bad. prove my love in every way. “J believe him true, for he says so,” was her “T° have a vessel not far away; you cannot argument, and she did not doubt but that he | see her from here, and I am her commander, for could prove what he said. that much I confess to you.” One day, « short while before Merton Regnier “Oh, Car]! was expected at Castle Kenyon, Kate said to her “‘More I cannot say.” father: ‘*She is a vessel -of-war?” “Do you believe, father, that Captain Casan- “Yes, Kate, well armed and equipped, the dra was as bad as people made him out?” same pretty schooner that you saw here two “T feel convinced, Kate, that he is eyen | months ago and admired so.’ Carl Casandra?” © can bring no proof.” ‘* But were he to do so?” ‘‘He can give no proof that I would accept.” “Then you wish me to marry Merton Reg- nier?” ‘Yes, although I would rather far that you had decided upon some one else.” ‘“* Tt is not too late.” “Tt is, for the day is set, and you must mar. y Regnier.” ** And Carl?” ‘“ What mean you?” ** You would not receive him?’ ‘‘ Never! for I know more of his life, Kate, than I have made known to you.” Kate sighed, and taking her sun hat walked marr “ “6 Oh, Carl! youare here?” . on 1 have been here since just after night- all, “But you are in uniform; you are surely back in the navy?” worse,” «You said your friend had—” ‘Father, I believe that be has been bitterly ‘True, my friend is myself. raali ” “ 1] 1) maligned, T am her commander. Kate, it seems strange that you should say so, after all that you have heard. “‘ As for others, I know not the truth except as they tell the story; but for myself, Isaw him gambling, as you know, and he had lost an im- ae wae drinking heavily and gambli ‘He w i eavily an ‘ ing recklessly, and, when I was oi Washington I that he had only his pay and a few thousand dollars prize money. «Then, Carl, why have you not captured that horrid pirate they say is at the entrance to the Chesapeake, doing so much damage to our ship- Inge: “i Vou mean my namesake, Carl] the Corsair, as they call him?” ; _ “Yes, and I start at his very name, although it is the same as yours.” ‘**T will meet him some time, Kate; but now tell me what your father says?” allow me to break with Merton Regnier, and | —————————E— 9 ‘* He will not believe other than that you are guilty, and says no proof will satisfy him.” ** And this Merton Regnier?” “He arrived to-day.” ; | And you intend to become his wife?” ‘Father expects me to; but, Carl, I thought you were out in St. Louis?” “T was, for awhile, Kate.” “Let me tell you that I found out to-night that Mr. Regnier saw you there.” ‘* He saw me ?” “Yes, for he knows you well; and he it was who told father how Wk pe you were, and | how — you gambled, while he gave me the paper that spoke of your killing a man at the card-table,” ‘*Kate, this is not true, and he has spoken falsely to you.” ‘¢-Your presence here seems to prove it, Carl.” “Yes, for I never saw this man Regnier in my life, and more, Kate, wishing to see the man you had pledged yourself to, I cruised down the Carolina coast, and nowhere could I hear of such a person,” ‘‘Oh, Carl! you could not have gone to the right part of the country, for Mr. Regnier is very rich, and such a prominent person as he is, must be well known.” ‘* Where did you address your letters to him, if you wrote?” “ Yes, I wrote several times.” ** And how did you address his letters?” ‘*To Merton Regnier.” “ But where?” “To the care of his agent in Baltimore, for he said he always forwarded them to him more quickly than by the regular mail.” ‘** And did your letters come through Balti~ more?” “Yes, I believe they did.” “Kate, this Merton Regnier is a fraud.” ** Oh, Carl!” “*T mean it.” ‘* But how can he be?” ** As easily as I could be, did I so wish.” Carl?” ‘You say he came here with his servants?” ‘¢ Yes.” ** And horses and carriages?” ‘Yes, he has a valet, a coachman and foot- man, and half a dozen horses, two of which are saddle animals, and one he presented me with to-day.” ‘“‘ Kate, you better marry me and hope for the best, and that I will prove all that you could wish, than marry that fellow who I am con- vinced is an adventurer.” “ But, Carl, he is an old friend of father.” ‘* Well, even your father might be deceived in him.” ‘* But what motive would he have?” ‘*'Your money.” ‘‘ But I tell you he is enormously rich, and he bought me a jewel necklace to-day worth a for- tnne.” ‘¢ Well, your beauty has won him, for you are | lovely enough, Kate, to make a saint sin.” de Carl, you must not tal kso; but let me ask you | what you wish me to do?” ** Meet me, to-morrow night, down at the boat- house at nine o'clock.” ‘You will be there?” “Yes, with a boat, for you must fly with me, Kate, as that fellow shall never have you.” ** Ah, Carl! I feel sad to think I must run away from my home, and my dear father; but it would be sacrilege, to marry Merton Regnier loving you as I do, and to remain here would be to be bound to him. “T will go with you, Carl, and become wife, but, oh! do not oe yourself false seech you, for it would break my heart. ‘“‘T ‘will come, so be prompt; as I will be very nervous if I have to wait there alone,” ‘““T will be there, Kate, and you need bring-no luggage, for I have a trousseau for you wor- thy of a princess.” ? ‘Why, Carl, you amaze me!’ “Ttis true, Kate. as you shall see; but now you must hasten back, and until to-morrow night farewell.” Thus they parted, he to return to his vessel, she, never dreaming of the trap laid for her, to i go back to her home believing him true, CHAPTER XV. KIDNAPPED. “What! going to leave us so soon?” said Merton Regnier, as Kate arose to leave the lor, the evening after her interview with Casandra. ‘*- Yes, lam nervous to-night, so will not in- flict my posspany. upon you, * Good-night, father!” and as she bent over our be- ‘arl —_ a

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_engpneie a . eS eon es a ek lk er aS { "’ s Ne “oly we! 10 <a ena ~~ A Cabin Boy’s Luck. and kissed him, he started asa tear fell upon | deed launched upon life’s sea, to drift with the his forehead. f ‘‘ Why, Kate, my child, you are weeping,” he tide wheresoever Fate would carry ber. Glancing up, her eyes fell upon a name in gilt said tenderly, and she burst into tears, and threw | letters. her arms about him. i A moment she stood thus, and then she kissed Instantly her gaze became riveted upon it, and then in a moan the words came from her him quickly and ran out of the room, without a | lips: word to Merton Regnier. ‘Poor child, she is indeed nervous; but it is not strange, when a few days more she is to be married,” said the planter quickly. ‘““She shall never shed a tear that I will bring into her beautiful eyes,” responded Merton Reg- nier, and the two turned to their cigars and a game of cards. In the mean time Kate had gone to her room, and placing there on a table a letter she had al- ready written to her father, she left ny the side of it a morocco box that contained the jewels which Merton Regnier had presented to her. In the box was a note, and its contents were: “ Forgive me for the pain that I may give you, in thus flying from you; but I have one love in my heart that [ cannot banish, and it would be sacrilege to become your wife, : “To that one I go, and soon I shall be his wife, and for all you may suffer through me, again I ask you to forgive me, and forget me, ‘ “T return you your jewels, and may your life be ever happy is the wish of Your friend, ‘Kats Kenyon.” To her father she wrote: “My Dearest FATHER:— “Do not blame me, and utterly cast me out of your heart, because I have acted for myself and fled with Carl Casandra, the one being I love as a pores should love the man she would call hus- and, “T am deeply pained to cause you sorrow; but you remember that you said no proof would you take of Carl’s innocence, and { knew that you would not receive him in your home. ; “T feel that he is innocent, and hence I go with him to-night, and ere long will be his wife. **Father, I sue for your forgiveness, and if you are willing to take me to your heart again, address me under my married name, through the New York post-office, telling me you forgive me. * Farewell, father, and Heaven bless you. * Your loving daughter, “ Kater, ” Hastily throwing a wrap about her, and seiz- ing a small hand-bag, she had already packed, ' Kate Kenyon stole out of her room, and, as noiselessly as a thief, left the mansion. Across the lawn she went, down the gravel walk to the shore of the little harbor, and out upon the boat-house pier. The water dashed against the pier with a weird sound, and all was darkness about her. But suddenly a voice whispered: “ce Kate ? : * Carl!” Thus they met, and in a moment more a boat with muffled oars was pulling swiftly out of the little harbor. Four oarsmen were in the boat, their blades rising and falling with the precision of man-of- war’s-men, and in the stern with her, sat Carl Casandra, his hand upon the tiller, Out of the cove went the boat, through the ehannel without a miss, and there, putting his helm a-port, Carl Casandra turned the prow * down the coast. _ Arrow of half a league, and close under the wooded shores lay a vessel. It was the armed schooner which Kate had once seen from the cliff. Running alongside, Carl Casandra aided Kate on deck, and then gave orders to get the schoon- er under way, ‘* Ay, ay, sir!” said the officer, saluting, and then he added, as the companionway light fell full upon the face of the maiden: “As beautiful as a dream! but what an out- rage that she is to become a pirate’s bride.” ‘Here, Kate, this cabin is yours until we pr New York, when ycu shall become my wife. ‘*Make yourself contented here, for no one shall disturb you, for the entire .cabin I devote to you. d After we get under way, Mr. Lennox, my lieutenant, and myself will come in and have supper with you—so now, excuse me,” He turned away, and Kate Kenyon dropped into a chair and burst into tears, for she felt for the pain her flight must give her loving father and her brother in faraway England, when he should know of what she had done. She heard the rapid movement of feet over- head, the low, stern orders of the officers, and | felt the Mace ‘filled her sails. careen gently to the wind, as it Then came the musical ripple left in the schooner’s wake, and she felt that she was in- ‘* The cprtira! Great God! this is the vessel of Carl the Corsair! and I have fled from my home with a pirate!” Then she sunk down upon the floor in a Leap, for she had swooned away, overcome by the tor- hese of emotion that surged into her heart and rain. CHAPTER XVI. THE PIRATE’S THREAT. How long Kate lay in a swoon she did not know, but at last consciousness returned to her and she started as the wash of waters reached her ears, and glancing around she saw where she was. ; Instantly she recalled how bitterly she had been deceived by the man she loved, and from her heart faded every atom of affection for him, while in its place the seeds of hatred and revenge were shown. Kate was, as the render has seen, utterly fear- less, and her strong nature came to her rescue in her distress, and she soon threw off the almost overpowering anguish citer her, and nerved herself to bear the ordea] before her, The schooner was gliding along at a seven- knot pace, and glancing out of the stern-ports, Kate saw that she was leaving a snowy wake be- hind her. Far in the distance she saw a light, and she recognized it as the one shining in the hall of Castle Kenyon. Had they missed her yet, she wondered, and dropping her head upon her hand she again i he ut only for a moment, as she started to her feet and said: “* Away all feeling, for he shall not see what I sulrer, “ Ah! he is coming.” She took her seat near the table, in sucha way that the cabin lamp would not fall upon her face, and just then in came Carl Casandra and another. That other was a young officer, good-looking, réckless-faced, and with the air of one who too life as it came to him, good or bad. ‘‘ Ah, Kate, you are reading I see,” said Carl Teena as he saw her hand upon an open ook. “That is right, for you must not get home- sick; but permit me to present to you my first luff, Lucas Lennox, a gallant gentleman and thorough seaman, and who is to be my grooms- man when we are married.” | Kate bowed poy and said nothing, and Carl Casandra continued: _ ‘“Thave ordered the steward to bring supper in here, and we can have a pleasant little time, for Lennox sups with us with your consent.” ‘I would much prefer Mr, Lennox to re- main,” was the cold reply, and Carl Casandra started and looked at her fixedly. “* Are you angry, Kate, about anything?” “Your vessel, see is the Spitfire?” she said, in bey ein way, as though to change the subject. ‘* Yes, do you not like her?” he asked. ‘* And are you Carl, the Corsair?” she asked in a sharp way. ‘“Why, Kate, what an idea!” and the man turned pale. *¢ Answer me?” He saw her blazing eyes and her pallid face, and he said: ‘*Kate, do not ask questions now, fof all will come well in the end,” ** Are you Carl the Corsair?” she repeated in the same stern tone, : ; “Well, if Iam, Kate?” he said with a forced Casandra remained, and said hesitatingly : “Reason! it is a wonder that my reason is not gone, when I discover your treachery.” ‘Kate, listen to me, and let me tell you all!’ pleaded the man. ‘*T will listen, to hear what more that is false your lips can utter.” ‘“* Kate, you saved my life, as you know—” “Ay! and you, in return, would wreck mine?” ‘‘No, I mean it not so, Kate, for I love you. I was wayward, extravagant, wrong—ay, wicked, and I met you when I had no aim in life but ambition, ‘*’-You saved me from death, and you saved me from myself. ‘*T was poor, only my captain’s pay: but I was passionately fond of gambling, and all I had went over the chance table. ‘“When you bade me hope, I determined to try my luck but once and win, for your sake, I tried and I failed. : ‘*T plunged deeper into the mire, and in my despair I turned to one who aided me. ‘* All was clear sailing then except the debt I owed him. “Then it was that I went to see you, and. while there received the sweet assurance that. you would become my wife. But I was penni- ess, and—” ‘* Penniless, with the certificate of deposit for twenty thousand dollars which you handed to my father?” ‘Tt was the money given me by the friend I spoke of to pay my debts with,” was the ready reply ; ‘T paid my debts on my return, and was once: more tempted to gamble. ‘* Again I plunged deeper; my prizes, as you know, were retaken by the smugglers, and I went on a cruise to redeem myself. ‘*f{ returned unsuccessful, the Government: had written me word that I was suspended for a year without service, pay or rank, for gam- bling, and my friend was pressing me for his: money. ee : ‘‘TIn my despair I resigned, and then this ves- sel was offered to me. ‘¢ She was fitted out as a privateer, to be used. as such in the war that we must soon have with ‘England, and I went on my cruise in her.” . ‘** As a pirate?” “T meant not to become an outlaw, Kate; but. I drifted into it; the first blow was struck and I went from bad to worse.” ‘* But about your being in St. Louis?” “Kate, I did not go there, though I wrote letters to have you think I was there.” ‘‘ And your being seen there by Mr. Regnier, the newspaper account of the murder, and—” ‘* All were lies, Kate, told by some enemy.” ‘So you have been a pirate ever since you left Baltimore?” ; “*T have; but I loved you through all.” ‘* A pirate’s love is a curse, Carl Casandra,” ‘* Not mine, Kate, for it is true. , ‘“‘T have ever loved you, and I determined to make you my wife, for I felt that you would forgive me all. ‘*T am rich, very rich now—” ‘* With blood-money?” ; “No, Lhave taken many prizes without shed- ding a drop of blood.” “Tt was accidentally, for you would have killed all the same, had you been resisted.” ‘You are bitter, Kate.” **T am just.” ‘* My only excuse, Kate, for doing as I have, is my love for you.” ‘‘T hate a man whose love is degrading.” ‘‘ No, no, Kate, mine is true, and if you wilh be my wife you shall never have cause to regret; ' it.’ ie ‘¢Be your wife, Carl Casandra? ‘¢ Sooner would I become the wife of the meanest, lowest, cruelest pirate on board this: vessel, for he at least has not deceived me, and you have. ‘ “No, sir, I defy you, I scorn you, I hate you, and now that yes now my opinion of you, and just how I feel toward you, perhaps you will me what will be your next cowardly move to~ ward me?” Carl Casandra was as white as a ghost,and eens fairly chattered as though he had a 4 controlled himself wonderfully well. i; He loved the girl, as one such as he could love, and he intended to make her his wife, ! that she would forgive and forget all. ey But he was determined to show her that he was master on his own vessel, and so he said: “Kate, I love you more than all else on earth, | and when you arrive in New York, I wish you~ to become my wife. Yeas “Tf you will live with me“then, go with , Tomes 2G yok felt He was almost frenzied with rage, and yet he _ hoping Pat ot - + . ei i . op ene eens halak, + wy Be! « ~

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_ a ee a uy Pans fx} the world over, I will be a happy man, and my aim shall be to make you nay ‘Tf you wish to leave me, when you have be- come my wife, you are free to go; but hear me, Kate Kenyon, until you do marry me, you shall never leave this vessel. ‘‘You understand, wed me, and go if you wish, or remain; but unless you do, here you remain. ‘*As my wife, you will’not dare marry an- other, and I will have that satisfaction, so you hear my threat and can act accordingly. ‘* What do you say?” ‘“‘Give me time to think,” she said ina low tone, and he immediately rose and left the cabin. CHAPTER XVII. THE BOY PILOT, Somer weeks passed away, after the scene in the cabin of the Spitfire, between the kidnapped girl and the young pirate captain. The schooner had run out of the Chesapeake and headed for New York, and there seeking a secluded anchorage in the Shrewsbury river, Carl Casandra had run up to the city, leaving Kate in the cabin. Since that night, when he brought her on board, they had spoken but seldom. She had the full use of the cabin and ate her meals alone. : i She went on deck at will, and if spoken to by Carl Casandra, she replied to him coldly, When he returned from New York, he visited her in the cabin. ; “Kate, 1 saw a priest to-day, and he will come on board and marry us, whenever you say the word.” “‘T shall never marry you, Carl Casandra, for I despise you as a despicable creature.” ‘¢ Well, you know my threat, and I shall keep it. “You do not leave this vessel until you are my wife.” ** We shall see,” was the calm reply. ‘Weill, as you know, Kate, I have taken no prize since you have been on board, nor do I wish to; but I have learned of a treasure having been buried upon the lower end of Long Island, and I believe I can find it. “Tt is said that a former pirate was cast ashore there in a wreck, and there remained, having turned school-teacher. “He was once there with a chief who buried considerable treasure one night, and this fellow, I am sure, has never found it. ‘‘He has, it is said, a map, or the part of a one, showing where the treasure is hidden; but to find it, two maps have to be studied together, and my informant has given me the second one, so I intend to go and get that treasure. “ Another thing: from all accounts this old teacher and ex-pirate, I think is one who did me a great wrong, for he Janded near my home and killed my brother, when he was attacked, and I am revengeful, so would see if he be the one. ‘“ Now, Kate, to the other end of Long Island the Spitfire sails at once, and if I get the treas- ure I will give you my share if you will marry me, ‘Got your treasure first, Carl Casandra,” was the response, and with a muttered oath the pi- rate left the cabin, : Two nights afterward the schooner ran in close to the Long Island shore, ard there the wind failed her, 50 &@nN anchor was let go. Listlessly the vessel rolled upon the waters, her crew anxiously regarding a storm that was slowly rising. All could see that the anchorage was one of the greatest danger, in case of a storm, for shoals were upon every side, and a rough shore beyond. But Carl Casandra called away a boat's crew and after studying his map started for the beach just as darkness ell upon land and sea, He followed the directions given him, dis- covered the old school-house marked on his map, and which stood back from the ocean nearly a third of a mile. “That is the place where the man lives, for it is marked, ‘a school-house, surrounded by a graveyard; once a church. 5 There is a light v chin, so I will enter,” He halted his men among the graves, found the door on the latch, entered the school-room, which took up the first floor, and. then, with his lantern held above his head, ascended the stairs leading to the floor above, where he had been told that the old ex-pirate, as schoolmaster, had his rooms, living there and doing his own house- work. Noiselessly he pushed the door open, and there r ,* SS eee ee A Cabin Boy’s Luck. sat a man past fifty, his head bent over, as he gazed at something os the table before him. ‘‘Tt is that pirate Lieutenant Silas Finlay, he to whom Iowe a bitter grudge,” he muttered, and then aloud cried: *‘ Silas Finlay, we meet again!” As he spoke he threw forward his pistol and fired, and the man’s head fell upon the table a bullet in his brain. ‘* Curses upon me! I have alarmed the neigh- borhood, and more, have lost by his death, the secret he held. ‘ Hark! that is thunder, and the storm is not far off. ‘*T will hasten back to the vessel; but I will come again.” Back to the schooner he went with his men, and upon arriving there discovered that the calm still remained upon the waters, and the storm was sweeping down from seaward with awful menace, ‘My God, Lennox! without a pilot, I fear we are lost here when the storm breaks. ‘‘Get out both anchors, and we will try and ride it out; but if they fail, we must try and beat out to sea in the teeth of the gale as best we may. ‘‘ But we are certainly in desperate danger here.” “* We are, indeed, Captain Carl; but hark!” Out upon the water was heard a hail, anda boat was quickly lowered and dispatched toward the one who hailed, After a short absence the boat returned, and it bore in it a youth it had taken from the water. ‘Well, my bold swimmer, you are a plucky fellow to swim out to us; but give an account of yourself,” said Carl Casandra. ** My story is soon told, sir, for I live on yon- der shore with my widowed mother. ‘Because I opposed her marriage with old Silas Finn, the teacher of the village, he flogged me cruelly, as you can see by the cuts upon my arms and shoulders; and I determined I would not remain in disgrace at home, so swam out to your vessel, to ask for a berth as a cabin ** You can get it; but what is your name?” “Dare,” “It is suited to you, after your desperate swim; but you are very young.” ‘* Rifteen, sir.” : ‘¢ And do you know this coast?” ‘Thoroughly, sir; and you have dropped an- chor on the most dangerous part of it, and for that reason I swam out to-night, rather than wait until the morning.” ‘You are a fine fellow,” and Captain Carl gazed with admiration upon the handsome boy, as he stocd there, bare-headed and bare-footed, with his shoes, hat anda small bundle hanging at his back. ‘“You say you can get the schooner out of her danger, my lad?” “Yes, sir, if her sticks don’t go out of her when the blow strikes; but you must get up your an- chors and stand ready to set a stitch of canvas, enough to give her good steerage-way, and we'll run out to sea through the channels among the shoals,” / * You talk like a commodore, my lad, and if you save the vessel, you will have proven your- self worthy to step into my second luff’s shoes, for I need a junior officer greatly. ** But here comes the storm, so take your post, for the schooner is in your hands.” As the pirate captain spoke, the roar of the tempest became appalling, and awe filled the hearts of those who gazed upon its terrific ap- proach over the sea, which it lashed into foam as it came, Calmly at the wheel stood the boy pilot, and equally as calm was Kate Kenyon, as she stood near the companionway watching the coming of the hurricane. CHAPTER XVIII. THE LAD AND THE LADY, WirTH a shock that threatened to ride over the stanch schooner, the hurricane came, and for a moment it seemed as though death must come to all and destruction to the vessel: but the Boy Pilot held the head to the sea until the first blow was given, ard then Jetting her fall off, to catch the gale in the few feet of canvas set, let her drive away at a speed that was feorful. Now and then came a quick, stern order, dis- tinctly heard in spite of the war of the tempest, for the boy’s voice was strangely penetrating, and it was quickly executed, Further out into the darkness and the storm drove the gallant schooner, and a sigh of relief ti came from every heart when it was known that the tempest alone was the danger they had ta. face, and no longer the dangerous channel among the shoals. Days passed away, and one night the schooner glided into the lower bay of New York, It was starlight, and the Sandy Hook light- house cast its eye over the waters, as a beacon for in-coming vessels; but the pirate craft took advantage of it, and running into the harbor, quietly crossed the horseshoe haven, where sev- eral vessels were at anchor, and held on under pe dark shadows of the Highlands of Nave- sink. Here her prow was turned up the Navesink river, and rounding the bold highland pro- montory, on which now stands beautiful sum- mer-houses, but then was a wilderness, she steered into North Shrewsbury river. The man at her helm, an old seaman, seemed to know the course full well, for the schooner sped on under a six-knot breeze, keeping close to the Highland shore. At length the wheel was swung sharply to: port, the sails were eased off, and the Spitfire seemed to be going directly into the forest-clad shores. But no! an opening is seen and into this she darted, to find herself in a secure little harbor, surrounded by overhanging cliffs and trees. ‘‘.This is indeed a saferetreat,” said the young lad, who had come out to the schooner, and he spoke in a low tone, addressing Kate Kenyon,, who was standing near. Into the mouth of a creek, flowing into the: basin, or cove, the schconer came to anchor, and. at once all was made shipshape for a continued stay. ‘*Come, Lennox, the duty that I goon up to the city will require your aid, so you must ac- company me,” said Captain Carl, after the an- chor was let fall. ‘** But the schooner, sir?” asked the young of- ficer, who did not relish the idea of going for some reason. ** Oh, she'll take care of herself.” ‘* But the prisoners, for the boy is nothing more,” ‘‘No, the boy is all right, and I have the pledge of Miss ‘Kenyon that she will not escape while I am gone, and Dare, as the boy calls himself shall be left in charge, for he has shown himself fully capable of commanding, and if he has done well as acting lieutenant, he can do equally well when he is junior officer in reality.” ‘“*You take big chances, Captain Carl, in not allowing me to remain in command, for we’ know not what the crew may do.” ‘Tl trust to them and the boy, never fear, so» come.” “Curses!” muttered the pirate Lieutenant Lennox, and he added: “He is jealous of me, and feared to leave me alone with her, thinking her beautiful eyes would win me over to setting her free, and I almost fear they would, “ Bat, if she has given her pledge to him not to escape, she will keep it, but he must have de-- ceived her by some promises to get such a pledge, when she is so anxious to escape,” and the lieu- tenant went to his stete-room and soon return-- ed dressed as a merchant sailor, for he had dis- carded his uniform. The chief had done likewise, and springin into the gig with the two oarsmen they too their departure, Captain Car] calling out: ‘* Remember, Dare, to send a boat to-morrow night to the lower village on Staten Island, for the things I intend sending down. _ ‘¢ Tet them go to the little white inn and the landlord will give them the packages, as I ex- plained to-you.” “ Ay ay, sir,” called out Dare, and he stood looking at the departing boat. He allowed all of the crew to turn in for the: night, excepting a lookout forward, and said that he would hold the afterpart of the deck un-- til dawn. Then he paced to and fro, a sad look resting upon his face, as could be seen by the light from. the companionway when he passed it. Sitting in the cabin was Kate Kenyon, and her eyes were fixed upon the boy’s face, as he suddenly halted just before the companionway. “That boy has some strange history, I feel» but I have not dared hardly notice him, for fear’ I would excite Carl’s suspicions, ‘His is a face too severe, young as it is, and that he has daring and nerve all on this vessel have been proven, while, in spite of bis years he is respected as much as is Lennox, who is less: strict than he should be with such a wild crew, ‘“‘ But then Carl Casandra is severe to the bit~ terest cruelty,” a ae eed

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=SyJ ee ee et pe ie ——

** As I said, my name is Duncan Dare, and my ‘mother comes from a good old Long Island fam- ily, half-farmers, half-sailors. ‘“* My father was wrecked on the coast, and a ‘stranger, and my mother saved the lives of those -on the wreck, and the result was my father and she learned to love each other.” __ ‘What a strange coincidence,” murmured Kate, recalling the similar circumstances of ker “own life. ‘* My mother was very beautiful, and is yet.” **T can well believe it,” thought Kate. ‘* And she lived most happily with my father, “who went to sea as a captain of a vessel, some “years after their marriage. “He never returned, and it was said that his «ship foundered with all on board, but somehow Inever believed him dead, though I suppose it “was because I did not wish to do so. ‘* Well, another wrecked seaman came to our village, and he was soon made teacher of the little county school. ‘“The school-house was once a church and ‘ Vig oe me mpi about ae —s ‘house, and it is a cheerf e; but we “no better, and here we fale all attended aS, «school, — I told her that I believed father yet lived, and M4 A Cabin Boy’s Luck. “The Dominie, Silas Finn, was a severe man, and I never liked him, though he treated me arf ** He lived alone in the room over the school- room, and kept much to himself. ** AtJast I found out that he loved my mother and that she, in some way strangely influenced by him, had promised to marry him. ‘**He spoke to me about it, and I swore that my mother should not become his wife, and the result was he began to bitterly persecute me, as though to show his power over my mother. ‘She would not refuse to marry him, although she was firm in her intentions to marry him, though the thought of doing so certainly made her appear most unhappy. “One day Silas Finn determined to whip me, and though I did not raise a hand, he flog- ged me cruelly as long as he was able to raise his arm, ** Tt was done before all the school, before one, eit little Jessie Hampton, my girl sweet- heart lady, so that I did not flinch. ‘*T would have died first, and I have the scars now on niy shoulders and back of his cruel blows. : “TI did not go right home from school, but re- mained in thie woods uctil late, and I found that he had been to my mother and told his story, ‘“*T told her mine, and though she believed me she yet said she must marry that man. ‘*She dressed my cuts for me, and then left me to go to sleep. ** But I got wp, and taking the little money I had with me, left home. ‘*T had seen this schooner lying off on the shoals in the afternoon, and so I determined to swim out to her, and seek my fortune by begin- ning as a cabin boy. ‘When I found out what the schooner was, I of course refused to run her into the inlet, that Captain Carl might rob my friends, perhaps my mother’s home, and then, as you know, he threatened to’ kill me. ‘* But I would have died before I yielded.” ‘“*T knew that, my noble boy, and so I came to your rescue, by showing Carl Casandra that he was destroying his vessel and the lives of all by killing you, for he is merciless, and I believe would have taken your life in his fury. ‘* As it is, he has made you his cabin boy, and et you are serving as an officer also. ** He is a strange man, that Carl Casandra, as you will know if you see more of him. *“Now, let me thank you for telling me of ourself, and I hope all will go well for you at ome, and that your mother will not marry the schoolmaster, when she finds how deeply you feel about it, while I predict for you that you return home in honor.” ‘That is my intention, lady, for if I could only go back as a midshipman, gained through my own acts, I would be happy indeed.” ‘Well, I have some kindred who hold high places in the navy, some relatives of my mother, and I will see what they will do for you, when I return home.” “TI prefer to win my promotion, lady, by gal- lantry; but I thank you most sincerely; but will you not tell me how it is that I find Ps on this pirate vessel, for you seem so out of place here?” ‘* Yes, I will tell you my story, now that I have heard yours,” and Kate Kenyon told of her home on the shores of the Chesapeake bay, of her twin brother, then at a university in England, of their childhood together, the death of their mother, the traveling abroad and re- turn home to what seemed such a desolate life. Then her voice became cold and stern as she told of the storm, and how she had gone out in the life-boat with her negro crew, to save the schooner. All that followed, her admiration, trust and love for Carl Casandra, she made known to the boy, up to the fatal moment of her leaving home, and the agony she felt when she discover- ed what the vessel was, ‘* Now,” she continued, “‘ Carl Casandra pledg- ed me his word that he would return me by night to my home, if I would promise I would not attempt to escape while the schooner is lying in hiding here.” ‘** And you promised, lady?” “Yes, I gave him my pledge.” ; ‘ Do you trust him?’ us “Nor do I.” “* Well, I will never him ‘See! I carry this weapon, which I found in the cabin, and before I would marry him I would drive it to his heart,” and the look in Kate Kenyon’s eyes as she uttered the words ———$— i>. proved that she meant all that she said, and she returned the jeweled dagger to her bosom once more. ‘* Now let us be friends, and,as we know each other, we can work together to foil this man Carl Casandra,” and Kate held up her hand an the Cabin Boy firmly grasped it. . Thus was a firm compact entered into between the two, so strangely met in the cabin of the pirate vessel, and from that moment the boy and the maiden plotted mischief against Carl Casandra the Corsair. CHAPTER XX. ON THE CABIN BOY’S TRACK. THE next day, according to Captain Carl’s orders, the Cabin Boy, acting as an officer, sent a boat with a coxswain and four oarsmen up to Staten Island for certain stores and articles needed for the schooner. The remainder of the crew were set to work repairing and overhauling the vessel, and the day passed in a busy way. Ont the return of the boat the coxswain re- ported secretly to the lad that a very inquisitive man, who had discovered the existence of the Spitfire in those waters, had been making in- quiries regarding whether they had not been cruising on the one Island shore of the At- lantic, and if there was not on the vessel a youth answering his, Dare’s, description. ‘* He seemed to know so much,” continued the coxswain, “that I invited him into the boat to go down and see for himself, thinking it best to hold him for the captain, who will either make him ship as one of the crew, or put an end to him.” Dare, the Cabin Boy, was considerably moved by what he heard, for he did not doubt but that it was some one in search of him. Did he make himself known then, as being ou a pirate vessel, it would kill his mother he felt, if it got to her ears. aru He therefore was determined not to be recog- nized by the visitor, and yet he wished to see him, for he knew if he remained on board Cap- tain Carl would do with him as the coxswain had said. : He made known to Kate Kenyon the situation of affairs, and she promptly said: | : **Tf the man means you no harm, is only seek- ing to find you, the sooner you get him away from the schooner the better, for Carl would rather kill him than have him go.” ‘* But I do not wish to be recognized, lady.” “True. Oh! here isa mask I found among ths traps on board, so put it on, and throw this cloak about you. ‘* There, that is splendid. ‘Now I will tell the coxswain to send the man here.” In a short while the stranger entered. He was a frank-faced, fearless-looking man, looking like one who was half-landsman, half- sailor, and he seemed surprised when ushered into the cabin. He glanced from the lady to the youth, and then turned to the coxswain but he had gone and his eyes came back to the masked face and cloaked form. “Well, my man, what do you wish on board this craft?’ said Dare in a voice of assumed sternness. ‘“‘T came in search of a runaway lad, sir, and I am an officer of the law.” “You have come into the wrong place, my man, and if you value your Itfe you will at once depart, for this vessel isthe buccaneer Spitfire, and you had better just slip quietly over the’ stern and get ashore as best you can, for if you await the return of her captain you will be swung up to the yard-arm.” ‘ The man paled a little, but showed no fear, and seemed about to argue the matter; but the masked Cabin Boy said: ‘* Now be off, while there is time to saye your life, ‘Gently slip over the taffrail and swim for the shore, and none of the crew will see you in the darkness, ‘‘ Do you understand?” *T do, and I thank you, whoever you are,” and the man turned quickly, bowed to Kate, and disappeared noiselessly over the schooner’s stern. When he had departed the Cabin Boy said quietly, as he removed the mask and cloak. “That man is Constable Nat Kane from my village, and he was indeed on my track. * Now to deceive the crew.” “ Seizing a musket Dare went to the companion- way, glanced cautiously up and down the deck, and seeing that no one of the crew was mear hurled it into the sea. oa. “tn > Cre ae EE ERR = IE

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craig LTE ie: A Cabin Boy’s Luck. 18 the words: “Ho, men! man overboard! “The prisoner has escaped, for he went up the companionway and over the stern into the sea, All was at once excitement, and a boat was launched and pulled rapidly about the little harbor. But the darkness prevented those on the “vessel from seeing what had become of the fu- gitive. “Tt will not do to remain here now, for we will be discovered, so I will go to the other ren- dezvyous, the captain appointed, should we have to depart from here, and there he will join us. “Order two men to run up in a boat to Staten Island, and wait the captain’s eoming to the White Tavern, so he can come direct to the rendezyous.” The schooner was in bad shape for moving, for she was, as I have said, undergoing repairs; but did she remain where she was Dare knew well enough that she would be taken, did the constable ‘go to the city and report her presence, as he did not doubt that he would do, Why a constable had been sent after him, he could not tell, but he set it down to some of Silas Finn’s work, little knowing that the school- master was in his grave, having been killed, as the reader will remember by Car] Casanda,-who had kept the act from his crew through some reason or other. If the vessel was taken both he and Kate Kenyon would be found on board, and this Dare the Cabin Boy by no means wished to be the case, : Also, by running off to save the schooner, he would gain the confidence of Captain Carl, and thus open the way for his future efforts to es- cape, and at the same time aid Kate Kenyon, Thus it was that he called the Sandy Hook pilot, who was one of the crew, to take the wheel, and the schooner moved slowly out of her secret retreat, Down the Shrewsbury river she went, through the waters of Navesink, around the Hook, and out to sea. Then she headed down the coast, keeping close inshore and coming to Manasquan Inlet, just before dawn, ran buldly into it. A league away was a heavily wooded island, and in a cove in its heavily wooded shores, she found the anchorage which Carl Casandra had directed her to. en the sun arose she was safely hidden away, the Jersey farmers not far distant little g that a pirate vessel was so near their hearthstones, With farm-houses not more,than a mile dis- tant, the repairing of the schooner could not ‘be kept up, for fear sharp ears would catch the sounds, so after setting a watch out on the isl- and, Carl Casandra sought the rest he so much needed, and the vessel, whose decks had been so often stained with blood, became as still as the grave. CHAPTER XXI. AT THE POINT OF THE SWORD. THE day passed away without an incident, but some hours after dark one of the lookouts on the island reported a small vessel standing up the Manasquan toward the island. Going ashore, for the schooner lay against the bank, the water being of good depth, the Cabin ot turned his glass upon the approaching craft. ‘She is too large to belong to any of the farms, and it must be Captain Carl conning ora message from him. } *T will soon know, for I shall display the sig- hal, _ “Bring me a red and green lantern,” Dare’s order was promptly obeyed, and when he held the lanterns above his head, one in each hand, he saw an answering signal from the SOP which displayed a blue and white light. - “The signals are correct; but then traitors are numerous, and we must be ready for friend or foe,” and Dare called the,men on board and got Of eae action, i he ae Ae inten- ion only being anxi appear well with themea 78 it _ Ina short while. the coming sloop rounded the ‘ island and shot into the cove. "Sloop ahoy™ hailed the Cabin Boy. ‘Ahoy the Spitfire” “Ay, ay, sir!” called out the Jad, recognizing the volte ot Captain Gane mies a a ong- eek of ti chose. and tain’ Car sprung upon the deck, follow cutter’s followed by Lennox, Tt fell with a loud splash, and then rung out pS re . a — while a score of men were visible upon the other vessel, “Well, my gallant Cabin Boy, you did well to get out of the Navesink waters, for our pres- ence was known there, and we must depart from here too, as soon as I have gotten the car- go on the sloop transferred to the Spitfire. “*Set the men to work, Lennox, and let them lose no time, for we must have both vessels two leagues at sea, and far apart when dawn comes. ‘“Ah, Kate, my beautiful, you have not yet | retired?” and he turned to the maiden, ‘“* No, I waited up to see if you brought any tidings for me?” “Yes, I went to the post-office, for somehow I had an idea that your father would write you to every seaport, urging your return, and I wish- ed to be sure if he would welcome you as my wife,” ‘* Well, did you get a letter?” “Yes, and read it, and it begs you to come back to him and he will forgive all, so you see he will forgive me too, if he does not know me as a pirate, and of course we will not tell him,” ‘*Wretch inhuman, give me my letter!” ‘Here it is, and kindly read it by the binnacle light, as I wish to see this lad alone in the cabin. ‘* Come, sir!” and Captain Carl called to Dare, who quietly followed him, ‘* Be seated, my lad, and I will join you soon,” and the captain left the cabin; but in a few minutes he returned and sat down, his face wearing a look of deviltry. He was flushed with drinking, Dare at once observed, and he seemed in no very pleasant mood, But the youn satin calm silence awaiting the pirate’s will, “Well, my boy, you have proven yourself a good commander, and I suppose are willing to cast your lot with us, when I promise you that you shall be my junior luff?” **T came out, sir, to be a sailor, and though I did not expect to turn pirate, the force of cir- cumstances seems to have led me that way,” was the cautious answer. “ Well. £oe high notions of honor will soon be blunted_as mine were, and then you'll be as wicked as.I can be when I please. ‘* But let me say now that, finding our pres- ence in New York waters was known, I left the city with but half the needed articles for put- ting the schooner in shape, and I shall have to sail for the Chesapeake, ide in some inlet, and run to Baltimore for what is needed, so we will depart to-night; but did all go well while I was away?” ‘Yes, sir.” “The crew did not show ill will at my leaving you in charge?” f ‘No, sir.’ _ “Nothing of moment penpenady _ ‘Yes, sir, the coxswain brought a man back in the boat with him, from Staten Island, and he proved to be a constable, on my track. _“T did not wish to be reccgnized by him, as being on a pirate vessel, so put on a mask and cloak the lady gave me, and had him taken to the cabin. ‘“‘ Finding out that the schooner was a pirate, he went up the companionway and over the stern, and all effort to capture him was fruit- ess ‘You have told a straight story, my lad, for I heard this from the men who came to tell me you had departed for this rendezvous, ‘* Now tell me what you think of the fair Kate?” ‘The lady, sir?” 0° es,” : ‘*She is very lovely, sir.” “T know that; but does she seem to fret much?” “She came with you willingly, sir, did she not?” innocently asked Dare. “‘Oh, yes; but I was afraid she fretted at be- ing on board a ce “She told me tat you had won her love, and you were to be married.” _ ** Oh, the sly minx! she is fooling me after all and really wishes to remain with me, only is anxious to make me give up my piratica] life,” said Captain Carl, a pleasant look upon his face. d, there is another thing.” “ Yes, sir. ’ . “You remember that I went to the Long palais coast, where you joined us, for a pur- “ elena ie to find a buried treasure. {| purpose find a i sur and if I failed in that, to take a look into some of the rich old farm-houses, there, where I have 1a ] it, f silver : UT Sas tnwarted by the oxen Tact tine, anid him, he started i your persisting in not running me into the inlet, and now, as soon as I have gone to the Chesa- peake and fitted out, I will return there. ‘Tt is my intention to go into the inlet by night, and make a thorough search for this: treasure, for I have information that I believe- set lead to its discovery and you must be my ilot. ‘‘No sir, I cannot do that.” ‘** But you must.” “T cannot lead you against my own home. and people.” ‘*T say you shall.” ‘* No, Captain Carl,” ** Boy, I shall make you my junior officer, and. if I get the treasure, you shall have a share equal to my own.” “No, Captain Carl, I will not do it.” ‘* Boy, if yourefuse me, I will kill you,” ‘*T will die before I betray my own people, sir.” ‘‘ By Heaven you shall die then. *} ure, stand there against that mast.” The youth stepped to the mast, and stood with. his back against it, : - . Going behind him, Captain Carl seized his: hands and quickly pinioned him to the mast. ‘‘ Now boy, your minute of doom has come,, unless you do as I demand!” announced the cap- tain_ of the Spitfire. ‘*T am ready to meet death, rather than to do- as you demand, sir,” was the bold response. __ The pirate slowly drew his pistol, meanwhile looking the boy firmly in the face, and calm] cm imself at the table with his watch in his and, ** Now, my gallant Cabin Boy, disobedience on this vessel means death, and you have but one minute to live,” and Captain Carl the Corsair gazed with sneering face straight into the fear- less eyes that met his own without quivering. “Will you obey?” asked the pirate, glancing: at his watch, ‘* Never, sir, will I do what you ask,” was the: reply, in a firm voice. ‘Curses on you, boy, over me, for 1 will not useful to me, ou have won a victory’ ill you, as you will be ‘“There, you are free, and I will get another: . to serve as pilot into the inlet I seek. ““ Now go on deck and help get the schooner - out of this as quickly as possible.” ‘‘T thank you, Captain Carl,” said the boy, his face flushing wit {oy as he got out of his: perilous situation and the pirate released him. ‘‘No thanks; go on deck,” was the gruff re- ly. 2 Out of the cabin the boy went, and as he reached the deck he beheld Kate Kenyon stand- ing there in the light of the companionway. She was as white as a corpse, and in her right: hand she grasped a pistol. ‘‘T have seen and heard all, my noble boy, and I would have shot him dead ere he could have sent a bullet into your heart,” and Kate Ken- yon fairly hissed the words, in her hatred for the: pirate chief. : ‘* Bless you, beautiful lady,” said Dare, and he added quickly: j ‘* Put up your pistol and pretend to be friend-- ly with Captain Carl, fort have a motive im asking it.” z Then Dare bounded forward to aid the crew, and half an hour after the schooner and the sloop sailed out of the Manasquan, the latter heading for New York, the Spitfire turning her row toward the secret inlet in Chesapeake ay. ee CHAPTER XXII. THE CABIN BOY’S PLOT. Tue inlet that the Spitfire ran into was one that was certainly most secluded, and the ap- proach to it was such that no one would sus- ect: that. other than a yawl could sd into the eep harbor where the pirate craft dropped an- chor. ithe shores of the little haven were wild and heavily wooded, the trees towering above the masts of the schooner, and the place was most: dismal by day even, for no habitation was with- y. inleagues, _ It was just the place for a retreat for the pirates’ craft, for no ears were near to hear the sound of carpenter work, and thither no one but an outlaw would care to go, ued In running up the bay the schooner had over-- hauled and captured a small fishing-smack, and, peed her crew of five men in irons, Capt arl had taken the little craftintow. =. ng a the heii retreat he set the men to work, and again ordering Lennox to accompany to the city for what things were for the schooner’s re Pam He had faith in bis lieutenant as an eet

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a A Cabin Boy’s Luck. ——————— ee eee) ‘but he felt that he had become deeply interested in Kate Kenyon, and hefeared to leave Lennox to her entreaties, for he dreaded that he would allow her to escape. Kate, however, had pretended soine friendli- ness, and the seed sown by the Cabin Boy, that she really loved him, but was playing a part, Captain Car! began to believe. **She will not escape,” he said; ‘‘but I will see to it that she does not,” he added. His seeing to it meant going around among the crew and bribing one man to be a spy over Kate, another on the Cabin Boy, and then plac- es. other spies upon the acts of his hirelings. hus he departed in the smack, with Lennox and two men, and he felt safe in his mind re- garding both the Cabin Boy and Kate. Dare was again left in charge, and all prom- ised well in the mind of Captain Carl for find- ing the craft in good trim, and all safe upon his return. The very night following his departure, Dun- can Dare determined to act, for he knew that ‘delays were dangerous. Taking the gig, and a fowling-piece, accom- pon by a couple of seamen, he rowed ashore shoot some game, It was late in the afternoon when he return- -ed, and he had plenty of game with him, which at gave mostly to the crew, to their great de- ight. e had not ordered the gig swung up to the davits again for the night, and the men cared for no extra work, so it remained at the star board gangway aft. As night came on the air became damp and chilly, the forest insects and toads began their ‘songs, and the place was dismal, indeed. The basin was several acres in size, and the schooner was anchored near the center of it; but the tall trees around the banks made it very dark and forbidding. Fastening severel hooks to lines, and knotting them together, Duncan Dare walked quietly along the starboard side, aud dropped them over into the little gig. Then he walked aft, and shivering, as though with a chill, he ordered the boatswain to issue grog all around, for he said: ‘*T fear this place will make us all sick, and below decks is the best place for us.” Back along the ia. side he walked, as though for exercise, and stopping at the stern, he caught hold of a string that was fast to the taff- rail. ‘* Tt is fast, the hooks have caught,” he mutter- ed, and dropping the line he again went slowly along the starboard side. Hesitating an instant at the gangway, he uickly unfastened the gig’s painter, and let it i into the water. Again he walked aft, and pulling on the string, soon drew the gig directly under the shelving stern of the schooner. Then he went down the companionway and said, in a low tone: “The gig is directly under the starboard stern port, so you can readily get into it. “Tt is fast only by a string, so be careful. “Take scoops to put in the row-locks, and then go to the spot I directed you to-night.” *¢ And you?” asked Kate Kenyon anxiously. “*T will follow you.” “Ttisa fearful place to Swim in, this black pool,” she said with a shudder, “7 will make it all right, and if you will take the cloak I'll soon get warm.” ‘*T will take all that we need, and leave at once. ‘‘ Warn me, if any one comes aft.” “T will,” and Dare began to pace up and down the deck again, from stem to stern, walk- ing rapidly, stamping his feet, and slapping his -arms about his body, tomake as much noise as ssible to cover up any sound that might come om Kate’s getting into the boat. After awhile he walked aft and quickly glanced over the stern. The gig was not there. Then closed the companionway doors, to et off the light, and once more walked for- ward. The greater number of the crew were below, but the watch was on deck, huddled up in the forecastle, one on the lookout, and the remain- der eatbered about a lantern gambling with cards. ‘* A bad place this anchorage, lads, and T don’t care how soon the captain comes back and gets us out of it,” said the young officer, and the men agreed with him, while one said: * Fighting is better than this kind of resting, Duncan Dare laughed and again walked aft. Then he bent over, seized a rope and Jowered himself quickly and silently into the water. Ina noiseless way he swam shoreward, and oace the length of the schooner away, he struck out with a bold, strong stroke. The water was very cold, and he was retarded by his clothes, but he was a bold, swimmer, and soon came to the land. As he touched the shorea voice said: “Thank God!” It was Kate Kenyon, and she sat in the gig, her hand upon the oars. ‘‘T have muffled them well, and you must put this cloak about you,” she said, as he stepped in- to the boat, “No, for rowing will warm me up, lady,” and Duncan Dare seized the oars and the boat was sent along the shore at a rapid pace. Once out of the inlet, and the Cabin Boy waded along the bay shore, and, after rowing a couple of leagues landed where there was a light visible showing a habitation. It was the home of an humble fisherman, and his smack lay at anchor near, so that a bargain was soon made with him to run the fugitives to Castle Kenyon, some leagues down the coast. It was after sunrise when the smack put in- to the little haven of Castle Kenyon, and Kate beheld her father standing upon the pier, for he had seen her coming. A look of joy was upon his white, haggard face, and he folded her in his arms in glad welcome. In a few words Kate told him all, after she had presented him to the daring Cabin Boy, and then Duncan Dare said: ‘* And now, sir, I must beg a horse from you to ride to Baltimore, that ‘I may warn some war-vessel there and pilot it down to capture the Spitfire.” ‘*T will drive there with you, my brave boy,” said the planter. ‘*No, sir, it is best that you remain, for Miss Kate needs your care now, and I can go faster on horseback,” And an hour after Duncan Dare was on his way to Baltimore mounted on a fleet horse, and anxious to get there in time to have a war-ves- sel capture the schooner before she could escape. CHAPTER XXIII. THE CABIN BOY’S LUCK. In good time Duncan Dare reached Baltimore, and found there a brig-of-war, and to her cap- tain told his story. The brig was unfortunately undergoing repairs and she could not be gotten ready until the next day, and then she set sail for the secret re- treat, Duncan Dare going on board. Just as they came in sight of the secret inlet, as the dawn was breaking, the schooner was suddenly seen to shoot out into the open bay under a cloud of canvas. Instantly the men were called to quarters, a hot fire was opened upon the schooner, and an exciting chase was begun. But the distance was too great for the guns to do much damage, and the shots fell short, while the Spitefire steadily gained upon her pursuer so swept out into the ocean leagues ahead o er. Returning to port, where he saw his chase was useless, to continue his repairs to the brig, the captain took Duncan Dare with him to Washington to make his report, and also to let the lad tell what he had discovered from papers he saw in the Spitfire’s cabin, that it was the intention of the pirate to make a search for treasure upon the Long Island coast, and, if unsuccessful, to raid the homes of the rich farmers for booty. The naval secretary was very much pleased with the handsome, daring youth, and obtained for him, at once a midshipman’s warrant, at the same time ordering him to New York in all haste, with letters to the commander of every cruiser he might find there, to give him aid in the capture of the pirate and his crew. Thus armed with authority, Duncan Dare went on his way, and knowing at what time Captain Carl had contemplated his raid, he ar- ranged accordingly to meet him with a land force, and at the same time run into the inlet on a small coaster, but with a good force of Government tars, and capture the Spitfire at her anchorage, To make it a success he wrote a long letter to Constable Nat Kane, telling him to secretly or- ganize a band of brave men, and be ready to act. When i Hon Carl went back to his vessel and found that Kate and the Cabin Boy had N } ‘ 4° kyst ‘ Pa z Se 5 eae PR <, sf 7 rage, and the heads of his spies would have fal- len, had not a messenger come from the city, warning him that he had been betrayed and a brig-of-war was then in search of him. Quickly he put to sea, and just in time, as the reader has seen. On his trip to Baltimore he discovered, to his horror, that Marks had mysteriously disa r- ed, and along with him the profits of a P the Spitfire’s piracy, and he was left penniless. ‘‘ Heads shall fall for this, and my revenge shall be terrible on Marks, that woman, and that accursed Cabin Boy,” he almost shouted in his wild rage. As he was left poor, he determined to first seek the Long Island buried treasure, and be- lieving that Duncan Dare had returned to his home, he meant to capture him too. So he arranged for his midnight marauding expedition, secured a coast pilot, ran into the inlet, landed his force, and an hour after had been surprised, defeated, his vessel taken, and all by the Cabin Boy upon whom he sought revenge, Hastily the slain pirates were buried that night, where they fell, and it was not known whether Captain Carl was among them or not, but many asserted that they had seen him fall, outwitted him and escaped, he was wild with and he was considered to have thus cheated the gallows. CHAPTER XXIV. CONCLUSION, WueEN Duncan Dare returned to his home, he was not long in discovering why Nat Kane the constable had been on his track, for Captain Carl having killed old Silas Finn that night that he: disappeared, he was considered the school- master’s murderer. Hepoupuising. the boy by a ring he wore, Con- stable Kane, knowing that he owed hiny his life kept his secret, though bemoaning his fall from honor, and he was wild with joy when Duncan Dare’s letter told him why he was a pirate, and he gladly entered into the boy’s plans to capture the pirates. The meeting between widow Dare and her brave boy, the welcome he received from his girl lady-love, Jessie Hampton, I must pass over; but certain it is, that all who knew Dun- can Dare in after years were proud to claim his friendship, and along the Long Island coast many stories are told to-day of the landing of Captain Carl the Corsair, and the luck that it brought the gallant Cabin Boy. THE END. DIME DIALOGUES AND SPEAKERS FOR SCHOOL EXHIBITIONS AND HOME ENTERTAINMENTS. Dialogues, Nos. 1 to 32 inclusive, 15 to 25 popu- lar dialogues and dramas in each book. Each vole ume 100 pages 12mo, Speakers, Nos, 1 to M4 inclusive. Each speaker 100 pages 12mo, containing from 50 to 75 pieces, YOUNG PEOPLE'S SERIES. Dime Book of Winter Sports. Dime Book of Summer Athletic Sports, Dime Gents’ Letter Writer. Dime Book of Etiquette. Dime Book of Verses. Dime Book of Dreams, Dime Fortune Teller, Dime Ladies’ Letter Writer. Dime Lovers’ Casket. Dime Ball-Room Companion, Dime Book of 100 Games. Dime Chess Instructor. Dime Book of Beauty, (2 The above books are sold by newsdealerg everywhere, or will be sent, post-paid, to any ag dress, on receipt of price, ten cents each. Branus anp Apams, Publishers, 98 William st., N. ¥, ( ov sl

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Published Every Tuesday. BY OLL COOMES. 5 Vagabond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew. 28 The Dumb Spy. . . 27 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. 81 Keen-Knife, the Prince of the Prairies. 41 Lasso Jack, the Young Mustanger. 58 The Border King; or, The Secret Foe. 71 Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. 74 Hawk-eye Harry the Young Trapper Ranger. 88 Rollo, the Boy Ranger. 184 Sure shot Seth, the Boy Rifleman. 148 Sear-Face Saul, the Silent Hunter, 146 Silver Star, the Boy Knight, 158 Eagle Kit, the Boy Demon. 168 Little Texas, the Young Mustanger. 178 Old Solitary, the Hermit Trapper. 182 Little Hurricane, the Boy Captain. 202 Prospect Pete ; or, The Young Outlaw Hunters, oy Hercules: or, The Prairie Tramps. 218 Tiger Tom, the Texas Terror. 224 Pasking Dick; or, Trapper Tom’s Castle. 228 Little Wildfire, the Young Prairie Nomad. #288 The Parson Detective; or, The Little Ranger, #248 The Disguised Guide; or, Wild Raven, the Ranger, 260 Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger, 272 Minkskin Mike, the Boy Sharpshooter. 90 Little Foxfire, the Boy Spy. 00 The Sky Demon}; or, Rainbolt, the Ranger. B84 Whip-King Joe, the Boy Ranchero. 409 Hercules; or, Dick, the Boy Ranger. 417 Webfoot Mone, the Tramp Detective. 422 Baby Sam, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone, 444 Little Buckskin, tne Young Prairie Centaur, 457 Wingedtfoot Fred}; or, Old Polar Saul, 468 Tamarac ‘Tom, the Big Trapper Boy. 478 Old Tom Rattler, the Red River Epidemie, 482 Stonewall Bob, the Boy Trojan. ®62 Blundering Basil, the Hermit Boy Trapper, 652% Don Barr, the Plains Freelance, 661 Old Kit Bandy’s Deliverance, ‘670 Norway Nels, the Big Boy Mountaineer. 680 Dauntless Dan, the Freelance; or, Old Kit Bandy in Arcadia. BY BUOKSKIN SAM (Major Sam. 8, Mall.) 284 Old Rocky's ** Boyees; or, Benito, tne Horse-Broaker 846 Glant George; or, The Ang’! of the Range. 875 Arizona Jack ; or, Giant George’s Pard, @97 The Tarantula of ‘oat } or, Giant George’s Revenge, 807 The Strange Pard; or, Little Ben’s Death Hunt. B18 | coor dea Ker-whoo} or, The Tarantula of Taos, ‘B27 Cree ing Oat, the Caddo; or, The Red and White Pards, Bee Frio reas or, The Tonkaway’s Trust. 844 The Fight ng Trio; or, Rattlesnake, the Tonkaway. 649 Wild Wolf; or, Big-Foot Wallace to the Front. 857 The Ranch Ralders; or, The Siege of Fort Pargatory. 8641 Snap-Shot, the Boy Kanger. B75 Chiota, the Creek or, The Three Thunderbolts. S81 Bandera Bill; or. Frio Frank to the Front. B92 Romeo and the Reds; or, The Beleaguered Ranch, 404 Little Lariat; or, Pecan Pete’s Big Rampage. 7. ae reer fn Denver. oun ‘he Three Tratlers; or, ocky on the Ram 44% Bluff Bill; or, The Lynx of the pe nner 455 Little Lone Star: or, The Belle of the Cibolo. 684 Cache Carl, the Chico Giant BY EDWARD WILLETT. 167 Asa Scott, the Steamboat Boy. 199 Featherwelght the Boy Champion of the Muskingum, 228 Ozark Alf; or, Featherweight Among the Outlaws, @82 The Typo Detective; or, Weasel, the Boy Tramp, 295 Fearless Phil; or, The King of Quartzville, $11 The Roving Sport; or, The Pride of Chuckaluck Camp, $22 Nemo, the Detective; or, Kit Kenyon's Vendetta. B40 Olip the Contortionist; or, The Montana Vigilantes, BY PHILIP 8. WARNE. 67 Patent-Leather Joe}; or, Old Rattlesnake, the Charmer. 175 Captam Arizona; or, Patent-Leather Joe's Big Game, 198 Captain Mask; or, Patent-Leather Joe’s Defeat. 219 Despard, the Duelist ; or, The Mountain Vempires, sss A oun Boy}; or, The Dwartf’s Revenge. 868 Little Tornado; or, The Outcasts of the Glen, 878 Little Jingo; or, the Queer Pard. B88 Little Oh-my ch Caught in His Own Trap, 401 Little Shoo-F ly 3 or, A Race for s Ranch. 408 Little Leather- reeches 3 or, Old Jumbo’s Cars 481 Little Ah Sin; or, The Curse of Blood. 451 Colorado Kate, A Tale of the lines. 480 Three Jolly Pards, 617 Jim Gladden’s Deputy. 527 The Jolly Pards to the Reacue. 647 Sandy Andy; or, A Good Man Down. see erist Lu; Re The Cast for a Life. easel-top, the Man Dogn 5698 Keen Clem, tLe Wanch fae ned ; 699 Jim Dandy the No-Name Sport, 618 Billy Blazes; or, The Skeletons 685 Oklahoma Hi, the Blue-Coat Scout, 648 Happy Harry’s Big Find. 664 Cheeky Charley, the Special, BY JO PIEROR, 897 Bob o’ the Bowery; or, The Prince o ok Phe Vagabond Detectives or, Bowery hie Ben 452 Wotapur Bob, the Street-Boy Detective, 460 The Vawyer’s Shadow; or, Luke’s | : 472 Jaunty Joe, the Young Horse-King, cacy 494 Surly Sim, the Young Ferryman Detective, 504 Five Points Phil. 509 Jack Jaggers, the Butcher Boy Detective, 516 Tartar Tim; or, Five Points Phil’s Menagerie, 626 North River Nat, the Pier Detective. ~88 Wrestling Rex, the Pride ofthe Sixth Ward, *\ 11 Jeff Flicker, the Stable Boy Detective, *1 Niek Nettle, the Boy Shadow. 4559 Harlem Jack, the Office Boy Detective, 569 Brooklyn Ben, the On-His-Own-Hook De! 577 Pavement Pete the Secret Sifter, tective, 688 Jack-o’-Lantern, the Under-Sea Prospector, ROR Wide-Awake Bert, the Street-Steerer, 614 Whistling Jacob, the Detective’s Aid, 28 Buck Bumblebee, the Harlem Hummer, 689 Sunrise Saul, the Express-Train Ferret. 649 Gamin Bob, the Bowery Badger; or, Scooping @ Blippery Set, 658 gky-Rocket Rob, the Life-Saver. 688 Saltpeter Sol, the New York Navigator, 694 Spiey Jim, the Only One of His Kind. BY J. W. OSBON. 469 The Rival Giants of Nowhar’: 498 Cactus Burr, the Man en Hard Luck. 587 Old Buckeye, the Sierra Shadow. , 664 Powder the Boy Miner. aoe TiddioLightring’s teres ac The Mystery of tae e nga $88 Plucky Paul, the Boy Prospector, xen BEADLE'’S*H ALF-[DIME* LIBRARY. No Double Numbere. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. BY ALBERT W. AIKEN, 11 The Two Detectives; or, The Fortunes ofa Bowery Girl. 78 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. ZY Mol Ginger, the Giant Trapper. 258 Jve Buck of Angels and His Boy Picd. 447 New York Nat. A Tale of Tricks and ‘raps in Gotham, 458 New England Nick; or, The Fortunes of a Foundling, 464 Nimble Nick, the Circus Prince. 98 ‘Laos Ted, toe Arizona Sport. 510 Cool Colorado, the Hal!-Breed Detective, 518 Cool Colorado in New York. BY GEORGE WALDO BROWNE, 86 Dandy Rock the Man from Texas, 90 The Dreud Rider; or, The Texan Duelist. 99 The Tiger of Tos; or, Dandy Rock’s Angel, 115 The Mad Miner; or, Dandy Rock’s Doom. 181 The Golden Hand; or, Dandy Rock to the Rescue, 164 Dandy Kock’s Pledge}; or, Hunted to Death. 178 Dandy Rock’s Rival; or, The Haunted Maid of Tacs, BY CAPT. J. F. ©. ADAMB, B84 Oregon Sol; or, Nick Whiffien’s Boy Spy. 46 Glass-Eye, the Great Shot of the West. 54 Ned Hazel, the Boy Trapper. 86 Nick Whiffies’s Pet; or, Ir The Valley of Death. 60 The White Indian; or, The Scout of the Yellowstone, 20 Old Zip’s Cabin; or, The Greenhorn in the Woods, 81 Lightning Jo, the Terror of the Prairie. 85 Buck Buckram ; or, Bess, the Female Trapper, 247 Old Grizzly and His Peta; or, The Wild Huntress, 251 Light-house Lige; or, Osceola, the Firebrand, 957 The Lost Hunters; or, The Underground Camp. 288 The Scalp King; or, The Human Thunderbolt, BY ROGER STARBUOK. 25 The Boy Captain; or, The Pirate’s Daughter, 114 The Black Schooner; or, Jib Junk, the Old Tar, 259 The Golden Harpoon; or, Lost Among the | .ves. 848 Fire-Ieels; or, Old Skinflint, the Death-Shadow. 854 Big Morn Ike, the Hill Tramp; or, The Odd Pards, 861 The Phantom Light-house, 870 Breaker Ben, the Reef-Runner. BY WILLIAM R EYSTER, 190 Dandy Darke; or, The Tigers of High Pine. 210 Faro Frank; or, Dandy Darke’s Go-Down Pards BY ©. DUNNING CLARK, 185 Captain Paul; or, The Boy Spy of the Mountains. 280 The Yankee Rajah; or, The Fate of the Black Shoreef, BY GEORGE O. JENKS. 486 Git Thar Owney the Unknown, 492 Git Thar Owney’s Pledge. 518 The Demon Doctor. 581 Double-Curve Dan, the Pitcher Detective, BYS Flute, the Singer Detective, 608 The Pitcher Detective’s Fotl; or, Dan’s Double Play, 616 The Ocean Detectives or, The Last Cruise of the Black Bear, 681 The Pitcher Detective’s Toughest Tussel. BY OAPT. ALFRED B. TAYLOR U. 8. ° 191 Buffalo Billy, the Boy Bullwhacker. 194 Buffalo Bill’s Bet; or, The Gambler Guide. BY WM. G@. PATTEN. 489 The Diamond Sport; or, The Double Face of Bed Rock, 519 Captain mystery ; or, Five in One, 681 Da oe Ware the Sport from Denver. 687 Old BRombshell, the Ranger Detective, 604 Tron Fern, the Man of Fire, 619 The Boy Tramp Detective; or, The Double Grip Witness 629 Violet Vane, the Velvet Spon. 641 Dismal Dave’s Dandy Pard. 651 Bound Boy Frank, the Young Amateur Detective, 66% Violet Vane’s Victory. 682 Wild Vulcan, the Lone-Range Rider, 698 Violet and Dalay, the Posy Pards. BY MAJOR E. L. 8ST. VRAIN, 292 Sancho Pedro, the Boy Bandit. 801 Leadville Nick, the Boy Sport. rr sensor Mahe, : e Vigilante Pulses. rimatone Bob, and His tning Hi uartette. 852 Tombatone Tom, the ‘Auiabas Bow of % Sasa 859 Duranre Dave, the Young Chamrion Wrestler. 871 Kingbolt Chria, the Young Hard-Shell Detective. B80 Avalanche Alf, the Foothills Guide. 890 Jaguar Joe, of the Mountain Mail-Line. BY EDWARD 8, ELLIS, 6 Bill Biddon, Tene, 8 Seth Jones; or, The Captives of the Frontier. © Nat Todd; or, The Fate of the Sioux Captive. ‘rne Frontier Angel. 98 The Boy Miners; or, The Enchanted Island, 182 The Hunted Hunter; or, The Strange Horseman, 254 The Half-Blood; or, The Panther of the Plains. 271 The Huge Hunter; or, The Steam Prairie Man, BY MAJOR LEWIS W. CARSON, #278 The Three Trap) era; or, The Mountain Monster, 288 Indian Joe; or, The White Spirit of the Hills, BY CAPT. MARK WILTON, 256 Young Kentuck: or, The Red Lasso, 270 Blizzard Ben; or, The Riot at Keno Camp, 286 Josh, the Boy Tenderfoot. BY BRACEBRIDGE NEMYNG. se Island wi pa ag rst ours Family. 9 e Oaptain of the Club; or. The Rival 101 Jack Harkaway in New Yerk. be tat BY MAJOR NENRY B. STODDARD, Ex-Scout. 806 Neck-Tie Ned; or, The Dug-Out Pards, 846 Rapier Raphael; or, The Swordsmen of Zaca 891 Kid-Glove Kit, the Dandy of the Rockies, o08 Kid ete Man sna Pard: ey The Gold King. M “Powe p an-Aunter? or, The Gol A 505 Powell’s Pard; or, The OunsAeaed rae Gulch Mystery. BY CAPTAIN FRED. WHITTAKER. 18 The Sea-Cat; or, The Witch of Darien. 29 The Dumb Page; or, The Doge’s Daughter. 48 Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider. 150 Lance and Lasso; or, The Children of the Chaco. 154 The Sword Hunters; or, The Land of the Elephant Riders, 159 The Lost Captain; or, Skipper Jabex Coffin’s ise, 200 The Boy Bedouina; or, The Brothers of the Plumed Lanse, 214 Wolfgang, the Robber of the Rhine. 249 Milo Romer the Animal King; or, Round the World, & The r Tamer ; or, The League of the Jungle, 1 Black Nick, the Demon Rider. 95 Oalifornia Joe's War Trail. al BY JOSEPH E, BADGER, JR. 2 Yellowstone Jack}; or, The Trapper. 48 Black John, the Road-Agent; or, The Outlaw’s Retreed 65 Murricane Bill; or, Mustang Sam and His Pard, 119 Mustang rg rs The King of the Plains, 186 Night-lianwk Kit; or, The Daughter of the Ranch, 144 Dainty Lance the Boy Sport. 151 Panther Paul; or, Dainty Lance to the Rescue, 160 The Black Giant; or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy, 168 Deadly Dash; or, Fighting Fire with Fire. 184 The Boy ‘Trailers ; or, Dainty Lance on the War-Pail 208 The Boy Pards; or, Dainty Lance Unmaaks. 211 Crooked Cale, the Caliban of Celestial City. 810 The Barranca W olf; or, The Beautiful Decoy. 819 The Black Rider; or, The Horse-Thieves’ Leagaa, 885 Old Double Fist; or, The Strange Guide 855 ‘The King ot the Wooda: or. Daniel Boone’s Lact Trally 449 Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective. ; 625 Chincapin Dan, the Boy Trailer. 677 Chineapin Dan’s Secon Trail, 688 Chincapin Dan’s Home Stretch, BY W. J. HAMILTON, 68 The Red Brotherhood ; or, The Twelve Avenger, 66 Single Hand} or, A Life for a Life. 2 Mad Tom W eastern, the Texan Ranger. 887 Ben Bird, the Cave King; or, Big Pete’s Scoop. BY JACK FARRAGUT, 815 Ned, the Cabin Boy. 820 The Sea Sorceress}; or, The Boy Skipper, BY LIFUT. i, D. PERRY, U. 8, N. 176 The Boy Runaway; or, The Buccaneer of the Bay, 180 The Sea Trailer; or, A Vow Well Kept. 192 Oaptain Kit; or, The Mystery of Montauk Point, BY COL, A. F. MOLT, 899 Black Buckakin; or, The Masked Men of Death Canyegy i 419 Kenneth, the Knife-King. 485 Little Lightfoot, the Pilot of the Woods. 678 Rela Renwood, the Lightning Express Detective, 691 Headlight Harry’s Haul. BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID, Blue Dick; or, The Yellow Chief’s Vengeance. The Land Pirates; or, The League of Devil’s Island, The lielplesa Liand; or, Backwoods Retribution, The Gold-seeker Guide? or, The Lost Mountain, "BY FREDERICK DEWEY 818 Cimarron Jack, the King-Pin of Rifle-Shots, 478 Tangemund, the Desert Detective. 642 The Canyon Parda. BY ARTHUR ©, GRISSOM, 440 Little Foxfoot, the Gold Bowie Kid, 558 The Sure-Shot Pards. 621 Truthful James, the “Pecoollar’” Man. BY LIEUT. A. K. SIMS, 546 Captain Cactus, the Chaparral Cock, 568 The Dandy of Dodge. 576 The Silver Sport. 588 Saffron Sol, the Man With a Shadow 689 Tom-Cat and Pard; or, The Dead Set at Silver City, 601 Happy Mans, the Dutch Mtg = 611 Bildne Barnacle, the Detective Hercules, 622 Texas Tom-Cat’s Triad 681 Tom Cat’s Terrible Task, 688 Tom-Cat’s Triumph; or, Black Tvan’s Great Combine, 646 Cowboy Gid, the Cattle-Range Detective. 657 W arbiing William, the Mountain Mountebank, 665 Jolly Jeremiahy the Plains Detective, 676 Bignal Sam, the Lookout Scout. 689 Billy, the Gypsy Spy. MISCELLANEOUS AUTHORS, 4 The Wild-lorse Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Rela 029 Frederick Whittaker, ® Adventures of Baron Munchausen, 12 Gulliver’s Travels, By Dean Swift, i 14 Aladdin; or, The Wonderful Lamp. 16 Robinson Crusoe. (27 Illustrations.) 18 Sindbad the Sailor. His Seven Voyages. 22 The Sea Serpent; or, The Boy Robinson Crusee, By Juan | Lewis. 88 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, The Red Pirates of tho Carribees. By 8S, W. Pierce. * 86 The Boy Clown; or, The Arena Queen. By F 8, Fian, 8S Ned Wylde, the Boy Scout, By Texas Jack. | 61 The Boy Rifesy; or, The Yadergronne Camp. By A.C. Irons, 95 phe Rival Hever! or, The Freebooters of the Mississippi. jeut.-Col, Hazeltine, 98 Robin Hleod, the Uatiawes Earl; or, The Merry Men of Green. 1. Prof. Gilderaleeve. 105 Old Ru . tn Hunter; or, The Crow Captive, By Captain’ Hamilton Holmes. 112 ad Wuntery; or, the Cave of Death. By Burton 124 LY pedonsge t Hexant or, The Young Champion, By 128 The Young Privateers or, The Pirate’s Stronghold, By ish. 148 Pa ga z or, The Adventures of a Friendless Boy, By J, \ der Patten. ea7 pay Darrell, Tra’ per; or, The Green Ranger of the Yel- lowstone, By Edward Emerson. 261 Fe « Fearnaught the New Y irk Boy. By@, L, Atkem, 266 Kilib'ar, the Guides or, Davy Crockett’s ked Trail? Ensii . D. Warren. 298 Reed aw, the One-Eyed Trapper; or, The Maid ot the cus,’ By Captain Comstock. , s17 Peacock Fete. the Lively Lad from Leadville. By Liew | tenant ire ore. 888 The Sky Detectives or, A Boy’s Fight for Life and Honors } By Maior Mickey Free. \ 850 Rea Ralph, the River Rover; or, The Brother's Re venge. By Ned Buntline. ) H 865 Raltimore Ren the Bootblack Detective, By A, PB, | 874 Gold-Duat Tom or, Ben's Double Match, 6H $76 Callfornin Joe's First Trafl, By Colonel Thema 418 Billy Rombahell, the Clif Ct wae. : Illy Rombshell, the Mimber. By F.8. , 425 The Binck Ship. By John 8 Warner. 7 4 Comanche Dick and Hix Three Invincibles By Henry J. Thomas. B28 Wizard-Arm, the Dandy Sport, By Arthur F. Hole \ 582 The Cowboy Duke. By Edwin Brooke Forrest, 552 el_the Athlete. By David Druid, ! 585 Will Waters, the Boy Ferret. By H. Enton- 682 Ths Dead Detective’s Double. By Gerald Cariten { A New Inaue Every Tuesdays “The Half-Dim sale by all newsdoalers, five cents per copy, or cont eAirans PRie ot six cowta each. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, Now Wowk, |

Page 16

BEADLE'’S«H ALF- DIME* LIBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers, BY EDWARD L, WHEELER. Deadwood Dick Novels. 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road. 20 Deadwood Dick’s Defiance; or, Double Daggers. 28 Deadwood Dick in Disguise; or, Buffal) Ben 85 Deadwood Dick in His Castle. 42 Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza; o;, The . «antom Miner. 49 Deadwood Dick in Danger; or, Omaha Oll. 57 Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar, 78 Deadwood Dick on Deck; or, Calamity ¢ me, the Heroine. a> Bronwees piek's 4 ron or, Corduroy Charlie, eadwoo ek in Leadville, ee Reoqsees poke ae yw oh ‘lke Double Cross Sign. endwo ek as Detective, 129 Deadwood Dick’s Double; or, The Gorgon’s Gulch Ghost. 188 Deadwood Dick’s Home Base; or, Blonde Bill. 149 Deadwood Dick’s Big Strike; or, A Game of Gold. 156 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood: or, The Picked Party. 195 Deadwood Dick’s Dream; or, The Rivals of the Road. 201 Deadwood Dick’s Ward; or, ‘The Black Hill’s Jezebel. +t penawoes ee ry ' or, wear Jane’s Adventure. eadwoo ck’s Dena deal. 221 Deadwood Dick's Death-Plant. 282 Gold-Duat Dick. A Romance of Roughs and Toughs, 3 pend weet wicks pivide Fe Eee Spirit of Swamp Lake. eadwood ck’s Death Trall. 809 Deadwood Dick’s Deal; or, fhe Gold Brick of Oregon, B21 Deadwood Dick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats. 847 Deadwood Dick’s Ducata; or, Days in the Diggings, a! Raia hae Ap they age or, The Terrible Vendetta, eadwo ck’a Claim. 405 Deadwood Dick In Dead City. 410 Deadwood Dick’s Dinmonda. 421 Deadwood Dick in New York; or, A “Cute Case, prt ng galt | ce Sg gp or, The Chained Hand, eadwoo ck, Jr, 448 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Defiance. 458 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Full Hand. 459 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Bic Round-Up. 465 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Racket at Claim 10, A471 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Corral; or, Bozeman Bill. a:¢ ey eee | on $P m ox Betensirer » y Oo ck, ° end A 491 Deadweed Diek, Jr.'s, Cantpaatea ess peedwase pene Say te guhoritance, 0 Deadwood ck r.’a iggings. 508 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Deliverance, 615 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Protegee. 522 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Three. 529 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Danger Ducks. ess Seg acet wicks Sat ot eh Hunt, endwoo ck, Jr., in Texas. Sas Rocawoed Picky Sr eae Woven > eadwoo ek r., on « Mettle. 554 Deadwood Dick; Jr. in Gotham, 561 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Boston. 244 peedweed pie 5 ~ TF enndetgkin, eadwoo ck, Jr., in cago, 578 Deadwood Dick. Jr., Afloat. 584 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Denver. 590 Deadwood Dick, Jdr.’s, Decree, B56 Tentveed Dick? ¥ei}'at Ooeey taek eadw ood ek 4 Joney Islan $06 Deadwood Dick. Jr2s, Leadville Lays 612 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Detroit. poy eee end Dice os = ys om end woo ck, Jr., in Nevada. 680 Deadwood Dick; Jr; in No Man's Land. endwoo ck r. er the Queer, 642 Deadwood Dick. Jr. in Buffalo. 648 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Chase Across the Continent 654 Deadwood Dick, Jr... Among the Smugglers, $66 Deadwood Dick? Jr: Boek in the Min endw ek, dr. ck in the nea, 672 Deadwood Dick, Jr. tn Durango; or, * Gathered In.” SEE Deni eecd Dik, See Memehes hh hae ent eadwo ek ie o 690 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s. Dollars. 695 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Danger Divide, Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler, 26 Cloven Hoof, the Buffalo Demon. 82 Bob Woolf’ or, The Girl Dead-Shot. 89 Death-Face, Detective; or, Life in New York, 45 Old Avalanche; or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigand, 58 Jim Bludsoe, Jr., the Boy Phenix. 61 Buckhorn Bill; or, The Red Rifle Team, 69 Gold Rifle, the Phaxpabooet: or, The Boy Detective, 80 Rosebud Hob; r, Nugget Ned, th- Knight, 84 Idyl, the Girl Miner3; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand, 88 pocenrs hh Phil; or, Rosebud Rob’s Reappearance, 92 Canada Chet} or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp, 96 Watch-Eye ; or, Arabs and Angels of a Great City, 118 Jack Moyle the Young Speculator. 117 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective. 121 Cinnamon Chip, the Girl Sport. 125 Bonanza Bill, Miner, 188 Bows Bob the King of Bootblacks, 141 Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent. 145 Captain Ferret, the New York Detective. 161 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. 177 Nobby Nick of Nevada; or, The Sierras Scamps, 181 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo 209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective. 218 Fritz to the Front; or, The Ventriloqust Hunter, 226 Snoozer, the Boy Sharp: or, The Arab Detective, 286 Apollo Bill, the Trail Tornado. 240 Cyclone K it, the Young Gladiator. yey Sierra Sam, the Frontier Ferret, Sierra Sam’s Secret; or, The Bloody Footprints, 258 Sierra Saw’s Pard; or, The Ange! of Big Vista, 258 Sierra Sain’s Seven; or, The Stolen Bride. 278 Jumbo Joe, the Koy Patrol: or, Phe Rival Heirs, 277 Denver Doll, the Detective Queen. 281 Denver Doli’s Victory. 285 Denver Doll's Decoy ; or. Little Bill’s Bonanza, 291 Turk the Boy Ferret. 296 Denver Doll’s Drift; or. The Road Queen, 299 A No. 1, the Dashing Toll-Taker. 808 ’Liza Jane, tbe Girl Miner; or, the Iron-Nerved Sport. 825 Kelley, Mickey & Oo,, the Detectives of Philadelphia, oor Little Qu! ek-Shot} or, The Dend Face of Daggersville. ensarce Kits of @ Mysterious Miner, angaroo Kit Racket. 4 9 848 M itan Mike, the Bo Blood. Ben Vrek Clase Fred the Gent from Gopher. Life Lottery, reka the Gold-Gatherery; or, e 872 Yreka Jim's Prize. Ags 878 Nabob Neds or, The Secret of Slah City. B82 Cool Ki, the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengeance, 885 Yreka Jim's Joker}; or, The Rivals of Red Nose, R89 Bicycle Ren}; or. The Lion of Lightning Lode. pri i ets a e Nig! a ve. cas Hat H + the Base Ball Detective, Sam Slabaldes, the ar Bov Detective, k and Pal, Private the Slasher, Benidkin See, the Sparkler, 627 Tom + BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, ? The Piying Yankee}; or, The Ocean Ontcast. 17 Ralph Roy, the Boy Buccancer; or, The Fugitive Yacht, 24 Diamond Dirk Len The Mystery of the Yellowstone. 62 The Shadow Ship; or, The Rival Lieutenants. 75 The Boy Duelist; or, The Cruise of the Sea-Wolf, 102 Dick Dead-Eye, the Boy Smuggier. 111 The Sea-Devil 3 or, The Midshipman’s Legacy. 116 The Hussar Onptain 3_or, ‘he Hermit of Hell Gate, 197 Little Grits or, Bessie, the Stock-Tender’s Daughter. 204 Gold Plume; or, The Kid-Glove Sport, 216 Bison BIN, the Prince of the Reins. 222 Grit, the bravo Sport; or, The Woman Trailer, 229 Orimson Kate 3 or, The Cowboy’s Triumph, 287 Lone Star, the Cowboy Cope. 245 Merle, the Middy ; or, The Freelance Heir. 250 The Midshipman utineer or, Brandt, the Buccaneer, 264 The Floating F eather; or, Merle Monte’s Treasure. 269 The Gold Ship; or, Merle, the Condemned. 276 Merle Monte’s Cruise; or, “The Gold Ship” Chase, 250 Merle Monte’s Fate; or, Pearl, the Pirate’s Bride. 284 The Sea Marauder; or, Merle Monte’s Pledge. 287 Billy Blue-Eyes, the Boy Rover of the Rio Grande. 804 The Dead Shot Dandy ; or, Benito, the Boy Bugler. 808 Keno Kits or, Dead Shot Dandy’s Double. 814 The Mysterious Marauder; or, The Boy Bugler’s Trail. 877 Bonodel, the Buy Rover; or, The Flngless Schooner. 888 The Indian Plilot; or, The Search for Pirate Island. 887 Warpath WILL, the Boy Phantom, 898 Seawalf, the Boy Lieutenant. 402 Isodor, the Young Conspirator; or, The Fatal League. 407 The Boy Insurgent} or, The Cuban Vendetta. 412 The Wild Yachtamany or, The War-Clouu’s Cruise, 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. 488 A Cabin Boy’s Luck; or, Tie Corsair. 487 The Sea Raider. 441 The Ocean Firefly ; or, A Middy’s Vengeance, 446 Haphazard rae &, or, Tne Scapegrace of the Sea, 450 Wizard Will: or, The Boy Ferret of New York. 454 Wizard Will’s Street Scouta, 462 The Born tiulde; or, The Sailor Boy Wanderer, 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Conster. 474 Flora; or, Wizard Will’s Vagabond Pard, 488 Ferrets Afloat; or, Wizard Will's Last Case. 487 Nevada Ned, the Revolver Kanger. 495 Arizona doe the Boy Pard of Texas Jack, 497 Buck Taylor, King ot the Cowboys. 508 The Royal Middy; or, The Shark and the Sea Cat 507 The Hunted Midshipman, 511 The Outlawed Middy. 520 Buckskin BILI, the Comanche Shadow, 525 Brothers in Buckskin, 580 The Buckskiu Bowers. 585 The Bue skin Rovers. 540 Captain Ku-Klux, the Marauder ot the Rio. 545 Lieutenant Leo, the Son of Lafitte. 550 Lafitte’s Legacy; or. The Avenging Son, 555 The Creole Corsair. 560 Pawnee BILL, the Prairie Shadower. 565 Kent Kingdon, the Card King. 570 Camille, the Card Queen. 575 The Surgeon-Scout Detective. 580 The Outcast Cadet; or, The False Detective. 586 The Buckskin Avenger. 591 Delmonte, the Young Sea Rover. 597 The Young Texan Detective. 602 The Vagabond of the Mines. 607 The Rover Detective; or, Keno Kit’s Champions, 617 Ralph, the Dead-Shot Scout; or, The Rio Raiders, 644 The Hercules Highwaymun, 650 Butterfly Billy, the Pony Kider Detective; or, Buffalo Bill’s Boy Para, 656 Butterfly Billy’s Man Hunt. 662 Butterfly Billy’s Bonanza. 668 The Buccancer Midshipman. 674 The Wizard Sailor; or, Red Ralph, the Rover. 679 The Sen Shadower; or, The Freebooter’s Legacy. 686 Orlando, the Ocean Free Flag; or, The Tarnished Name. 692 The Rival Sharps; or, Redfern, the Secret Service Scout, 697 The Scarlet Sombrero; or, The Sharp from Texas. BY BUFFALO BILL (Hon. Wm, F, Cody) 8 Kansas King}; or, The Red Right Hand. 19 The Phantom Spy: or, The Pilot of the Prairie. 55 Deadly-Eye, the Unknown Scout. 68 Border Robin Hood; or, The Prairie Rover. 158 Fancy Frank of Colorado; or The Trupper’s Trust, _BY CHARLES MORRIS, 118 Will Somers, the Boy Detective, 122 Phil Hardy, the Boss Boy. 126 Picayune Pete; or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective, 180 Detective Dick; or, The Here in Rags. 142 Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective, 147 WILL Wildtire, the Thoroughbred. 152 Bleek Beas, Will Wildfire’s Racer. 57 Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. 162 Will Wildfire in the Woods, 74 Bob Rockett; or, Mysteries of New York. 79 Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner, 88 The Hidden ig or, Will Wildfire’s Revenge, 187 Fred Halyard, the Life Boat Boy; or, The Smugglers, 189 Bob Rockett; or, Driven to the Wall. < 196 Shadowed ; or, Bob Kockett’s Fight for Life, 206 Dark Paul, the Tiger King. 212 Dashing Dave, the Dandy Detective. 220 Tom Tanner; or, The Black Sheep of the Flock, 225 Sam Charcoal the Premium Darky. 2435 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy 242 The Two * Bloods”; or, Shenandoah Bill ano His Gang. 252 Dick Dashaway ¢ or, A Dakota Boy in Chicago, 262 The Young Sharps: or, Rollicking Mike’s Hot Tratl 274 Jolly Fim, the Detective Apprentice. 289 Jolly Jim’ Jobs or, The Young Detective, 298 The Water-Hound; or, The Young Thoroughored. 805 Dashaway, of Dakota; or, A Western Lad in Quaker City, 824 Ralph Ready, the Hotel Boy Detective. 841 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective. - 858 The Reporter-PBetective ; or, Fred Flyer’s Blizzard, B67 Wide-Awake Joe; or, A Boy of the Times, 879 Larry, the Leveler; or. The Bloods of the Boulevard, 408 Fireity Jack, the River-Rat Detective. 428 The Lost Fingers or, The Entrapped Cashier, 428 Fred Flyer. the Reporter Detective. 482 Invincible Logan, the Pinkerton Ferret. 456 Billy Rriek, the Jolly Vagavond. Wide-Awake Jerry, Detective; or, Entombed Alive. 479 Netectiv ? or, The Mystery of Frank Hearty. 48% Wild Dick Racket. 501 Roots, the Boy Fireman: or, Teo Sharp for the Sharper, 68 e Secret Service Roy Detective. 596 J 3 the Kid; or, A Lamb Among Wolves. ruce of Arkanana: or, The Wolf in the Fold, Se 55 Plucky Paul, the Roy Speculator. 67 Bob ond Sam, tne Dany Ditectiver my BY J, ©. COWDRIOK, 860 Silver-Mask, the Man of Mystery. 869 Shasta, the Gold King; or, For Seven Years Dead. 420 The Detective’s Apprentice; or, A Boy Withou: » Name, 424 Cibuta Jonny}; or, Red-Hot Times at Ante Bar, 489 Sandy Sam, the Street Scout, 467 Disco Dan, the Daisy Dude. 490 Broadway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo. 506 Redlight Ralvhe the Prince of the Road, 5614 Broadway Billy’s Boodle. 524 The Engineer Detective. 586 Broadway Billy’s ‘ Difikilty.” 5648 Mart, the Night Express Detective. 557 Broadway Billy’s Peath Racket. 571 Air-Line Luke the Young Enginee. 579 The Chimney Spy; or, Broadway Billy’s Surprise-Party, 592 The Boy Pinkerton. 605 William 0 Broadway; or, The Boy Detective’s Big Inning, 615 Fighting Marry the Chief of Chained Cyclone. 628 Bronadvay Billy’s Dead Act. 640 Barebsek Beth, the Centaur of the Circle. 47 Typevilter Tilly, the Merchant’s Ward. 659 Moonlight Morgan, the ‘‘ Pizenest ”? Man of Ante Bar. 669 Broadway Billy Abroad. 675 Broadway Billy’s Best; or, Beating San Francisco's Yirest 687 Broadway Billy in Clover. 696 Broadway Billy in Texas. BY T. ©. WARBAUGII, 28 Nick o” tho Nigh; or, The Boy Spy of "76. 87 The Hidden Lodge; or The Littl: Hunter, 47 N ightingele Nat} or, Tne Forest Captains, 64 Dand ack 3 or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trai, 82 Kit Harefoot the Wood-Hawk. 94 Midnight Jack ; or, The Boy Trapper. 106 Old Frosty, the Guide; or, The White Queen. 128 Kiowa Charley the White Mustanger. 189 Judge Lynch, Jr,; or, The Boy Vigijante. 155 Gold Tr’ er, the Sport; er, The Girl Avenger. 169 Tornado Tom 3 or, Injun Jack From Red Core. 188 Ned Temple, the Border Boy. 198 Arkansayw ; or, The Queen of Fate’s Revenge, 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. 215 Captain Bullet; or, Little Topknot’s Crusade. 281 Plucky Phil; or, Rosa, the Rei Jezebel. 241 Bill Bravo; or, Tie Roughs of the Rockies, 255 Captain Apoli:, we King-Pin of Bowie, 267 The Buckskin Detective. 279 Old Winch; or, The Buckskin Desperadoes, 294 **ynamite Dan; or, The Bowle Blade of Gochetopa. 802 The Mountain Detective; or, The Trigger Bar Bullys 816 Old Eclipse, Trump Card of Arizona, 826 The Ten Purds: or, The Terror of Take-Notice, 886 Big Benson; or, The Queen of the La-so. 845 Pitiless Matt; or, Red Thunderbolt’s Secret. 856 Cool Sam aud Pard; or The Terrible Six. 866 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective. 886 Captain Cutlass; or, ‘Ihe Brccaneer’s Girl Foe. 896 Rough Rob; or, The Twin Champions of Blue Blazes, 411 The Silken Lasso: or, The Rose of Ranch Robin, 418 Felix Fox, the Boy Spotter. 425 Texas Trump. the Border Rattler. 486 Phil Flash, the New York Fox. 445 The City Vampires; or, Ked Rolfe’s Pigeon. 461 One Against Fifty 3 or, The Last Man of Keno Bar. 470 The Boy Shadow; or, Felix Fox’s Hunt. A477? The Exceisior Sport; or, The Washington Spotter, 499 Single Sight, the One-Eyed Sport. 502 Branded Ben, the Night ferret. 512 Dodger Dick, the Wharf-Spy Detective. 521 Dodger Dick’s Best Dodge. et Re Lae Ap as fee ~ cag hs mee ger ik, the Doc erret. 548 Dodger Dick’s Double; or, The Rival Boy Detectives, 558 Dodger Dick’« Deaperate Case. 568 Dodger Dick, the Boy Vidocq. 578 The Two Shadows. 582 Dodger Dick’s« Prep. 594 Little Lon, the Street-Singer Detective. 610 @ld Skinner, the Gold Shark; or, Tony Sherp on Guard, 626 The Champion Pards. 687 Dick Doan, the Dock Boy Detective. 645 Kit, the Pavement Sharp. 658 Billy Bantam, the Boy Beagle. ; 671 Jersey Jed, the Bov Hustler; or, Shadowing the Shadowen 685 Happy Hugh, the Boy-Musician Detective. LATEST AND NEW ISSUES. 698 Old Crazy, the Man Without a Head; or, Lightheart Luke’s Clean Sweep. By Joseph E. Badger, dr. 699 Siraple Sim, the Broncho Buster; or, Playing the Fom for Big Stakes. By Lieut. A. K. Sims. 4 2700 Deadwood Dick. Jr.’a, Drops or, The Sojourn at Satan’s Spring. By Edward L. Wheeler. 201 Photograph Fred, the Camera Sharp; or, The Fight to the Finish. By T. C. Harbangh. is 702 Blue Jacket Bill; or. The Red Hat Rangers Red Hot Racket. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. < 708 Broadway Billy’s Brand; or. The New York Delegatee in Hard-up Camp, ‘By J. G. Cowdriek 704 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Jack-Poty or, Making Crookea Things Straight. Bv Edward L. Wheeler JX. 705 Violet Vane’a Vow; or, The Crafty Deteetive’s Craft. By Wm. G. Patten. 206 Tom Thistle, the Rosd-House Detective; or, The Harlem Sport’s Star-Faced Pacer. By Jo Pierce. , 7. 70? The Red Sombrero Rangers; or, Redfern’s Last Traid, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. fae 708 Licht-Heart Vute’s Legacy; or, The Lucky Lade Winning Hand, By_Jos. E. Radger, Jr. eau 709 The Curbatone Detective; or, Harry Hale’s Pix Beat. By Charles Morris. Pe 710 Deadwood Dick, Jr., In San Francisco} or, Koda Kate, the Snap Shot. By Edward L. Wheeler. te 711 Broadway Billy at Sante Fe; or, The Pard Detectives Clever Deal. By J. C, Cowdrick. | 712 The Meamerist Sport; or, The Mystified Detective. By Lieut. A. K. Sims, £18 Carl, the Mad Cowboys orfThe Lariat Queen. By Cob. Prentiss —— } dy March 24, 714 O1a Misery, the Man from Missourl; or, The Mystery of the Monnteln League. By Wm, G, Patten. Ready Maroh 31 215 Wide Awake Len, the Quaker City Ferret: or, Caging the Cormorants. Ly T. C, Harbaugh. heady April 1, A New Iasue Every Tuesday The Half- Dime Library 18 for sale by al. newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on Tecelot of six cents each. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York