Fame And Fortune Weekly (no. 1053) (1925 12 04)

Page 1

SRA rt inners A \I fi Ch J A 7) 4 tm | N a . AN rags STORIES “OPH get square with you!” snarled Steve, shaking his fist at the plucky boy. Jack gave him a dee : filant look as he dropped a coin in the newsboy’s hand. “Here's my last nickel,” — he said; “but you're welcome to it.” ripest

Page 2

Page 3

FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY Issued weekly—Subscription price, $4.00 per year! Canada, $4.50; Foreign, $5.00, Harry BH. Wolff, Publisher, ine., 166 West 23d - 3B . at treet, New York, N, Y. the Post-Office at New York, N. No. 1053 NEW. YORK, mtered as Second-Class Matter, Y., under the Act of March 3, 1879. DECEMBER 4, October 4, 1911 29 1926 1925 Price 8 Cents. HIS LAST NICKEL OR, WHAT IT DID FOR JACK RAND By A SELF-MADE MAN .. CHAPTER I.—Jack Rand and His Father. ' “Not another dollar, do you understand?” said Major Rand, angrily, to his son, a stalwart, good- looking boy of seventeen. “I consider an allow- ance of five dollars a week more than enough to supply all your wants.” ‘But, sir, Howard Edgerton’s father gives him | a dollars a week spending money,” protested ack. ; “T don’t care what Howard Edgerton’s father gives his son. He is at liberty to give him $100 a week if he chooses. That’s his business. For 2 boy of your years $260 a year is amply suffi- cient to squander on himself. At any rate, that’s all you will get from me,” said the major de- “ eidedly, as he wheeled around in his chair, took up the morning paper and began to read. _ Jack looked rather discontentedly at the five- dollar bill he had just received from his father. _ This was his regular weékly allowance which he had been in receipt of since his last birth- day. He received the money Monday morning’ and before Friday he was broke. His particular chum, Howard Edgerton, son of a prominent lawyer, _ Having ten dollars a week to spend on himself, made Jack, in his own estimation, feel like thirty cents. After looking at the bill for 2 moment or two, atthe some time turning the situation over in his mind, Jack said: Z “You give Florence all the money She wants, and you don’t pin her down to a regular allow- ance. _ “She’s fwo years older than you,” replied his father} without looking up from his paper. “Be- sides, she’s a girl, and neéds a lot of things. At any rate, she spends the money properly, which I doubt if you do.” ’ - “Tt takes two dollars of this‘ money to pay my dues at the boat club,” said the boy. “A dollar a week at the outside ought to be - enough for dues. That’s fifty-two dollars a year. _ How many members haye you in the club?” “Fifteen.” ; ~The major made a rapid mental calculation. “That amounts to $780 a year. What do you - @o with all that money?” “We spend it easily enough.” _.« “Yl wager you do,” replied his father, grimly. at be) td - “Then there’s our secret society. ‘The White Owls,” that costs another dollar a week.” “Upon my word, young man, you and your associates seem to be going the pace. How many organizations do you belong to?” asked his angry father.. : “That's all, sir.” “Well, after squandering three dollars in dues you still have a couple of dollars left. Isn’t that enough for you?” ; : _ “No, sir. It isn’t- half enough, especially as it’s vacation time. We row down to Saybrook three times a week, and Howard Edgerton, or Will Langdon, or Fred Bartling, or some other fel- low, treats to lunch. That costs more than two dollars itself.” “It seems to me you’re running around with a very extravagant set of boys,” the major said, in no very pleasant tone. “Who else have I to go with in my set?” “There are a lot of respectable boys in town you could associate with. Your schoolmates at the high school, for instance.” “They’re all right, in their way, but their folks are not well enough off for them to make any kind of showing alongside of Howard Edgerton, Will Langdon, and the other fellows I travel .— : with.” _“Then drop Howard Edgerton, and the rest of his class, and make friends with the boys whose tastes are not-so expensive.” “That wouldn’t do- at all, sir,” objected Jack. . “My sister and Flora Edgerton are chums. You. and mother call on the Edgertons, and the Lang- — dons, and the Bartlings, and the rest of the bunch who form the swell set here. It would look fine, wouldn’t it, for me to cut loose from the boys on the outside? I simply couldn’t do it. You’re rich. You can afford to give me ten dollars a week just as well as Howard’s father. You can- ie . “I don’t, want to hear any more on the sub- ject, do you hear?” snapped Major Rand, wrath- fully. “Five dollars is enough ‘for-you, and what is more, it’s. all you’re going to get. If you can’t make it do that isn’t my fault. Now, I wish you would zo, as I don’t care to be annoyed ‘any more this morning.” Jack took the hint and walked slowly out of PR Se Syme se Sais

Page 4

se price for it, then,” remarked the other, 2 : HIS LAST NICKEL the library. He was rather a proud boy, in a way, and would: not get down on his knees to anybody, even his father. Major Wilford Rand was a graduate of West Point Military Acedemy, and had served in the army a matter of twenty years, chiefly in the engineer corps. He finally left the service of Uncle Sam to accept a position chief engineer for a com- - pany that was buildi ing a railroad in Chili, After five years’ residence in South America he re- turned to the United States and became chief en- gineer of a big political job in. Pennsylvania. He acquired considerable wealth out of his en- gineering operations and finally bought a fine estate on the Connecticut shores of the Sound and retired from active work. He-had two chil- dren—-Florence and John, and it is with the latter that this story deals. Jack Rand was a fine boy, all things considered, and much more of a man than his father supposed him to be. Jack’s re- quest for a raise in his: allowance might have ‘met with more consideration from-his father had he not brought it forward at a rather unfortu- nate time. The major had invested a goed part of his money in a copper proposition. some few months previous, from which he expected large results, and it happened he had received a letter that morning from the secretary of the com- pany which greatly disappointed him from a financial standpoint, consequently he had some- thing of a grouch on, and that was the snag Jack unwittingly ran up against. CHAPTER Il.—Jack -Overhears a Conversation = and Gets Into a Bad Fix. Jack not being aware that his father was a bit “off his perch” that morning, walked out of the house under the impression that he wasn’t getting a square deal. Instead of going over to the Point, on Lawyer Edgerton’s property, where _the boys met every morning at the boat-house, he walked off in the opposite direction till he came to a small patch of woods. He sat down on a fallen trunk among the bushes and was soon lost in thought. After a time he was aroused by the sound of voices, and became aware that two men were approaching along the path through the wood. When they came in sight Jack faw that each carried a heavy suit-case. “I guess we'll take a rest somewhere ae here,” said one of the men. “This case of mine is plaguey heavy.” “Same here,” replied the other. They looked about them and selected a couple of stones within ear-shot of Jack. “We made a pretty good haul at the lawyer’s house last night,” said the first speaker. “I tell you, Bill, these suburban residences are the finest kind. of cribs to crack.” ; “That's what they are, Jim,” replied his com- : = panion, with a grin. “The plate I’ve got in this case is the real stuff—solid every ounce of it,” said Jim, whose other name was Coney. - “Solomon ought to come up with a etna iit e een he don’t get it, or ‘my name isn’t Bill “You bet he won’t get it. I’d sooner dump it into the East River than let him get the cream ~ of everything we take him,” answered Jim Coney. Jack Rand listened to the foregoing bit of con- versation in bewildered astonishment. Apparently these two men were burglars, although they ap- peared to be quite gentlemanly looking. He won- dered whose house it was that had been robbed during the night. One of the men had remarked — that it was a lawyer's. There were two or three lawyers living in the Beechwood district. Howard Edgerton’s father was one; Will Lang- : don’s father was another, and there was a third named Davenport, who was a big cororation law- yer, and lived about midway between the Sound and Fairhaven. It immediately occurred to Jack that it was his duty to follow these rascals and if possible secure their arrest. “We have plenty of time to catch the 10:15 local for New York,” said Coney, “and when we reach the city we’ll be safe.” | “We're safe enough anyway,” replied Squires. “We've represented ourselves as commercial travelers, and no one would suspect us to be otherwise.” “Open your case and take out that diamond pendant,” said Coney. “I want to see how it locks in the daylight.” Bill Squires obligingly consented to let him 5 see it, “That’s a swell ornament, all right,” remarked Jim. “How much do you suppose it’s worth?” “T should think it cost a couple of thousand eases, easy enough,” “We. ought to have it valued if we can before we show it to Solomon. That old devil would swear it wasn’t worth over. $500, and give up a ~ couple of hundred on it. Then he’d break it up and. sell the diamonds to some firm in Maiden © : Lane he does business with on the. quiet.” “Well, let's be goin’. The train will be along in a short time,” said Squires. They got up and were about to resume their way when Jim Coney’s sharp eyes saw the top of Jack's hat through the bushes. He dropped: his suit-case with an imprecation, dashed into the underbrush, and had the boy by the arm before he realized that he had been seen. Dragging Jack out into the path he said to his companion; “Here's a chap that’s been spyin’ on us and listenin’ to our talk, Bill.” “The deuce he has!” exclaimed Squires, setting down his suit-case in some consternation. “Come, now, own up, you young: monkey,” said Coney. “You’ve been follerin’ us.” “No, I haven't,” replied Jack, stoutly. “Then what were you doin’ hidin’ in ‘them bushes ?”. “T don’t know that it’s any of your business,” replied Jack, defiantly. i “You'll find it is our business. You’ve been listenin’ to what we said. Don’t deny it, ‘cause it Fi do you any good. I caught you in the ac “Ym not denying it. I did hear what you both — said,” answered Jack. “Do you hear that, Bill? He admits that he's” 7 been playin’ the spy.” i! ¥ ‘Did you hear all we said’ while we were site i tin’ on'them rocks?” asked Squires, cane Ir hana ty admitted ase

Page 5

“Bil Squires drew a long breath and looked at Jack in no pleasant way. 2 “Then you: know what we’ve got in them suit-— cases, eh?” an : “J can guess,” answered the boy. «Who are you, anyway? What’s your name ad The boy remained silent. : “What are we goin’ to do, Bill? We can’t let this chap’ go and blab on us,” said Coney. “What will we do with him? Tie him to one of these trees?” see 55 “First of all we'll tie up his jaw so he can’t yell,” said Squires. “You hold him while I at- Es tend to him.” <4 Yanking Jack’s handkerchief out of his pocket a he gagged him by tying it around his mouth and securing the ends at the back of his head. “When we came through this wood yesterday there were a couple of empty box-cars:on the sid- ing yonder. If they’re there now we'll put this young feller in one of them and shut the door on him. That'll give us time to light out by the - train: -Now, I'll tie his-arms behind his back.” Jack, however, was plucky, and objected to be- ‘ing further maltreated. He suddenly wrenched himself. free from Jim Coney’s grasp, gave the rascal a back-hand blow in the face that made him stagger, “and made a break to escape. Squires was after him like .a shot. Jack was nimble on his feet and would have eluded him, but that Coney picked up a good-sized stone and lh bat eee ‘Yet it drive at him. It caueht. Jack in the back of the head, and he didn’t remember anything more to his senses and found himself tied hand and -. foot and stretched out in the interior of a freight-car which was moving ‘along at a fair -» vate of speed. ; ‘ aT It was some minutes before the bewildered boy . _ realized where he was and what had happened to him. Then he recolleeted what had taken place in the wood, and how he had been stricken down by a blow from behind. His head felt pretty sore where the stone had raised a good-sized lump. Jack had no idea, however, as to what it was that laid him out. While working at his bonds he wondered whether he was being car- ried toward New York or in the opposite direc- tion. Although the car door was closed tight, the. interior was by no means dark, for the sunlight entered through’ the crack in the top of both of the side doors, Jack was not particularly depressed by his _ predicament. He regarded himself as the hero of an adventure that would make a fine story to tell his friends when he got back té Beechwood. - away with their booty. He found that the job of getting his hands out of limbo was not an easy one. He remembered how the hero of many story book he had yead managed to release mself under similar circumstances without a great deal of trouble, but the reality in his case L not very enco’ i which indicat Fess that the two crooks had intended a for several hours afterward, when he came’ _ He was sorry that the burglars had gotten ging. — : His Po oat io i to hold tighter than wax, 3 a him to stay tied until released by somebody other than himself. The car jogged along at the rate _of about .ten miles an hour for a couple of hours, and then its speed was reduced as the long freight train ran on a siding to get out of the way of a passengér following. There was a wait of half an hour, which seemed endless to Jack, and then he heard the noise.of an approaching train. It rushed past a few feet with a roaring -and clattering sound, and was gone. Then the freight moved on its course again. © Another hour passed slowly away and the train pulled into another siding to allow'a local pas- senger to pass. In fact, the freight remained. over an hour at rest until three trains had gone by, when to Jack’s relief it went on again. He was now ravenously hungry, and he began to fear that he would be half-starved before he was released from his unenviable position. Once more he tried to free his hands from the rope that encircled his wrists. Finally he succeeded in loosening the rope a little, and this encouraged him to persevere. During all this time the light faded out of the car, leaving it in darkness. At length he managed to work one hand out of the noose, and the, other easily followed it; but it seemed as if he never could bring his arms around in front. They felt dead and use- less, just as if they were paralyzed. This sen- sation, however, did not last long, and as soon HIS LAST NICKEL | a as he got them into motion they were soon lively _ enough again. He tore the handkerchief gag from his mouth, and this afforded him a blessed relief. He thrust his hand into his trousers pocket, got out his penknife and quickly cut the cord that held his ankles together. The next thing he did was to try the sliding doors of the ear in turn, They were fastened. He was doomed to remain a prisoner until somebody let him out. He was so hungry now that he would have | eaten anything in the shape of food, even if it had been but half-cooked and of. the poorest _ quality. He had never been so famished in his life. e train continued to run along for a con- siderable time without another stop, and Jack | began to wonder if it ever was going to stop. — “Seems as if I ought to be near Boston by this time, if we’re going there,” self. : There-is an end to everything, however, and at-last the train ran into the Mott Haven freight . yards in the lower part of the Bronx above the Harlem River. The car in which Jack jwas a prisoner, along with many more, was shunted off on a side track and left. The boy, however, | didn’t know that the car had reached its desti- nation. He waited and waited for it to go on again, but it didn’t stir. At length he heard sev- eral men passing the car and talking together. He sprang for the door and began shouting and kicking at it. “Hello!” exclaimed one of the men, “There’s” somebody in that car.” : “Sounds like a boy’s voice,” remarked one of the others. The door on that side was not locked in the regular way, but the hasp had been secured with a piece of wood. Bill Squires had done that after he and his companion had tumbled the boy into the car,-so that he couldn’t get out when. he came to his senses. At the time they put — the freight-car they had no idea that it Jack in — a art he said to him~- —

Page 6

was going to be picked up in a short time by a freight-train bound for New York. The man who had spoken first climbed up, released the hasp and pushed the door partly open. Jack Rand immediately appeared in the open- ing. © XS you’ve been stealing a ride, eh?” laughed one of the men, “and somebody locked you in.” “No, I haven't been stealing a ride,” replied Jack, who resented such a supposition. “I was knocked on the head by a pair of burglars in a wood up near Fairhaven, chucked into this car and locked in. When I came to my senses I found the car in motion, and it’s been on the move more or less ever since that time.” “How long have you been in that car?” asked the man, curiously. ; : “Rver since some time this morning.” “What’s your name?” “Jack Rand.” “Do you live in Fairhayen?” - -"#Tn that neighborhood.” Bee. “Well, you’re some distance from home now.” “Where am 1? In Boston?” - “Boston! No, you’re in the Mott Haven freight he yards . ; s “Mott Haven!” exclaimed Jack, who had heard of the name. “That’s in New York, isn’t it?” -- “Yes, in the Bronx, near the Harlem River.” “Then [ haven’t traveled as far as I thought J. had.” “Well, jump out.” : . Jack ‘sprang to the ground, mighty glad to get out of the car. - ; “What are you going to do?” asked the man, - Jook at all like a boy who would steal a ride on a freight-car. ; ~ “Get to a restaurant as soon as I can. Do you ‘mow where there’s one handy? I haven’t eaten @ mouthful since I had my breakfast at eight - o'clock, and I’m hungry enough to eat two meals at once.” ; “Come along with us. We’re going to our sup- “ner. There’s a small restaurant two blocks from here.” ~ 4“P}] go,” replied Jack. es - “You say a couple of burglars knocked you on the head and locked you in that car?” said the man. “That's right,” answered Jack, “How de you know they were burglars?” “heard them talking about having robbed a - house up our way last night, and they had a pair of suit-cases filled with plunder.” "They caught you watching them, I suppose, and did you up to prevent you from giving them away to the police; is that it?”- “That's about the size of it.” -“] suppose you'll take a train back home after supper. You can get one at the Mott Haven station by and by.” aa “1 haven’t decided just what I’m going to do. Js there a cheap hotel around this neighborhood ? - J don’t care about going back till the morning, at any rate.” : a house not far from the res t a room for the night ‘me first rate.” © : inutes the: HIS LAST NICKEL who saw that Jack was well dressed and did not . Sot entered the cheap res: for - -saying that Howard could take it over to his— ad taurant where the three men were in the habit of taking their meals, and Jack sat down at the table with them. Four plates of pea soup were soon set before them, and the way Jack did pile in was a caution. a It was after ten o’clock when Jack and his - — new acquaintances left the restaurant. They pea him to the cheap “hotel,” much frequented y railroad men who had no homes, and the boy hired a room for the night, paying fifty cents in advance, which came out of his $5 bill. Fifteen minutes later he was sound asleep, al- though the bed was hard and the room not to ~ be compared with that occupied by the lowest © servant in his father’s house. a CHAPTER IV.—Jack Picks Up An Entertain- — ing Companion. : & hes Upaenad o\(h2 Ma? ie When Jack woke up next morning his first feel- ing was that of surprise on beholding his strange and-not very aristocratic surroundings. For the first time it occurred to him that his family would be greatly worried over his strange _ disappearance, and that it was wrong for him — to let them remain in that state. ; “I know what I'll do. I’ send mother word — that I’m in New York, and will be back after a ~ time. That will fix things up. I'll write to my | friend, Howard Edgerton, too, and tell him I’m on the track of the two burglars who robhed the lawyer’s house in Beechwood. That will make A fey 38 > re ean i hs Se ‘ Pike pia \ AN E him and the rest of the fellows wish they were with me. I'll make the letter strong. Tell them what the rascals did to me in the wood, and all, about the free ride I had-in the freight-car against my will. I’ll tell them this is only the beginning of my adventures. That I expect to — go through enough to make a first-class story. The fellows will be just green with envy, and a have the bulge on them all when I get back — ome.” oe : So when Jack finished his breakfast he got several sheets of writing paper, two envelopes — and two stamps. He told his mother that he was all right, and had concluded to stay away from home for a while, as his father wouldn’t give him enough pocket-money to hold his end up with his more fortunate associates, and he didn’t care to look small in their company. He told her not to worry about him, as he intended to make his own way in New York, and that he didn’t ask - _ any odds of any one. The letter to Howard. Edgerton was a lengthy one, and detailed the — whole of his adventures since he left his father’s library the previous morning.- He concluded by house and show it to his mother and sister, and wound up by remarking that he didn’t know when he would be home, as he had lost track ef the burglars and couldn’t tell when he was likely to meet them again. He mailed the two- letters at a corner mail-pox and then took~ elevated train downtown to see what New York __ looked like. His letters created a small sensa-

Page 7

HIS LAST the meantime Jack spent the most of his first day 3 the sights. As the afternoon wore away he be- _ gan to think about a lodging for the night. 2 As this capital only amounted to $3.50 now, he knew that he could hardly afford to patronize a ~ © hotel, so as the hero of a certain story he had ee - lately read had begun by hunting up a cheap 24 lodging for himself; Jack decided to follow ‘his example. : While sitting on a bench down at the Battery he got into conversation with a fairly well dressed young man of twenty who seemed to be taking the world pretty easy. 7 After a while he asked his new acquaintence if he could direct him to a respectable lodging- house somewhere in the city. “Nothing easier. If you’re not in a hurry V’ll _ take you up to where I stop.” Jack thanked him and said he’d go with him when he got ready, The young man wasn’t ready for -a while, though he did not appear to have any : articular reason for warming the seat in the le park. Finally when the shades of the late June day began to fall upon the city, the young man, who said his name was Curtis Jett, told ~ Jack that he was ready to start. “Some distance uptown,” he said, better take the L.” . Jack had no objection to taking any kind of a conveyance that would land them near their destination. At the pay window Jett discovered that he must have left his pocketbook home, so Jack bought two tickets, which cost him a dime. ; ay got out at the: Thirty-third street station, d Curtis Jett suggested that they have dinner a ng avenue restaurant before going to”his *so we'd ” PI h have to borrow the price of you, Rand, Ma med 4g an off-hand way, “but I’ll make it all ah oset when we get over to the house.” that 1 right,” replied Jack, who was per- cit aide to ante up. (ow much can you stand?” asked Jett, as they See, down the block. “Shall we ‘patronize a Saas: restaurant or a medium-priced one? I - usually dine at Martin’ S, oF Burns’s, or some lace as that, but if you’re not flush we'll go to a cheaper one.” Jack asked what .it cost to dine at the places Jett. said he was accustomed to. - When his new acquaintence gave him a general idea he said that he could not afford the luxury, so Jett took him to one of the ordinary restau- rants, where thirty cents would pay for a fairiy bstantial meal. = _Although Curtis Jett ata that he wasn’t used to dining at common places, he made away with the viands set before him with all the voracious- ‘ness of a hungry man accustomed to pot luck. | “Being a ge ria in New York,” said Jett, after they left the restaurant, “I bes oe yous “never hear of the Tenderloin?” “Oh, yes, I’ve heard of it,” replied ax eames ae F know that it’s the finest place in or having a bang-up time?” “I’ve Sam 3 d that it’s pretty lively at night.” tis ean gamble on it that it is. Nothing slow I've reer re it i pee er in New. York looking around town and taking in ~ ‘the little money you have unti panion eemggs eo wit! NICKEL 5 hardly awake ‘yet. It will be an hour or two yet before things begin to pick up. It’s half- past seven now. I would propose that we take in a show before going over to my lodgings.” “It would be rather late when we got out, wouldn’t it? Too late for me to make any ar- rangements about a room.’ ‘ “Don’t you worry about it. You shall share my room to-night, an you can make your arrange- ments in the morning. Jack said that he Gant like to inconvenience Mr. Jett to that extent, but his new acquaintence — declared that it would be no inconvenience at ail. “I owe you a favor angwey for advancing me I can HE y you at house. Don’t say another word, but let’s go to a show.” Jett said they’d better take in one of the Broad- way theaters near by, and so they went to the Bijou, Jack paying for the tickets After the show Jett asked him if he played billiards or poor. Jack said that he didn’t indulge in those amusements. on you drink or smoke?’ asked Jett. ‘ io” Z “Well, I don’t blame you. They are bad habits. I have to take a snifter myself once in a while, as my constitution is weak.” Jack thought he didn’t look very strong for a_ young man of his years. i “I suppose you don’t mind loaning me the price of a drink,” said Jett. “I don’t usually stay out : as late as this on account of my health, and when I do I feel the necessity of a bracer. What do | you say? Shall we go in here? You can take a soda to keep me in countenance.” se Jack objected to entering the saloon; and said oe so. > “We won't be a minute,” replied Jett, per-— suasively. Finding that his companion was sirous of getting ts drink solely on account of his health, Jack reluctantly yielded and went ie a with him. The place was on the corner of Sixth __ avenue and a side street, and had an entrance on ~ both streets. Jack handed Jett a dime and de- clined to drink anything at all -himself. Jett — ordered the drink like one accustomed to. calling ieee for liquid refreshments. His particular “poison,” — as he facetiously termed it, was"a well-known — brand of whisky, and the kg ree = 2 handed him a small glass and the bottle to help himself. a While his companion was imbibing the boy glanced around the room. There were several - “e customers in the place, two of whom were seated at a small table at the far end of the room with their backs to Jack. Jett looked around the sa- loon also and noted the two men in question. — “I'll introduce you to a couple of friends of — mine,” said Jett, taking Jack by the arm and leading him down the room. .The boy followed” him because he couldn’t well help himself. : “Hello, sports!” said Jett, slapping one of the men on the shoulder in a familiar way, “when did you get back from the country? Let me in- troduce a new friend of mine—Jack Rand. Jack, this is William Squires, an old college chum, and this is——” - He got no further, for Squires and his c abe? if eased “at theme ed t ‘them with

Page 8

ne, BS at ap HIS LAST “a crooks’ he had met in the wood, ‘and ‘who had treated him in such a rough way. Z CHAPTER V.—Jack’s Night In The Tenderloin. urtis Jett was thunderstruck at the effect pro- ducal on his friends by his introduction of Jack ‘Rand. : Before he could recover his customary ‘uency of speech, Bill Squires grabbed Jack by the arm and with an exclamation more expressive than polite demanded to know what he was deing in New York. Jim Coney, to Jett and a ba? Thy, do you chaps know him?” asked Jett. “Do we know him!” snarled Coney. “Yes, we know him, and what’s worse, he knows us. He mustn’t get away till we've fixed: matters some- how. Hustle him into the back room, Bill. Some- thing has got to be done, and done quick, too. Squires, who was alive to the situation, ‘cov- ered Jack’s mouth with his hand and pushed the struggling boy into a small back room, where they were followed by Coney and Curtis Jett. : “Look here, young man,” said Squires, faking” his hand away from Jack’s mouth, “I want +o know what brought you to the city?” fe “That freight-car you locked me in,” replied Jack, defiantly. - ; te Squires jooked at Coney and muttered some- thing under his. breath. “How do you know we car?” said Squires. who was also on his feet. turned sked him where he had picked the 2 oh locked you in a freight- (“It wasn’t anybody else. One of you k icked me out with a crack on the head. When I % to my senses I found myself bound and ga ? in the car, and the car moving along the railroad. When the car réached Mott by some railroa@ men.” ' “So that’s the way you got here? you arrive?” — “Last night.” Bi, hat brought you into*tHis saloon?” “Mr. Jett brought me in, and he’ll tell you I didn’t want to come in,” “That’s right,” nodded Jett. “He hung back, but I got him to come. He treated me to dinner and a show, and I was taking him over to where I stop when-I fetched him in here.” ‘Squires and Coney began to understand that their meeting with Jack was wholly a matter of accident, but it was none the less serious for them just the same. : 5: Pag : “Keep your eye on him, Jim,” said Squires, as he took Curtis Jett by the arm and led him out- side. They were absent from the room about five minutes. Then Jett came to the door and said: _ “Let him go, Coney; I’m going to take him over to my room.” _ Coney hencd aside, so Jack could walk out of the saloon. The boy accompanied the dapper- looking young man as far as the sidewalk, and then’ fe wags he guessed he wouldn’t go any further with him. ; vies bar go any further ? Why, you’re going to “my room to spend the night.” za Ps “] was going, but I’ve changed my mind.” aven I was let out. When. did _ “Changed your mind?” NICKEL “Yes,” : pete nc “Why?” replied Jett, looking disappointed. “T don’t think I.care to have anything to do with you: I thought you were all right, but since those two burglars are friends of yours, that lets me out.” = a Jack saw a policeman coming up the block and he, walked rapidly toward him. Curtis Jett also saw the approaching officer, and for good and sufficient reasons he turned on hig heel and walked be | in the opposite direction. Jack stopped the officer and told him what had hap- pened to him in the saloon, and who the men were who had handled him so roughly. The policeman advised him to go to the West Thirtieth street station and report the facts to the man at the desk. Jack was about to tell the officer that-he was a stranger in- New York and didn’t know whexe the station in question was when an up- roar in a saloon across the street attracted the po- . liceman’s attention, and he started over to see what the trouble was about. It was now after midnight, and Jack felt that he was pretty well adrift in a great city himself. He had scarely more than a dollar left of his funds and didn’t know where to go to find a lodging for the night. He was beginning to think that he had been a bit foolish in not tak- ing a train for home that morning instead of | starting out to make a hero of himself in New York, where he hadn’t a friend to help him in case of necessity. He walked slow] up the street wondering what he should do. Cianeire down the next street he came to he saw a red illumi- nated sign with the words, “Lodgings for single men—25 cents.” _He was weary after his day’s exertions in the sight-seeing line, and longed for anything in the shape of a bed. ~ » The sign suggested what he was after, and he ~Mvalked down to the doorway over which the si hung and looked: up the lighted staircase, He was rather doubtful as to what kind of a lodg- ing-house this was which offered a room, as he supposed, for a quarter. The urgent need of a night’s rest decided him to apply for accommoda- tions at the place, as he had no desire to tramp the streets all night, so he mounted the stairs, He found himseuf in a small corridor facing a screened desk with a pay window. Behind the screen sat a young man dozing in a chair. The night clerk woke up when he came up to’ the t window. > “Want a bed?” he asked. “Yes,” replied Jack. “Twenty-five cents, please.” Jack produced his last dollar bill and received back the change. The clerk then came out of his den and led Jack up to the next floor. He opened a door and introduced the boy into a good-sized room. It was filled with unpainted board parti- tions about six feet high, arranged like a lot of stalls opening off of a central corridor. Each one was provided with a cot, ori which was a straw mattress, a pillow, a sheet and a blanket; some hooks screwed in the wall to hang ‘clothes on, and a doo side. 5 The clerk pushed open a door that stood ajar and told Jack that was his quarters for the night. ~ “In the morning you'll find the wash-room yon- der,” said the clerk with a sweep of his arm, and x which could be bolted on the in- rece

Page 9

~ cents. HIS LAST NICKEL 1 having done all that he felt called on to do he walked off, leaving the heir of the Rand family to turn in as soon as he pleased. - “The room I had last night was bad enough, but it was a palatial apartment alongside of this den,” thought Jack, as he viewed his contracted accommodations. He was too tired and sleepy to feel like quarreling with his surroundings, so after bolting his door, he removed his clothes and popped into bed. In five minutes he was sleeping as soundly as he had ever done at home. CHAPTER VI—His Last Nickel. He was aroused at eight o’clock next morning by some one pounding on his door. a lo! What’s the matter?” he asked, sitting up in bed. iis “Get up! Agent o’clock is the limit,” replied a fog-horh voice. eet . “All right.* Ill be out in three minutes.” As soon as he walked out of his stall he hunted up the wash-room to make his toilet. He found : that it was a small room opening off the large one. The greater part of one side was occupied by a trough lined with a dozen faucets. At one end of the room was a case fitted with a beveled- glass mirror and screwed against the wall. An endless towel, which-had probably "been clean an hour or so before, hung over a roller, while a comb and a brush hung at the ends of long steel chains. : “Tf this isn’t roughing it, I don’t know what is. Well, I guess I can stand it as long as the “next one, even if I ain’t used to it. It will take more than this to make me weaken, bet your life! I’d make a py poor hero for a book if I threw’ up my hands at a little hard luck. I guess V’ll go and have breakfast now, and then look around to see what I can do to earn a little money I can’t afford to waste any more of my: valuable time looking at, skyscrapers, and the other curi- -- osities of New York. It will be time enough to take in some more.of the sighs when Sunday comes around again.” pate . Thus thinking, he made his way to Sixth ave- nue and soon found a cheap restaurant, where he got a steak, rolls and a cup of coffee for twenty While eating he looked over the “Help Wanted” columns of a morning daily, and picked out a dozen advertisements referring to places, any one of which he thought would suit him if he could catch on. The addresses were all down- town, fhost of them on streets with the location of which he was unacquainted. That fact did “not discourage him, however. Jack spent the whole morning hunting for a half a dozen places and interviewing the different bosses, but with no result, for in every case the position had been _ filled long before. After lunch he visited two other places, and finally came to the conclusion 3 _ that if he expected to get a job he would have to et around early in the morning. He was stand- Ing at the corner of Worth street and Broadway “when this fact impressed itself on his mind, and he put his*hand in his pocket to figure up his “Just one measly little nickel,” he said to him- as he gazed at it ruefully. “I’m down to looking contemptuously at the well-dressed boy. hardpan for fair. What am I going to do now? If something doesn’t turn up V’ll go without din- ner and have to sleep in some park for the lack of the price of a bed.. Shall I telegraph home C. O. D. for money to return and throw up my hands? {f could easily go to a hotel, explain the circumstances and stay there till I heard from father. No, I should feel ashamed of myself if I gave in under the first real stroke of hard luck. I'd be a failure as a hero. Anybody can get along when he’s backed-up by his folks. I want to get along by my own exertions, if only to convince myself that I can do it.” At that moment Jack heard a disturbance be- hind him and looked around. : A tough-looking boy, somewhat stouter than himself, had a small youth.of about ten years by the ear, and was cuffing him about. The little Jad was evidently a newsboy, for he had a bundle of papers under his arm. “Leave me alone, Steve Cox!” he remonstrated with all the vigor he was able to bring to his aid. - “Hand over that nickel you owe me, then,” de- manded Steve Cox. “IT don’t owe you any nickel.” “Yer a liar, Billy Barlow! If yer don’t cough up I'll knock de stuffin’ out of yer,” giving, his vic- tim’s ear a cruel twist. : : “Ob, oh! you hurt! You’re tearing my ear off!” cried the little fellow, beginning to cry from pain. “Den spit out dat nickel, or I’ give yer an- other!”’ : 5 2 : “Aw, let up on him, Steve!’ Gifeved in a boot- black, fully as big as the aggressor. “Shut up yer trap!” snarled Steve, with a men- acing look at the bootblack. : . “Please let me go, Steve,” pleased Billy Bar- low. “I haven’t any money.” “Oh, you haven’t, eh? Pull out yer pockets and let me see whether ye’re lyin’ or not.” ni ’ Billy turned all his pockets out. A solitary penny dropped out of one. Steve swooped after it, like an-eagle after a barnyard fowl, grabbed it and put it in his pocket. ; “Is dat all yer have?” he roared at Billy, still holding on to him. - “Yes,” whimpered Billy. i ¥ The bully gave the !ad’s ear another twist, that made him cry out with pain, then he snatched away his bundle of afternoon newspapers, tore ~ them in half and threw them into the boy's face. “Now yer kin git! Next time I meet yer and er don’t pay dat nickel, I’ll fix yer wuss, see if” don’t!” He was turning away with a look of fiendish satisfaction on his eg Seen countenance, when a hand was laid on his shanlas, and a reso- lute voice said: _ “You big coward! What do you mean by‘abus- ing a little fellow, half your size, and tearing up his papers?” Steve Cox turned around and came face to face with Jack Rand, whose clear hazel eyes blazed with anger. Jack had been an observer of the scene until Steve Cox twisted Billy’s ear for the last time and tore up his papers, and then’ - his indignation asserted itself. : e3 “Wot’s de matter wit’ youse?” retorted Steve, _ 7

Page 10

We: - it to a quick conclusion. ‘his arms about like a windmill. sired at. 8 HIS LAST NICKEL “The matter is that you’ve got to pay for those papers you destroyed.” “Who says dat I’ve. got to pay for dem?” ' sneered Steve. “You'll pay for those y gcse or Ill hand you over to a policeman,” said Jack, seizing the tough by the collar of his jacket, while the bootblack looked on amazed at the young stranger’s sand. With a howl] of anger Steve wrenched himself free and struck out at Jack. The blow was clev- erly warded off, and the ‘next moment Jack’s hard fist came in contact with Steve’s eye. The young aristocrat never did things by halves. The mo- ment he saw that a scrap was inevitable he ce- termined to go in for all he was worth and bring Biff! Swat! Smash! Jack landed on his face three times in such quick succession that Steve was dazed, and threw In the scuffle that followed Jack’s clothes were torn. The last blow caught Steve on the point of the jaw, and _he went down on the pavement, all*in a heap. “Want any more?” demanded Jack, standing over him aggressively. “Yah!” he snarled, rubbing his damaged optic. which hurt him badly, for Jack’s first blow had been a corker, as he intended that it should be. Steve showed that he had had enough, as he made no Haste to get up. Jack was satisfied, and leaving him on the ground walked over to Billy Barlow, who was sitting on the doorstep of the wholesale house that occupied the corner. Billy and the bootblack had watched the brief scrap - with eyes that dilated with wonder. Jack’s prowess ‘had greatly impressed them, while Steve Cox’s ability as a fighter had taken a slump in their estimation. “How much did those papers cost you?” asked * Jack. “Five cents,” replied Billy, with a sniffle, as he ' looked at his ruined property. _ The bully rose to his feet, his illlooking coun- tenance distorted with fury. A ee lady, with a gentleman escort, and an A, D. T. messenger, had also been witnesses of his humiliation. — “V1 git 7 wit’ yer!” snarled Steve, shaking e plucky boy. ck gave him a defiant look as he dropped a 5 coin in the newshoy’s hand. “Here’s my last \nickel,” he said; “but you're v / welcome to it.” ae ‘CHAPTER VII.—Jack Secures’ a Situation. : . The lady and gentleman heard Jack’s remark, and they looked at. him in surprise. The boot- black also regarded him with some curiosity, as though he didn’t take mych stock in Jack’s as- ‘gertion that the coin he had handed Billy Barlow was actually his last nickel. Billy dried his tears and thanked Jack for the coin. The gentleman, to whom the lady had spoken a few words in an earnest tone, stepped up to Jack and said: “You're a plucky lad, and evidently have a gen- bed erous nature. May I ask your name? j “Certainly, sir. My néme is Jack Rand.” “The remark you made when you handed this - " little fellow a coin to replace his torn papers at-_ attention of me sister and myself. Are we to understand that is really your last nickel? Haven’t you any more money?” “Tt is really my last cent, sir. “But you don’t look as if you stood in need of charity,” continued the gentleman, “Surely “you have parents with whom you live and friends.” “1’m not looking for charity,” replied Jack, with some dignity, not noticing the rest of the gentle- on remark; “what I’m looking for is a situa- ion. ; “If that is what you stand most in need of I guess I can provide you with one,” said the gentle- man. ‘ “Can you, sir?” asked Jack, eagerly. “Yes. Ihave rather taken a fancy to you, and so has my sister,” said the gentleman, nodding at the lady, who had also stepped up. “‘My name is | Kenneth Ridge.. I am a lawyer, with offices at No, — Nassau Street, near Wall. I need a smart young clerk. If you would like to accept the posi- tion it is yours,” “Thank you, sir. I accept it thankfully.” “Very well. We're on the way to my office now, so. yov had better accompany us. If there is one thing I admire it is pluck, backed up by breeding. I can easily see that you come from good stock. Are your parents dead?” “No, sit? | ae “Qh, I thought you were dependent on yourself.” “IT am at present, sir. My people live out of town. I came here to make-my own way, and I propose to-do it.” “Ah, I see. You’re from some country fown. You have come to New York to better yourself.” _ “Yes, sir; I came here to better myself.. I ar- rived the other night on a freight-car with a $5 bill in my pocket and———” “Ts it possible that was all the money you had to begin life on in this city?” asked the lawyer, in surprise. “Yes, sir, and now it’s all gone. last nickel I handed the boy.” “Where are you stopping?” “Nowhere. I slept last night in: a lodging- house in some street off Sixth Avenue. To-night it looks as if I’ll have to try a bench in the park, unless———” : _ “Nonsense!” exclaimed the lady. “You shall come home with us. We have a spare room that you can oceupy tonight, and tomorrow my brother will advance you some money so that you can se- cure quartérs for yourself. You have no objec- tion, Kenneth?” 2 a “Certainly not, Agnes. He shall dine and sleep at our home tonight. That is satisfactory to’ you, isn’t it, Jack?” O53 “Tm afraid, sir, it is imposing on your kind- Reon : : “Not at all. We shall be glad to have you. Of course we wouldn’t make this offer to any boy That was my ne promiscuously, but you appear to be a little gentle- man, and we havenio doubt you are accustomed to a good home where you came from.” : “Yes, sir. I have a good home; but it’s no use * to me at present.” “FT understand. You are not yet acquainted with the city, I suppose?” ; “No, sir. I know this street we’re walking on is Broadway. And I know yonder is City Hall — nk Park; and that big building at the further end of it is the postoffice. I also know where Battery Park is. I have been on: Wall, Broad, Pearl, and I’m flat broke.” , a ~~ of + Z 4 Se oh ae eae

Page 11

other streets in that direction. That’s about all I know about.the city, except I could tell you where the Tenderloin is.” The lady and the gentleman exchanged glances. “How came you to get acquainted with the Tenderloin, Jack?” asked Mr. Ridge. Jack told him how he had gotten acquainted with a young man named Curtis Jett in Battery Park on the previous afternoon, and how he had - spent a large part of his funds on that young man under the impression that he was to have it returned to him when he reached Mr. Jett’s lodging-house, where he had expected to make arrangements to stay himself. » ‘Ym afraid Curtis Jett is what is popularly known as a beat,” said the lawyer. They were now crossing City Hall Park in order to reach the head of Nassau Street. “T suppose you know that building,” said the lawyer, pointing to a flat-looking two-story edifice, painted white, and squatting like a brood- jng hen in the midst of the park, “is the City pieiwn Seed 2” oe “Yes, sir,” replied Jack. quite an old building.” “Yes, it is. It was built a great many years ago. That block facing us is called Newspaper Row. That tall structure adjoining the Brooklyn . Bridge entrance is the Pulitzer Building, the home of the World newspaper. That small red build- _ing across that narrow street is the Sun office. That tall building yonder, with the clock, is the ._ Tribune Building, and the skyscraper at the head of Nassau street.is the American Tract Society Building. I call your attention to these feacts because I have clients in all these buildings and you will mobahly be sent on errands to them. You will also have to visit the Hall of Records, which is yonder., The street on this side of the post- office is Park Row, and extends up past the bridge entrance for several blocks to Chatham Square. _ That wide street on our left is Centre street. _ Make a note of it, as the Criminal and other courts are located on it up a few blocks and you will often have to go there when I am engaged on some case.” ; - “Tl remember all you've said, sir,” replied _ Jack, respectfully. \ “Now we'll cross to Nassau street,” said Mr. “JT was told that it is ae Ridge. ; : They walked down Nassau street to Wall street before they reached the building where Mr. Ridge’s office was located, on the eighth floor. They entered an outer or reception-room, the only occupant of which was a small, red-headed youth, who acted as office-boy. The middle room was furnished with three desks. A young man of thirty ‘was seated at one busily engaged with a number of legal documents. % at There was no one at the second desk, while at the third was a very pretty little girl working ; the keys of a typewriter with surprising speed. A large alcove room off this apartment was used by Mr. Ridge as his private office. It was ‘lined with book eases filled with law books. The three entered that room. When Mr. Ridge seated himself at his desk he proceeded to ask Jack a lot =o suapen about his education and one thing or a He all of which the boy answered truthfully. _ The lawyer appeared to be quite satisfied with his Statements, and told him- what wages he HIS LAST NICKEL —- would receive. Then he called his chief clerk in- side and intr@fuced the boy to him. “Jack will start in to-morrow morning,” said Mr. Ridge to his clerk. He will use the desk - formerly occupied. by Remsen, and I expect you to break him into his duties as soon as possible. I am sure you will find him smart and apt.” . - “T will look after him, sir,” said the clerk, whose name was Arthur Evans, ; The lawyer then asked his assistant about sun- dry matters that occupied his attention in the courts, after which he read several letters that lay on his desk. He called his stenographer in and dictated replies to her, and after attending to other matters requiring his attention he turned to his sister and said that they would now zo uptown. With Jack in their company they took an elevated train to the Highty-first Street Sta- tion, where they got out and walked to a private house on Highty-second Street. Jack was shown to a room on the third floor and told to make himself at home for the present. “By the way; I forgot to ask you, Jack, where you had left your trunk. At the dépot ?” “No, sir. The fact of the matter is, I came away from home in such a sudden manner that _ I did not bring anything with me.” Je The answer very much astonished the lawyer, who for the first time began to wonder if all was right with the boy he and his sister had taken Bes great roe to. : “Do you object telling me the cause i Be pepe ee your home?” he ia 0, sir. will tell you all about it. nothing to conceal.” = : eee pk “T am glad to hear it,” replied feeling much relieved. pe ee Jack, without going into any details concernin his family, told Mr. Ridge about his dues dekee with the burglars in the wood near his home, and - hew they had served him. He recounted his in- voluntary trip to Mott Haven-in the freight- and how he had occupied his. time fie Ne tha couple of days he had been in the city. — = ‘“Wpon my word, Jack, you had quite an ad- venture, You sent word to your parents, I sup- pose, so that they would not be worried over your unexpected disappearance?” : I wrote my mother, telling her that I was all right, and that I intended to remain and make my. way to the front.” - “That was right. I will advance you a week’s wages in, the morning, and before you to the, office you can look up a boarding-house. Then you can write your folks to send on your things by express, which will answer just as well as if you went back after them.” , Jack made no reply, for he had no intention of sending to his people for any of his things, — knowing that such a course would only put a spoke in his plans, He didn’t know that his father was already in the city looking for him, and that the police department had sent out a general alarm in the hope of locating him. An exact description of his appearance was posted in every police sta- tion in Manhattan, and the officers had been in- structed to keep an eye out for him. The police- man who had met him at midnight in'the Tender- loin the previous night reported the fact at the Thirtieth Street station as soon as he heard the _— boy was wanted. He also reported what Jack had hn ate?

Page 12

10 told him about Bill Squires and Jim Coney, and detectives were now searching the Penderloin for those crooks; as the boy’s statement identified them as the burglars who. had robbed the residence of Lawyer Davenport, of the Beechwood district. Under these circumstances the reader might think that Jack Rand’s career in New York City would be of brief duration. CHAPTER VIII.—Overboard. After a good night’s rest and a hearty break- fast, Jack with a week’s wages in his pocket, left the home of his employer and started out to find a boarding-house for himself. Mr. Ridge’s sister had cut several advertisements of boarding-houses out of the morning paper and handed them to Jack for his guidance, and armed with these he had no great difficulty in finding a satisfactory place on Seventy-second Street near the elevated station. He paid a week’s board in advance, told-the land- —jady that it might be some time before his trunk weed, and then took a train downtown for the office. As soon as he appeared, Mr. Evans, the chief - elerk, put him to work, after carefully explaining the details of the job in hand. Jack took hold right off and gave the clerk very little trouble. Mr. Ridge came in soon after, remained a few minutes and then departed for one of the courts. At half- past twelve Jack was told he could go to lunch, and was directed where he could find a restaurant ’ suitable to his needs. During the afternoon he made the acquaintance of Lillian Page, the stenographer, and the girl seemed quite taken with his looks and'manner. At five o’clock his duties were over for thé day, and - he started for his boarding-house. As Jack was leaving the Seventy-second Street station he spied, ‘close to the foot of the stairs, a small wallet. He picked it up and opened it. It contained $20 in bills and sixty cents in loose change, apparently unimportant, and a small piece of a dress pattern. There was not the slightest clue, however, to the identity of the owner. The wallet was bound ahd ornamented with silver, and seemed to be th property of some well-to-do woman. 4 -He secretly hoped that the owner would not worry over her loss to the extent of advertising ~ for the wallet, for he needed the money badly; - put, nevertheless, he intended to watch the “Lost .and Found”. column of the papers taken at the office, in justice to the owner. That night he wrote another letter to his moth- - er, stating that he was getting along fine. He said he-had a swell position in an office, the loca- tion and business of which he prudently neglected to mention. : “J don’t expect to return home until vacation is over, at any rate,” he went on to say, “so don’t = ate me, for I can take care of myself, all ~ right. - _He also wrote a second letter to Howard Edger- ton, in which he detailed all his adventures in the Tenderloin, including his second encounter with ‘the two burglars. He mentioned the scrap he had had with the young tough at the corner of Broad- way and Worth Street, dwelling with a good deal of satisfaction on the way he had knocked his opponent out. — HIS LAST NICKEL that he must go- back whence he came. This Jack watched the papers for an advertisement 4 relating to the lost wallet, but nothing of the kind — appearing by Saturday, Jack used 2 “art of the — money to purchase a suit-case and sulci > purel as_ ee was absolutely necessary for him to have. ; He spent Sunday walking around town, and ~ though he passed half a dozen policemen in the, course of thesday, not one of them took sufficient notice of him to identfy him as the boy who was’ + wanted at headquarters. Major Rand returned home after remaining two days in the city with- A out having obtained any clue to the whereabouts = of his son.. He read the second letter received 4 by his wife from Jack, and feeling satisfied that the boy was all right, and apparently resolved on carrying out some special purpose, he decided to let things take their course. _Jack wrote a fourth letter home on Sunday night, and its tenor still further reassured his = father, and relieved the anxiety of his mother ~~ and sister. Jack’s first letter to Howard Edger- ; ton, written on the morning after his arrival in’ the Bronx, and containing a full account of his adventures up to that date, had created no little surprise and excitement among his companions to whom Howard read it. One and all envied Jack the spree he was on, as they called it, and wished: they were with him. His second letter to Edger- — ton was also eagerly perused by his Beechwood associates, and all agreed that he was having a swell time of it. They figured that the job he had must be a cinch, otherwise they could not understand why he was so pleased to be doing work in vacation time. Certainly not one of them really understood Jack’s object in remaining in New York. They classed it as remarkable, and let it go at that. They never dreamed that Jack had started out to make his way in the world in- dependent of his wealthy father and the family influences, just as though he were a poor boy and wholly dependent on his own exertions. The { major was the first one who got an inkling of his son’s’ plans from a letter Jack wrote him ~ during the following week, and he smiled grimly to himself as he read it, and wondered how long © the boy would hold out. He\forgot that Jack was endowed with the same dogged perseverance that had marked his own successful business career, and that it would be a mighty long time before his son would voluntarily return to his luxurious home. Jack continued to write regu- larly, though briefly, to his mother, so that she — might have no cause to worry about him, but — he only wrote to Howard Edgerton when he had something out of the common to say. He had been three weeks in Mr. Ridge’s employ, and was giv- — ing the greatest satisfaction, when one afternoon __ he was sent to Ellis Island on business. Ellis Island, as probably most readers know, is where all the immigrants reaching New York from foreign countries are first landed, pending exami- nation as to their availability as future citizens _ of this great republic. Most of them pass the ordea] successfully and are allowed to land upon our shores proper; but a few are turned down for state and other reasons, and have to be de-— ported by the steamship companies that brought them hither. It happened that a certain im migrant who had friends in New York was held up on the island, and the commissioner decided Ye a

Page 13

f HIS LAST NICKEL decision raised a howl among his friends, and ieaing that mere protests amounted to nothing, they hired Mr. Ridge to put the machinery of the ~ law in motion for the unfortunate one’s benefit. The lawyer succeeded in obtaining a stay, pend- ing advices from Washington, the case having ' been submtted to the head man there. That was the best that could be done, for the chief’s de- cision was final. A bit of new evidence favorable to the detained one having cropped up, Mr. Ridge directed Jack to carry it.to the commissioner at the island. Jack was delighted to be employed on this errand, as it offered him a fine chance to see the immigration depot, of which he had heard a great deal. He reached the island all right, delivered his document at the proper place, and then took in the sights of the Government reservation. After he had seen all he wanted he é caught the boat just as she was about to return _ for the city. It was a hot, but gusty, July after- ~ noon, and the wind was kicking up the whitecaps in the bay. along like a tipsy Sailor trying to walk a chalk- line. There were quite a number of passengers on board, and among them Jack noticed. a : stylishly-dressed and very pretty girl, a year -younger than himself, who was accompanied by er mother, as he presumed. The motion of the boat seemed to have very little effect upon her spirits, which seemed to be at high-water. mark. Her mother and the other ladies appeared, on the contrary, quite nervous and disturbed. Jack was sitting at the extreme stern of the boat_and he was so taken with the _ charming girl that he seldom took his eyes off her. The boat was about half-way between the island and the Battery when the fair girl’s at- ~.. tention was suddenly attracted by some floating - object in the water.. She leaned oyer the rail to get 2 better look at it, and Jack did likewise. At that moment the little steamboat rose on a heavy swell and lurched smartly to the leeward. Jack had to grab the rail to save himself from ying over. It was then that a shrill scream roke upon his ears. He recovered himself just in time to see the girl he had been admiring go hurtling from. the rail toward the water. She struck the surface of the ues. bay with a splash and disappeared. he girl’s mother _ sereamed and all the passengers. were thrown into the greatest dismay and confusion. That is all but Jack. ; : Without a moment’s delay he threw off his hat and jacket, kicked off his shoes, and took a header into the water in the direction the un- fortunate young lady had gone. ’ al ie ~ . RF OT, at: CHAPTER IX—Jack Makes a Gallant Rescue.- i Jack went into the bay like,a torpedo from the tube of a warship, taking the plunge with all the grace of an experienced diver, as indeed he was. ‘In a moment or two he rose to the surface, shook the moisture from his eyes, and struck out. for the spot where the girl had disappeared. -- Jack could swim like a duck. He was noted “among the Beechwood friends for his expertness this respect. It seemed to run in the family, - z ) The little Government boat wobbled - for his sister Florence was a fine swimmer, while | 1 both his father and mother,in their young days, had been good at.it.. The imperiled girl came up- before Jack was.anywhere within reach of her. She was seen from the steamer, which had come to .a stop by this time, to struggle ‘wildly in the water and then sink again. Jack caught a fleeting plimpseof her and put forth all his strength to get to the spot where he calculated she would comé up again. He cut his way through the waves like a fish, swimming harder than he had ever done before in his life, for he knew a human life depended on his exertions. When the girl rose again Jack was close to her. She-was still conscious and thrashed the water frantically with her arms.. Jack saw that it would take some skill to grab her rightso she would not get hold of him with a drowning per- son’s grip. He aimed to. seize her from. behind, and sueceeded just as she started to sink for the third time. “Stop struggling and I will save you!’ he said. The terrified girl paid no attention to this re- quest, and Jack was obliged to sustain her and let her exhaust herself. In a few minutes her arms lay “motionless in the water and her hedih — fell over as if she had become unconscious. As soon as She became quiet the plucky boy altered his position somewhat, and holding her up with one arm, began to swim back toward the little steamer with the other. The boat had come about and was’ steaming toward him, the deckhands gathered at the rail forward with lines in their hands ready to cast at the young rescuer. Just before he got alongside of the boat the girl re- vived and began to struggle again. Jack held her tightly and succeeded in calming her fears, then she remained quiet, with her dilated eyes fastened on his face, first line flung’ to him and wound his right arm about it. He and the girl were speedily drawn up" against the steamer, which immediately stopped. One of the deckhands leaned over, and as the boat dipped to the leeward, he caught hold _of Jack’s burden and dragged her on deck. Jack then seized the line with the other hand and was pulled aboard in a jiffy. There was nothing but praise for the young law clerk after that. Half of the passengers gathered in a bunch around him and complimented him for his pluck in goin to the aid of the drowning girl. The young lady was taken to the captain’s room, where she was attended by her mother and two other ladies who were anxious to be of service to her, while the hero of the occasion was- led down into the boiler-room below the deck, and told to strip. His clothes were wrung out and hung up to dry, and were soon steaming under the heat of the place.. They were almost dry by the time the boat was made fast to her dock. The girl had also been disrobed and put into the captain’s berth, and her clothes sent to the boiler- room. As soon as his garments were thoroughly - dry Jack put them on again, and was told to go to the captain’s room. Here he was overwhelmed with the mother’s grateful thanks, to which the girl added hers. He learned that her name was Flora Sanders, and in response to her mother’s zegnest he gave his own name and business ad- ress. ' ' “You must call onus, Mr. Rand,” said Mrs. Sanders. “We live at No. — Hast Sixty-fifth The brave boy caught the’ -

Page 14

“12 Street, near Madison Avenue. When may we ex- pect you?” . “«“T can call ’most any evening, or on Sunday afternoon,” he replied. “Then come up to-morrow evening. Mr. San- ders will be impatient to thank you for the great service you have rendered our daughter.” “A)) right,’ replied Jack. “I will call to- morrow evening with pleasure.” Seats He was then permitted to go, after receiving a sweet smile from Flora. Jack looked little the worse for his unexpected bath in the upper bay or harbor when he walked into Mr. Ridge’s office half an hour late. He had a story to tell, how- ever, that greatly interested the lawyer, as well as the head clerk and the stenographer, when it reached their ears. , “My goodness, you must be a fine swimmer!” said Miss Page to Jack, as she was putting on her hat to go home. “And how brave vou were to jump overboard after that young lady,” she added, with an admiring look at him. “J am a good swimmer,” replied the young clerk. “I’m in the water every day at-home dur- _ ing warm weather. All the fellows I know can swim. So can my sister and most of the other girls in our set. Then my mother and father are not so bad at it, either. Swimming is a healthy amusement, and I’m fond of it.” - “Well, your name will be in the papers now as a young life-saver,” smiled the stenographer. “Byerybody will be reading about your gallant deed to-morrow morning.” : Jack didn’t like to hear’ that. He remembered. that he had given his name hd office address to Mrs. Sanders. _ Jf his address was printed in the newspapers '. his father and mother, as well as.all who knew him: in Beechwood, would probably see “it, and then he might expect a visit from the major, who * would doubtlers cut his business. career quite short. Jack was getting along so well on the lines he had marked out for himself that he strongly objected to any interference on the part of his folks. Consequently he looked the papers over next morning with some eagerness and anxiety. The first paper he took up had the story on the first page. He learned that the - girl he had saved was the daughter of a dry- ‘goods merchant, who was also one of the city_ park commissioners. His own name and the ad- dress he had given were printed, but no mention was made of his business or employer, which he Z pine remembered he had not stated to Mrs. San- ers. | _. “Well, that’s some comfort, at any rate,” mused . Jack. “There are eleven floors and more than = 100. offices in our building. It wouldn’t be easy- to locate the particular office where I am em- ployed. Still, my father would probably make a - tour of every office, floor by floor,’ till he found me. Vd be ever so much obliged to him if he --wouldn’t take all that trouble, but it’s just like him ‘to do it. Mother would no doubt make him, anyway, for I’ve no doubt she wants me home. ‘It’s too bad that a fellow can’t be allowed to do as he pleases.” That evening Jack called at the ‘Sanders’ home ‘on Sixty-fifth Street, as he had promised to do. _» He received a royal welcome from the whole family. Mr. Se * HIS LAST NICKEL nders expressed- his own’ grate-'_ ful appreciation of his service in suitable termet fet and told Jack that it would give him great pleasure if he could show his gratitude in some- substantial way. Jack assured him that his thanks were sufficient, and refused to entertain any thought of other reward. Flora looked prettier than ever in a dainty house gown, and she had spent and hour or more before her glass in order to look her best in expectation of meet- ing him again. She thanked Jack all over again for saving her life, and declared that he was just | too brave for anything for coming to her rescue. “You don’t suppose I was going to let you $ drown if there was a possibility of my prevent- —~ ing it, do you?” asked Jack, blushing under her praises and the glances of her bright eyes. “T don’t believe that. many boys in your place would have done as you did,” she replied. “I ont never forget how good you were as long as ive. “Yl take your word for it,” he laughed. “It’s just as if you and I were the hero and heroine of a story-book.”. “How do you mean?” : “Why, for me to fall overboard and you to jump in and rescue me from a watery grave.” _ “Watery grave is good,’ chuckled Jack. “I’d be willing to do it all over again for the pleasure of saving Such a nice girl aS you are.” Flora blushed vividly at this compliment. “T am sure you Said that very nice, Mr. Rand,” she replied, with a sly glance in his face; “but I don’t think I’d care to repeat the experience.” “No, I don’t think it would pay you to make , ~ a practice of it. You might not always find a hiss good swimmer ready to leap in after you.” : “T agree with you,” she laughed. “Once in a lifetime is quite enough. I consider myself very fortunate in being saved by such a brave young —__ man aS you are.” : “Now you’re throwing me a bouquet.” “Oh, no! I mean it.” : ‘= “What difference does it make who saved you as long aS you were saved?” ; “Well, it’s ever so much more romantic to be rescued by a nice young man, don’t you know?” she said, coquettishly. Shag “You said that very nice yourself. I assure — you 1 appreciate the honor of having been favored with the opportunity of doing you such a distin- guished service.” * “After all, when.you come to look at it, it seems just a little bit ridiculous on my part to take such an undignified tumble and thus oblige a total stranger to wet himself through and — through all for the benefit of my humble self.” “You forget that the tota] stranger in question had been admiring you for half an hour at a distance, and that fate was very ‘kind to him to put the chance in his way to get acquainted — with such a charming girl as yourself.” ; “Oh!” almost gasped Flora, blushing deeper than before. “Did you really notice me before——” IES lie i Whee 2? I couldn’t help disk

Page 15

“moment of sitting alongside of you and listening to the tones of your silvery voice.” “Dear me, I’m afraid you'll make me too con- ee for anything,” she replied, with a demure look. “Pm willing to take the risk, for I don’t think -you’re built that way.” “Wait till you know me better,” she answered, - - rougishly. én 4 “The better I know you the better an opinion I shall have of you.” : : “'m satisfied now that you are trying to spoil » “You mustn’t have that opinion. At any rate, -I hope you will permit me to call on you oc- ; casionally. I wouldn’t like to lose sight of you after the strenuous endeayor I made-to get ac- ; gquainted with you.” ‘ _ You didn’t jump in after me just to get ac- _ quainted with me, did you?” she asked, flashing another of her bewitching sidelonge glances at m. “No. Your life was my first consideration, The acquaintance followed as a matter of course.” __ “T shall be very happy to have you call as often = as you care to do so,” she said. “Thank you. Don’t blame me if I take ad- _ ‘wantage of your permission.” ; “J hope you will do so. Do you like music?” “Tt js one of my weaknesses. You play, of course?” he said, glancing at the open piano. to the instrument. She soon showed that she was an artist, and Jack enjoyed her playing im- mensely. ~ “Do you sing?” she asked. A jittle,” he laughed. - . He had a good voice, and displayed it to the best advantage. She had a very sweet voice herself; too. ; They sang separately and together, and en- joyed themselves very much indeed. Mrs. San- ders returned to the room to enjoy the perform- ance, and she complimented Jack on his singing. Sa Finally the time came around for him to go, and he took up his hat with some reluctance. Flora accompanied him to the front door, and - seemed anxious to know when he would favor her _ with another call. : “Next Wednesday, if you say so,” he said. : “Very well. I will expect to see you next ve Wednesday evening.” : : Then she bade him good-night, and allowed her ~ hand to remain in his while he said “good-night” for the second time. After that he went to his - boarding-house. "ih fear ay FS CHAPTER X—At Beechwood. _. It was nine o’clock on the following morning. The Rand family, minus the presence of Jack, were seated at the breakfast table in the large and handsomely-furnished dining-room which commanded a fine view of Long Island Sound. The butler, a simmer ete: utes she man of portly and dignified bearing, entered the room noiselessly as was his custom and deposited “mail and several New York and Boston morn- ba ; HIS LAST NICKEL “A little,” she answered, rising and. crossing “papers at the major’s elbow. The head of independence, my dear. He's just like I was ‘at 13 - the house took up the letters one by one and in- spected them. 2 “Here are two letters for you, Florence,” he said, motioning to the butler. That functionary walked slowly over, received the letters and conveyed them to the young lady who was seated not over three feet away. “And here is another letter from that young scamp of ours,” went on the major, balancing it on his fingers. “Ts it for me?” asked his wife, eagerly, from her seat at the oposite end of the table. “Of course it’s for you,” chuckled the major, handing it to the butler to carry to his mistress. “He doesn’t consider me worth the price of a postage-stamp.” * There was also a letter for Major Rand him- self, and for some moments the family were busily engaged with their correspondence, while — the butler stood solemnly aloof, as stiff as a ramrod, gazing into vacancy. After reading his letter, which was brief, the major took up a New York daily, unfolded it and began to etd, As his practiced eyes glanced rapidly over the news on the first page they suddenly stopped at one spot, as if his attention was riveted by what he saw there. Presently he gave utterance to a prolonged whistle. His wife and daughter looked up and glanced at him inquiringly. “Well, upon my word, if that precious runaway _ hasn’t been making a hero of himself!” exclaimed the major, in a tone that showed he was evidently pleased. _ “What do you mean, Wilford?” asked his wife, in some surprise. “What do you suppose Jack did ‘Jack! Not our Jack?” “Yes, our Jack. Jack Rand.” ; “You don’t mean to say that he’s got himgelf in trouble?” asked Mrs. Rand, anxiously. : “One can’t always say as to that where a woman is concerned,” chuckled the major. =} “Don’t keep me in suspense, Wilford. ‘What has happened to Jack?” Nas “He jumped overboard into New York harbor from the Ellis Island boat and saved the life of Flora Sanders, daughter of Park Commissioner Sanders.” “Let me read about it, father?” asked Flor- ence, eagerly, reaching out her hand- for the aper. e butler stepped forward to get it for ~ yesterday ree er, but was a mile behind time, for Florence. ~~ rose and got it herself. “The paper gives him a great deal of credit. for his plucky action,” continued Major Rand, ad- dressing his wife. “Whatever Quixotie notions Jack has got in his head of late I’m bound to, say that he’s a credit to the family,” added the major, proudly. “By the way, the paper gives us a line on him at last. His business address was secured by the reporter, and is printed in connection with his name.” “Then you'll go to New York and bring him home at once, won’t you?” said the fond mother, — eagerly. oa “Tt don’t know about that, Clara. The boy . seems able to look after himself, I feel disposed now to let him: hoe his own row till he gets tired — and yoluntarily returns, as I. presume he will © when the high school term opens. I admire his He

Page 16

eS 14 ‘his age. little knowledge of the world for himself. He’s “built of the right stuff, and such boys don’t often -go wrong, so I have no fear for him.” “But, Wilford, he is losing all his vacation,” protested his wife. “That’s his business. I assure that he knows his own mind. If he prefers work to play, the experience won’t hurt him any. It may, on the contrary, do him a whole lot of good.- Don’t you worry about him; Clara. Jack will come out at the top of the heap. And to think it has all come about because I wouldn’t raise the ante with him,” chuckled the major. “There'll be quite a little sum of spending mdéney accumulated by the time he*gets back. That will probably extricate him from his financial predicament.” “J should like to go to New York and sée him, at any rate,” said his wife. “Very well, Clara. We'll take the afternoon Ses train, and T’ll look him up in the morning. It’s 7 funny that the police of Manhattan have never act identified him on the street. I was told that every officer on the force would be on the !ookout for kim. And that reminds me that the New York : ‘police department have not yet caught those two ‘rascals who robbed Mr. Davenport’s place. It ‘seems they gave Jack a hard rub, and were the : primary cause of his journey to New York.” - . “The poor boy must have suffered in that “¢ freight-car,” said Mrs. Rand. r “T dare say he looked upon it as a first-class adventure, judging from the tone of his first letter to Howard Edgerton. It is singular how he met them afterward in a saloon in the Ten- derloin. That is the only part of Jack’s experi- ence I don’t like. He did not. explain how he came to-enter that saloon. Possibly he went in to find out where he was, for it was only -his second night in the city, and he was all astray. 5 “He wrote Howard that he slept that night in a cheap lodging-howse,” said Mrs. Rand, with a lauder. “The dear boy, how could he go to such a place when there are so many good hotels in oe the city? Lae “But he could have explained who he was well as his predica ent, and then telegrap fled home for money,” said the lady. ~ “He could, but evidently he didn’t want to do that. In the one letter he wrote me he said that he didn’t want to be under obligations to me. ‘Think of that, the young scapegrace!” again chuckled the major. “Mother, do read what the paper says about Jack,” cried Florence at this juncture, passing - the newspaper vata her Be Lyre Mrs. Rand read the article and smiled, and then she and her daughter began talking about the absent one of _ the household. The Rands were not the only ones in the Beechwood district who read about Jack Rand’s exploit.in the morning papers. Howard Edgerton read it and he nearly fell off his chair at the breakfast table with astonishment. Will _Langdom and Fred Bartling also read the story ‘and were just as much surprised. The three boys met immediately after breakfast and Jack was the sole topic of their conversation. » ~ “Gee! He’s a peach!” said Will. S; “I should say he is,” agreed Fred. Mey Paks HIS LAST NICKEL It won’t do him-any harm to pick up a ‘bet your life. According to his ‘Jetter he didn’t have the “& whole basket of peaches,’’* coincided Howard. “He has done as much as the hero of any book I’ve ever read. Just think of him jump- ing into the middle of New York harbor and saving that girl’s life, the daughter of one of the park commissioners, too! I suppose he'll ray marry her some day and live happily ever after- ~~ ward,” he grinned. ‘ “T wonder if she’s pretty?” said Will. = “Of course she’s. pretty,” replied Howard. “Did you ever hear of a fellow saving a girl that | wasn’t pretty.” “The newspaper doesn’t say whether she’s pretty or not,” said Fred. “The paper doesn’t say everything,” answered Howard. “I’ve got a dollar to bet that Flora Sanders is prettier than any girl in Beechwood.” “ll take you,” said Will, who was sweet on Cassie Davenport, and thought her the finest- looking girl going. “T'll hold the stakes,” laughed Fred. No bet materialized, however, though there was a good deal of bluffing over it. _ “The paper gives his business address,” said Howard. “Let the three of us hike it to New York and surprise him?” That suited the others, so it was agreed to start for New York in the morning. “He'll ha-e a fit when he sees the three of us marching into his place,” grinned Will. “So much the better,” chuckled Howard. “He deserves it for not letting us know where he was hanging out so we could write him.” “What do you s’pose he’s doing?” asked Fred. “How should I know? He never said a word about it in his letters,” replied Howard. a], guess he was afraid you'd give him away to his father.” “T can’t understand what he’s up to in the | city,” said Will. “He’s losing the whole of his vacation. You wouldn’t catch me doing that.” “He’s got a fat snap of some kind, and you can © He’s a sly rooster, not to let us know anything about what it is,” said Howard. “We ought to give him a roast when we see him.” “Well, we'll find out to-morrow what-he’s do- . all "right, and then we'll have the bulge on, m. ” The three then walked down to the boat-house ee to tell the rest of the boys. CHAPTER XI.—Stranded. It was about eleven o’clock on the following _ morning that the head clerk told Jack to take a certain legal document to a client in the Tribune Building. He put on his hat, caught a descend- ing elevator, dad was soon on the ground floor walking toward the main entrance of the build- je. As he started through the doorway, 2 fine- ooking man of military bearing came in from the street. The eyes of both rested on the other © at the same moment. “Father!” ejaculated the an starting: covwand joyfully in spite of a sense of Sip that” he felt at being caught at last. “Jack! My dear ca As exclaimed the major, — seizing’ his son. : NN et eee ee, oR ee -? NRL Pe ae EG ON EL OME IRA | ORE Oe gaa PMR Pe) ay eco Se i yy. ae eer ee ah eee ee, Behe Cnn: Dwi i OA cS wi

Page 17

HIS: LAST - “Pm glad to see you, father. How is mother and sis?” “They are quite well, and are waiting to see you at the Waldorf Hotel.” “Then they came to town with you?” ih “Yes. Your mother insisted on coming, and : as Florence wanted to come, too, why here we — are. Now you will come up right away, won’t you?” “T would like to, father, but I have business to _attend to. I am on my way to the Tribune Build- ing now with a legal document for a client.” “Are you in a lawyer’s office?” “Yes. J am working for Kenneth Ridge, on the eighth floor.” r ' “J cannot understand your idea of staying in ‘New York and working in preference to enjoying ‘your regular. summer vacation at home, where. ou have every luxury and convenience your eart can wish for,” said Major Rand, as he and - Jack walked up Nassau Street together. : “Well, father, I don’t believe I could explain ; the matter to your satisfaction, so I won’t at- tempt to do it. I hope you won’t insist on my ¥ going home right away, for I should prefer not to do it. I am getting on all right, and neither you nor mother has any cause to be worried about -. me. I’m living at a very nice boarding-house on Seventy-second Street, and feel very comfortable there. “New York suits me all right, and I don’t want to quit it just yet.” - “Well, Jack, I have decided to.let you have _your own way until it is time for you to go back to school, then I shall insist on your coming home.” - “Very well, father, we’ll let it go at that.” -. “As I did not come on to take you back, your mother accompanied me, aS she is very anxious to see you. When can you come to the hotel?” « “Mr. Ridge-is at the Supreme Court chambers _ now, but he’ll be back between twelve and one. - Vl ask him to let me off this afternoon, and then Y’'ll go right up to the Waldorf.” : “All right, Jack. ll go back and tell your motheg she may look for you about two o'clock,” - gaid the major, as he bade his son good-by at ‘the entrance of the Tribune Building. When Mr. Ridge returned to the office at about “half-past twelve, Jack told him that his parents had come to the city to see him and that he’d . like to get off for the afternoon. ' “You may go, Jack,” said the lawyer, and ac- - eordingly the boy hurried uptown as fast as he -/ eould get there by a Broadway ear. When he reached the Waldorf Hotel he explained to the clerk that he was Major Rand’s son, and asked to be shown up to his room. A bellboy was sent to show him the way, and a few minutes later he was in his mother’s arms, with his sister’s em- brace to follow. We will not describe the inter- view, which was cut short by Major Rand sug- gesting that they should adjourn to the dining- ‘yoom for lunch. “At the table Mrs. Rand tried to induce Jack to give up his position and return th them that afternoon to Beechwood. She wanted to know how he was living and en- -joying himself, and Jack made no secret of any- “thing: Mrs. Rand was astonished that her son gould be contented to remain at a boarding-house and go to work every day when he had a fine ant chair. opened his eyes, groaned dismally, and closed Jack rushed into the lavatory, . NICKEL 15 5 home and all the pleasures of vacation life at his disposal. “Never mind, mother,” he laughed, “what's the difference so long as I’m satisfied? When I come home by and by you'll learn all my reasons for what seéms to you a strange proceeding on my part.” He remained with his folks till it was time for © them to leave for home by the five o'clock train, and then he accompanied them to the Sipe Cen- tral Station. As they bid him good-by his father tendered him a $50 bill, but Jack refused to ac- cept it. “You can’t give me a cent this trip, father. I’m making my own way without help from any- body, and I’m not going to spoil matters now. I’ve got all the money I require, anyway, so it’s no use to me.” The major shrugged his shoulders and returned the bill to his pocket. A minute later Jack was walking out of the depot on his way to his board- ing-house. On the following afternoon, about five o’clock, as Jack was preparing to lock up the office, the head clerk and the stenographer having just gone, there came a knock at the door. I¢ . was an uncertain knock, and not very loud, and as Jack walked toward the door he heard a noise outside as if something had tumbled down. When he opened the door he saw an old, gray- bearded and gray-headed man lying in a confused heap against the casing. The man’s eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily, as though unconscious. Jack grabbed him by the arms, dragged him into the office and placed him in a The old chap, who was~shabbily dressed, them again. fetched a glass of water and put it to his lips. The stranger opened his eyes, took a few sips and then groaned and shut his eyes again. Jack remembered that a flask of coznae was kept in the closet to be used in case of emergency. He got it and poured -soom of it down the man's throat. He revived, sat up and looked at the boy in a strange kind of way. tone. “T feel bad,” replied the man. for I’ve eaten scarcely anything for two or three days.” : * “Why 2 to buy food?” i “Not a cent.” “Then I'll give you a quarter so you can get yourself a square meal.” “What is one square meal to a starving man?” groaned the old man. “I’m a stranger in the city. I’m stopping at the Mills Hotel, but my room rent runs out to-night and I know not where _ to go, nor what will become of me.’ —< “You’re in a pretty bad fix,” said Jack, feeling very sorry for the man, who seemed to be on a par with the derelicts who drift to the poorhous: on the island. “Haven’t you any property at all that you could raise some money on?’ j “Nothing but this,” replied the stranger, tak- ing a long envelope from his pocket. “I’ve been trying to seN it among the brokers, but no one wants to it. They tell me itis not worth the paper it’s written on.” . eee en SR ta “Are you ill?” asked Jack, in a symathetic : “It’s weakness, _ Haven’t you any money: with which.

Page 18

16 . “What is it?” asked Jack, curiously. “A certificate of mining stock.” The old man took a document: out of the en- _-welope and handed.it to the boy. Jack opened it and saw that it was a certificate for 10,000 shares of the Echo Valley Gold Mining Company, Echo Valley, Colorado, with. offices at Denver. The certificate was made out.in the name of John Grant. Z “Is your name John Grant?” asked Jack. “Tt is.” : “You say this stock is worthless?” “Tt seems ‘so, for no broker will buy it at any price. They told me the mine was as good as dead, although it is not so long ago it was quoted on the Goldfield Exchange at ten cents a share. I paid 25 cents a share for it two years ago when it was listed at that price, and advertised as a coming producer.”> “Ts it a real mine, or only a wildcat?” “¥ “Tt’s a real mine.” “Then why aren’t these shares worth some- thing ?” “Because the bottom has fallen out of the mine, I suppose.” . ! Jaek didn’t quite understand what he meant - * by the bottom having fallen out of the mine, but _. ©. * presumed he referred to a cave-in below the sur- ace. “Well, Pi tell you what Pll do for you, Mr. : rant,” said Jack. “I'll give you $10 for this eas certificate. It looks nice enough to frame and ri hang up in my room at home, The $10 will help - you out and won’t break me.” “You can have it. It is of no use to me now. If the mine ever should amount to anything you'll be the gainer, but I have no hopes that it will.” Jack thought that was an honest admission, at ‘any rate, so he handed the old man a $10 bill and put the certificate in his pocket. “Better take another drink before you go down- stairs,” he said, seeing that the stranger was looking faint again. “Then I'll go with you as . Yar as a restaurant. I wouldn’t advise you to se eat too much at first, if you have been starving : for three days. Take a plate of soup, or some- - thing like that, and let solid food go for an hour e or two.” : ' The stranger took another drink of the brandy, which brightened him up, then Jack helped him outside, locked the office, assisted him to the -elevator, and when they got downstairs he went with -him to a nearby restaurant. To guard against accidents Jack had the bill. changed for him and left him eating a plate of hot soup. ae “That's $10 gone to pot,” said Jack to himself, e as he walked toward the Sixth Avenue elevated station; “but I guess it’s spent in a good eause.” Jack forgot t+ bread thrown on the waters often returns tenfold after many days, and it proved so in his case. : ¥. Aa 2 2 CHAPTER XII—Jack Has Visitors © ; From Beechwood. : . Howard Edgerton, Will Langdon and Fred # 4 Bartling did not take the nine o’cleck train for New York on that particular morning they had - arranged to do so, owing to. the fact that the HIS LAST NICKEL > Might see him when he goes out to lunch. other boys had decided to row across the Sound in their club-boat if the weather permitted, and it was necessary that Howard, Will and Fred should not absent themselves from their places. So Jack Rand escaped the surprise intended for hin’ on that occasion. On the following’ ~ Saturday, however, Howard, Will and Fred con- nected with the nine o’clock train and landed at the Grand Central about two hours later. Howard was well acquainted with the city, and he led the way to a car that would take them@o the post-office. When they got out at the loop in front of the post-office, Howard told his com- panions to follow him, and marched straight for the corner of Ann Street. One short block.down that narrow thoroughfare brought them to Nas- sau Street, and then all they had to do was to walk straight ahead till they came to the office building where Jack was employed. Then they discovered that they were up against it. Here was, an eleven-story building, the directory of | which showed more than 100 offices, all occupied. In which of these offices were they to find Jack? “Say, whe does he work for?” asked Will. “Blest, if I know,” replied Howard, scratching his head in a puzzled way. “I never thought we’d bump up against anything like this.” “There’s a chap over’ there with a cap and uniform. Let’s ask him. He may know Jack.” So they walked over to the man and Howard : asked him if he knew in what office Jack Rand was working. The man shook his head. ee. “Tt’s enough for me to keep track of the people who rent offices in this building, without figuring on the folks who workfor them. There are prob- ably all of 500 employees in this building. How do you expect me to know who they are?” The boys admitted the reasonableness of his argument. and were turning away disappointed © when the man said: - Z apo you know what kind of business he is * “No, we don’t even know that,” replied Howard. | “Then I’m afraid I ean’t help you,” said the an. 3 “What shall we do now?” asked Fred. @ eee “Let’s stand around in the corridor awhile. We Nig ite about twelve’ o’clock now,” suggested Will, = They concluded to do that since they coulin’t do anything better unless, as Howard said, they _ made a tour of the offices on each floor and ask | for Jack. They had waited nearly an hour, at were getting rather tired of the job, when Will suddenly exclaimed: ad pes “There he is now, just coming’out of the ele- vator!”’ im The others looked, and sure enough, there was Jack starting to cross the corridor toward: t entrance. They swooped down on him in a bunch and grabbed him on all sides, “How are you, old man?” cried Howard. : he dae looking as fine as silk, Jack!” cried ' “Ayven’t you glad to see us?” ejaculated Fred Jack was taken completely by surprise. oN He hadn’t the least. notion of seeing his th: ds particular friends in New York. cies eee “Gee whiz!” he exclaimed; “where did you all — spring from?” ee 9.5 3 Se “We came on from Fairhaven this morning per 4 AE

Page 19

~ . AIS LAST see you, and find out how you were getting on.” ’ © “Well, ’m — see you, fellows. Come _ “and have tunch with me.” : . ~~ “Sure,” Iaughed Howard, “we couldn’t think. ef refusing such an invitation.” iF “Don’t imagine I’m going to take you up to 2 Delmonico’s. [Pm not drawing a private income i from my father just now. I’m dependent on what I am earning.” ‘ “Say, who ate you working for, and what,kind - of a business is it?” asked Howard. “Pm working for Kenneth Ridge, on the eighth floor of that building, and he’s a lawyer. Ym glad you chaps made-it Saturday, for ’'m off for the rest of the day. All the offices shut down for half a day at this time of the year.” : “Phat’s tip-top. We'll have a swell time this ‘afternoon, though we can’t stay in town longer { ve o'clock.” on Jack, why are you staying in New anyway?” asked Fred. the world.” “Youre trying to do what?” gasped the three : ‘st | at their amazement. : ! Na “Suffering sandpipers!” ejaculated Howard. oe “What do you want to do that for? Ain’t your father wealthy?” ner he — ; . I’m going to earn mine. te e “Say, es don’t ae that,” said Will. “You're just giving us a jolly. aa ; aN ooer hens earnest in my life,” replied Jack, golemnly. : “What put such an idea into your head * ha asked Fred. ; , “Just my way of doing business, that’s all.” - “This beats all I ever heard of,” said Howard. “A working for wages? : “What. do you suppose I’miworking for? Did "you imagine foqas a partner h the business? d -“t thought you had somegkind of a fat snap, where you got a big salary’for doing nothing.’ “You thought that, did you?” : ae “Yes, that’s what we all thought,” replied Howard. ; ; “T haven’t heard of any such job outside of a political sinecure,” answered Jack, with a grin. “How long are you going to stick to this thing? He earned his money him- Bhd % ai Does your father know what you're about?” ze “Pm going to stick to it’ as long as I can,” replied Jack. “As for my father, he and the s folks know all about it now, though they wouldn't # ( 4f it hadn’t been that my name got the other day, with my office ad- ght father, mother and sis down , ” “And they found you, eh?” chuckled Howard. _ “Father did. He came to the office and I ran against him coming in as I was going out. I . -was glad to see him, though I hated to be caught in such a way.” eee _ “What did they say about you staying in New . York?” “Mother and sis wanted me to come home ight off, but father said I could do as I chose til school opened.” ye ae = NICKEL '. commissioners, isn’t she? Sta ae SAL A ae A Ne Rn ay 17 “Then you intend .to stay here?” said Howard. “I do,” replied Jack, in a decided tone. : a think what .you’re missing,” chipped in “I’m not worring about what I’m missing. I’m enjoying myself in my Own way. Here’s the restaurant, fellows. This is where I eat at noon- . time these days, and what’s good.enough for me_ a you'll have to put up with if you are going to wae enjoy my hospitality.” ae ‘ ee found a: vacant table and tock possession of it. A fine healthy-looking girl waiter eame up to take their orders. : “There's the bill-of-fare,” said Jack. “Pick out what you want and give your orders. You'll find nearly everything but style in this place.” The visitors had healthy appetites,.and were not finding fault with anything that came their way. “Say, old man,’ grinned Howard, while they were eating, “what about that girl you saved from the bay?” - : “You mean Miss Sanders?” asked Jack, in- nocently. “Yes, Flo Sanders. That’s the name I saw in the paper. She’s the daughter of one of the park “T11 bet she is,’ chuckled Howard. “You wouldn’t rescue any other kind of a girl.” “De you s’pose I considered her g00d looks when I jumped in after her?” “No, I don’t mean that.” at do you mean, then?” “T mean that homely girls are not in the habit ~ of tumbling into the water to’ be saved by. wealthy young chaps like you.” : “What has a girl’s looks got to do with her falling into the water, or getting into any other kind of desperate scrape? Miss Sanders didn’t fall into the bay because she was pretty, and be- cause she expected to be saved by a wealthy fel-_ low. She fell in because she couldn’t help her= self, and the accident nearly scared a year’s growth out of her.” ‘ “Did you fall in love with her and she with — you?” laughed Howard. “You want to know too much all at once,” — flushed: Jack. _ “Look at him blush, fellows!” chuckled Howard. “Who’s blushing?” growled Jack. “You are. You’re as_red as a boiled lobster. V’li leave it to Will and Fred.” sree The boys had the laugh on Jack, anyway. es “One of these days we'll all get cards for a ~ wedding in New York town: ‘Mr. and Mrs. San- - ders request the pleasure of your company at the marriage of their daughter Flora to Mr: John Rand, of Beechwood,’ and so forth, and so forth,” snickered Howard. “You’re awfully funny, aren’t you?” said Jack. “Y wish you’d take us up and introduce us. I wanted to bet Will the other day that she’s © prettier than any girl in Beechwood, but he backed ot, though he does think there isn’t an- other girl in the world like Cassie Davenport.” “You mean you backed out yourself. I was will- ing to bet,” put in Will. “ fy “I offered to hold the stakes, but it was onl: i a bluff all round,” said Fred. nae aw ee roy Si * 4

Page 20

18 “Js Flora Sanders hetken Toatoud than Cassie? asked Howard. “I’m not saying anything about it,” retuFhed Jack. “If it’s all the same to you we'll switch off on to something else.” Howard took the hint and nothing more was said about Miss Sanders. - After the meal ‘they went down to the-Battery and took in the Aquarium. Then they boarded _ a Sixth Avenue eleyated train for Central Park, - where they spent the rest of the afternoon, after which Jack saw them to\the Grand Central depot and bade them good-by. . CHAPTER XIII—Jack Shows The Stuff He’s : Made Of. Jack paid his second visit to Flora Sanders on - the following Wednesday evening, according to arrangement, and he found her dressed up to the queen’s taste ready to receive” He spent a very pleasant evening, chiefly with the girl her- self, and promised to call again a week from that night. On the following evening he took in a show at one of the,Forty-second Street theaters, and when the performance was over he left the theater on the Forty-First Street side. He started westward to take an elevated train - uptown on the Ninth Avenue line. As he ap- Eroached the corner of Seventh Avenue he saw two men standing under the glare of an elettric light who looked familiar to him. A closer in- spection proved them to be Bill Squires and Jim Coney. Jack knew that the rascals had not been captured by the police for the robbery of Lawyer _Davenport’s residence, and it struck him that it would be a feather in his cap-if he could have them arrested. His intention was to follow them till he saw a policeman, and then point them out to the officer. So he retired into a convenient ‘doorway and waited for, them to make a move. In a few minutes they Started across the avenue and Jack followed at a distance not likely, he thought, to attract their suspicions. They went down forty-first Street in the direction he was pound himself. The block was deserted and not over well-lighted. Jack crossed to the side and -kept them well in sight. When they came to ‘Eighth Avenue they crossed it and kept on, and -go did Jack. Ninth Avenue was crossed in the same way, and Tenth Avenue also, and then Jack found himself penetrating a low kind of neighborhood. But the plucky boy was not fam- iliar with its: reputation, nor with the sinister "its denizens. No policeman coming best he would e two burglars sieplianeds" he in- ’ to Broadway, if necessary, in order to find an. officer, when he in- _ tended to offer to guide the policeman to the ‘house where he had seen the men go in. Few | boys would have taken the chances Jack was do- ing in order to secure the arrest of a pair of erim- ee however, believéd it to be his duty to i: have the burglar ought to justice, especially as the a ‘ar filed to iain at as his back was turne ‘seat. Jack, -apisiadd i HIS LAST NICKEL Besides, he owed them a grudge for treating him as they had done on the occasion of their ac- cidental encounter in the wood at home. to get square with them, and if possible, assist in recovering a part at least of their booty. Half-way between Tenth and Eleventh Avenues the men entered a low saloon. Jack wondered if this was their destination. There were several trucks standing along the block, and the boy sat on the end of one and watched the saloon for a while. Men of all colors and conditions below the respectable standard entered and left the gin-mill, but Squires and Coney did not reappear. Finally Jack slipped across the street and peered in through the swinging blinds that cut off the view of the bar-room from the sidewalk. While he was watching them a young man came down the street. “What are you lookin’ at, young fellow?” he -asked, as he’ pushed Jack to one side and laid his hands. on one of the blinds as if about to enter. Jack glanced up in a startled way and their eyes met. He knew the young man at once. It was Curtis Jett. The recognition was mutual, and Jett uttered an exclamation of surprise. a “So it’s you, is it?” he said, with a malicious grin, “Found your way to this place, eh? Takin’ in the sights of the city after dark? Let me be your guide.” With those «words he pushed Jack. into the saloon. The boy tried to slip and escaped, ‘but Curtis Jett grabbed him by the arm and led him. well forward. This attracted general attention to both of the newcomers. Jett was well known to the habitues of the saloon, as he lodged in one of the houses of the block. Bill Squires recognized Jack right away, for his Sharp eyes were never asleep. be said of Jim Coney, he didn’t see the boy, o him. With both of them eternal vigilance was the price of safety. As soon. as Jett saw Squires. and Coney he pushed Jack toward them. “Here’s this young chap again, my bucks. I caught him squintin’ in through the door at you both. I guess he was tryin’ to get a line on you 80 as to blow the gaff to the cops. You'd better attend to him, as it’s none of my funeral.” . Squires uttered a fierce malediction, “So you're followiit” us, you young monkey, are you?” he said, seizing Jack by the collar. “Been tryin’ to get on our track again since you met us at the saloon that night. Achin’ to do what the cops have failed to do, eh? You must be a fool to come after us here. Well, I reckon we'll fix you so you won't follow us any more.” Thus speaking, Squires yanked Jack down on a Then he made a sign gesture to Coney. That worthy got up, walked to the bar and said something to the barkeeper in a low tone. The man nodded after casting a look at He felt ‘that it would give him a whole lot of satisfaction ca The same might ES ie aso as Say bok Y ges S4 the boy, and taking a glass began to prepare 1 drink. When it was ready he handed it to Coney, who carried it over to the table where Sauires Bea: was holding Jack down. “Now then, my young butter-in, you’ve got om drink our healths, d’ye understand ?” said Squires, a. : glowering down at the boy. “You won’t make me drink | anything Md

Page 21

HIS LAST “Won't I 2 We'll see about that. Come here, Jim, and pry open his jaw with your knuckles.” Jack started in to make a good fight against his persecutors, and one of the first things he did was to give Squires a heavy kick in the shins which caused that rascal to give a yell and let go of his victim. He had injured: his shin that morning and Jack’s boot hit the tender part. As Coney made a grab for the boy, Jack slipped down and crawled under the table, bobbing up on . the other side. Jett made a rush for him for fear he might get away, whereupon Jack dropped to the floor, tackled him football fashion and fairly threw him over his head. The young man Janjled with a crash against a chair and partially demolished it. He rolled over, dazed by the shock. '_ "The other frequenters of the saloon did not in- .,terfere, but they looked upon the fracas with a "great deal of interest. Bill Squires was furious with pain and rage, and started for Jack. with blood in his eyé. The boy was now fully aroused to: the peril of his situation, and all the pluck of his nature came to the front. Never before was af he aware of what was capable in the face of real peril. With compressed lips and fire in his boyish eyes, he snatched up the broken chair, swung it around his head and brought it down on Squire’s head and shoulders with all the force of his sea- soned muscles. The rufflan threw up his arm to ward the blow off, but the chair beat down his guard as if it had been paper, and Squires sank sto: the floor half stunned and bleeding. Then, % without waiting for the astonished Coney to in- -_ terfere, Jack threw the chair at his head. The #3 barkeeper came around from behind the bar with a club in his hand. As he made a dash at Jack, the boy snatched up the glass of drugged liquor and fired glass and all at his face. Jt went as ‘true as Jack ever sent a baseball from short to first base, striking the man in the mouth, cutting his lip and blinding him with the contents. ~ The uproar had aroused the immediate neigh- borhood, and people cs e flocking inte and around the saloon. As J: .« turned to escape he saw that the entrance was blocked up by a hard- looking crowd, capable of doing him up ‘if they »took a notion to. He couldn’t get through them unless they. permitted him to, so he did not dare chance it. He sprang over Squires’ prostrate body, avoided Coney’s outstretched grasp, and - darted for a rear side door. Passing through it - he found himself in a dimly-lit hall, the front end of which opened on the street, while a rear door communicated with a filthy yard. - He made a dash for the front door, which stood a open. Before he could reach it the opening was locked by the mob outside. He turned to retrace his steps, thinking to try the rear door, but was blocked inthis quarter by -the furious Squires, ‘revolver in hand, his face bleeding from contact __. with the broken chair. Behind him came his com- - panion Coney, with a, nastv-looking knife in his hand. He was followed by an angry barkeeper with his club. Jack’s only hope was to reach the stairs and try to outsprint his pursuers to the roof, if need be. As he* made a jump for them - Squires uttered a howl of triumph, raised his ~ revolver and fired. The ball barely grazed Jack’s head, but’ with the ‘sensation that the house had _ fallen in upon him he staggered forward, threw ‘Chicago than here. Less chance of detection the NICKEL 19 up his hands and fell unconscious to the floor of the hallway. CHAPTER XIV—Fire! _When Jack came back to his senses he found himself lying on a rude bed in a miserable room. He was not bound in any way, Nor even gagged. He was not alone, however. Seated at a tabla ~ in the middle of the apartment were Bill Squire, Jim Coney and Curtis Jett. They were playing cards and drinking occasionally. Jack’s face was turned in their direction and he saw them plainly, “What are you goin’ to do with the boy?” asked Jett, dealing the cards around. “Coney and me will fix him, don’t you fear,” replied Squires. “J guess you know how to do the trick if you want to,” said Jett, with a short laugh. “Pll bet we do.” so ae “He’s a spunky chap, all right,” said Jett. “And. - strong—why, he fi me over his head as if I iF was a baby, though it was done by a trick when I was off my guard. I don’t see how he laid you and Jim out so neatly, and sto; ped the barkeep, Seems to be a holy terror when his monkey’s up. “Well, it won’t get up any more, not if Jim and. me know it,” said Squires, darkly. eae ‘e “Do you mean to hush him for good and all?” “You'll never find out from us. Jim and me never tel] what we do.” “Hold on, that’s my twics. ,9u took in,” said Jett, reaching for the cards. “Don’t get. so absent- minded. I want all:that’s comin’ to me.” : 2 “You'll get all that’s comin’ Wt sg some day,” y grinned Squires, sardonically. “Wait till you get we se parere lone of the judges again. You'll get the ‘ull limit. : “And what'll you get if you're pinched? They'h | ae have half a dozen or more indictments against you one and Jim. When you get up the river you're liable By to stay there if somethin’ ain’t found to send you - to the electric chair.” ; r “We ain’t pinched yet. Jim and me are goin’ | West in a day or two, after we get rid of the balance of the stuff he lifted out in Connecticut. You can come with us if you want to.” “T'll come if you'll stand the expense. I haven't | a blamed cent.” ‘ “You never have anythin’. If you want to come. I'll pay your way to a Sele a “Ym your hairpin. I’d like to get out of town. . I’ve an idea that the cops are na to take too much interest in me lately, which isn’t good - for my health. I never was ambitious to get into the limelight. I leave that honor to you and your pard, Jim.” ~ “Talkin’ is dry business. Take the can and go | downstairs. It’s after one, but I guess you’ll find the barkeeper up yet.” in ae No sooner had Jett left the room with the beer in can than Squires got up and dragged a suit-case * forward. é : “We'll have to let Solomon have this stuff, Jim,” he said. ' “The town is gettin’ too hot for us, and : we must light out.” fee “Have it your way, Bill,” replied his pal. “The diamonds and such we'll take with us, I reckon.’ _ “Of course. We can do better with them in _ further we're from the neighborhood where» ¥. a .

Page 22

‘great fault. : Jamentations. ~ racket took place. ghrieking before now started up her toot again. rom “tice. ’ till she grew black im the face, as her husband “were lifted. I’ve got ’em in the bag under the bed. “The silver ia in this. You’d better take it to Sol- _ omon, in the mornin’ and see what you can raise on it.” : “Tl do it.” The two rascals carefully inspected the contents of the bag, Squires taking a note of every piece on a slip of paper, which he put in his pocket. “They had just locked the bag again when Jett re- appeared with the can full of foaming lager. “The barroom was closed, but I didn’t mind that a bit. I’ve got a key that fits the door. I filled _the can from the barrel myself, and got good measure.” *What time is it?” asked Squires. “About two.” : “After you have a fair share of the beer you’d better go. Jim and me have a little job to at- ‘tend to before we turn in.” “You mean the boy, eh?” asked Jett, nodding at the bed. *Don’t get too inquisitive, Jett. That’s your Never butt into other people’s busi- ness. It’s a bad practice.” . The young man grinned and helped himself to a glass of the lager. At that moment. a sudden -. racket arose somewhere downstairs. “Hello! What’s that?” ejaculated Curtis Jett, ‘Opening the door and looking out. The sounds now came up much plainer. A woman was shrieking and the muffled sound ‘of blows seemed to show what gave rise to her “Wickey has come home drunk again and is eatin’ his wife, as usual,” remarked Squires. “It’s _@ wonder she doesn’t brain him with a poker.” The blows ceased, and the woman’s cries stop- ped, but a moment later the sound of a crash came p. : = “He's fallen over a chair or table,” chuckled ‘ett. He was about to close the door when a fresh The woman who had been But it, was a different kind of one. She fled the room out on the landing yelling “Fire!” That is the kind of ery that rk attracts no- The woman might have yelled “murder!” walioped the life out of her, and no one in that house would have thought of interfering; but the moment she commenced to how] “fire!’”’ everybody within earshot began to sit up and take notice. ‘In the stillness of the night, in a crowded tene- ment, the cry carries terror to every soul. The ‘woman fled shrieking “fire!” down the three flights "of stairs, and before two minutes had elapsed the house was in confusion. Wee ‘Curtis Jett rushed out on the landing and peer- ‘ed down over the railing. Bill Squires and Jim “Coney also woke up to the possible seriousness of ‘the situation and followed him. All three hung over the rickety balusters and listened. As the people in the house flocked from their rooms the is ‘excitement grew to fever pitch. — #J don’t see any fire,” said Curtis Jett. _ “I smell smoke, though,” replied Squires, “So do I,” coincided Coney. “Go down on’ the ‘mext floor, Jett, and see what’s wrong,” HIS LAST ment his eyes lighted on the suit-case filled with the silver plate stolen from the house of Lawyer _ Davenport. There was the other case under NICKEL ablaze. That was enough for Curtis Jett. He made no attempt to return, but, bee to the: cH foot of the stairs, yelled up to his frien “Say, Bill and Jim, you’d better sneak at oncel I’m goin’ to turn in an alarm!” This was merely his excuse to make tracks for the street as quick as he could. The smoke rolled up toward Squires and Coney, and they decided to get away. “Come on, Jim,” said Squires, hastily. “We'll get the grips and scoot.” “How about the boy?” Bisse “Let him go up with the house, if it goes: It will save us the trouble of hushin’ him.” They turned around and made for the door of the room. Then they met with a great surprise. They found it shut and bolted on the inside. © “What does this mean?” roared Squires; giving _ the door a kick. “We’re shut out!” “Shut out!”’ gasped Coney. f baie “Yes. That boy must have come to his senses and bolted the door against us.” f “Smash it in!” gritted Coney. “We must get the grips. The whole of our plunder is in ’em.” Bang! Smash! Bang! Both the men kicked away at the panels of the door, and while they exerted themselves with des- perate earnestness the. fire rapidly increased be- low, and the thick smoke floated upstairs and en- veloped them in a dense haze. © CHAPTER XV.—Jack Tries to Save Lawyer. Davenport’s Preperty. When Curtis Jett stepped out of the room to in- vestigate the ery of “Firel’”’. that came ‘from below, and Bill Squires and Jim Coney Yollowed him, Jack Rand sat up and listened to the growing excitement downstairs. There were two windows in the room, and both the sashes were thrown u half-way on account of the heat of the night. Jac slipped over to one and looked out. bright glare from the window almost underneath, and puffs of smoke floating out on the night air. _ “The house is on fire for fair,” he said, excited- ly. “It won’t do for me to stay here if I can help myself. The question is, how shall I get out? I can’t fly, and I can’t pass those rascals outside on the landing,” he added, with an anxious glance over his shoulder in the direction of the door. Looking up he saw that the room he was in was at the top of the building, and that a gutter pip ran along under the eaves close to the top of the window. “TI wonder if I dare trust to that to carry me to the corner of the building?” he asked himself, — with a fearful glance at the dark void below where. the yard lay. “Anything is better than letting those villains do me up in their own way, which” they have been figuring on.” . Finally he resolved to venture to try the air- i He saw a - line, for, as we have already seen, he was a boy — of good nerve. $ stairs and the other two men were still leaning Curtis Jett had just run down-— over the railing. Jack tiptoed to the door, closed — it softly, and shot the heavy bolt. At that mo-

Page 23

bed, containing the jewels and diamonds. He - yushed to the window again to see where he could throw the suit-cases without smashing them all to If he could throw them onto the roof of ea pieces, j ] the house which stood at right angles with the one _ he was in, and which was a story and a half lower, he might be able to get away with them. The only way to do that was to get a good swing on them. At that moment Squires and Coney discovered that they were shut out of the room and com- menced to kick furiously on the panels. Jack paid no attention to them. He ran to the bed, _ grabbed a blanket from it, tied one end to the handle of the suit-case containing the jewels, let the bag out of the window and began to swing it to and fro like a pendulum. ' While he was doing this the fire rapidly in- ~ ereased below, the smoke ascending in volumes, partly obscuring Jack’s sige. _ At the same time / quires and Coney succeeded in smashing in one of the bottom panels. if Coney shoved his arm in and tried to reach the bolt, but it was too far away. At length the ae ‘ goed swing on the suit-case and let go. ne upper panel of the door gave way. Jack saw that beds pabenls would be in the room in another mo- z “The people saw Squires and Coney at the win- dows, and they also saw Jack making his perilous trip along the gutter ‘pipe. rhe kid is workin’ himself along the gutter!” , see he is,” replied Coney. : n he uttered a terrible imprecation. : yonder on the roof of that house, Bill!” - ‘here’s our suit-cases with the low that kid, quires, suiting : HIS LAST NICKEL hissed Squires. ; »: oy must have thrown, them there.” cases from the blan 21° the action to the word by getting out on the win- ~ dow-sill and reaching for the gutter. - ° In another momént he swung off and began. working his way along the same as Jack was doing. After some hesitation Coney followed his example, and now the spectators had a sight of three lives depending on the stability of the gutter pipe under the eaves of the burning building. CHAPTER XVI.—What His Last Nickel Did for Jack Rand. By this time Jack had covered more than half the distance to safety. All his energies of mind and body were concentrated on the nervous ‘grip that kept him from falling, and carried him alon foot by foot towards the waste-pipe at the end of the building, down which he proposed. to slide to reach the roof on top of which he had flung the 2 two suit-cases. At the best, it was a desperate ae journey for the boy. In addition to the ‘possibili- =~ ties of failing muscles, dizziness, and ani uncertain = grip, was the still more probable contingency of mechanical defects in the structure he trusted to. A-single faulty screw, a single flaw anywhere in the whole length of the gutter, was likely to per- _ cipitate him to certain death. And the perils that faced Jack also confronted Squires and Coney as . soon as they started after him. In fact, their perils were greater, for they were many pounds heayier than the boy, and the iron gutter that bore his weight might yield under their pressure. This is just what happened. Barely-had Jack reached : the corner of the building, and, with an intense feeling of thankfulness, seized the waste-pipe to slide down, than he heard a crash behind. A © section of the gutter had given way under Squires? > weight, and with a terrible cry he fell five stories to his death, his body landing.on the flagstones of the yard with a thud that smashed every bone in his body. Coney, coming on behind, as well asthe onlookers, were appalled by the accident. The rascal’s further progress was cut off by the de- struction of at least two yards of, the pipe which had, followed Squires in his downward flight. . Coney could only hang shivering in, the air, = holding on for dear life to the gutter. Forafew —— moments he hung, like Mahomet’s coffin, between the earth and the sky, not knowing what to do to” save himself. Then he recovered his faculties retraced his way a yard, kicked in the nearest ee window, swung himself into the room, thick with smoke, and disappeared. He was never seen again unti] the firemen found his .smothered body in the room after the fire, — which destroyed more than half the building, had been put out. 4 Rae ee In the meantime, Jack reached the roof where — the suit-cases were in safety. There was a scuttle in the center of it, and his first object was-to see — if it was open. -The fire was now under great — headway in the building he had left.» The street” — in front was resonant with the clang of the fire- engines, hose-carts, hook-and-ladder trucks, and patrol wagon that had answered the first alarm. Jack found the scuttle was not secured. — into the upper fico,

Page 24

DA a es <t Ay * 4 22 es foul of many excited people. .No one paid much attention to him, and he made his way to the street, which was around the corner from the burning building. His purpose now was to reach his boarding-house with the suit-cases without any unnecessary delay. It was about half-past two o’clock, and he had never been out so late since he came to New York. He walked up to Forty-. “second Street, through a small crowd of people running to the fire. Turning eastward along that street he hurried forward, with occasional stops for rest, for one of the cases was very heavy, until at length he reached the Ninth Avenue station of the:elevated road. Mounting the stairs of the up- town side he caught ’a train that was just rolling in, and was soon on his way uptown.. Now that ' he had time to think he began to feel sick and faint after the terrible experiences he had been through. At any rate, he looked like a wreck, and the conductor came down to where he sat and looked at him hard. The blood that had flowed from the wound on his head, made by the bullet fired by Squires in the lower hallway, had dried on his collar, neck'and hair, and ‘his face looked. eee The conductor spoke to him, and he told man a. portion of his story, whichy-made his ofp bulge with wonder. Jack reached his board- ing-house at last, and entered without any one being the wiser. He washed himself, dusted his clothes and then went to bed. He didn’t get up until late, and ate his breakfast by himself. The morning papers had an account of the fire, but of course Jack’s name was not mentioned, as his connection with the place was not known. He saw that both Squires and Coney were reported ' dead. He carried the two suit-cases to the office, and told his story to Mr. Ridge, who heard him almost incredulously. “You appear to have escaped by the skin of your teeth, Jack,” he said. “That's what I did, sir,” replied the boy. He lost no time notifying Lawyer Davenport by telegraph that he had recovered the bulk of his stolen property, and the lawyer came on to New York to take charge of it, and to learn from Jack how he got possession of it. Needless to say that J ack’s story amazed him. He showed his appreciation by paying the boy the $5,000 he had offered the detectives to recover it. Lawyer Davenport spread the news of Jack’s re- markable experiences in connection with the re- covery of his property, and the boy became the hero of the hour in) Beechwood. Of course Jack told Flora Sanders all he had gone through, and the girl ‘shuddered at his recital. Naturally he decame a hero in her eyes, too. Jack continued er for Mr. Ridge up to the Best of September, HIS LAST NICKEL when he received:a letter from his father telling him he must return home for school. He hated to resign his job, for he had grown . to like the work, and he thought a whole lot of the lawyer, too, but he was not master of his own actions. He had been calling regularly every Wednesday evening on Flora Sanders, and on the night of his last Wednesday in New York he called as usual. “This is my last evening call on you for some time to come, Flora,” he said. “Your last!” she exclaimed, with beating heart. “Yes, I’ve got to go back home and go to school again.” Then he told her, what he had not done before, how he was the-son of Major Rand, of Beech- wood, and why he had remained in New York and worked in preference to enjoying his vacation at home. She was very much. astonished, and not a little disturbed at the thought of losing him, for in her estimation no other boy she knew could take Jack’s place. Then he made her feel happy by assuring her that he would come on and see her every other Saturday, as he didn’t mean to lose. her if he could help himself. So they parted with that understanding, and Jack kept his promise to the letter. There was still a surprise in store for Jack in connection with his short career in New York which had made quite a man out of him. He had framed his 10,000-share certificate of the Echo Valley Gold Mining Co., that he purehased from poor old John Grant that evening, at the office, and hung it on the wall of ‘his room without any idea that it ever would amount to anything, One morning he read in a New York daily that the mine had suddenly come to life. The report proved to be correct, and the stock . was soon quoted on the Western mining exchanges _ at 25 cents a share. Eventually it went to $1. 50 a share, and Jack realized a profit of $15,000. In fact, Jack laid the whole of his future, happi- ness to that. nickel, for it was really through the nickel he became acquainted with Flora Sanders, who in the course of time became his wife, and the mistress of a handsome residence in Beech- wood. He often wished he could recover that nickel and have it framed in diamonds for his wife, but of course that was an impossibility. However, he never forgot His Last Nickel, and ‘what it did for him. ; ; Next week’s issue will contain “NAT N OBLE, THE LITTLE BROKER; or, THE BOY WHO STARTED A WALL STREET PANIC.” That man over there made five dollars on ate os single pair last evening.” “He doesn’t look ee “= poker player.” “He isn’t. He’s a aaah

Page 25

HARRY THE HALF-BACK | OR A FGOTBALLIST FOR FAIR By GASTON GARNE jo dy gir ee fos (A Serial Story.) CHAPTER VI.—(continued) “Who will you get to take it over to Larch- - mount?” queried Small. - “YT know a kid down in the village who will take it.¥ : “Yes, but Percy, you want to be careful; it might get out that you wrote the note.” ~ “Trust me to look out for myself,” with a self- satisfied smile. : : ae we ay Pe Thorp. 5 “Right away. I'll go down to the village and start the messenger off at once.” “All right; we’ll be here when you get back.” » 'Silkwell donned his hat and left the room and dormitory and strode down the slope to the village of ‘Wrightmore, which was located on the _ shore of Silver Lake, at a point perhaps a quar- _ ter of a mile from the college buildings. ; - Silver Lake was a pretty bit of water, being about three-quarters of a mile long me half a mile wide; it was fifteen to twenty feet deep, and the - _ water was clear as crystal. : : _ Beyond the lake, on the hill at the north side, was Larchmount College, and about a quarter of a mile from there, down by the shore, was - Larchmount Village. % _' Percy was gone about h an hour, and then he came back, with a smile of satisfaction on his - face. : - “You found the kid?” queried Wilkins, eagerly. “Sure thing. He’s halfway to Larchmount - _ College by this time.” ~ “Good! Good!” _ _ The four plotters were well pleased, for they _ thought that the plan might be successful in keep- ~ ing Winslow from playing on the level. In case _ this proved to be true, then Wilkins would be able to play. eins They opened up another bottle of wine and - seme packages of cigarettes—Percy kept a good, - or rather bad, supply on hand always—and pro- - ceeded to enjoy themselves in their own peculiar a wa ae Br Presentl a pack of cards was produced by Percy, and some sits og and blue chips, and _ they began to play poker. ae z Puae dinved till Tong after midnight, and then the three youths dispersed to their rooms,- leay- ing Silkwell to go to bed and dream of the re- _ venge he expected to get over the youth who had given him the thrashing. ~ Next morning about ten o’clock fhomas Jen- nings, coach, and Robert Barton, caytain of the -Larchmount eleven, appeared at Wrightmore Col- lege and asked for an interview with Parker and estley. ted, of course, and soon the four ‘the reading-roomn. FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY we hear, down with the mumps.” regularly enrolled stu 23: The youths talked of commonplace things a 5 few minutes and then Barton, the Larchmount. captain, cleared his throat and said: i “Mr. Parker and Mr. Westley, myself and com- panion have come over here this morning on a: rather unpleasant errand.” ; ; : . Parker and Westley stared in surprise. “Indeed!” remarked the former, wondering: to get at they. what the errand could be. - “Yll wager that they are going to t the game for*to-morrow postponed, so will have more time for practice,’? was Westley’s. thought. But aloud he said: “What is the nature of the errand, Mr. Bar- m, “I will tell you, sir, in a few words. We have: . been informed that you two gentlemen have hired: a_professional football player to come here to play right halfback in place of Sanson, who is, as” Parker and Westley stared at the speaker for a few moments in amazement and then, as the: “When are you going to send the note?” asked* sagen of the words struck them with full force, ey flushed angrily. CHAPTER VII. The Scheme Fails. : 2 Sn ud ange cried Saree. es, who you any such story asf that?” from Westley. 4 sites a “No one told us.” ; 2 go ore ‘3 arton drew a folded paper from his pocket. Sophos a letter,” he said, “Oh, some one wrote to you, eh?” 1 a Westley. Fagin sii —. “Yes,’? “Let’s see the letter,” from Parker. Barton handed it over. Parker and Westley read the letter and then. gave’ utterance to exclamations of anger. 3 “Not a word of truth in it!” eried estley. ee “Is that so?” queried Jennings. There was skepticism in the tones, and the Wrightmore coach and captain detected it. “Yes, it’s so!” from Parker. regularly enrolled student of this college.” ed ‘Hum! How does it happen then that he has. pag i arrived?” Erne “His mother has been very sick, and he could, not come away.” = : ; “Humph!” , Jennings and Barton looked at each other in-~ quiringly. It was evident that they were mute- ~ ly asking each other’s opinion of the matter. “You can prove this?” finally inquired Jenv. nings. “Of course,” from Westley. | “How?” “By Professor Marshfield.” The visitors modded. : reat “If he ey that what you say is the truth, - then we will be satisfied,” said Barton. Soa “Very good,” from Parker; “I will write a note. ~ of inquiry and send it in to the professor.” He wrote as follows: ; : oe “Winslow is a _ “Professor orks a Semel so Ge eat of this ¢ =

Page 26

‘if so, was he enrolled at the beginning of the term ? Please answer yes or no and oblige, as : “Yours respectfully, “ : “Hariey PARKER.” He summoned the janitor, Mike Murphy, gave him the note and told him to take it to Pro- fessor Marshfield. “All roight, sor,” said Mike. “There will be an answer, Mike; wait for it,” called out Parker. “Yis, sor; certainly, sor.” Miké was gone only a few minutes and then he returned and handed Parker the note. Just below Parker’s writing was the one word sn the professor’s bold hand: se a) ; es, es Parker handed the note to Jennings, saying: “You see?” ‘ a eMnes and Barton read and nodded their 5 “Yes, we see,” said the former. “We are satisfied,’ from Barton. “The letter that was sent to you is a willful and malicious lie,” said Westley. “So it seems,” agreed Jennings; “but it is rather a queer affair.” 2 “But I have a suspicion regarding the author . of the letter,” said Parker. “And I,” from Westley. - in : “¥ don’t care to say,” said Parker. “By the -. ‘way, who brought you this letter?” pt “A ragged little chap, probably from the vil- lage. We didn’t know him.” : “Humph! Well, we will likely be able to find out who did the writing.” =f “Very true.” _ *. “May we keep the letter?” = “Certainly.” 6 - “Thank you; we wish to examine the hand- writing at our leisure.” : “J understand; well, we will be getting back. mony will be all ready for the game to-morrow?” es. “That’s good; we’re going to beat you.” Parker and Westley laughed good-naturedly. “Don’t be too sure of it,” said the former. “Our new halfback is a wonder.” “Indeed?” 4 “Yes; he made a run of one hundred yesterday afternoon in practice and scored a _ touchdown.” eS ' “He won’t duplicate the feat to-morrow,” con- fidently. yates “Maybe not; but I should not be surprised if he did.” “The fellow’s name is Winslow, eh?” fs “Yes—Harry Winslow.” 3 “Well, we'll soon prove to Mr. Harry, the Half- -.._backy that he isn’t such a great player as he - thinks,” confidently. - . Qh, he doesn’t think himself a great player.” “Doesn’t he?” with a sarcastic smile. “No; he is a very modest fellow; but he’s a - % o pe at - 4Good-by. Good: by. e always do that.” 9g 725 ro os ane “Who do you:think wrote it?” queried Jen-- “player, ci right, and you want to look out, too.” ss Ey, and Barton took their departure, and FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY as they walked back to Larchmount College, they discussed the affair with interest. They had gone only about a quarter of a mile when out from among the trees that bordered the lake stepped Percy Silkwell and Eugene Small. Jennings and Barton knew the two fairly well and nodded and said “Good-morning.” he two returned the greeting, and then Percy said: “J noticed you coming away from our place just now. What’s the trouble? Is the game to be postponed?” : “No,” replied Jennings, looking at tle speaker, keenly; “we received a letter last evening stat- ing that your coach and per had hired a P bit fessional to play right halfback in place of - son, who is sick, and we came over to see about — i’ eee “Well, what is to be done? Is Winslow going to be permitted to play?” Percy’s tone and air were quite eager, and the two noted the fact. “Yes,” replied Barton. Silkwell’s face fell instantly, and the two noted this also, “Say, you're easy ones if you permit it,” he said, ~ 3 ‘ “You think so?” “Yes; Winslow’s a professional.” “They satisfied us that such is not the case.” “How?” “Professor Marshfield says that Winslow is a pi bead enrolled student, and that he was en- led at the beginning of the term.” Silkwell shook his head and looked wise. “T wouldn’t say that Professor Marshfield-——” he paused, significantly. “However, if Winslow isn’t a professional, then I never saw one,” he added. : “Well, we can’t prove it, and so will have to let him play,” said Jennings. : Then they bade.the two Wrightmore good-morning and walked on. chap that wrote that letter,” said Jennings, when they were out of earshot of the two. “You mean: if : “The other nodded. - ; “ Tthink it likely that you are right.” ’ "Yes; you know, we heard that the new stu- dent gave Silkwell a thrashing last night.” students | “Say, Barton, I’ll wager that I can name the _“True; and he wants to keep Winslow off the. eleven out of revenge, “That’s what I think.” “J would wager that you are not far wrong.” * “Ym sure of it,’ “J have never had a high opinion of Silk- well.” ) “Neither have I.” t “He has the swell-head because His govenor is rich,” ' “Yes, that’s what ails him. He wanted to be the high-much-a-muck at Wrightmore, and this new man has taken the. sta put him outeof the running.” “You aré right.” Meanwhile Silkwell and Small were w out of him slowly toward the college buildings, looking blue and dissatisfied. : (To be continued.) <i eo a

Page 27

NEW ISLANDS DISCOVERED BY JAP- ; ' ANESE EXPLORER The newspapers report that a group of more than ten coral islands, the total value of which is estimated at about 200,000,000 yen, has been dis- covered in the South Seas by a Japanése explorer, M. Inouye. > 7 “ The Japan Geographical Society has started a technical survey of the islands, it is said. They are situated about 350 sea miles off Mindanao Island, Philippines, and the actual position will _ be made public after the discovery is reported to eG International Geographic Association, states _ Mr. Inouye. : : The coral islands are not described in the sea ‘charts, and the largest one is reported to be some 15 miles in circumference. They are uninhabited. RAPID EATING MAY CAUSE CANCER High-pressure living and ha: eating of the modern American is causing a decided increase - in the development of cancer in the oesophagus, - it was announced at the mid-annual meeting of - the Radiological Society of North America. ‘The announcement was made by Dr. J. B. Os- i mond of Cleveland, in a paper which he read, entitled “Obstruction of the Oesophagus.” - “Pyolonged nervous strain and gulping of ~ food,” said Dr. Osmond, “such as many American 2 business men experience today, is highly danger- ous. It is apt to produce what is known as. car- _ diospasm, when the nerves do not co-ordinate and when food which is swallowed does not get - into the stomach, but is retained in the oesopha- 4 gus. <a cause cancer,” he In addit: ‘\ WHISTLING A BLACK ART In Iceland whistling is forbidden as a breach of the divine law, says one of those little para- _ &raphs which newspaper editors put at the bottom as f columns. But there are many other places be- sides Iceland where whistling is frowned down Yr punished. : . é For example, in the dressing of a theatre. It foredooms a play if any one whistles within hear- ing of the players who are “making up for the first performance, according to a very old thea- cal superstitution. On shipboard you must whistle unless you want to br ng on a gale , nd. You may whistle just a little in a calm, f you wish for a bit of wind, but sailors believe FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY GOOD READING 25 you are likely to.get much more than you want. . Whistling after dark is regarded_as unlucky in some parts of England. Any one who catches himself whistling at night must stop immediately and walk three times around ‘the nearest house. The propitiatory walk is hard if the house hap- pens to be one of those castles surrounded by a moat. English miners hold that at no time of day should you whistle in a mine; doing so “is sure’*to bring on a cave-in, an’explosion or other form of disaster. ‘ : Among the races which resent all’ whistling are the Arabs. They say that it is inspired by the Evil One, and that it takes forty days to purify the mouth of the whistler. _ Five years ago’the Governor of Guam, our little island possession in the Pacific, issued an edict against whistling on that Island—presumably in deference to a prejudice of the natives against the practice. _ S MYTHICAL BIRDS OF PREY LONG ILLUSION OF MAN The early regard of man for the great birds of prey is reflected in the mythology of many lands. The legend of the roc or rukh is widely spread in ancient tales of Arabia, Persia and India. The best known of these tales is found in the story of Sinbad the Sailor, says ‘The Mentor.” , t Another incident taken from the Arabian Nights relates to the size of the roc’s éggs, which voyagers mistook for a dome, “white, shining, glistening, more than 100 cubits high.” : Though the roc now appears to’ be purely a” myth, Marco Polo reported that Madagasear was b iconerti of roe = and in ayrogye of his nth century journeyings he tes that : the great khan of the Tartars dispatched two + messengers to the island, who brought back with them a large feather, nine spans long and two spans.wide. In form, Marco Polo said, the roc resembled the eagle, though incomparably great- er in size, being so strong as to seize an ele- phant with its talons and tift it into the air, from -whence it lets it fall to the ground, in order that when dead it may prey upon the carcass.” In 1851 two gigantic eggs and some fragments of bird bones were found on the island of Mada- gascar, and for a time the accounts of monster birds of other days seemed to have verificatton. nfortunately investigation shéwed that while the remains were undoubtedly those of colossal birds, these birds were related to the ostricnes and were incapable of flight. 3 x “Moving Picture Stories” A Weekly Magazine Devoted to Photoplays and Players ; PRICE TEN CENTS PER COPY x 7 x Each number contains Three Stories. of the Best Filme on the Screen—Blegant Half-tdne Scenes from the P; —Interesting Articles About Prominent People in Films—Doings ,of Actors and Actresses in the Studie _ and Lessons in Scenario Writing. : ; HARRY E. WOLFF, Publisher, Inc, 166 West 23d Street = New York City we

Page 28

26 “Fame and F ortune Weekly” Se SETS STS SO NS ee eC USC Wein NEW YORK, DECEMBER 4, 1925 Fn Na ti ec te a lc ee apes or aE TD TERMS TO SUBSCRIBERS Bingle Copies....,. TRIE Sa Pe, Postage Fre ne Copy Three Months.,...... . ‘ nage we ny gonrpel ne Copy Six ‘Months.......... 3 = 2.00 One’ Copy One Year............. a a 4.00 the Coin in a se the envelope. * Address letters to HARRY E. WOLFF, Publisher, Inc., 166 W. 23d St., N. Y. ITEMS OF INTEREST DEFACED COINS Millions of 1 and 5 cents pieces are defaced in the United States annually, and the number of _ these coins returned to be remelted at the Phila- delphia mint in five years would fill five trains fs fifty-six cars each, holding 50,000 pounds to e car, Charles E. Nylander, Seo. Harry E. Wolff, Pres. L. ¥, Wilzin, Treas, RIVER OF DOUBT FISHED BY INDIANS : ' WITH ARROWS Fishing in the South American wilderness. is not done in the accepted American manner with ’ hook and line, but with bow and arrow, and some of the Indians in the jungles between the River of Death and Roosevelt’s River of Doubt are such good shots that they never miss. When they hit the fish they jump into the river and carry the prize to the shore. This method of fishing is des- cribed in an article entitled “Discoveries on the River of Death,” written for “The World’s Work” by Francis Gow Smith. ; “As a fisherman the Caraja Indian is in a class by himself,” writes Mr. Smith. “Instead of asioy hook and line he shoots, fish with the bow an arrow, a difficult feat which taxes to the utmost his skill with that weapon and also his ability to . handle a canoe. Their canoes are dug-outs, made - by burning out the inside of trees, and are some- times more than thirty feet long. In these they will follow a prize fish for hours, maneuvering the boat to a position which will enable them to get a likely shot. Many of the fish are beautifull marked and colored, so it is no trouble to trail them up or down the river. When the Indian has made a lucky shot he unhesitatingly dives into the water and captures his fish—often nearly as big as he is. - : “Often the squaw accompanies her husband, and it is her job to keep the fire burning on some sand in the prow of the canoe. If she does not go - with him she meets him on his return and carries the catch and his weapons up the hill. Then she cleans the fish with a clam shell and cooks it in a big clay pot. which sits out of doors, usually on three stones, which mark the corners of the _ FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY fire, She puts in herbs and vegetables and turns. they get the condensed milk? — ¥ outa fairly savory stew. This is a sort of com- munity mess, being’ apportioned among two or three families who live together and share a com- mon kettle. Each person helps himself, men first, of course, using clam shells for spoons. Gourds are drinking cups-and fruit is passed in baskets, crudely woven of grass, and unpatterned.” é LAUGHS Joe—Is Gill a good judge of cigars? Moe—I think he must be. He had two last nig and he Rave me one. He must have kept the best one. “Does young Jiggsby come by his erratic tem- perament naturally?” handed pitcher.’ _“The baseball player ought to be able to manage his business.” “Why?” “He has several thous- and people handing him advice all through his business hours.” ; Bing—I understand that Shmeltz is lazy. Biff— Lazy! You bet! Why, when he spanks his child he lays a carpet over the kid so that he can do two. ake jobs at once. Tramp—Please, mum, I’m a Belgian refugee. Lady—Are you? “Mention a town in Belgium. Tramp (cogitating a moment)—I would, mum, but they have all been destroyed. ; Officer (to wounded soldier) —So you want me ‘ : to read your girl’s letter to you? Pat—Sure, sir; and as it’s rather private will some cotton wool in your ears while ye read it? “Villain, I defy you,” said the heroine, drawing: herself to her full height. “Do your worst.” “Don’t ask him to do that, miss,” plead h gallery. “His acting is bad enough as it is.” Fogarty (a moderate drinker) —'ll bet. ye th’ a loss i dka.’ . Flaherty (warmly)—Don’t 7 Be ae iv vodka. . Rooshians are beginnin’ t’ feel th’ ] slape ove it. Mar-rk me. wor-ruds, they’ll retake it agate before long. - ee "Mother (at party)—Why did Saphead to kiss pe in the conservatory? “Hello! That you, dearie?” said a familiar voice over the phone. “Don’t keep dinner waiting for me. I’m detained at the office.” “All right,” re- plied wifey, cheerfully. the first game?” cows in the — Mr. Gotham—I see the smallest world are found in the Samoan Islands. ; average weight does not exceed 150 pounds. Thej are about the size of the Merino sheep. Mrs Gotham—Do you suppose, dear, “that is whe ates 2 2 “Yes; his mother was a. grand opera singer and his father was a left- ; ; ou please stuff a “What was the score in — ed a voice from the _ f

Page 29

Pn FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY 27 Bee % - CURRENT NEWS MONEY MACHINE REVIVED John Koposa, proprietor of a drinking place, _ Niagara Falls, N. Y., was swindled out Of $2,500 _ by two strangers who demonstrated to him a _ Machine which they asserted would double the amount of money placed in it, according to awre- port made to headquarters detectives. Koposa was induced to place the $2,500 in the machine. : The strangers left the machine with Koposa and were to return to take the money from the device. When they did not appear Koposa broke open the machine and found only newspaper clip- . pings. MOUNT SHASTA GETS WARMER Unusual conditions in the vicinity of Mount Shasta, near Redding, Ont., have given rise to the _ belief among many that the old crater is getting . wTeady for volcanic activity. Investigations by the United States Bureau of _ Fisheries show that water of the McCloud River __ is four degrees warmer than normal; that the __ $urface of Mount Shasta is warmer than usual; : at the mud flow is increasing, and that grass is dying in meadows much earlier than usual. Heat in the depths of the mountain is believed to be the cause of the peculiar conditions. FIND MASTODON SKELETON The skeleton of a mastodon believed to be in an _ almost perfect state of preservation has been dir- covered near the plant site of the Orange and Rockland Light and Power Company at Monroe, _-mear Middletown, N. Y., by excavators. ; _ _ &. W. Smith, President of the company, or- E dered the digging halted pending arrival of scientists from the New York Museum of Na- of bone which later was found to be a tooth o - the . The tooth is eight inches long and _ six inches wide. Another tooth and also the skull 2 was uncovered. e SOMETHING ABOUT ICELAND . _ Ieeland has been a sovereign state since 1918 _ united with Denmark under the sovereignty of _ King Christian X, is an island situated in the % “North Atlantic Ocean, 500 miles north of Scot- ~ land and 180 miles east of Greenland. . ae an ation in ee ont one-quarter per cent of the island is culti- a ittle developed, and there are no manufactures, The language is Icelandic, which is closely re- ed to the Anglo-Saxon of olden times. ; = PULVERIZED COAL MAY REPLACE OIL An invention which may alter the development of the oil-burning type of steamship and bring the burning of coal back as the principal fuel for the operation of vessels has been explained to the Shipping Board. : The new system, which is the invention of. G. H. Kaemmerling, head of the research ‘depart- ment of the Fuller-Lehigh Company, has as its principal. unit the “pit furnace.” A special feat- ure calls for the utilization of a coal crusher on board ship., This will pulverize bituminous coal, - which' is then conveyed to the furnace by an ap- paratus that will feed it under a blower system | ~ to four burners, two of which are on opposite sides of the furnace. Fuel passing through these burners will form a fiame spiral which will give complete ignition. E ; One of the important features of the new sys- tem is economy. Fuel oil now sells at $15 a ton, whereas bunker coal is quoted at $5 a ton. With the new plan the poorest quality of bituminous coal meg be used. The method of having the coal crushed on board is to eliminate danger of spon- taneous combustion. Bees The invention insures the utilization of 80 per cent of the heat thrown off by the coal, whereas the ordinary coal furnace wastes at least 25 per cent of itsenergy.. NEW GIANT NEBULAE IN THE HEAVENS Two clouds of white hot gases, each so-vast as to be capable of engulfing not only the solar sys- tem but many of the nearest stars as well, have been found in two different parts of the sky, ac- cording to an announcement by Prof. Harlow Shapley, director of the Harvard College Obser- vatory. One is in the Great Magellanic Cloud, a . ¢ luminous area in the constellation of Dorado re- sembling a detached piece of the Milky Way. It can only be seen from points in the Southern — Hemisphere, but the other one is in the constel- | lation. of the Triangle, which is visible in our- northern skies in the early winter. It is con- nectéd with a spiral nebula, Messier 33. Se Both of these objects have been known for some | time, although they-are- only visible with a large — telescope and are known only by their numbers in the new general catalog of such objects. The southern one is referred to by astronomers as N. G. C. 2070 and the other as N. G. C. 604. De- terminations of their actual size, however, have only been made possible by. recent determinations of their distances. ; : Using these measures of ‘the distances, it is found that the diameter of N. G. C. 2070; is 26449 light years and for N. G. C. 604 it is 198 light. years, so that if the eartl» were placed at the center of either one not only would the sun and planets of the solar syStem be included in it but so also would a large number. of stars we see in’ the sky. Both objects are much greater than the more familiar gaseous nebulae, such as the one __ in. Orion, which is bait about three light years , in diameter, less than the distance from us nearest. known stah.. 0 5-e P

Page 30

"13s FROM ALL POINTS “DOLLAR DOWN” WINS BERLIN German retailers are awakening to the possi- bility of a great extension of business through sales on the instalment plan. Some of them are sending a special commission to the United States to study the methods in this country. Be- fore the World War buying on the instalment plan was frowned upon by the German aristo- erats as the wrong way to do business. The inflation period and the change in the economic. situation, . however, have upset. this ‘prejudice, but retailers thus far have been un- _ willing to: sell extensively on time, because they lack the facilities to protect themselyes against swindlers, such as getting proper information of the credit rating of prospective customers. GOLD.FROM MERCURY EXPERIMENT Is FIZZLE The formula, if it ever existed, of ancient al- chemists for turning baser metals into gold ap- z -parently died with them. So reported the Scien- af tific American, disclosing the failure of investi- gators, after nearly~a year’s research, to turn mercury into gold, as Prof. Adolph Miethe, Ger- man chemist, declared he had done. Practically, the report says, the metamorphosis is impossible. Theoretically, removal of one unit of positive electric charge from the nucleus of a «mercury atom, or insertion of one additional elec- ~~ ron, might reveal the alchemists” secret. ; ~ Financed by the Scientific American, investi- gations’ were made at the Washington Span - branch of New York University by Prof. H. H. Shelley, physicist, and Roger. S. Estey, who reported failure in three attempts, using Prof. Miethe’s method of heating mercury, inside a quartz vessel, by a specially designed electric lamp. - POPPING OF CORN CAUSED BY MOISTURE 4 IN KERNEL The reason for|the Derg Ot ae deme Je hoe oie he nutrition division of iculturé has made numer- FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY WORK & WIN Stories About Fred Fearnot We can still supply the following numbers of the “Fred Fearnot” stories; Price 8 Cents Each 1336 red Fearnot'’s Search for Smith; or, The Man Who Could Not Be Found. - td ry uf TF bs 183% *“ a the Fair; or, Shaking Things Up at Shag- own. ; § 1338 ‘* Hunted; or, A Plot That Was Hara co Solve. : 1339“ ee) ine Boy Boxer; or, Giving a Pugilist oints. 1340 “ ponipetaree Play; or, Fighting Drink with the rama. 1341 “ Death Slide; or, Down the Great Mountain Flume. 1342 “ Call by Wireless; or, the Friend Who Played him false. 1343 “ and the Queer Quartette; or, Jim, Jack, Joe and Jerry. 1344 “ and the Girl Telegrapher; or, Fi; 1345“ ‘Pry for Goals 0} e ‘ re Ee ry for Goal; or, nning in the L 1346 “ Indian Boy; or Civilizin Pe ovage. i 1347 “* by Sa Sacrifice! or, ‘ALL for the Sake of a end. 1348 “ and “Tired Tim”; or, The Laziest Boy in Town, 1349 Me Football Giants; or, Handling a Heavy Lins, 1350 as So Trip; or, A Week ™m the Crystal 1351.“ on the Fur Hunters; or, A Trip to Hudson's ay. : 1352 “ Long Pass; or, The Play. That Puzzled All 55 1353 “ and the “Dutch Flyer’: or, : % _ "Champion Skater.” 5 Tb: Again, ren 13m4 “ i ‘ark; or, The Hindoo’s Strange Warn- 1355 “ Ice Cutter; or, The Fastest Boat 1356 “ snd ae Boy Millionaire; or, On ite sey] uin. ‘: Ae: 135% “ Hockey Winners; or, A Hot Game on the Ice, 1358 “ Five-Mile Slide; » The Tob i Mountains, Sree i a ge ce 1359“ ah wens Danger; or, Dealing with the Wharf 1360 "in Se Gym; or, Winter Sport with College Oy8. t 1361 “ and the Buried Gold; or, Fightin rica Bandits, Wie ene, 1362“ Pecan Piles or, The Mystery of Stateroom 1363“ Hundred-Mile Race; or, Ten Hours = 1864“ ee Shipping Clerk; or, Saving on onest — 1366 “ and “Hard Luck Harry”; aan Always in Trouble. > set a 2 1367“ pil tea ng Drive: or, The Champions of the 1368 “. and the Indian Queen; or, The “Bad” ; s the Trading Post iI cay 13 “Cross Country Run; or, Wi reat . mbabper Chase. : Serie. 5 1370 * bh orbs Boh or,.In the South with a Base-— < ; 1371“ and Little Dick; or, The Trials of . Poor — Working Boy. a 4972 .03* ye Giants; or, Winning the Opening ame, j u 1373 “* Bey psc ane or, Brave Work On the each. 1374" at hope Pine; or The Mystery of the Moonshine | amp. 1875 ‘“ Playing the Game; or, Out With His ‘ine, ie Road fiderss on, Bustling With Rousse wm 1377 “ and the Battery Boys; or, After the arf Rats, 1378 ‘ Clever Curves: or, Beating Out the Batsmen. 1379 ‘© Island Mystery; _or, Camping in Canada, ‘Boy Marvel; or, Bringing Out a Young Pitcher, 1380 By 1881.‘ Hard Pull; or, besa 3 the Single Pe ; 1382.‘ Among the Poor; or, The Dark Side af ane ffag =< . Any of the above numbers will be mailed to you ae postage free, upon receipt of the price in money, oF postage stamps. , : : fae HARRY E. WOLFE, PUBLISHER, INO, ppsuale 166 West 28rd Street, bie Fae New ‘York, Me Xe ees

Page 31

FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY HERE AND THERE TORTOISE CAN’T HEAR Tortoises are either deaf or stupid, according to Popular Science Monthly. Most water snakes eannot hear at all, but land snakes often have acute hearing. These interesting conclusions were reached by Ryo Kuroda of the College of Niigata, Japan, after extensive experiments with reptiles. BY ar Wi S222 > A LONG FENCE Stretching across Western Australia is a rabbit- _ “tight fence, said to be the longest in the world. : It extends for a distance of 1,200 miles, without a break, except for gates. It begins in the temper- ate regions and ends in the tropics, and sometimes for nearly a hundred miles it never passes a hu- man habitation. The fence is divided into sec- tions, each of which is under the control of an inspector, These inspectors have boundary riders, whose duty it is ta constantly ride up and down + their section of the long barrier, and keep it in ‘effective condition. Since the fence was erected it has prevented hordes of rabbits from over- running and devastating the region beyond. ‘We SECRET OF SLEEP UNSOLVED _. An American doctor has been trying to find a substitute for sleep. Speed has been the cry of - civilization these many years and this particular tute for sleep, man’s span of activity would be considerably lengthened. He calculated that we spend about one-third of our lives in more or less + uncdénsciousness and that the average man of 51 years has been asleep for seventeen years. The doctor thinks the world would be more “advanced” f this seventeen years were spent in actual pro- uction, so he tried to evolve a pill, or powder, or ‘dose of medicine that would perform the miracles of sleep. He failed. But he did discover some interesting facts about of his research. He found of sleep is more béneficial in _ strength of all of the brain cells. Until recently ~ very little was known of these cells. They were ‘Studied under the microscope and clearly seen. ‘They were stained with various dyes so that they howed up quite clearly against the rest of the Drain te Then it was noticed that sometimes : in so well or so darkly as at . They were pale and “indistinct in- clear and dark. Some substance ells that stained well contained was doctor believed that, if he could find some substi- _ the cells that stained badly and dis- Harry Glick ”*The American Sandow,” says— EVERYBODY CAN BE STRONG! $1 ONLY Will Bring You At Once The Greatest Course In the World For HEALTH — STRENGTH and DEVELOPMENT SEND FOR IT NOW! Harry Glick | 1476 Broadway, New York City Dear Sir: I enclose 10¢ for which send meat once your course for Health—Strength and De- velopment. Name. ...cses Iwiscdpes bes Seae shes b cece vewssceb pn 29 a gem em gy ey TREAT EST mattea on j FREE TRIAL, f { curse, ASTHMA RE Ses a PD Bilan 9 Old Money Wanted Will pay $100 for 1894 Dime, S. Mint., $50.00 for 1913 Liberty Head Nickel (not Buffalo). Big premiums paid for all rare coins. Send 4c for Large Coin Folder, May mean much profit to you. NUMISMATIC C€O.. Dept. 436 Ft. Worth, Tex. 4or6?. g = Cut to Barrel eee en eer —- : 6-Shot Finest) "4 ~ 8 Long Range Kevolver eS ihe sup. ““free’* a! you : = our price any- i or 6 in. Darrel, Pr blue or nickel—32, 38-or 22 iber. Pow ,accurate,hard * _ Bayon dahvery Se8G, pederal se my 7 ~ iy poe

Page 32

- Show Card Lettering Learn at Home Here j is the very course. you need if you want to get a good paying position asa Show Card Letterer or Sign Letterer, or have a business of your own. This course is complete and practical and especially arranged to meet the needs of the student who studies at home. It was "written by E. L. Koller, Principal of the’ School of Art of the International Cor- respondence Schools, member of the _ American Federation of Arts, and The National Society of Craftsmen. Mr. Koller has had twenty years’, teaching’ experience, and his success in helping other men and women is ‘an indication of what he can do for you. H. L.' Wood, a clerk, made more. than $700 “‘on the side”’ hefoke he had completed his course and also won $125 in prizes.. Harry William Lord writes that he has more than doubled his salary as a result of studying this I. C. S. course in spare time. former wagon builder, now has a sign painting business of his own and is earn- ing nearly three times as much as he did before enrolling with the International . Correspondence Schools. The International Correspondence Schools are “the oldest and largest . correpporidence schools i in the world William Whitman, a> 1 There-is no doubt that Stow Cat Lettering and Sign Lettering offer a real opportunity to ambitious men and women. Just mark and mail the cou- pon and we'll gladly send you a booklet telling all about the I. C. S. course. in| Show Card Lettering, or any other sub- ject in whi you: are interested. INTERNATIONAL CORRESPONDENCE SCHOOLS Box 4491-D, Scranton, mal ‘Sap gear Withou on, can qualify ty for the position or in the vanjeet obetate nich I ty ue C18HOW CARD LETTERING Business Management Salesmanship Industrial Management Advertising Personnel Organization Eta - ‘oment, Hepes 03s Law Stenography and Typ’ Banking and Banking Law Business English a Accountancy (including O.P.A.) Civil Service Niel Accounting y tk . Rookkeeping . amon School Subjosts Private tary ‘High School Subfects Span! MNlustrating TECHNICAL AND I{NOUSTRIAL COURSES Electrical Engineering * Architect Electric Lighting Architects’ Blueprints Mechanical Engineer Contractor and Builder Mechanical Draftsman Architectural Draftsmes Practice ’ Concrete Builder Railroad Positions Structural Engineer ~ as Engine Operating poeniaey Pharmacy Civil Engh Automobi ‘ork Surveying and Ma) Ese Airplane Bnginos pera) lurgy Ageipaltary? and Poultry Stoam Engineering Min Radio Mathomatics Name nee sesesnneeneneee edesr veces MAATOGS........,00-.corresrenrsneeosensosensnsnenscosseersscaseeenseee oneatetasseerserenesarerseensnanent CHEY:..ssersndecnsciocarsunssoasiveqneetianseoessyse SUCORD. i5is:09 sescenquetascocoiemnstrbqssbeniiall

Page 33

RADIO “RECORDS” . An innovation in broadcasting ‘was recently an- nounced by the Vienna press. _ It is the invention by the Austrian ray expert, Mor- engineer, ‘ ~~ Loeritzo, which they possible the fix- ing of - broadcast sounds, be if by a maphone fre- et and the rendering of them later at will any ~ number of times. “The principal part of the in- vention consists -~ of disks on which the broadcast - sounds are re- corded by & spiral con- sisting, not o deeper or shal- - lower impressions as on a grama- hone record, but {ine of points more or less strongly magnet- ized according to _ the strength or quantity of . the sound, Jt is also pos- sible to run down only certain parts of this record, _ skipping others. The disks are de- - magnetized by a - gimple process ‘and may be used again. The oe inventors a not “declare 4 have dis- covered any new principle, but Wave combined scientist and X-!| enc Levy, and the | ce Frank | say makes | LITTLE ADS Write to Riker & King, Advertising Offices, 580 Broadway, New York City, or 29 East Madison Street, Chicago, for par AGENTS WANTED IF YOU WANT $96 A WEEK, a permanent business, an honest company, and an Essex coach, without a cent of expense, write now. | I need 100 men and women quick to take orders for Jennings hoalery. Don’t delay. Send postcard now for details. ‘The Frank $150.00 TO $400.00 WEEKLY selling Start Rite Switch for Fords. To start car just | retard spark lever; saves bendix and starter | trouble; secure demonstrator; write a7 4 | for et and proof of $1,810.00 monthly profit. Dept. 1115, National Sales Co., Inc.,Cofn, Iowa. AGENTS: NO COMPETITION selling Hm tacles, guaranteed to satisfy, only $3.98. Pay daily. We deliver collect. Nearly every- body buys. $10.00 - $25.00 daily easy. True Fit Optical Co,, CW117, 1528 W. Adams St., Chicago, Ill. AGENTS—WRITE FOR FREE SAMPLES. Sell Madison “Better-Made"” shirts for large Manufacturer, direct to wearer. No capital, or experience required, Many earn $100 weekly and bonns. Madison Mfgrs., 608 Broadway, New York. NEW CAMERA takes and finishes photes - in one minute. Make money selling cam- eras, or taking photos. Exclusive territery. Crown Dept. 967, Norwalk, Conn. HELP WANTED DETECTIVES needed everywhere. Big pa Gr gps ee unnecessary, easily learned i to 45, write Bar] Wilcox, 1407 Lafayette Ave, 8K, Grand Rapids, Mich. DETECTIVES NEEDED EVERYWHERE. Work home or eave ene enes unneces- sary. Write George agner, former Govt. Detective, 1 Broadway, N. Y. PERSONAL ARE XOU LONESOME? Write Betty Lee, Inc., Box 820 City Hall Station, New York City. Stamp appreciated. LONELY HEARTS—I have a eweetheart for see. Exchange letters: inake new friends. Efficient, confidential and dignified service. Members everywhere. Eva Moore, Box 908, Jacksonville, Florida. B. Jennings Co., Dept. L-224, Dayton, Ohio. about advertising in this magazine MARRIAGE PAPER—20th yenr. Big issue Z with ey gin ch phates, Preeker and oe resser. cente. No other fee. Bent sealed. x 2265, BR, Bestom, Mass. MARRY—Free photographs. directory and Geecriptions of wealthy members. Pa when married. New Plan Co., Dept. rf ‘Kaneas City, Mo. PRETTY GIRLIE, wealthy, but oh so lone-. some. League, Box 39, Oxford, Fin. MARRY—MARBRRIAGE DIRECTORY with, photos and descriptions free. when married. The Exchange, Dept, 045. City, Mo. 1% “i ¥, Kansae. MARRY.—Write fer big mew directory with. Photos and 4 ene, Free. National emg A Dept. A, 4606, Sta. BB. Kansas City, Mo. GET A SWEETHEART. Exchange letters, Write me enclosing stamp. lolet Ray, Dennison, Onio. PRETTY GIRLIE, wealthy, hut oh so fone- some. League, Box 39, Oxford, Fla SWEETHEARTS for everybody. Stamped cee for proposal. The Lily Club, Station H, Cleveland, Ohio. bike a oom WIDOW Pte oo .00, lonely, will marry. va -1022, Wichita, Kaneas. janet : SONGWRITERS SEND TODAY for free copy Writer's Di- pent — wd to write and sel oan en, otoplays, poems, songs. ter’s. Digest, &-22, KE. 12th St., Cineinnati. > MISCELLANEOUS FOR A DIME (coin) I will tell the da week for any date for the last 400 G. EB. Hayes, Box 157, Newberry, 8» C TOBACCO OR SNUFF HABIT CURED OR no pay. 1.50 if cured. Remedy sent on trial. Superba Co., N4, Baltimore, Maryland, of the yeare. IMPLE —~ Blackheads—Acne Eruptions Now Are Easily Removed at Home at a Smali Cost! Banish those unsightly blemishes easily and anickiy Pimples, Blackheads, Acne Eruptions on the by using “CLEAR-TONE”—a simple home trea’ ich, Eczema, Enlarged ment that has cured chronic cases of long years Skin—never mind how standing. Use like toilet water. Leaves the skin clear, smooth and without a blemish. Has made many friends with men, women and children. Elegant for men after serie, If you have |FREE elements 4nto something | decidedly novel. _ The. invention, - wireless 1 ssion of pic- don sig- “ACLEAR-TONE SKIN," telling iow I = 82 $00 COLD GASH ‘SAYS i CAN OF THE ABOVE BLEMISHES. Linas post E.S.GIVENS 186 Chemical Building

Page 34

boy should obtain one of t ; ing fall directions for all kinds OUR TEN-CENT HAND BOOKS Useful, Instructive, and Amusing. They contain Valuable Information on Almost Every Subject. . 1. NAPOLEON'S ORACULUM AND DREAM pooK—Containing the great oracle of human destiny; algo the true “meaning of almost any kind of alprige | together with charms, ceremonies and curious games © a HOW TO DO TRICKS.—The great book of saaigie tea eard tricks, containing full instructions on all leading card tricks of the day, also the mest popular sions as performed by our leading magi- — sar boy Boe, obtain a copy of this book. No. 3 HOW TO ¥LIRT.—The arts and gates flirtation are fully explained by this wire be PRs’ gides the various methods of handkere’ ef, an, ave, parasol, window and hat flirtation, it contains a s of the language and sentiment of flowers. HOW TO DANCE is the title of this little wert It contains aod sunteneters: — the eee pgp ene eti- quette in ctlons for calling in all popular square one 8 lete guide to TO MAKE LOVE—A complete & aie % 5 orteRip and marriage, giving sensible advice, rales and etiquette to be observed, with many curious te enerally known. and interesting things ot SoU ATHLET £.—Gtving sNo, & HOW se of dumbells, Indian club, ~ os structions fr cal bars and various other metho«s paral r ood, healthy muscle; containing over ° sixty WlusteW TO KEEP BIRDS.—Handsomely tllus- Final a containing full instructions for the manage- No. 4. ining of the canary, mockingbird, bobolink, Quist .— lished. - ent LOOK CW’ X.—The art of self-defense made ee over thirty illustrations of guards, diffe: ositions of a good boxer. Every hese useful and instructive it will teach you to box without an in- 4 TE LOVE-LETTERS.—A most ecto phe aac full directions for writ- to use them, giving specimen structor. oo ae little book, v uJ compl rletters, and when Tetters for OW and WRITE LETTERS TO LADIES. Bon eg complete instructions for writing letters to ladies on all subjects; also letters of introduction, notes oe Meat Zs ; Or, BOOK OF ETIQUETTE. [ae ae 105e i and one that every youne mi desires to know about, There's happiness in It. Ne Ww TO MAKE C ema book for making all kinds of candy, ice-cream, sy 5 essences, ete. , i TO BECOME BEAUTIFUL.—One 0 Sr Ue coat cand host valuable little og hs styen to the world. Everybody wishes to re - i 2 come beautiful, both male and female. e sec i ag ape TOW COS eee NTERTAIN AN EVENING PARLY.—A most complete compendium of games, sports, card diversions, comic recitations, etc., suitable for par- lor or drawing-room entertainment. It contains more for the money than any book published. 7 iti No. 23. HOW TO EXPLAIN DREAMS.—This 8 book gives the explanation to all kinds of dreams, to- gether with lucky and unlucky days. No. 24. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS TO GENTLE- MEN.—Containing full directions for writing to gentle- men on all subjects. BECOME A GYMNAST.—Contain- No. 25. HOW TO of gymnastic sports oe itic exercises. Embracing thirty-five ustrations, By Professor W. Macdonald. : ‘For sale by all newsdenters, or will be sent to any address on receipt of price, 10c, per copy, in money or stamps, by ~ "HARRY E. WOLFF, Publisher, Inc. - ANDY.—A complete hand» ‘New York City 196 west 22d Strees Fame and F ortune Weekly — LATEST IssvUns — 999 For Fame and Fortune; or, The Boy Who Won Both. 1000 A Wall Street Winner; or, Making a Mint of Money. 1001 ae tay to Wealth; or, The Boy Who Found uu 1002 “er ee Wing; or, The Young Mercury of Wall reet. 1004 Jugeling with the Market; or, The Boy Who Made ay. 1005 Cast Adrift; or, The Luck of a Homeless Boy. 1006 Ek cde the Market; or, A Keen Boy in Wall reet. ‘ 1007 A Pot of Money: or, The Legacy of x Lucky Boy. 1008 From Rags to Riches; or, A Lucky Wall Street Messenger. 1008 On His Merits: or, The Smartest Boy Alive. 1010 Trapping the Brokers; or, A Game Wall Street Boy, 1011 A Million in Gold: or, The Treasure of Santa Cruz. 1012 Bound to Make Money; or, From the West to Wall Street. ‘ 1013 Tne Boy Magnate; or. Making Baseball Pay. 1014 Making Money; or, A Wall Street Messenger’s Li 1015 A Harvest of Gold; or, The Buried Treasure o Coral Island. eu 1016 On the Curb; or, Beating the Wall Street Brokers. 1017 A Frenk of Fortune; or, The Boy Who Struck Ol. 1018 oo Prince of Wall Street; or, A Big Deal for Big oney. / ‘ 1019 Startin A His Own Business; or, The Boy Who aug n. = z 1020 A a In Wall Street: or, The Wall Street Boy ; o Won. 1021 First in the Field: or, Doing Business for Himself, 1022 A Broker at Eighteen; or, Roy Gilbert’s Wall Street Career. 1023 Only a Dollar; or, From Errand Boy to Owner. 1024 Price & Co., Boy Brokers; or, The Young Tradera of Wall Street. 1025 A Winning Risk; or, Thé Boy Who Made Goo 1026 From a Dime to a Million; or, A Wide-Awake Wall Street Boy. 1027 The Path % la Luck; or, The Boy Miner of Pa alley. 1028 Mart orton'¢ Money; or, A Corner in Wall Street ocks. 1029 Famous at Fourteen; or, The Boy Who Made a Great Name.’ 1030 aon To Fortune; or, A Lucky Wall Street Deal. 1031 St: ra His Gait; or, The Perils of a Boy En- neer, : 1032 From Messenger to Millionaire; or, A Boy's Luck In Wall Street. - 1033 ‘The Boy Gold Hunters; or, After A Pirate's Treasure. : 1034 Tricking the Traders; or, A Wall Street Boy’a Game of Chance. : 1035 Jack Merry’s Grit; or, Making a Man Of Himself. 1036 A Golden Shower; or, The Boy Banker of Wail Street. ; 1087 Making a Record; or, The Luck of a Working Boy. 1028 A Fight For Money; or, From School to Wall Street. - : 1089 Stranded Out West; or, The Boy Who Found a Boatman. 1040 Ben — ie ie Luck; or, Working on Wall Street Tips. 1041 A Young Gold King; or, The Treasure of the Secret Cave. 1042 Bound To Get ‘Rich: or, How A Wall Street Boy Made Money. 1043 Beinn dies Frank; or, The Boy who Became ‘famous. = : 1044 A pay or, The Young Weazel of Wall tree! 1045 Plucky Bob; or, The Boy Who Won § uccess. 1046 From Newsboy to Banker; or, Rob Lake's Rise in \ Wall Street. 1047 A Golden Stake; or, The Treasure of the Indies. 1048 A Grip On the Market; or, A Hot Time In Wall Street. 1049 Watching His Chance; or, From Ferry Boy to Cap- ain. » ey 1050 A = ae Gold; or, The Young King of Wall treet. 1051 A Wizard for Luck; or Getting Ahead in the World. 1052 A pig 82d at Stake; or, A Wall Street Messenger’s eal. “Tp ev, ey ee Tora For sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any — a address on receipt of price, 8c. per co in money or stamps, by = HARRY K, WOLFF, Publisher, Inc, aig Mow York als

Page 35

n> aes THE ME NOVEL EXCHANGE ae e Lack box 8 Fernumevilo, Mats US.

Page 36