Fame And Fortune Weekly (no. 1113) (1927 01 28)

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No. 1113 NEW YORK, JANUARY 28, 1927 pi. § Cents UNG LUMBER KING 1 E BOY WHO WORKED fils WAY Wr Se . sta? a0 Se ea a ‘ed could feel the jar made by each stroke of the axe. soon be sailin’ down toward the rapids,” laughed Silas McBee, sardonicaYy, the tree began to tilt over toward the river

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3 Bos ee ie SSR ARTS Vo “How far is the nearest town?” = =

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“Thirty miles down the river.” . The boy lIgoked around upon the wild and romantic tentacabe: with its river hard by, its hills covered with thick forests of pine, maple, oak and other varieties, and its mountains in the background, across which the setting sun cast - ~ broad bands of light and shadow. ; “You wouldn’t sénd me adrift in this place, sir. I’d get lost at once and’ starve to death,” said the boy. ; ~The fact was obvious, and the superintentent : stared at the lad. 5 “Where did you come from?” as asked. “Lake Chesuncook.” “How did you get here?” : “J came down the river on a raft, which went wasn’t in the habit of being addressed as ister Scott, plain Sol being what he was called ww the boy was a stranger and wondered how he come to the camp. © * am Sol Scott,” he replied. “What do you shake him at the first chance. In that . The cook swung around and stared at the boy. ‘everybody from the superintendent down. He y _ 7cept it might be sonny, whi A YOUNG LUMBER KING Here hired me to act as your helper. He said were short handed.” = _ “McBee hired you to help me, eh?” said the cook in some surprise. ; ; “Yes, I guess that’s his name.” . “He is the boss of the camp. His name is Silas McBee, and if you intend to stay here you want to mind your P’s and Q’s when he’s around. He’s a terror and no mistake, but you. mustn’t let him know I said that,” added the cook in a subdued tone. “Why should I? You’re to be my boss, not he.” “But he’s your boss, too. What’s your name?” Fred told him. ; ; “T like your face and manner, and I hope we shall be friends.” “Tt won’t be my fault if we are not,” replied Fred _ cheerily. E “That’s hearty now. I know T shall like you. Peel off your coat and I’ll show you what to do. By the way, where are your duds?” : “Haven’t any.” “Ain’t you got a grip or something with a change of clothing, and other odds and ends?” ~+¥* asked Scott in astonishment. “No. You see the whole of me asI stand.” _ “Why, how’s that?” d Fred told an imaginary story of hard luck, ex- . plaining how he had got separated from the hunt- ing party at Lake Chesuncook. . “You’ve had quite a hard time of it, sonny,” said Scott. “Yes. When the raft went to pieces and If landed on the bank of the river hungry and just ~ as I stand, in the midst of the wilderness, I thought my time had about come.” “You’re hungry, you say?” asked the cook, in a symovathetic tone. “Hungry!” replied Fred. I’m famished!” “Sit right down at that table, sonny, before | you do a bit of work. Il] see that you get some- _ thing to make you feel better. I’ve been hungry | myself at different times in my life—once I nearly ~ starved to death in a long boat at sea—and I know how it feels.” He put a plate of bread and butter, and some sold sliced venison before Fred, and then he ~ handed him a'tin cun of pure cold water. eee “T haven’t made the coffee for supper yet,” he — said, in. an apologetic tone, “so you'll have to wait till later on for that. Just sail in and eat ~ your fill and then you can start in and help me.” __ Fred needed no urging, and the way he made the vrovender disappear was a caution. He ate as though he never exnected to have another meal, and Sol Scott watched him approvingly. == _—- Fred occasionally glanced at the cook out of the corner of his eyes. He was a queer old chap, but the boy felt that he was all right, and he was sure that he would get on with him, for coe liked him already. When Fred had cleaned up ~~ the plates Scott asked him if he wanted any more. eG “No, that will last me for a while. I feel like a new boy already. I’m very much obliged to — ou. Mr. Scott.” 2 Se “Hold hard, sonny, don’t mister me. My handle is Sol, and you mustn’t call me nothin’ else.” “All right, and you call me Fred.” E ere “Of course, «I wouldn’t call you it “Don’t mention it. — ae

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You won’t need to set the table in the long room where the men eat till the things are washed up after supper, then you can set it so’s to have it ready for mornin’. Now, just put’some of that wood in the corner into the stove, and stir the pots in succession till I tell you to do somethin’ 4 else.” - “Fred busy and did so well that the cook was tickled to death with him. 2 “We're goin’ to get on first-class together. I h the boss’ll let you stay with me. I need ahelper bad, and I rather cotton to you. There’s somethin’ about you I like, and when I take to a chap he’s all right.” <a The cook found his duties much lightened, and the cheerful way that Fred conversed made time pass in a highly satisfactory way to the old man. At length the whistle of the sawmill sounded and the men knocked off work. They came in singly and in pairs to a trough on the outside of the cook-house, where there were soap, towels and water to wash up, and then filed into the long dining-room, which. was merely a rough, unfin- - ished shed, protected from the weather by layers - of tarred canvas nailed over the cracks between the boards, the roof having the added advantage of 2 whole piece of tarred cloth, through which neither snow nor rain could penetrate. It was part of Fred’s duties to help the cook wait on the men, and when he made his appearance ‘with tin cups of smoking coffee and plates of soup he was stared at by the gathering crowd with no little _ curiosity. , “They wondered where he came from, but were _ too hungry to waste any time asking for informa- » tion they would no doubt learn later on. They "noticed, however, that the boy was spry, and didn’t seem to have a lazy bone in his body. They _ rather liked his cheerful face, and were of the _ opinion that he was an acquisition to the camp, no matter what combination of circumstances at tele 4 < brought him there. a CHAPTER IJ.—Breakers Ahead. * The ordinary hands finished their meal and left the room to hang around outside in groups to ‘talk in the gathering twilight. Then Silas McBee 3 and took his place at the head of the which was reserved for him, and Fred wait- - edon him. He did not appear to take any notice _ of the new boy, but nevertheless nothing the lad “ey escaped him. e engineer ¢ame in and sat close to the superintendent, with whom he entered into conversation. Later on the fireman slouched in and took-his place at the foot of the table. “Hello, where did yer spring from?” he asked _ Fred, when the boy brought his plate of soup. s~ Tulley had a wicked eve, a sullen look, and his “appearance was generally unsatisfactory. The i lumber king aecided that he was not a son to be trusted. . “T came from the river,” answered the boy. “Wiat-yer doin’ up here on the river?” t “Nothing. I came here because I couldn’t help Vhy couldn’t yer?” persisted Tulle Because a raft rainst it.” Ins 3 - A YOUNG LUMBER KING y: : y goes with the tide’ and | ~~ 3 “T don’t like him,” mutt Fred with a baleful look. e’s eddicated,; and I hate eddicated chaps. They ain’t no good.” — Tulley evidently had his own particular stand- «urd by which he judged those persons with waom he was brought into contact. Any one who moved cm a higher plane than himself incurred his en- mity sooner or later. He hated men who were -decent and gvod because his nature had nothing in common with such peole. There were some pretty tough fellows in the camp, though none quite as bac as himself, and he found mates ameng them. He was more or less drunk abeut half the time, but where he got the liquor was a mystery to Si!as McBee and the engineer. There was 2 supply ef sririts ia camp, but the superin- -tendent kept the key to the storeroom and gave the stuff cut when he saw fit to do so. He hadn’t noticed that the supply had diminished on the qniet, sc he was puzzled to account for the way in which the fireman gut his booze. He had threatened several times to send Tulley down the river with a consignment of logs, but did not make good for some reason. Tulley did not seem greatly afraid of being fired, though he managed to keep sober for a while after every run-in he had with the super- intendent. He made no further remarks to Fred when the boy brought him the rest of his supper, much to the lad’s relief. ; : “Who. is that chap at the end of the table?” Fred asked the cook. “That’s Tulley, the fireman. He’s a bad egg.” “He looks it. He isn’t a man I’d care to meet alone in the woads on.g-dark night, especially if he owed me a Bs “You want to™ ~for him. He’s d T- ous. Don’t offend you can help it, for he’s likely to get back at you in some underhand way,” said Scott. “I heard he killed aman in a saloon row before he came here. It’s a wonder McBée stands for him, for he drinks like a fish, and the mystery is where he gets the stuff.” “Oh, I’m not afraid of him,” replied Fred, in- d Tulley, following dependently. “At the same time, I’m not looking . for trouble, so I’ll try to rub his fur the right way.” 2 “That’s right, sonny. Go slow with Dave Tul- ley. He’s a bad-man. © And,” here his voice dropped to a whisper while his eyes roved to the door communicating with. the dining-room, “look out for Silas McBee. He isn’t to be trusted any more than Tulley, though he is the big smoke in this camp.” “Pll keep your warning in mind, Sol, and mind my P’s and Q’s with the boss,” said Fred. “?’m not anxious to have a run-in with him, for he could throw. out into the wilderness and then I’d be up against it for fair.” — - At that moment a thumping was heard in the next room. - “That’s McBee. See what he wants,” said the cook hastily. % Fred rushed into the eating room. : “Another cup of coffee,” said the superintend- ent. sharply. “ \

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2 4 : = = in his place some fine day, and then he’ll have to hunt a job somewhere else.” Tulley heard the remark, which was evidently a intended for his ears; but instead of scowling at __» the superintendent he glowered at the young lum- _ ber king in a way that boded no good for the lad. caught his malevolent stare and felt de- cidedly uncomfortable under it. He felt that ' trouble would certainly ensue if McBee ever put c him in Tulley’s place, and he sincerely hoped the : occasion would never arise. The from the room as soon as he could and told the cook about the incident. Sol Scott shook his head in a solemn way. “There is no tellin’ what McBee might do,” he said. “His remark was doubtless meant for Tul- ley’s ears, as a menace to him, and I fear the fire- man will see in you an enemy whom he will wish to get rid of for his own interests Beware lest he strike at you in the dark, for it isn’t his nature to do anything fair and above board.” The three men soon afterward left the eating room and then the cook and Fred had their own supper. eens sae 3 his former feed, Fred ate heartily, particularly relishing the coffee, _ which Scott knew how to prepare to perfection. The milk used was canned condensed cream of a = rime quality, and improved its flavor if any- ing. After the meal Fred helped wash the stack of dishes that had accumulated. Then while the cook sat at the door, smoking his eve- “ning pipe, which was a great solace to him, he tidied up the kitchen and wound up with setting the long table in the eating room for the men’s _ breakfast. His duties over for the day, he joined _ Seott at the door and watched the full moon rise _ above the distant mountains. “So you’re an orphan, sonny?” said the cook. “Yes. My mother di pnly a few months ago,” replied the young r king, sadly, for this was a fact. nape “You've got relatives, I s’pose, you thought of “T’ve got relatives in Portland, but I have no idea of going near them’at present. I intend to make my way up in the world first.” é “Tl! do what I can for you, sonny.” R= “Thank you, Sol. I know you mean that. We’ve ia i known one another a few hours, but it seems as if we’d been friends for years.” 5 “Right you are, sonny. I ain’t taken such a shine to any one for years as I have to you, and p’haps you won’t regret havin’ known me.” _.. “Regret having known you, Sol? I should hope not! You're not like Dave Tulley or—Mr. McBee. - You’re the real goods and a yard square.” | The cook, who was refilling his pipe, looked “Fetch me a live coal from the stove.” he said. --—s- “Wouldn’t a match suit you better?” “The old man shook his head. : “like to light my pipe in the old-fashioned way,” he said. “I don’t care to touch brimstone when I can avoid it.” — ot be os brought him a red coal and his pipe was presently in working order. “Now, sonny,” a went on, “since you’re stranded here without clothes other than what you have on your back, you must share mine till u can rf some. I’ve a good supply and you are your choice. boy escaped ~ Tulley. - ge} A YOUNG LUMBER KING “With me in the caboose behind the kitchen. There’s a spare bunk there with blankets and such. We’ll be company for each other, and you’ll be right on the spot.” “That will suit me first rate, Sol. I’d have to bunk with the men. I was afraid This is a fine ~« night, isn’t it?” he cook nodded. “T’ve seen many a fine night in my time, es- pecially at sea.” “You’ve been a sailor, have you?” “Not exactly a sailor. I’ve served as cook aboard of several craft, and consequently I’ve seen a good part of the world. I’ve had my bumps, and the worst of them all was when the brig General Jackson was wrecked and I was adrift for weeks with nothin’ to eat for days be- fore I was picked up, more dead than alive,” said the cook, with a reminiscent look in his old eyes. Fred asked him to tell him the :story of the wreck, which he did, and then both turned in for the night. : CHAPTER III.—Fiendish Revenge. > Several weeks passed without anv incident oc- curring to break in upon the usual monotonous routine of the lumber ee? Fred made himself popular with the majority . of the men by his eagerness to oblige all hands and his smart way in handling his duties as as- sistant to the cook. McBee had little to say to him, which was a Soo siete while Tulley noticed him only with a scowl. : The fireman, whether he had been impressed by the superintendent’s remark at the supper _ table that night or not, attended to his duties in better shape than usual with him, though he maintained a surly deportment. Fred had idle moments and these he employed to familiarize himself with the work of. the camp. He saw how trees were cut down, denuded of the limbs and foliage, transported to the sawmill and ~~ cut into regular lengths. The shore was piled with tiers of them, and preparations were under way to send a large number of them down the Penobscot in charge of men specially trained in the hazardous job. ~ = One morning while the young lumber king was eeling potatoes for the midday meal Silas Mc- ee suddenly appeared at the kitchen door. He looked mad as a hornet. ; “Drop that work, Drew, and go over to the en- | gine-room. Report to Dobbs.” =: - After jerking the words out in a peremptory — tone, he turned on his heel and strode away. Both the cook and Fred knew what was in the wind. Tulley was drunk again and incapable of . attending to his work, aa e* “It’s come at last,” said Sol Scott, shaking his «+ a Five minutes later he stood before Dobbs. the engine-room and his duties were explain z= - .

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A YOUNG LUMBER KING ee 5 _. point by feeding the furnace with refuse wood ; aiid for the purpose, and attend to various odd jobs about the place. He started in cheer- _ fully, and the engineer, after watching him for a - while, nodded anprovingly. The morning passed quickly away to the young =~ lumber king, who was somewhat interested in the novelty of his new work, and he was sur- rised when the noon whistle blew and the hands ked off for dinner. “You'll have to stay here in charge of the en- ine-room till I come back,” said the engineer to im, as he prepared to leave for the eating house. “Let the steam drop as far as this,” he added, pointing to a figure on the gauge, “and keep it so. I’ve closed the draughts, so you ogntn’t to have much to do.” Then the engineer departed in the rear of the other mill hands, and Fred was left the sole oc- cupant of the building and its annex, where the engine and boiler stood. He amused _ himself = polishing the odd bits of brass work about the _ engine, and was thus engaged when a shadow e suddenly obstructed the flow of sunlight that . eame through the doorway Fred turned around ~and, somewhat to his dismay, beheld the burly form of Tulley holding onto the door jamb for ‘support, while the fireman’s eyés shot forth a gleam that wasn’t pleasant to look at. “So, yer’ve got my job, have yer?” hissed the __ fireman. . ; : > “Pye been put on it for the day, till you’re ready to go on again,” replied the boy, in a con- iliatory tone. ? Ye ve a liar!” roared Tulley; “ye’re here for s ” “J hope not,” replied Fred. “I don’t want your 3 ob.” Pe : “What did yer take it for, then?” snarled Tul- ley, Semastinicke, “Because I was ordered to.” “By Silas McBee, eh?” «A 2 “Yes.” = The fireman uttered a string of imprecations. He swayed to and fro in the doorway and mut- tered threats half aloud. . 5 : Then he turned on Fred again, staggering in- side as far as the. bench against. the outer wall = ‘on which lay a collection of wrenches and other ~- tools used by the engineer. ae "Yer say yer don’t want the job?” he said, _ thickly. 5 : ‘ “J don’t want it as long as you’re around. ~ “Then git out. I'll attend to the business.” - “J can’t go till Mr. Dobbs lets me off.” “Oh, yer can’t?” gritted Tulley. -“No. He left me in charge of the place and _ F’ve got to stay. He'll be back in twenty min- - “utes or so, and then you can fix matters up with n _ “] kin, ch?” replied the fireman, with an ugly “sneer. “I’m goin’ to fix matters with you, not him. You’re doin’ my work, so if yer don’t want a run-in with me, git out, and do it quick, d’ye understand?” : ; _ Fred realized that a crisis was at hand and he 7’ © nerved himself to meet it. At all risks he in- tended to stick to his post. He wasn’t. lookin, : ‘trouble, but’he knew what his duty was, an: ; ; = é! ended to perform it or go under. Therefore, made no move to go,- oo, Taley's blood- seemed to glare into his verv soul, = “Tll give yer one minute to git,” cries the ~ drunken fireman. “Tm not going, replied Fred, resolutely. With a howl like an enraged wild animal Tul- ley turned partly around, grabbed a wrench and flung it at the boy’s head. His aim was pretty true and the distance so short that Fred’s dodge was not effective. Fortunately, the wooden han- dle, not the iron part, struck the boy a glancing blow on the forehead. It was enough, however, - partially stun him, and he dropped to the oor. _Tulley looked at him, uncertain whether he had killed the lad or not. Probably a dim forebod- ing of trouble ahead took possession of the fire- man’s brain. He had killed a man some months before in a saloon fight in .ugusta, and he knew what it was to flee for his life. He also knew that he was_in bad standing with McBee and most of the men. If he had murdered the boy in his fury he might be lynched off-hand, for justice in the backwoods is often as swift and certain as it formerly was in the wild and woolly West, and still is for the matter.in some places. i In his boozy condition he could not tell whether Fred was dead or not. He looked down and out, at any rate. Tulley’s first impulse, therefore, was to fly the camp and take his chances in the wilderness. As he turned to the door, however, a sudden thought flashed through his brain. The — engine-room and mill were silent and untenanted, and would be for nearly half an hour longer. Why not set the place afire and destroy the evi- dence of his crime? The scheme appealed to him, for it promised him additional revenge against McBee and the bunch who were down on him. He threw open the furnace door and grabbed . * the long ash hoe, intending to pull out the burn- ing wood and scatter it about the floor. Sud- denly his purpose changed. A diabolical gri came over his ugly features. A new idea had struck him. Instead of hauling out the fire he. dropped the long iron implement and began to pile in the wood till not another stick would go in. Then he opened all the draughts and the fire began to roar. Tulley grinned more fiendishly than ever. He reeled to the doorway and looked toward the eating house. No one was in sight, and Sol Scott was hustling around the table waiting on the men, who wondered where the new boy was. Then he looked at the steam gauge and saw the shivering finger climb up the index. He grabbed a bit of twine and tied down the safety valve. That would prevent the automatic apparatus from working and letting off excess steam. Finally he got a piece of rope, tied the boy’s arms behind his back, and raised him up and secured him to a brass rail that ran around the side of the boiler. He knew the boiler was an old one and would not stand with safety more than a certain number of pounds of steam to the cubic inch. With the safety valve cut of business the-dan- er point would soon be reached under the hot fire he had made, and then when the pressure ~~ exceeded the pows: of resistance the boiler was bound to explode and blow the boy into bye | if he wasn’t already dead. The building woul a then probably be finished by fire, and all evidente —_— that he had nd sheng te 30> Costreaho meee “ae premises would he wined ont. Tha hlame wauké

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‘ rest on the dead lad as an inexperienced factor in the case. Shoving in more wood and after taking a last look at the gauge to make sure that things were working toward the end he aimed at, Tulley tng ystaggered out of the annex engine-room and reeled away toward the nearby woods, leaving : Fred Drew and the property of the lumber com- : pany to their fate. - CHAPTER IV.—Saved In the Nick of Time. " Fred had not been entirely unconscious of what t free in a few minutes the pressure is bound = become so heavy that the boiler will explode and blow me and the building to thunder. What - a villain Tulley is!” ~The young lumber king, alive to the, urgency of the moment, and that his own fate hung in the balance, struggled desperately to free him- _ self from lis Jonds.. The growing heat of the boiler behind him, from which he was only sepa- _ rated by about a foot, was already becoming too ~ uncomfortable for him, and yet his thoughts were - not on that, but on the more serious state of the — As the moments flew by and he failed to re- lease himself he began to shout at the top of his _ voice for help. There was no one about to hear him. Providence, however, sent Sol Scott to the - door of the kitchen at that moment. The cook occurred to him that Tulley had gone there attacked him. Seizing a big carving knife m the kitchen table, he started for the saw- on the jump, fully determined to make s hot for the fireman. Ba. ‘y moment Fred’s cries plainer to e the door of the A YOUNG LUMBER KING | and his surroundings were face to face with a. room. The tone of the boy’s voice showed him that the lad stood in urgent need of ose “T believe the villain is tryin’ to murder the ; ie he breathed, tensely. “I'll fix him. Tl = a hole in him big enough to let in the day- © ight good and strong.” oh. Sol Seott was not a gory-minded person by nature. In fact, he was rather timid than other- wise. But he had taken a strong liking for Fred Drew, and the very idea that the boy might be at the mercy of such a scoundrel as Dave Talley enraged him, and made him reckless of conse- quences. As he neared the door he uttered a wild Co- manche-like whoop, thinking to strike fear into the mind of the fireman, whom he believed was assaulting Fred. : The young lumber king heard the shout and yelled louder. A moment later Sol Scott dashed into the engine-room with the carving-knife poised - ready for business. - “Where is he? Where is the scoundrel?” he roared, seeing Fred standing by himself and no sign- of the fireman on the remises. “For Heaven’s sake! ut me loose—quick!” - ’ cried Fred, appealingly. "Se “What’s the matter?” asked the cook, not com- prehending the situation. “Cut me loose! I’m tied to this brass rail. Don’t waste a second.” Fred’s desperate earnestness had its effect on —— and he rushed over to the boy and cut his nds. Seizing the knife out of the cook’s hands, and pushing him back, Fred made a leap for the safety valve and cut the string which held it down. The moment it was free the steam began to escape in a cloud. yg me Fred then pulled the whistle rope and a shrill screech echoed and re-echoed -across the land- scape, startling .both the engineer and the men who were finishing their meal. ; “Hold that rope, Sol,” cried Fred, feverishly, “and keep the whistle going.” ~ “Why, what’s wrong?” asked the cook. , “No matter; I’ll tell you later,” ejaculated | 2 1 the boy, rushing around and closing the draughts. he wild screaming of the whistle had the whole camp aroused by this time. The engineer, suspecting something be was running to- ward the engine-room, and half the hands, see- ing his excitement, followed his examule. oy Silas McBee came to the door of a cabin near _ the water, where he had been doing some work — in connection with the shipment of the consign-— ment of logs down the river, and looked toward the Rprespe goa: pra t go the rope,” said Fred to Scott, and whistle se! tr suddenly. The gau an — dropping ‘slowly, and the boy knew that a catas- _ trophe had been averted through the instrumen-_ tality of the cook. Ps “Sol,” he said, grasping the man by the hand, ‘ “you’ve saved my life and the sawmill as well.” _ “How—how?” asked the astonished cook. __ Before Fred tould answer the engineer bounced now, sir; but a few minutes things loo ed mighty for both me engine-room,” replied Fred.

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” lain yourself,” said Dobbs, sharply, as a of hands gathered around the.door and looked curiously inside. . Fred did explain, and in a very graphic man- ner. He showed the pieces of string still adher- ‘ing to the arm of the escape valve; he pointed ~ to the gauge, which showed a high pressure yet, -_ and lastly ne opened the furnace door and let the engineer sce the roaring fire in there. Dobbs comprehended the matter and was boiling mad. - “Tf Silas McBee doesn’t run that scoundrel Tulley out of the camp Ill resign my job,” he said. “Why, he might have put the mill out of business for the season, without speaking about taking your life.” 3 ~ “He ought ta be lynched,” cried one of the men at the door, and a murmur of approval ran _ through the crowd, for most of those present were down on the fireman. “Well,” said Fred, “you have Sol Scott to _ thank for saving the place and I have got to thank him for saving my life. If he hadn’t come oe t when he did you’d have had excitement to 4 urn here by this time, while I would have been .-out of all my earthly troubles.” az “Three cheers for Sol!” cried one of the men. ? “something of a favorite in camp. “What started you up here, Sol?” asked the engineer. “The cook explained that he had gone to the oor for a breath of cool air, and he then heard faint cries coming from the engine-room appar- ently. nife and started to save the boy, not understand- g what really was the matter,” concluded Scott. _ Dobbs told the cook that he deserved a gold medal for what he had done, and he guessed the boss would make it all right with him. <_ ou, Drew, you had a mighty narrow Sie’ then told Fred to go and get his dinner, nd take his time. So the say ant his good friend, the cook, start- d for the kitchen and eating house together, Metter friends than ever. . é CHAPTER V.—The Nocturnal Visitor. “When Silas McBee came to get his dinner he md Fred at the table. : “What was the trouble at the sawmill?” he d told him the whole story. ee swore lustily as he realized what might pened through the agency of the drunk- the men catch him and string him up,” tone that showed he meant what he They were given with a will, for Sol was — A YOUNG LUMBER KING es Then he called Scott into the room. = “You shall be rewarded for saving the engine and the mill,” he said. “As for you, Drew, Tuliey’s job and his wages are yours from this . time on.” iS Fred was sorry to sever his connection with - the culinary department for Sol’s sake, but oth- erwise he was glad to make the change. “Never mind,” he thought, “I’ll help him out evenings. He saved my life and I can’t do too much for him to show my gratitude.” ¥red’s back was blistered and raw and was now paining him a great deal. When he told Sol avout it, the cook made him’ take off his shirt, and then Scott rubbed him well with sweet oil, which helped him greatly, and he returned to his work feeling fairly good. A hunt had been made for Tulley in the neigh- borhood, but the long screech of the whistle had told. him that his scneme had failed, and, know- ing he might expect to be roughly handled by the men if caught, he hid himself in a certain place where he believed he would be safe, so the Searchers did not discover him. After the whis- tle blew that afternoon for work to stop the en-~ gineer ‘remained with Fred to show him what he was expecied to do hereafter himself. They went to supper together, and after the meal the $ young lumber king insisted on helping Sol wash the dishes and set the tabie for the morning. : “I’m much obliged to you, sonny,” said Scott, “but you ain’t obliged to put yourself out for me. _ When your work is through at the.engine-room you’re done for the day.” “T know that, Sol, but just the same I’m going ~~ to give you a lift right along, if you don’t ob- ject,” replied Fred. “I suppose I can keep on sleeping here, for i’d rather do it than bunk in 7 rage rest of the pee < “Of course you can, as long as I have anything to say about it,” replied the cook, heartily. That evening they sat by the door together, and Sol spun severaj more sea yarns that inter- ested Fred greatly. ‘the moon was coming up ¥ when they turned in, and by that time the camp © was as silent as a country churchyard. It might have been two in the morning when a dark shadow came out of the woods and moved stealth- ily toward the cook house and its connecting buildings. : zi . Silas McBee didn’t consider it necessary to em- loy_a night watchman in that out-of-the-way ocality, so there was no eye to observe the move- ments of the man as he crossed the moonlit ground, with the slouching gait which any of the hands would immediately have rooagieed as be- z longing to Dave Tulley, the ex-fireman. eee Tulley reached the cook house and stopped un-. der the shadow of the window. Hunger had driven him from his lair, just as it drives wild animals abroad to look for a meal. He knew _ that the provisions were kept in'a storehouse ~~ next to and connected with the kitchen, and his” purpose was to make a raid on the building. He also knew that Sol Scott and Fred Drew it~ in the little room between the kitchen and the storehouse. He would liked to have done several things to Fred, seeing that the boy had in sc way balked him of his revenge; but he be now, and the risk of getting Square wi was too great for him to se matter, SSS i? we ee, eae

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= ~The question of appeasing his hunger and se- = curing supplies for the future was what chiefly _—_ oceupied his thoughts. The storeroom had a window, and it was on this that Tulley began operations with a stout chisel he had brought for the purpose. _* _He did not exzect to find the window a difficult =: proposition to overcome, for~Sol Scott did not - look for any surreptitious visits from the men ; at night, because they were well fed, and there- fore had no call to seek extra provender; there- _ fore a simple catch was all he considered neces- : sary to hoid the window. Tulley made short work of the catch and open- ed the window. With the aid of a box he pulled himself into the storeroom, and then in the semi- gloom of the place he began to feel around and examine the articles on the shelves. He loaded : a bag with canned goods, boxes or crackers, and =e other things, and dropped it out of the window. ; Part of a haunch of venison attracted his at- tention, and his hunger made him attack it on, the premises, tearing off chunks. like a famished wolf might do. While he was thus engaged the young lumber king, whose bunk was against the -- wall of the storeroom, woke up.. It was-a most unusual circumstance for the boy to wake dur- ing the night. Once he got to sleep he usually remained unconscious of his surroundings until 5 morning. __ . A bad dream, occasioned probably by his day’s strenuous experience in the engine-room, was the cause of his waking up. As he turned over 74 to compose himself to sleep again his sharp ears _ heard what he regarded as suspicious sounds in the storeroom. At first he thought it was Sol - moving around in there, but the reflection of the moonlight through the window showed the cook _« sleeping tranquilly in his bunk on the opposite side of the room. E : Pe Fred listened attentively until he was satisfied some one who had no business to be there was ‘ moving in the storeroom. He sprang noiselessly eles out of bed, went to the door and opened it softly. ; The open window first met his gaze, and then the figure of a man standing between himself and the moonlight. Naturally he was astonished to - find an intruder there at that hour, but he was * not long in identifying the individual as Dave ey, his personal enemy. The ex-fireman was attacking the cold meat in a ravenous way that showed how hungry he was. Had it been any one else, some tramp of the wilderness, for instance, the boy would have sym- pathized with the purport of his clandestine visit to the storeroom. It was different in the case of Tulley. The rascal had tried to murder him that - day in a particularly diabolical way, consequently | the young lumber king entertained no kindly feelings toward him. The villain richly deserved to be punished for his attempted crime, and here was a chance to capture him and hand him over to as McBee. Throwing open the door suddenly. rushed into the storeroom and seized the rasca htly by one arm. , Lice urrender, Dave Tulley,” he cried. “I’ve t you.” ae ; ‘ulley was taken somewhat by surprise, but ‘not wholly thrown off his guard. Instead of } ing to what seemed to.be his fate, he m Fred and him by the neck. Buse betwee them boy. Their first move was to try to set. Ce ee ES ae 4 : We ; — ¥ _-A YOUNG LUMBER KING = for the mastery. They swayed to and fro for a ‘few minutes and then went down on the floor with a crash, continuing their fight in the gloom. The noise awoke Sol Scott, and he sat bolt upright in bed. The racket in the storeroom then came _ lainly to his ears. Glancing across at Fred’s « unk, he saw that the boy was not in bed, and he at once concluded that his young friend was in trouble again. He lost no time in getting out of bed and going to the door of the storeroom. Two — forms, one dark and the other clad in light, airy attire, were squirming about on the floor. Sol hastened to light the lamp with which the CAE room was provided, and with this in his hand he illuminated the scene of the struggle. Tulley, owing to his superior strength, had se- cured an advantageous position on top of Fred, and was in the act of bringing a plate down on the lad’s head, when Sol caught his wrist. The ag looked up and the cook at once recognized im. ‘. “Dave Tulley!” he exclaimed. With an imprecation Tulley sprang to his feet, q dashed the lamp from the cook’s hands and sprang ~ for the window. He went ap the opening ~—= headforemost, turning like an athlete on a hori- zontal bar, and landed on the ground outside in a heap. He quickly picked himself up, grabbed — the bagful of plunder and dashed for the woods. It was useless for Fred to think of following him _ in his. undress attire, while Scott was busy looking after the lamp, chimney of which had been broken _ into a hundred fragments. Fred watched the ras- — cal disappear into the woods and then closed the window. He found that the catch was broken and that it could not be fastened. As it opened in- ward, he piled a couple of boxes up against it, — and then he and Scott returned to the sleeping — room, where Fred told the cook how he had dis- — covered Tulley in, the storeroom, and attempted — unsuccessfully to capture him. When he finished his story they turned in and slept without further interruption till morning. CHAPTER VI.—In a Tight Fix. When Silas McBee learned next morning the particulars of Tulley’s nocturnal visit to the store- room he got hopping mad. He immediately de- — tailed a number of the men to scour the woods © after the rascal. They spent several hours at the job, but failed to find any signs of the ex- — fireman. And yet Tulley was not far away at — the time. His retreat was within half a mile of — the saw-mill, and he Te aware of the efforts — being made to capture him. Several days passed and nothing having been seen of Tulley, ‘the im-— pene prevailed that he had left the neighbor-— ood. Fred’s activity and attention to his duties made him solid with the engineer, and they got on very well together. The boy’s growing po ularity in the camp, however, made enemies for him of several men who had been cronies of Tulley. The ex-fireman had supplied these chap with whisky on the sly, though he never wot admit to them where he got the stuff, and ; ishment of Tulley cut off this surreptitious si ply. For that reason they sympathized with rascal, though they had no real friendship ; him, and accumulated a grouch against the new ’ ula er y to set the res

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wouldn’t work at all, they fell back on underhand _ methods. They determined to set McBee against him. If they could accomplish this they felt sure += that the superintendent would send the lad, “though what they expected to gain by getting Fred bounced from the camp was a problem. One morning McBee looked into the engine-room and called Fred out. “Come with me,” he said in his customary gruff e. He led the boy to his quarters in the front of the mill. ; “Clean.up things around here,” he said. The young lumber king got a broom and swept the sleeping room and office out to begin with. Then he began to dust the shelves and their con- _ tents and tidy the place up. When he got through it presented quite a new and improved appear- ance. He had just finished his work when the superintendent Tooxad in and grunted his ap- * proval. Then he looked up and went off, while Pred returned to the engine-room. Two of Tul- ~PYey’s cronies worked in the mill and they noticed what the boy had been doing in McBee’s quarters. _ - They also noticed that the window in the superin- _ tendent’s bed-room had been left open by Fred. Noon came around and on their way to dinner they held a consultation. They hurried through the meal and were the first to leave the eating- room. A few minutes afterward they were stand- ' ing under the window in question. was in the engine-room waiting Zor Dobbs to return and let him off, but he didn’t notice that ! any one was around the mill. One of the men boosted the other through the window and then ‘stood on watch outside, ready to warn his com- _ panion if any one approached. The man inside, + whose name was Reedy, stayed in McBee’s quar- _ ters about ten minutes, and then let himself out of the window, closing it after him. The pair walked away, and a quarter of an hour later Fred _~ was relieved by the engineer and he went to get ee own dinner. During the afternoon Reedy _ found-an excuse for going into the engine-room. Fred took particular note of “SPmorning. When Sol and the boy finished up they » ‘vame to the door, the cook getting out his pipe, which was his one great, solace. Suddenly all the men except Reedy walked forward and seemed _ to be greatly interested in something they saw _ down near the river. Their actions attracted the _ attention of Fred and Sol, and they went over and - asked the men what they were looking at. One of the men pointed at a certain opt and asked the at the place and’so did Sol, While they were ; ee Soe = ok and the boy to watch and they’d see some-. ng odd in a minute. thus en- A YOUNG LUMBER KING 9 of the men against Fred, but finding this plan - gaged Reedy sneaked into the kitchen and thence to the small sleeping apartment. beyond. He was gone only a few minutes and then joined the crowd and asked what they were looking at. “Some of us saw a strange kind of light down yonder on the other side of the river,” said a fellow named Wagner; “but it hasn’t shone again, though we’ve all been watchin’ for it.” “What was it like?” asked Réedy with a grin. That was the signal agreed upon between him and the rest that everything was all right. Wagner explained that it was a ghostly kind of light with a hal around it. Reedy laughed and said he guessed it was oat imagination. The men then walked away, while Fred and the cook returned to the kitchen door. When McBee went to his quarters about four o’clock next day he found under the door a folded piece of paper ad- dressed to him. When he read it his brow clouded. - He went to his desk and looked at it sharply. The drawer in which he kept quite a sum of money showed signs of having been tampered with. On trying it he found the lock had been broken with some kind of an implement. Pulling the drawer out he discovered that the fancy buck- skin wallet containing the money was gone. Noth- ing else appeared to a missing as far as he could see.. McBee was a man of strong prejudices and easily excited to anger. He acted entirely on impulse, never stopping to thing whether he was right or not. When Sis feelings were excited against any one he was apt to carry things to an unreasonable length, and to allow the object of his resentment little chance to square himself.. On this occasion his face, which was a sure index to his state of mind, showed that he was aroused to a high aie of wrath. The paper he held in his hand he crunched between his fingers and threw away. Slamming the door of his office he marched straight to the cook-house. Walking through the kitchen, without a word to Sol, who was peeling a pan of potatoes, he entered the bed-room and began to pull Fred’s bunk over. Snugly hidden under the mattress he found his fancy buckskin wallet. _He uttered a terrible im- precation that reached Sol’s ears and made that worthy wonder what was up. Opening the wallet, , he found that the money, amounting to about $200, was missing. He swore like a trooper. Put- ting the wallet in his pocket he stalked out into the air and returned to his quarters, where he picked up a small coil of rope. Going to the en- ine-house dooy he called to the young lumber ing. _ “Put on your jacket and come with me,” he said in an ugly tone. _ The boy obeyed, and without a word the super- intendent led him away from the camp and up on the bluff which bordered upon the river to a, spot where a gang of men were felling trees. On the edge of the bluff stood a tall dead tree which had been left there as a kind of landmark. “Now. then,” gritted McBee, pushing Fred against the tree, “turn out your pockets.” “What!” gasped the boy, amazed at the order. “Turn out your pockets, d’ye hear?” he re- peated savagely. “Turn out my pockets?” fluttered’ Fred. Why—” “Wagner,” roared the superintendent to one of the gang. “come here.” e man obeyed, while the ae stopped work, wondering what was in the win

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10 3 .“Turn out that boy’s pockets—every one of them,” cried McBee. ; _ Smothering a grin, for Wagner knew what was coming, being one of the conspirators, he pro- ceeded to carry out the boss’s orders. Nothing came of the search until Wagner came to the inside pocket of Fred’s coat, and from this he drew forth a $10 bill which had been torn in quar- ters and then pasted together with two narrow 4 strips of red paper, making the outline of a red _ eross. McBee recognized the bill as one that had _ been in the buckskin wallet. He glared furiously ~ at Fred. ; . “Ts that all he’s got about him?” he demanded of Wagner. - : “That’s all,” answered the rascal. re -“What did you do with the rest of the mon- ~ . ey?” he said to the boy in tones of suppressed fury. . “The rest of the money!” ejaculated Fred, who could not understand how the marked bill had come upon his person. . “The rest of the $200 you stole from my desk,” replied the superintendent. ' “T never stole a cent from your desk. I’m not a thief,” answered Fred with a ring of indigna- > tion in his tones. . eZ “You didn’t, eh? P’haps you'll tell me how this a: act came to be in your bunk? I found it mS ere.” - McBee held the wallet up threateningly. fx, _ “TJ don’t know anything about it. I didn’t put it _. there. I never saw it before,”. protested Fred. -. The superintendent threw the rope on the ground at Wagner’s feet. - “Tie that a couple of times around that young 25 Tiar's chest and pin his arms to his body,” he ~ Sar ; Wagner obeyed with alacrity. ' “Now take the end with you and climb half- way up this tree.” ° The man did as he was toid. __ _ “Haul the boy up and secure him there.” “3 _ Wagner was a burly fellow, and had no trouble ‘in carrying out the order. _ + “Now, you young villain, tell me where the rest of that money is or there’ll be somethin’ doin’ oF . _- The man got it while the rest of the gang ‘looked on with wondering eyes. , “Notch that tree out.on the river side,” directed Bee. © Wagner proceeded to cut away, and not an- other word was said until he had made a deep _ V-shaped cut as far as the center of the tree, _ when McBee called a halt. “Now, you young thief, confess what you have done with that $200 or over into the river you .” said the boss of the Si can’t tell you anything about the money, for eee saw it,” answered the boy in a tone that ad the ring of truthtoit. ° ; McBee, however, didn’t believe him even a little Be. Finding his wallet in Fred’s bunk was evi- _ dence enough to him that the boy was guilty, and - the lad could say would convince him snapped M sine tn a see.” gate .and boy around a bend-and vanished from the ~ er to com-— soe FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY plete the job. The man at once attacked the op- posite side of the tree, each lusty stroke widenin the fresh notch. Bound helpless to the tree, Fre could feel the jar made by each stroke of the axe. “You’ll soon be sailin’ down toward the rapids,” laughed Silas McBee sardonically, as the tree be- || gan to tilt over toward the river. Fred, alive to the seriousness of his situation, begged the superintendent to explain what it all meant. McBee only laughed at him. At length when it looked as if another stroke of the axe would complete the work, McBee stopped Wagner. “This is your last chance to confess,” he said. “Own up about the money and I’ll let you go down. Refuse and——” Fred made an involuntary movement of terror, for he felt the tree sagging under’ him inch by inch. The move was unfortunate. It proved to be the last straw with the tree. .Whether McBee really intended to launch him over, or simply meant tc frighten him into a confession, is un- certain—probably the latter, for the boy’s pos- sible death would prevent him from recovering the money, anyway. However, he had carried his- ~ purpose a little too far, for the tree suddenly went ~= over with a crash, snapped off at the weak point, and disappeared down the bluff like a shot, car- rying the young lumber king with it. CHAPTER VII.—Adrift on the River. The other members of the chopping gang ut- tered a shout of dismay. Until that moment they had not believed that McBee meant to carry mat- —— ters so far. They would have entered a protest anyway, but were afraid of the boss of the camp. Now they rushed to the edge of the bluff in a- : body and looked down. McBee and Wagner were already standing close to the brink, gazing after ~ the tree, which had struck the water wth a. splash, and after going under had come up and was sailing out into the center of the stream. ~ Fortunately the tree had fallen in a way that | broke the effect of the shock on Fred, and though he was momentarily dazed, his bonds had become _ loosened. The current of the river carried tree — ATO e penny ed Wee ey Ow ame sight of the watchers on the bluff. McBee’s — anger cooled some as he n to realize that he — might be held responsible for the lad’s death, so. he issued orders to his men to get down the bluff and save the victim of his reckless rage. ae The men, Wagner excepted, had to run some — little distance. back before they could find a place where they could descend the bluff with safety.” Reaching the shore, they followed the river at — their best speed till they came to the turn, when — they were blocked by a big stone that lay right — in their path. lay By. the time they had surmounted this it’ was. rs growing dark, but they kept on, with their eyes ~ — on the lookout for the runaway tree. After pro- ceeding for a good half mile they failed to sight — it. At this point the river widened out, and the trend of the tide carried objects well toward the — other shore. The duskiness of the air cut off their — range of-vision, and after going another quarter — = mile they had to give the quest up as a bad job. _ : “The boy’s gone, I’m afraid,” said one of the: “It’s all McBee’s fault, and I wouldn’t care to aig _s i, ae ek

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4m his shoes. I don’t believe Fred Drew stole his - ™oney. It is just like the old boy to go off half- ___ eocked when he gets his dander up.” The bunch was to a man friendly toward the a young fireman, and McBee’s ears ought to have _~~s. tingled from what they ‘said about him on their “way back. In the meanwhile, how fared it with the young lumber king? The moment he recovered his self-possession he struggled to free himself from the rope that held him. This was not such a difficult matter, for a thick, spreading limb above his head kept the tree nicely balanced, and prevented it from rolling in either direction. The rope was loose, as the shock of the descent from the bluff had thrown him toward the notch around which the rope had been thrown. All he had to do was to draw out his arms and lift the _. loop over his head, then he was free of restraint. 4 - He sat up with his legs astride his wooden steed and looked around. He found himself all of sixty _ feet from the shore» whence he had come and Gt steadily drifting toward the Sppottte bank. The water was like ice and chilled him through, while .. the temperature of the air was also cold. Finding that the log was as steady as a raft, he ‘stood up on it, walked as far forward as the distended limb which acted the same way that a a ay began to flap his arms across his chest to keep - his blood in circulation. Darkness gradually came _ over the face of the Jandscape and the air grew colder still.. His situation was one not to be en- - vied. He-was going straight down the river ; through a perfect wilderness, without anything be in sight to satisfy an appetite that was already A; ‘making itself felt. He had been two hours on . the tree, and was beginning to feel-as if he didn’t -__ ¢are whether school kept or not, when he spied through the gloom ahead a twinkling light that grew steadily larger and brighter. In the course “of another half hour he made it out-to be a fire “« _ to the river. Fred welcomed the sight joy- < Where there was a fire there must be human i and the presence of human life suggested _ shelter and something to eat. But how was he to reach the fire unless he lunged into the icy stream and ‘swam ashore? e would. do that sooner than be carried past what promised to be a haven of refuge for him. _ Fred made out two figures seated before the fire. - One of them seemed to be a boy from his size. small pleasure sloop anchored close in to the shore. __ The current was carrying the tree close in to- ward it, and the young lumber king judged that he was nearing a point of land that jutted into the river. _ The night was comparotively still, and the in- ‘voluntary voyager thought he would try and at- .. tract the attention of the strangers. So making a funnel of his two hands, he shouted, “Hello! +» His voice reached the persons seated on the ‘stump. They started up and looked in the dark- ness _riverward. : - “Hello!” cried Fred again. ‘The smaller person ran down to the edge of the am and shouted, “Hi, hi! Where are you?” boyish voice. : na floating ‘replied Fred. ee. Have you a row A YOUNG LUMBER KING floating boom does for a small boat in a gale, and, ‘The blaze now revealed to him the presence of a | - Aldwinkle believed tis The boy vanished out of range of the fire and ~ presently Fred heard the sound of oars. “This way,” he cried, shouting to guide the rower. The boat and its occupant became dimly visible. They were coming direct for the tree. In a few minutes the rower took in one oar and the boat ranged alongside of the forest derelict. “Step in,” invited the boy. Fred stooped, grabbed the side of the boat and leaped in. “How came you to be on that tree?” asked the boy. “Are you one of’the loggers?” “No, I’m not exactly a logger, though I came from a logging camp some miles above here. As to why I happened to be on that tree, I’ll explain by and by after I warm myself,.for I am chilled to the bone, and hungry enough to eat any old thing in the shape of food.” : “What’s: your name?” asked the other, rowin: ~shoreward. = “Fred Drew. What’s yours?” “Billy Watkins.” “Who’s the man ashore?” “Professor Aldwinkle.” “Any other besides you two?” “Nope.” “What brings you and the professor into these wilds?” * “He’s a naturalist and is looking for specimens. . I’m a boatman, cook and general assistant.” The boat grounded, and Billy Watkins; followed by Fred, jumped to the shore. The former se- cured the boat and then led the way to the fire. “How do you do, sir?” said Fred, rushing close ~- to the fire, and addressing the professor. “I’m , almost frozen, I’ve been in the river and feel like a lump of ice.” ' “Don’t stand on ceremony, then, youn T’ll talk to you after you get the chill off. a horn of cognac would the cold out. Billy!” Get’ the bottle of b “Get the bottle of brandy from my 1 fetch a glass with you.” ~ Shamed ~ Billy ran to the sloop, which was anchored to the land, jumped aboard of her and vanished into the little cabin. He was back in a jiffy with the bottle and a glass. While he was away the young — lumber king told the -professor that he hadn’t - eaten anything since noon. / “Billy,” said Professor. Aldwinkle, taking the bottle and glass out of his hand, “make a pot of coffee, and lay out some bread and butter and cold. venison.” “Yes, sir,” and the youth was off aboard the sloop once more. ’ He brought an oil stove forth, set it on top of the trunk roof of the cabin, and soon had a small brass kettle full of water heating over one of the burners. While he was thus enga Fred intro- duced himself to the professor, and as he thawed ~— out under the combined influence of the fire and . the brandy he told his story, roughly sketching his — brief connection with the logging camp, but dwell- ing upon his sudden and atts ejectment the % ftom via the chopped tree and the river. net, ae honest face and earnest tones carried with them e a conviction of pis. tae Professor “You were treated very shabbily, my lad,” said _ the professor. “It was very fmtamnite ace pes man. , think do you good and drive se.

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I and my assistant happened to be there, ready to help you out. The nearest town is on the other side of the river beyond Lake Parmedecook, ~ about twenty miles as the crow flies, but all of ¥ fifty or more if you tried to walk there. Without wilderness.” By this time Billy yelled out that the coffee and other fixings were ready on the table, so the pro- fessor told Fred to go aboard and eat all he wanted. The young lumber king didn’t require a second invitation. He was soon ‘seated at the small table in the cabin of the sloop. Billy _- poured out the coffee. : 3 ~ “That will warm your innards,” said Billy. - "Gee! You looked iike a wreck when you first _ came to the fire.” = “And I felt like a wreck, too. The brandy and be the fire fixed me up pretty good and this layout -~ eompletes the cure. That-coffee tastes good, I ean tell you. I guess you’re a 5 “There are worse, but I haven’t met ’em,” grin- = — 25 i peed oe, Ree cae ned the youth. ; - The professor came aboard about the time Fred had satisfied his appetite. — “Billy,” he said, “you'll have to let cur visitor mock and make yourself comfortable with a pair ~~ of blankets.” -“Yes, sir,” replied the youth cheerfully. “J don’t want Billy to put himself out, on my - aecount,” said Fred. “If you have a hammock _ it will he-good enough for me.” -“Ho!” ejaculated Billy. “You hain’t puttin’ “me out any I kin sleep anywhere. I’m used to roughin’ it. I’ve slept in packin’ cases, wag- ef sone and any old place before I got a job on the loop. big — . Professor Aldwinkle told Fred to strip to the — ee get under the blankets right away, «nd he di ; _ The fire ashore had by this time died away to ‘a mass of glowing embers. The professor turned i himself, leaving his assistant to ‘hang up e hemmock to the four horks in the eabin ceil- ig. Fred felt pretty comfortable now, but the strangeness of his surroundings kept him awake until after his companions were asleep. While was wondering how Sol Scott had taken his ex d departure from the camp, he drifted into slumberland. and until the morning sun had _ brought light.and warmth into the landscape once more no sound was heard in the little cabin put the deep breathing of the three sleepers. _ CHAPTER VIII.—The Man on the Shore. When Fred opened his eyes in the morning 's hammock had disappeared and the little was flooded with sunshine which came through the sliding door that communicated with e cockpit, The narrow little table was set for ree persons, and everything about the place ed as neat s a new Bin. ae professor was ll asleep in the opposite berth. — = ; on peeled or Ty bed, but couldn’t find his ‘Even his undershirt was missing. Wrap- blanket i him he stepped to the door 1 was seated the fapdin A YOUNG LUMBER KING food you must have perished miserably in the ‘ood cook, Billy.” : have your bunk to-night. You can sling your ham-~ on oil ‘stove, cook- _ were’ Billy, where are my clothes?” asked red. “Spread out in the sun on the roof of the cabin. I’ll get ’em for you,” answered the lad. He jumped aboard the boat and handed Fred his things one by one. The professor was now awake. “Good-morning, my young friend,” he said to Fred, as-he rose and proceeded to don his gar- ments. “TI trust you slept well last night.” “Good-morning. Professor Aldwinkle,” replied Fred. Yes, sir, I slept like a top.” : Billy Watkins, seeing that his employer was up began bringing in the breakfast, which consisted of fried bacon and eggs, raw fried potatoes and coffee. There was also buttered toast made out of a stale loaf, and crackers. The trio sat down - to the meal and ate it with a relish, the professor declaring that since he had been out in the wilds everything tasted good to him, and he had ~ never felt better in his life. “T suppose you have no desire to return to the logging camp,” said the professor, looking at . red. “No, sir; I’m through with that place. I’ve had all the experience I want with Superintendent - McBee. The only person there I regret parting from is the cook, Sol Seott. He was an eccentric old chap, but he was true blue. He saved my life on one occasion, and I shall always feel grate- ful to him.” 3 : Fred then told Professor Aldwinkle and Billy the story of his run-in with Dave Tulley in the engine-room, which probably would have ended in a tragedy but for the fortunate intervention of Scott. ‘ The professor said he was about to return down the river to Bangor, where he had hired Billy and the sloop, and he would take Fred along if he wanted to go. This suited our hero exactly. “T gladly accept your invitation, Professor Ald- winkle, and if I can make myself useful in any way enroute I hope you will call upon me,” he replied. “Good enough,” cried Billy. with the anchor, will you?” g “Sure, I will,” replied Fred, springing on the - roof of the cabin and going forward to the bows. Leaving Fred to finish turning the drum that — hoisted the small anchor, Billy ran up the jiband then the main-sail. The sloop floated off into the middle of the stream. As soon as the anchor was aboard and secured, the Bangor youth took his place at the tiller and headed the craft down the river. The wind was light, so the boat didn’t — make very rapid progress. The young lumber © king enjoyed the novelty of the sail very much indeed. He also enjoyed the professor’s conver- _ sation, which related chiefly to the experience of his trip up the river, and his rather unsuccessful ~ a search for speciments. FE tt “What do you think of doing after you reach — Bangor?” he asked Fred. ‘aoe “Go to work in a lumber yard as soon as T can ae find a job, sir.” : ag “TI have a friend inthe lumber business there. I will introduce you to him. I have no doubt he -may be able to put you to work in his yard.” ae A tat cient this Wat saul hcdtiad © At that moment the boat was hailed from the shore. A rough-looki ra wie stening mae “Give me a lift ar

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= the water, making signs for them to come over ‘that way. : : Ee “Head the boat over, Billy,” said Professor Ald- -_-winkle. “We'll see what he wants.” S358: “As the sloop drew near the bank Fred noticed a familiar look ye the — in tai minutes : recognized the fellow as Dave Tulley. : & ne hore the rascal who tied me to the boiler jn the engine-room and left me face to face with certain death. For that he was obliged to fly the - eamp. He’s a dangerous scoundrel, and I advise you to have nothing to do with him,” he said to the professor.. “J don’t think I’d care to have such a person ‘aboard this boat,” replied the naturalist, “but at the same time if he’s lost in these wilds, and in ay aban him.” 5 That's true,” admitted Fred reluctantly; “but _ I warn you he is not to be trusted. If you should take him as a passenger you want to get rid of - him as soon as a and while he’s aboard he M atched.’ = on hat ae oe want, my man?” asked Professor king distance of the shore. : ae ee lost and famished for want of somethin’ to eat,” replied Tulley in a whining tone. “I want yer to take me down the river a bit. If yer leave ~ me here Ill never git out alive.” 3 i th hidden much as possible, so that e him. “Was there a boy at your camp named Fred rew?” asked the professor. The rascal gave a start and looked uneasy. “Naw,” he replied after a pause; “never hear + » ““Tsn’t your name Dave Tulley?” Fa The fellow pitiones a: gasp ee surprise and ~ sho igns of consternation. Sear thet your name?” repeated the professor. _ “What if it is?_ How come yer to know me? =~ er afore.” - eee coke. pessere who\ knows you.” _ “Bh!” ejaculated Tulley. . “Yes, T know you Dave Tulley,” said Fred, anding up so the rascal was able to get a square ew of him, “and you know me, too.” - Tulley started back as if stung by some venom- reptile and stared at the boy as if he could pelieve the evidence of his eyes. ER IX.—Tulley’s Treachery Meets With a Fitting Reward. 4 5 pe! ee = =e _, ees A YOUNG LUMBER KING danger of starvation, it would be a crime to Aldwinkle, as soon as the boat was within easy. - cooking on top of the trunk roof of the cabin. - spread, while Billy carried Tulley his share of — a ; * scree Pued on the sloop: He didnt know 13 what to say, for he was alive to the fact that the boy he had tried to kill in such a fiendish way could hardly be expected to entertain any kind of feelings toward him. Fred sat down while Tulley glared across the short stretch of water at him. ‘ ae “Tf you promise to behave yourself while you’re aboa Pll carry you down the river to Norcross 7 Village, on the railroad,” said Professor Ald- winkle. : “Tl do the right thing,” replied the ex-fire- man in a surely tone. “Take the skiff, Billy, and bring him off,” said the pes The boy obeyed orders and Tulley stepped into the cockpit. “We’ve no room for you here, so you can go forward and squat down against the mast,” said the naturalist. “Don’t I get something to eat first?” asked the rascal, showing his teeth like a famished hyena. “T’ll send something,” answered the professor. So Tulley went forward and Billy received in- structions to carry him some food. Fred steered while Watkins looked after their ~ unsavory passenger. An hour later the sloop entered Parmedecook Lake, a wide stretch of water which connected with Twin Lakes, whence the Penobscot River continued its course. > : In a straight line Norcross was about ten miles southeast, but it was all of half again as “ far by water. At the rate the sloop was going there was no telling when the village woah be reached. By noon the sloop was well across the — lake and close in to the southwestern shore, where : the lake narrowed. é Pe: “We'll put in yonder, anchor and have dinner,” said the professor. Fes “All right, sir,” said Billy. “What’s to be the bill-of-fare?” : : ; “What can you get up?” = “Fried eggs,.fried potatoes, potted tongue, canned corned beef, canned corn, and several other things includin’ coffee,” replied the youth. “We'll omit the eggs, and you may serve up the rest,” said Professor Aldwinkle. They anchored close in shore, and Billy did his 4 : When dinner was ready the naturalist and Fred adjourned to the cabin, where the table was- the provender. The Bangor youth left the oil stove outside while he entered the cabin to eat his dinner, as he intended to heat water to wash the dishes with. While the party was taking things easy in th cabin they heard the rascally passenger movin; about on the roof above their heads. They pai little attention to his movements, as they did not anticipate any mischief on his part. expected to get rid of aim within a es of as hours at any rate. A few minutes later Tulley ~ dropped down into the cockpit and stuck his head in at the door. eee “Say, kid, I want to see yer a minute,” he _ said, addressing Billy. a “What do you want?” asked Watkins, coming to the door. ; :

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ou door Tulley slammed it shut: and turned the key in it, thus making prisoners of Fred and Pro- fessor Aldwinkle. - “Now, you blamed little sea cook,” cried Tulley, putting the key in his pocket, “go forward and h’ist the anchor, or I’il chuck you overboard.” “What!” gasped Biliy in amazement. the stuffin’ out of yer,” said Tulley fiercely. “Oh, come now, none of your tricks. Open that ‘door and get back where you belong,” replied s the lad. ss yon’t. yer give me none of yer back sass or it’ll be wuss for yer,” said’the rascal giving Billy a clout in the jaw that sent him staggering against the door of the cabin. “I’m boss of this boat now, so you do as I tell you.” / _ Billy, seeing he had no show, and judging that discretion was the better part of valor, leaped 6n the roof of the cabin and retired to the bows of the sloop. By this time Professor Aldwinkle and Fred were satisfied that something was wrong outside. The latter sprang from his seat and - tried the door. “Tt’s fast,” he said, looking at the naturalist. ““Call out to Billy,” said the professor. “Hey, Billy,” shouted the young lumber king, unding on the dcor to emphasize his summons, ren! OPS the door.” “i é ‘Shut up in there,” replied the voice of Tulley. = ck nails aties vey Baas es, “ _. is up to some mischief. He has us caged in here p ourselves.” _ and we can’t hel Sdariniene Professor Aldwinkle, “My goodness!” _ staring at Fred. . “This is what you get for 2 _ fellow. He has no more conscience than a coffin nail. I never thought he’d have a chance to : y any tricks on us during the short run to taking pity on that reross. I don’t see what he hopes to gain by Whe us up this way; but he must have some = P e in view.” ., ' : _ *T regret that I took him abroad,” replied the _ professor. _ “We ought never to have given him the chance te r call a turn on us. = 8 a careless, and I suppose have got to pay for it. ts AL that moment they heard a scuffifig on the - roof of the cabin and then a heavy splash in - the water. _~ “Good Lord! He must have thrown Billy into lake,” cried Fred. Professor Aldwinkle started up in dismay. At that moment a key was thrust in the lock and the slide shot back, disclosing Billy with a ‘triumphant grin on his freckled countenance. j y!” exclaimed Fred. “We thought that ‘rascal had thrown you into the water.” ‘Nixy. It was me that threw him in,” re- plied the youth. ; ~ “You did!” cried Fred stepping out into the *kpit, followed by the naturalist. “How did you ever do it?” . a ~ *] tried a Japanese grip on him and he went overboard so easy it made me laugh,” said Billy. CF ed around for Tulley, and saw him penance from the water upon the bank, like a grampus. ti at W : ; A y boti rou, you young viper,” atkins. “And with you, Good gracious!” ejaculated Fred. “That rascal- A YOUNG LUMBER KING “Hist the anchor and do it quick, or I'll kick* i _Billy put his thumb to his nose and wiggled his fingers derisively. That expressive bit of pantomime ‘made Tulley furious. He picked up a handful of damp earth and flung it at the boy. Billy dodged and shouted. back: “Did you ever get left?” Tulley hunted around for a stone, and finding one let it fly at the Bangor lad. His aim was poor and Billy didn’t even have to dodge the PTE the Sather aid ois e anchor and let us get away from here,” said Professor Aldwinkle. a 5 Fred and Billy ran forward to turn the drum, and while they were winding in the anchor rope the ex-fireman pelted them with s:ones and clods of earth. As soon as the anchor broke ground ~ the sloop began to drift out of range of the infuriated rascal. Billy hastened to hoist the - jib and mainsail. ae The light wind caught the sails and the boat | was. headed off shore. Tulley could be seen shaking his fist at them every once in a while, and there wasn’t any doubt but he was swear- _ ing to beat the band. “Y'm mighty glad we’ve got rid of him,” said abe » Billy turned the tables on him very neatly. . “Bet your life. I made him turn a regular somerset,” chuakled Billy. “The best of it wus he dropped the key of the door out of his pocket as he went overboard.” “He promised tv behave himself on board, too,” — said Professor Aldwinkle. “I’m afraid such men have little regard for their word.” “T told you he was not to be trusted, sir,” said Fred. : _ “So you did, but I thought—well, well, he fell into the pit he dug for others. We would have taken him to Norcross. Now he’ll have to walk there, and that will take him many hours.” “He is fortunate in being on the right side of the lake, for you said, I think, that the village _ is on this side of the Penobscot. Had he been left to his own resources on the other bank he would have been worse off, I guess.” oe “Very much so,” replied the professor. : aa By this time Tulley had disappeared among the : | 4 - trees, while the boat was in the middle of the arm, of the lake which connected with Twin | Lakes. The breeze was better now than it was, during the morning, and the sloop made fair progress through the water. as In a short time the boat was skimming the — surface of the north twin and was rapidly ap- proaching Norcross, where the Bangor & Aroos- — took Railroad crossed the stream on a bridge. « CHAPTER X.—Fred Goes to Work In a L Yard. ‘ The sloop reached Norcross in due* time, and remained there only long enough for Professor — Aldwinkle to procure fresh supplies for the cul-— inary department, then the boat resumed its way down the Penobscot. cat We will not dwell upon the trip from thai place to the city of Bangor, since nothing moment hanpened to the Rape It is enough to say that they reached 5

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returned the sloop to its owner and hied himself to a hotel, after paying Billy the amount agreed upon for his services, and pressing a $10 bill on to enable him to keep his head above water till he got something to do. ; “Calt at the Bangor House tomorrow at nine,” he said to Fred after parting from the boys, “and ‘I will take you around to my friend Wheeler, the lumber merchant.” : E Fred promised to be on hand, and the pro- fessor walked away. i. “Now, Billy,” said Fred, “I don’t know the first thing about this town, so I hope you will - help me out.” E “Sure thing. partic’lar?” = “T want to find a cheap hotel. “What for?” : : ; ~ “To put up at for a day or two till I kind of get used to the ropes.” , “G’wan! You don’t want no hotel. You can __sleep-with me on the sloop for the present. I’ve - got charge of her, and I always sleep aboard when she ain’t rented out. If you’re in a hurry _ to break that bill the professor gave you, you __ can do it at the restaurant when we go to sup- per.” _ “J accept your invitation, Billy. You’re a good _ little chap and I shan’t forget whatever you do - for me.. Some day I'll be rich and then——” | “How do you expect to get rich?” chipped in Watkins. = ; ae whistles blow fred iad plemty ta do, and acquitted himself to Smith’s satisfaction. : Billy was standing on the sidewalk when the young lumber king ieft the yard. “How do you like the job?” asked Watkins. — “First-rate.” - : 2 =

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loafin’ around that sloop all day. It makes a ‘feller dead lazy, and there ain’t much in it. I wouldn’t mind goin’ up or down the river on an- other trip, partic’ly if I was as well paid and as _-well treated as~I} was by the professor,” said Billy, feeling the little wad of bills in an inside pocket. _ “You don’t always go off in the sloop, do you?” “Nope. Only when the parties want some one to work the boat.” “Where do you stay when the sloop is away?” “Any old place. After this, as long as my * money holds out, I’ll hire a bed.” Lae “I’m going to rent a room near the yard. You : ‘ean bunk in with me when you haven’t the boat ‘to fall back on.” J “I'd like that first rate; but you don’t need no ‘room as long as the sloop is at the wharf.” So it was agreed between them that Fred was to sleep on the boat as long as the opportunity ; offered, and after that Billy would hang out with x this new friend. : ; a CHAPTER XI.—The Midnight Intruder. _ “Who do he s’pose I seen this afternoon cruis- i: “a around the wharves?” said Billy about a week ~ = : ter. a oe ' “How should I know?” replied Fred 7 “He’s a friend of yours,” grinned Watkins. “A friend of mine!” “Yep—Dave Tulley.” “You saw him?” ~-“Sure’s you’re alive.” “Did he see you?” ; ~ “Dunno. If he did he didn’t let on. Guess he’s ufraid of my Japanese grip,” chuckled Billy. _ — “JT don’t want to meet him. If I did I’m afraid there’d be trouble.” > . é “He wouldn’t dare do nothin’ to you in this “T don’t know about that. rascal. He s 1 I escaped being blown up that time.” “And he’s got it in for me because I dumped him into the lake, but 1 ain’t afraid of him,” and j a=, snapped his fingers to show his contempt of - ‘»>Tulley. He’s a vindictive _. The boys were eating their suppers at a restau- _ rant near the wharf where the sloop lay. Fred - was getting on tip-top at the lumber yard, and being an rving boy, as well as ambitious, he _was picking up the business fast. = _ He was learning to recognize the different kinds of wood; to understand their value with re- _ Jation to their particular uses; to get a line on their wholesale and retail prices, and a whole lot of other information which most boys would not have taken the trouble to inform themselves about. Fred, as the reader is aware, had a more important object in view than his weekly wages. - He did not propose to remain a laborer in the _ Jumber yard any longer than he could help. He intended to work himself up—to learn all he could _ about the business in as short a time as possible. at the head of his own extensive business he anted to be thoroughly competent to be able to direct affairs in the right way. “My future rests With myself,” he not yet nineteen, and A YOUNG LUMBER KING ms to have it m for me because. When the time came for him to take his place. ‘ or tunities now the gain will be mine. Most of the men in this yard are just plodding along intent only on putting in their ten hours a and drawing their wages Saturday afternoon. Neca to me if they had tried to learn the ins and outs of the business, as I am trying to*do, they would be a whole lot better off to-day. I heard that Mr. Wheeler himself started out as a boy in a lumber yard, without a cent. Now look at him. He’s a rich man, owns this profitable business, and he lives, I’ll bet, in a awels house.” Fred didn’t see any reason why success should ~— not come to him if he worked for it, just as he — readily understood why fortune never rightfully comes to the shiftless and lazy boy, or the boy who hasn’t the gumption to tackle the problem of his future in the right way. The world is full of industrious and honest plodders. These form the great army of average workmen; but they seldom rise above their level. But some boys grasp the opportunities that come to them and Sunpensentts move up the ladder of success, rung by rung, till in time they reach the top. It is within the power of most of our young ~- readers to do likewise. Ask your parents or ~— guardians if it is not so. When Fred and Billy returned to the sloop after their supper they sat _ in the cockpit and talked about such things as usually “interest boys of their position in the world. As darkness fell upon the river and the neighborhood, lights flashed out along shore from the shipping and from hundreds of houses. The little wharf stood apart from the rest of the docks, — and was silent and deserted at that hour. Nine o’clock came around and Fred, who was tired with his day’s work, said he guessed he would turn in. Billy didn’t feel like retiring at that early hour. is day had been spent in enforced idleness, so he decided to hunt up some of his friends of the neighborhood and put in a couple of hours with 4 them. : ; “Lock yourself in and hang the key on that nail — close to the bull’s-eye winder over my bunk. I kin get it by lying down on the roof and shovin’ = my hand in through the openin’,” he said to Fred. “All right,” replied Fred. So Billy jumped on ~ the wharf and strolled, whistling, away with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. The clock of a church-in the vicinity was striking the hour of wa eleven, and Fred was sleeping as sound as a 3 when a burly figure slouched down the wharf _ toward the sloop. It was Dave Tulley. He had — recognized both the sloop and Billy that after- — noon, and the recollection of what the Bangor — youth had done :to him on the shore of Parme- decook Lake came vividly before his mind, and — he resolved to get back at that lad without un- — necessary delay. By making a few inquiries in the neighborhood he learned that Billy sle ; aboard the craft. He did not find out that Billy — had a companion. Tulley approached the sloop cautiously and reconnoitered her. . The door was shut and everything was still _ about her. He judged that Billy was asleep in- side. Stepping into the tockpit, he felt of the — door and saw that it was fast. ae “He’s locked himself in,” muttered the ex-fir ‘man. “I reckon I'll soon get through that lo He pulled a heavy chisel from under his ja jammed the Dive of the blade into the crack the lock and tried to pry the sliding door ju, ime he was Gide. cmolered ste young a ay i SS a il

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ee ae ie et King woke up. His sharp ears detected the noise at the door, and at first he thought it was Billy Jetting “himself in. The sound, however, was not jike the rattling of a key in the lock, but rather that of slitting wood under pressure. He sprang out of his bunk, looked at the nail on which he had left the key and saw that it was still there. “That isn’t Billy, but somebody trying to force his way in,” he muttered. “I must give him a ” re. _-He took the key down, picked up a club they kept for protection against intruders and slipped ~ ever to the door. Softly inserting the key in the Jock, he turned it. Tulley had. paused to take a yest preparatory to fresh exertion. Once more the stuck the chisel into the crack and bent all his “strength on it. The door slid back so eagily and quickly that he lost his balance and struck his head against the side of the opening. The chisel fell into the cabin and one of the rascal’s arms followed it in. Fred saw his chance and brought the club down on the upper part of his arm with ‘& force that wrung a how! of pain from the man. _ Tulley was something of a coward and he turned to make his escape. Fred or outside and whacked him full on the back with the cudgel. _ The rascal fell over in a heap in the cockpit, howl- ye and swearing. _ door nearly to, watching Tulley through the crack. __ The scoundrel scrambled up and looked toward the door. He expected to see Billy standing there with a stick in his hand, instead of which the door seemed to be closed again. He was furious, for his arm and back pained him considerably. And, what was even worse, he did not see how he could get back at his intended victinf. : eee . Sod get square with you, you little villain! 5 red. S NS response came to his threat. After glaring in impotent rage at the door, he got on to the wharf and began to meditate how he could get ‘the best of the occupant of the cabin. He wanted i to wait till the acmntiabe got out of his arm, too. *% He swore under his breath as he rubbed the _ injured member. What he didn’t intend to do to 5 Billy isn’t worth mentioning. Fred poked his head out of the déor and looked at him. He had recognized the rascal. Tulley thought it was _ Billy’s face he saw, as the night was dark. — ch fix you, you young varmint!” he hissed, king his fist at Fred. e. wre that moment Billy himself came down the wharf. As he drew near the sloop he saw the - ¢ntruder bent over toward the boat. - Knowing ‘the man had no business there, though at the moment he did not recognize him as Spee he uttered a loud yell’ and jumped forward. ulley, startled by the unexpected and sudden onset in his rear, turned around and started back. He stumbled bi pon the string-piece, lost his balance, and with a loud yell fell backward, clutching fruitlessly at the spile-head, into the river. cH APTER XII.—Fred’s Unexpected Meeting igs with Sol Scott. rascal went under with a loud splash. The yt Help!” he shouted, as he came up and jout in the water. + ae A YOUNG LUMBER KING ed jumped back into the cabin and drew the. ~ Billy wasn’t stuck on working while he had mon —— swept him under the wharf and out at» the - % li Billy ran over to look for him, but the fellow was so far beyond his reach that he could not help him. Then he turned toward the sloop, intending to get the oars out of the cabin and go to the man’s assistance in the skiff which floated from the stern of the bigger boat.. Then it was he saw Fred standing in the cockpit in an airy costume. “Did Tulley fall in the water?” asked Fred. “Was that Tulley?” asked Billy. “Ves,” “He fell in, all right. I’ve got to help him out, I s’pose, though I hate to do it,” said Billy. j “He’s caught hold of one of the spiles of the next wharf and the night watchman is helping him out,” replied Fred. . “I’m glad of it. Let’s get inside and you can tell me what happened.” ’ They entered the cabin, secured the door, and then Fred explained to Billy all that had tran- spired from the moment he woke up and heard the noise at the door. “Gee ! You handed it out hot-to him,” cried Billy delightedly. “The bath he got in the river ought to finish him. If I see him hangin’ around this neighborhood I’m goin’ to have him arrested. for tryin’ to break into the cabin of the sloop. If ' he knows what’s good for himself he'll keep q away.” Fred hopped into bed and Billy did likewise, ~~ and in a little while both were asleep. Tulley was pulled out of the water by the night watch- man of the next wharf. He told hi rthat ~~ he had fallen into the river by accident. The watchman advised him to get a stiff horn of whisky at a nearby saloon and then go home and get into bed. Tulley walked into the saloon, drip- ping like a dog just out of the water. He called for several whiskies and then started for his lodgings. He tock more whiskies on the way, so that by the timehe reached his room he + _ was more than half drunk. He was in an ugly temper as well. He made so much noise that one of the other lodgers remonstrated with him. A = scrap was the result and both were arrested. At ‘ . the examination the next morning the magistrate | decided that all the blame lay with Tulley, and he sent him to the workhouse for six months: For that reason Fred and Billy didn’t see him any more, though they were on their guard against — another visit from the rascal. Fred continued to give great satisfaction at the lumber yard, and — Mr. Wheeler, in replying to a letter from Profes- ,_ sor Aldwinkle, wrote the naturalist that the boy , was turning out one of the best hands he had ever _ had in his yard. ee Saas Thus time passed, summer came and Billy went — = off on a long trip in the sloop, which fact com- pelled the young lumber king to secure other lodg- — ings for himself. Billy was gone three months. - On his return the sloop was sold and that threw him out of his sinecure. Fred hired a jerger room > with two beds and took Billy with him. He made — the Bangor youth look for another job at once. in his clothes, but Fred, who had great influence with him, talked him into giving up his old tricks for good. The lad soon caught on with the poster of the Opera House, and after that worked steadily. Thus six months passed a altogether since Fred landed in Bangor, ar the yard. had become assistant foremar *‘n Pe tuted —< Sastaagh 4 St 7. ae te oe

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ae: Wages were now higher than the amounts paid to many men who had been in Mr. Wheeler’s em- py. for several years. <= had earned his promotion not only by strict -- attention to his duties, but by the knowledge of : the business he had pickead up in one way or an- other. He had made himself an important factor in the yard, and stood high in his employer’s good opinion. It was about this time that Dave Tulley was released from the workhouse. He had never forgotten the grudge he had against Fred and cp: Billy, the latter particularly. He had viewed a = hundred times in prison that he would get square on the small youth if he didn’t on the other. The first thing he did therefore was to go to the wharf where the sloop formerly was moored to see if: he could get a line on Billy. He learned of the sale of the boat and the disappearancé of her young keeper. He was greatly disappointed, for it looked to him as if he strakth lose his revenge S after ail. -. - That same day, Fred, on his way back to the rS yard after dinner, ran smack against an elderly man coming toward him. The man slipped and began Fred. ‘fell to the flagging. “I beg your pardon,” “J didn’t see—why, Sol Scott, is it really you?’ It was the cook of the logging camp. The man looked up in some surprise and then scrambled on his feet. He stodd. and stared at Fred almost incredulously. “Sonny, this isn’t your ghost, is it?” he said. ~ “Ghost! What put that into your head? I think I must look like a pretty healthy ghost,” re- plied the boy laughingly. “Why, I thought you were dead. The men who were felling trees on the bluff the afternoon Silas McBee took you out of the engine-room, accused _. you of stealing $200 from him, and tried to make ; confess by having you tied to a tree over- ; Tookin’ the river, reported that McBee carried matters a bit too far. In his attempt to scare you, Wagner, followin’ his orders, cut too far - into the tree, which snapped off and carried you down into the river. An effort was made to save you, but it failed, and so everybody believed you _ were drowned.” _ “The fact that you are talking to me now is ‘pretty good evidence that I was not drowned,” replied Fred. “I escaped drowning as well as starvation through a fortunate combination of ‘circumstances which landed me in this town and me a first-rate job in yonder lumber yard. ae time for me to get back to work, so I cannot talk with you any longer just now; but if you ee na Bey me where you are , stopping I will call on te at: and tell you my story.” “I am second cook at the Passamaquoddy Inn on. Blank Street, a pretty high-toned neighbor- ood. I have a room there. Come. up and see “me, to-night if you can.” will,” said Pred and then they parted. Passamaquoddy Inn was situated in the idst of the wealthy residents of Bangor, and ed, on inquiry, found that a street car would e him within a few blocks of the place. Shortly he finished his supper he started for the He found it without difficulty, but had - it Pogo Pon Sol was off Entre The cook th ichtags FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY with him, Sol declaring repeatedly that it did hip old eyes good to see his young friend once more in the land of the living. 2 “I am glad to know that you have landed in a : good berth,” he said. “and that you are comin” = on in the world. I have quite a few things to = you, too, and one is I’ve come into a legacy.” “A legacy!” exclaimed Fred in surprise. “A law firm of this city has been lookin’ for me along time. A relative of mine I hadn’t seen for years died and left me some forest land in the northern part of this State, bordering on one of the tributaries of the Penobscot River. The lawyers say the property, which cost my relative hardly anything, is quite valuable now,” said the cook, who did not show any indication of a swelled head over his good fortune. “My goodness! You're lucky. I congratulate ‘ou.”’ = a “T never expected to be well off. I can_hardly realize that 1 am, or will be, as soon as the law- yers settle the matter up.” : “What do you expect to do with your property? sas Sell it?” asked Fred. “T don’t know. I shouldn’t know what to do with a Jot of money if I had it. I have never — been used to much prosperity.” “You ought to make it turn you in an income in some way.’ “T will consider the matter after I get posses- sion of the property,” replied Sol without any enthusiasm in his tone. “Whatever I do, sonny, I shall have an eye on your future. I intend to help you along, as.I haven’t anybody else in the world in whom I am interested.” It was close on to midnight when Fred left the old man’s room and started for his lodgings. He. was walking along on the shady side of the prin-* cipal residential street of Bangor, when he saw 4 a gentleman and a young lady approaching up a side street. They did not specially attract his a notice, and he would not have given them a second thought had he not suddenly noticed the suspicious __ actions of two men who were standing close tothe corner they would have to pass. “; Fred stopped, for he had an idea something was going to happen. Something did happen as soon as the gentleman and his companion reached the corner. The two men sprang suddenly upon them, one seizing the young lady and choking off a half-uttered scream, while the other. attacked . her escort. Apparently the two rascals were foot- — pads and their object meant robbery. Pam swree She Tre 4 Para ve 4 << 2 Arh - CHAPTER XW. —Fred and Jennie Wheeler. - It did not take Fred but a moment to make up Fe his mind te go to the assistance of the persons” eo attacked. The fact that he would have two ras- _ cals to contend with who might be armed, nue weapon, did not cool his resolve. : : He was strong and active and could use his fists is with some skill, and besides he was fall st pisces ; hehe across the street in a Jiffy and spy

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upon the fellow who had hold of the young lady, ‘who seemed to be about fifteen years of age. _. “Biff! He landed a sledge-hammer blow on the _rascal’s jaw, sending him staggering against a railing and causing him to release the girl, who shrank back. As Fred followed up his attack he caught a good view of his antagonist. He expe- rienced a shock of surprise as he recognized Dave - Pulley. Tulley also knew him, and with an ex- _clamation of rage jumped at him. Fred avoided ‘a swinging blow and planted one himself on the t of the man’s chin, sending him to the walk dazed and knocked out. Seeing that Tulley made no immediate effort to get up Fred turned his at- _ tention to the other footpad who was having some trouble to overcome the gentleman. Smack! Fred slugged him under the ear and he went down as though hit by a club. The boy then stood over him ready to repeat the blow as soon as the man‘tried to get up. : : “Oh, father, father!” cried the girl, running into the gentleman’s arms. “You blamed imp!” roared the second ruffian, _ making a swipe at Fred as he started to rise. “Tl kill you!” ; The boy avoided the blow and jabbed him a short undercut on the side of his bulldog jaw that sent him sprawling once more. : “Tulley was now recovering his faculties and started to help his companion. The gentleman interfered in so energetic a way that the ex-fire- man hauled off. Fred followed his man right up, giving him no time te get up. He slugged him x the third time in the eye and then seized him by the collar of his. jacket.” It was apparent that neither of the rascals was armed, or they would have drawn their weapons before this. Pulley, seeing-he could not help his associate, and _ fearing that a policeman might show up, took to his heels and disappeared down the street. The & gentleman then heiped Fred hold the other foot- pad. -Then it was that the unexpected +s tion took place. The gentleman proved to be Mr. Wheeler, d’s employer. a a “Why, Drew, is that you: B: merchant in surprise. EDs “Yes, sir. Glad 1 happened ane in time to help you What are we going to do with this mA “ ? ene March him to my house. It’s only a few steps away.” = | ; > 7 > 3 E > 2 said the lumber the morning to press the ch: z Mr Wheeler, in- , A YOUNG LUMBER KING 19 troducing Fred, after the ponent had taken the footpad away. “We are both under great obliga- tions to you for coming to our aid.” “Glad to make your acquaintance, Miss Whéeel- er,” said Fred with a polite bow. The girl bowed and smiled at the good-looking ry. : “T won’t forget your plucky conduct, Drew,” said the merchant. “I am rather glad it was you, one of my employees, to whom we are so much indebted. It will give me the better o portunity to testify my appreciation in some P- & stantial way.” Oi seins “That’s all right, Mr. Wheeler. Don’t worry about repaying me in any way. Your thanks are sufficient. It was my duty to interfere, and it is an added satisfaction to know that I was able to render my employer a special service.” Mr. Wheeler shook him warmly by the hand and then Fred took his leave: Next morning Fred and Mr. Wheeler appeared against the foot- pad and he was held for trial. Fred gave the police a description of Tulley, and men were sent out to locate and arrest him. The rascal, however, avoided capture by leav- ing the city early in the morning, but he swore to get even with Fred at the first chance. On the following day Jennie Wheeler paid a visit to her father’s lumber yard, something she hadn’t done * before in months. The object of her visit was to meet Fred again, as his plucky conduct against the footpads, as well as his good-looking face, and the high way her father spoke about the lad. greatly attracted her. Her father happened to be away, so she walked out into the yard. She found Fred directing a gang of three men who were loading a big truck with boards of extra width. Fred recognized her and bowed courteously. She smiled sweetly and asked him a few unimportant questions about the wood that was being put on the truck. The fact that she was his employer’s daughter, and was dressed in’ swell style, made Fred rather shy about following up the opening she had made for him. Finally she said: “You were, very brave to step in and attack those two men night before last. I noticed that ou handled yourself in a fearless way. I don’t ow what father and I should have done but for your timely appearance. I had much of my jewel ry on, for we had attended a reception a few blocks from our home. Mother was not feeling well, so she did not come with us. We did not think it worth while to use our carriage, for the distance was so short. I preferred to walk, anyway. There is little doubt that we would have been robbed of everything we had, so I want you to know that I am very grateful to you.” Fred bowed and blushed a bit under the be- witching look she gave him. He felt somethin like a fiish out of water in the presence of suc a lovely, and accomplished girl. “You must come up and see us some night soon,” she continued. “Won’t you?” “T would be glad to, but——’ He was thinking that it was hardly his place to visit his employer’s daughter, and, moreover, he did not consider his best suit good enough in which to appear at the Wheeler home. “Oh, you really must come,” she said in such a perspaticts way that he didn’t know how to re- fuse her. . ‘

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ere BP “l'm afraid I wouldn’t look nice enough to call at your house,” he said. a7 ot look nice enough!” she exclaimed. - _ Jooked all right the other night, I am sure.” “That was well enough in its way, but not good enough to present myself in at your house.” . “You looked nice enough, I’m sures You must a not feel that we are going to criticize your ap- pearance. We don’t expect you to look like a young man of fashion. I judge a person by what he is, not what he tries to make himself out to be. You are my ideal of a real boy. I don’t wish to flatter you when I say that I would prefer your company to that of many boys who move in our set. My father says you are an uusually smart boy and bound to make your mark in time. That is my opinion, too, though I have seen but little of Ou. “You “You are baa A kind to express such a. good opinion of me, Miss Wheeler. I shall endeavor to pete tt pe bt cr aia good opinion also,” repli red with a flush. ~ “Well, I must be going now. Shall we expect - you to call—say, Friday evening?” she said. “T will call,” replied Fred, seeing no way out it. e “Very well. We will look for you about eight _ +» o'clock. Good-by.” as Z “Good-by, Miss Wheeler.” Fred looked after her and thought what a lovely girl she was in every way. She put on none of the airs that many rich young ladies af- fected. She was as unassuming as though her a were in average circumstances, whereas r. Wheeler was one of Bangor’s richest and fore- most citizens. _ “She’s a fine girl, all right,” he said to himself, as he returned to the work he was engaged in, ; and ten minutes later the truck drove out of the “yard and he went into the office to turn over the order to the head bookkeeper. CHAPTE XIV.—Fred Discovers a Startling Plot. ~ On the following ag! he went up to Mr. Wheeler when he saw him in the yard. : “Your daughter was here yesterday, and in- _ yited me to call at your home. I promised her I would, but I am not sure that you would care to have me do so.” ee : “Why not? My daughter told me she invited you and that you were coming. We shall expect * Well 5 nize the fact that I am only an employee of yours, and not a very old one, so——” ~ -“Don’t let that fact make you think that you ill not be welcome at my home. I regard you ; ‘one of my most promising workers. You will _ not always occupy the position you do now. The fact that you have risen to be an assistant fore- man here at your age, and after such short serv- - jee, is evidence that you are not an ordinary boy. You have earned your advancement in a way that jeets my heartiest approval, and I would not be surprised to see you in full charge of this yard some day.” ; _ _ Then telling Fred that he would be expected ees Bee totic matte pe al er ag yp the eling pretty 2g in aed e 1 goin’ to-night?” asked ‘admitted him to the sitting-room upstairs, which; » sir, of course I will come then; but I_ A YOUNG LUMBER KING ee Billy Watkins Friday evening when he walked into the room he shared. with Drew, and saw Fred sprucing up in an unusual way. ¥ a “Going to call at the boss’s house to-night.” . : “Gee! Gettin’ into swell society, ain’t. you?” grinned Billy. = “Oh, it may not happen again—that is, soon.” “Sort of special occasion, eh?” ; “That’s about it.” 2 in the world. I’d like “Nothin’ like gettin’ up to do the grand myself if I had the chance; but __ nothin’ like that comes my way. You’re a born — gent, I guess. You’re smart and have been to : school. I ain’t had no such luck. My old man was a longshoreman, and my mother took in ~ washin’. I never went to school any more than I could help. I’ve learned more since I’ve beer | with you than I ever learned before. You've , been a real friend to me and I ain’t forgettin’ it. I'll stand by you as long as you let me. When you feel that you don’t want to know me any more, why, I’ll get out.” , ae “I hope that time will never come, Billy, You ~ may not be educated and refined, but you’re Eig right sort, and I’ll never shake you, though we ree | in time separate as roommates. I’m going: to help you get along in the*world and be your friend, Billy; paste that fact in your hat,” re= plied Fred earnestly. seh “Thanks, Fred. I always thought you were the real goods and a yard wide. If I ever can do ~~ anything for you, you kin bet yer boots I'll do it quick as wink,” answered the Bangor youth em- __ phatically. & “T know you would Billy. Going to the theatre; I suppose? Sas “Bet your life, lam. There’s a new show on to= ~ night. A melodrama full of thrills, where the heroine says, ‘Stand aside, villain, and lett me pass,’ when the chap in swell togs and a cigarette: — tries to win her away from her best feller.” ye The boys took a car at the next corner, and Bill ped ee off in front of the Opera Houses) while Fred continued on toward S—— ay : where the Wheelers lived. iat When he reached his employer’s house a maid: 2 2 =o was an honor he was not aware of, as most were taken into the parlor on the lower floor, . Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler were in the room, andy : Fred was introduced to the latter. w= Jennie soon came in, looking uncommonly lovely; _ in a fine house gown. She sat beside Fred ro devoted herself entirely to him during the eve~ — ning. After Fred had been there about an hour r. Wheeler went out, but came back in a few, minutes with a couple of small boxes in his hand. “I wish to present you with a small token off — my appreciation of your services the other eve-; — ning,” said the merchant, removing the cover~ from one of the boxes and then handing it Fred. ase Looking into it the boy saw a fine gold watehy and chain to match. Before Fred could open mouth to express the surprise he felt at rece’ such a handsome present, Jennie took the other ~ box from her father and said: Ser “And this is my present, which goes with th

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-* The boy gasped and for a moment he Seemed - tongue-tied, then he managed to stammer out his _ thanks, but conscious he was getting all tangled up. The rest of the evening passed very pleas- =». antly, and at ten o’clock he got up to go. Jennie accompanied him to the hall door and gave him a pressing invitation to call again soon. “J shall claim you as my own particular visitor ~ next time,” she said with an encouraging smile, “so remember you must ask for me when the maid comes to the door.” _ + “Certainly,” he replied, delighted at the idea of being entertained by her alone. “I will call any _ time. you. say.” _» “Then come next Friday,’ she said. » Several weeks passed, and then Smith, the fore- man, falling sick, his duties were turned over to Fred to perform. Late one afternoon Fred re- ceived a memorandum from the bookkeeper of a large order he was told to get out in the morning “a hurry, and send it to its destination on the ms belonging to the yard. He knew where d all the stuff but one of the items mentioned. Rhis was something he did not know was in the yard. He consulted the other sub-foreman, but he had no. idea where the stuff was stored. He went _ around and asked the hands one by one if they knew anything about the wood in question, but ne of them did. “That’s funny,” mused the young lumber king, or one or two of the men must have had a hand gotten all about the matter. Fred would have made it a point to call on Smith that evening to msult him about the matter, but he knew the eman had gone out of town to recuperate. He d some idea about consulting Mr. Wheeler, but that gentleman had gone home the boy did at he ought to visit him at his house, it was not certain he knew where the material been stowed-in the yard. ‘Besides, Fred hated to pethey his ignorance, ough, as a matter of fact, he could not be id accountable for a matter that had occurred fore he.came to work in the yard. After, con- ing the matter for a while, he took a lantern, it was growing dark, and went to different es where he fancied the stuff might be, but y n quitting time’ came he had not succeeded im locating what he was in search of. earried the key of the office, he locked up and t home. ile at Supper he suddenly thought of a of the yard he had never been in except or twice when he was an ordinary laborer. ‘It was a sort of pocket that extended out over _the river. 7 «=, “Maybe the stuff is there?” he thought. “T'l supper and started for his there first thing in the morning.” » finished his ; es. Before he had gone far he stopped. think I'l go back to the rd, take a lantern * he said. “If I knew ne Sater on he went, let himself in jlantern and started he. A YOUNG LUMBER KING As he * Soe | 21 _ “Eureka!” he exclaimed at last, flashing the light upon a certain spot. “Here it is, stowed <A this corner. Nothing like perseverance after all. He was delighted at his success, for now there would be no delay in the morning shipment. He put the lantern down behind a pile of lumber and walked to the end of the pocket to glance out on the river. As he laid his arms on the bulkhead he heard voices beneath him. Looking down he saw two shadowy forms perched on the thick stringer. Strangers had no right to be there, especially at that hour. He po about to yell at.them when one of them said: “If you’re ready, Tulley, we’ll crawl over the bulkhead and start the ball rollin’. It’s nearly eight now, and the watchman is at the other end of the yard by this time.” “All right,” replied the other. “This is where I get square with Wheeler for sendin’ my pal up. He’d have sent me up, too, if I hadn’t lit out of town too quick for the cops. We'll wake the town up with a blaze that’ll give the whole fire department the job of their lives, and Wheeler will lose a fortune, for I reckon he ain’t more than half insured.” “My gracious!” gasped Fred. “That’s Tulley, and he and another chap are going to set fire to the yard. Well, if they do it will be because I can’t stop them.” : ~ He slipped back to where he had left the # lantern, blew it out, and then picking a stout pire of seantling off a pile close at hand, he id himself in a dark spot and awaited the ar- rival of the two rascals. oe = CHAPTER XV.—Fred Is Made Manager of the Lumber Yard. Hardly had Fred concealed himself when he saw a figure scramble over the bulkhead, fol- lowed by a second. ; They sprang down into the pocket. them carried a big bundle under his arm. “This oil-coaked waste will give the blaze a fine start before the watchman gets on to the fact that the yard is afire,” said Tulley’s com- ypanion. “Then it will be too late for him to do anythin’ but send in a fire alarm. By the time the engines get here the fire will be under good headway.” “Where shall we start the blaze? I should think this pocket would be a good place. ome to be a lot of light stuff here,” said Tul- ey. “This is as good a spot as any. We’ll shove z One of — \ There. — the waste under “his pile and then apply a match. You attend to it while I go and see where — the watchman is. Don’t light up till I get back.” Tulley’s associate pass fireman to plant the oiled waste where it would do the most harm. e3. “There, that will do first rate,’ Fred heard Tulley mutter in a tone of satisfaction. “It’s all Spe for business as soon as Moseby gets Fred ji it we time for him Spas eee “ *, Fred’s hiding place -and disappeared in the darkness, leaving the ex-

Page 24

chance he had was while the man Moseby was away. Creeping from his place of concealment, Fred drew near the unsuspecting Tulley. Raising the seantling, he struck the rascal on the head just hard enough to temporarily stun him. Springing ~ on him, he pul-:¢ the fellow’s handkerchief out of his pocket and tied his hands behind his back. Then he gagged him with a bunch of the oiled = waste. ‘After which he dragged him out ef sight = behind the bulkhead and lay in wait for Moseby. 0% That chap did not stay away long. “Where are you, Tulley?” he cried in a low - tone. : 5 “Here,” replied Fred, stepping up and knock- ing him down with the scantling. “Now, lie still, or I’ll break your head.” The young acting foreman then began to shout for the night watchman. .In a few minutes the e man appeared on the scene. =e “Who’s there?” he asked, pausing at the en- trance to the pocket. “Fred Drew. Come here. I’ve caught a cou- ple of rascals as they were about to set fire to this yard.” ; “How did you get on to them? I had no idea you or any one else was in the yard.” “T’ll tell you later. Get a rope.” So the watchman went for the rope. ' 1 say, young feller, let me off, and I’ll make it all right with you,” said Moseby. “This ain’t my plan, but the other chap’s, who brought me here to help him. “As long as you came to help him you’re just as guilty as he is.” : “He’s got a grudge against the owner of -this yard and I hain’t.” ; . “Then why did you butt into what didn’t con- cern you?” * “Just to oblige him.” ““That’s where you were a fool, and you’ll have ie oe, tO pay: for it.” E a5 The watchman now reappeared with the rope, ee ~-and in spite of Moseby’s resistance they secured “HH Fred. then showed the watchman where Tul- Jey lay helpless behind the bulkhead. +33 “We'll take them over to the office and notify the police. Just lock at that big bunch Of oil- ' soaked cotton-waste they stowed under that dried pile of light wood. Once that was lighted the whole poe et would have been ablaze in no time at all,” said Fred. “We 'won’t disturb that till the police see it as evidence against the ras- iS. They dragged the men to the office and then _ Fred called up the police station and told the of- ficer at the desk about the serious catastrophe _ which had happilv been averted. The man promised that several’ policeman would be sent right away. After ringing off _ Fred called up Mr. Wheeler’s house. The lum- _ berman himself answered. Fred told the story over the wire, and explained how it came about _ that he was on hand at the critical moment to save the yard. ‘ In due time the police showed up, viewed the ne of the contemplated starting point of the and carried the two rascals off with them. een minutes later Mr. Wheeler drove up _ around to the — = ag ‘pocket and Ss ms A YOUNG LUMBER KIN¢ . showed him the bundle of waste soaked with oil ready to be ignited. Soon “Drew, ere saved the yard. I am under the greatest obligation to you, and you may be sure I won’t forget the service you have done for me,” he said. . Next mornin;, the rascals were held for trial by the police court magistrate. Subsequently they were: tried, convicted and got fifteen years each in State prison, where they still are. Mr. Wheeler presented Fyed with his check for $1,000 as an evidence of his appreciation of the boy’s prompt action in the emergency. Fred did not want to take it, but the merchant in- sisted. : A week afterward Smith returned to work, and the young lumber king resumed his duties as under foreman, but he had established a high- water record in the yard that would always stand to his credit. : With the beginning of the new year Mr. Wheeler called Fred into his office and told him that he was going to post him in all the details — of the business so that he would be competent to °_ take charge of the yard. — 3 ~~ “Tm going to Europe with my family this summer, and we expect to remain away four or . five months. I have picked you out as the person to run the business during my absence. It will be a great responsibility, but I believe you will be equal to it. It is a position, too, that calls for integrity, of character, for I will have to give you a confidential insight into many things that no one knows but myself. I don’t know any one else in my employ I feel I could trust as much as” you, nor in fact do I think there is any one more ; capable than yourself to undertake the manage- ment of my business affairs while I am away. You are young, it is true, but you have a won- derful head on your shoulders, and I put great faith in it.” Fred was astonished, but Ped believed he would, after suitable coaching, bé able to run things =~ to Mr. Wheeler’s satisfaction. — He thanked the lumber merchant for offering * him such a splendid opportunity to show what was in him, and promised to discharge his trust faithfully. > : From that day at intervals during the next four months Fred was closeted with Mr. Wheeler ‘jm his private office, and he gradually, became acquainted with all the inside details of a big lumber business. No one in the office or yard Knew any about the important position that Fred was slated for until Mr. Wheeler made the announce- ment officially that he had made the. boy : manager of his yard, and that during his & heel- er’s) absence in Europe Fred would be the boss — of the place. - : aR As the boy had made himself a favorite among the employees no jealousy was created by his re- markable advancement,.though all were pees Pa prised. It was generally credited to the fact that Fred had in various ways made himself solid with his employer. : So Mr. Wheeler, his wife and Jennie left Ban- gor for their European trip, and our hero as<« sumed charge of the business. oS Jennie promised to, correspond regularly Fred, and he assured her he would 2 el . ; : ey

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her letters, so it may be assumed that they had become very warm friends indeed. - When Billy heard that Fred was boss pro tem. of the Wheeler lumber yard he turned several -sumersaults expressive of his delight at his iend’s big rise in the world. _ “You’ll be a partner in the business bimeby,” he said in a tone of satisfaction. _. “Oh, I guess not!” laughed Frec. “The old man has got a daughter and you’re - sweet on her. All you’ve got to do is to marry her and then her father will.take you into the business. That’s the way things always turn out in story books, and there ain’t no reason why it ~shouldn’t turn out the same way with you,” said Billy, nodding his head emphatically. _ _ “Billy, you mustn’t talk nonsense,” said Fred ~ severely. + “Gwan! That’s ain’t nonsense. That’s the proper thing. You've worked, your way up to manager of the biz. There ain’t no reason why _ you shouldn’t be junior partner next. If it don’t turn out that way you kin call me a——” + Rap, rap ,rap. .“See who’s at the door, Billy.” : It was the landlady with a letter for Fred just left by a messenger. The young lumber manager tore the envelope ‘open and glanced over the enclosure. It was written on one of the letter headings of the Pas- samaquoddy Inn and was in the handwriting of e manager. It ran as follows: ants to see you at ane on a matter of great _ Importance. ours truly - “Howarp Hazuitt, Mer.” My gracious!” exclaimed Fred after master- x the brief contents of the note. ain’t afire, is it?”. “No. You remember I have often spoke to you at Sol Seott?” Sure.” He’s met with an accident which the doctor thinks is fatal. Sol has sent for me, so I’ll have - to take a car and go right over to the Inn.” to him?” : + state anything about it,” re- I suppose he hain’t got much money T he wants to see that he is planted decently.” lot of It is ly. =* nothing the matter with his upper . It simply pleases him to work, that’s all. e's * ’t know how to take ad- A YOUNG LUMBER KING ‘What’s the matter?” asked Billy, noting the ~ ious look in his roommate's face. “The lum-- - message when he felt he needed special ‘inst used t> it, and prosperity is such a surprise | em sae he doesn’ 23 Fred was ready to go, and Billy went with . him as far as the Opera House. When Fred reached the Passamaquoddy Inn — he found Sol Scott almost at his last gasp. - The old man’s dimming eyes brightened when the boy entered the room. “Sonny,” he whispered feebly, “I’m done for.” “What happened to him?” Fred asked the at- tendant. “The copper coffee urn exploded in his face - and a piece of the metal was driven into one of his lungs,” was the answer. “I’m sorry to find you this way, Sol,” said Fred in a sorrowful tone. : “T know you are, sonny, but it can’t be helped. My time has come and I’ve got to go. That leg- © acy of mine hasn’t done me much good, but it’s a satisfaction to me to know that you will bene- fit by it. You are Le « only friend and I have left it to.you. Open that top drawer of the bu- reau and you will find my will properly signed and witnessed. My lawyers drew it up and it makes you my heir.” “Never mind the will now, Sol,” said Fred. - The cook insisted, however, that he must take , _ possession of it at once. _ “E shan’t die happy unless I know you’ve got it. I want to see it in your hands.” -So Fred took possession of the will, and then the old man smiled happily. “You’re a fine boy, sonny, a fine boy. You’ve got up in the world without any help, but you~ need money, for money is the main thing in this world. Well, that paper will make you well off as soon as I am dead.” a Fred took the old man’s hand in his own and strove to make his last hours as pleasant as pos- ‘sible. -The cook lingered for an hour and then ae died whispering: : - “Bless you, sonny. I’m going. I feel every- thin’ slippin’ eway from me. I can’t see your face, but I can feel your hand. Bless—you!” : _ And so he died, with a sweet smile on his face, as though he saw the golden gates ajar in the distance, and a heavenly host coming to welcome —§ him to that place where the weary are forever-— at rest. , Fred closed his eyes, bound up his sagging jaw, and composed his limbs. : 2 Then he left the room and sent a messenger to — the Opera House to tell Billy Watkins to come out to the Passamaquoddy Inn. Billy came, and’ - the two kept an all-night vigil beside the cook’s corpse. l’ext morning Fred gave directions to an undertaker to take charge of Scott’s body and place it in a fine coffin after embalming it. Fred. bought a nice plot in the Bangor cemetery and = had the old man interred in it. Later on he © raised a fine headstone to his memory. He hired — Scott’s lawyers to probate the cook’s will, 3 the, legal gentlemen congratulated him on coming into possession of a handsome legacy. In the meantime Fred carried on Mr. Wheeler’s lumber oe ard in a way that satisfied the employees that — = e was born to the business. - Sree He had kept Mr. Wheeler informed regularly _ by letter how things were going-on, and once in- a while had been obliged to send him a cable _ “ tions. " ; ‘The Wheelers returned late in O

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Miss Jennie looked prettier than ever, and she appeared to be delighted to meet Fred again. “You have done remarkably well, Fred,” said Mr. Wheeler on his first visit to the office. “In fact, I am so pleased with the way in which you have conducted my business that I have decided to make you a present of a small interest in the yard on the first of the year, and have you con- tinue as general superintendent.” “Thank you, Mr. Wheeler, but I shall have to decline your kind offer.” : ae “What’s that? Decline to become a partner ‘in my business?” exclaimed the lumberman in : great astonishment. ay “Yes, sir. No doubt this seems strange to you that I, whom you regard as a boy without other prospects than what I have made for myself, ait should turn down such a liberal proposition. In Py order to set myself right it will be necessary for = me to make an explanation which I had hoped \ sy to keep back for some time yet.” AES “What explanation?” . “This, sir. I sought employment in your yard apparently as a poor and friendless boy, and I have endeavored to live up to the character ever since. I am not poor, however, neither am I friendless. I am an orphan, it is true, but my rdian, John Singleton, is a noted lawyer of Portland, where I was born and brought up. You a have probably heard of Willis Peabody, president 3 of the rthwestern Lumber Co.?” “Certainly I have: While he lived he was known as Maine’s lumber king. He left his ex- tensive property to his grandson, I understand.” “He did. I am that grandson, for Mr. Pea- body was my mother’s father.” “What!” ejaculated Mr. wheeler, staring at Fred. “You Mr. Peabody’s grandson?” “Yes, sir. I am virtually the owner of the Northwestern Lumber Co. and all the thousands of acres of timber land that formerly belonged to Willis Peabody.” The lumber man fairly ped at this revela- + tion. It seemed too incredulous for him to be- __ Jieve. If this boy was really the heir in question, --—s what induced him to masquerade as a poor boy, and seek an humble position in a lumber yard? : Fred hastened to tell him the reason. He told _~+=Mr. Wheeler about the interview he had had _ with his guardian in which the lawyer had put the matter squarely before him as to his plans for the future. Whether he should go to college or start out and learn the lumber business, in which his fu- ture interests lay, from the ground floor up. : He had elected to do the latter, and then told the merchant about his weeks of rugged experi- ence at the logging camp, which ended more sud- denly than he had counted on, and almost ended _- him at the same time. 7 ustice I had suffered at “My report of the inj i the hands ofthe superintendent, Silas McBee, I - forwarded to my guardian soon after I went to work for you, and it led to Mr. McBee’s dis- Since I have been in this town I have nunicated regularly with Mr. Singleton, and him informed of my progress in your yard.” fy gracious! This revelation of yours is the est surprise of my life,” said Mr. Wheeler. you see why I cannot accept an interest usiness, though I should like to con- pus! - ent. or in any other — hana ‘ 4) A YOUNG LUMBER KING _responsible capacity, until the time comes for me to take charge of my own interests in the lum- ber company.” “T shall be glad to have you remain with me as long as you feel disposed to do so,” said the — lumber merchant cordially. . “Thank you, sir. That will suit me very well indeed.” On the following evening he called at Mr. Wheeler’s house, for he was now recognized as a wealthy young lumber king and not a com- paratively poor lad of ordinary parentage. He contiuued to visit there wit: unfailing reg- ularity, and Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler noted with satisfaction that Fred and their daughter were likely to make a match. . When the boy reached his twenty-first birth- day he severed his connection with the Wheeler lumber yard and assumed the responsibilities of head of the Northwestern Lumber Co. Fred sent Billy Watkins into the wilderness to fill a job under the superintendent at what that. young lad thought a princely ‘salary. “Learn all you can about the business, Billy,” said Fred on parting from him. “I want you to become superintendent some day yourself, and I -shall spe greatly disappointed if you don’t make ‘ood. “Gee! That will be fine. I’ll get there, F for I’m going to imitate you—work myself up. He was appointed superintendent four years later when he came to Bangor at Fred’s partic- ular request to witness his wedding to Jennie Wheeler. ‘ Fred and Jennie went to California on their wedding trip, and while they were away Mr. Wheeler, who was vice-president of the lumber company, transacted the duties of president and manager. ; Fred transferred Sol Scott’s legacy over to Billy as a nest-egg for his future, and Watkins considers himself pretty well fixed. . The Northwestern Lumber Co. is the most im- portant one of its kind in the State, and Fred is independently wealthy. As he is not yet thirty, he may still be propx« _ erly styled a young lumber king. Next week’s issue will contain “RALPH ROY’S RICHES; or, ASMART BOY’S RUN ON WALL STREET LUCK.” : : TOBACCO ox Snuff, Habit Ee Cured Or No Pay , chewing or snuff. Full treatment sent co eee Ugo cretmthing ita Used by ret Be A Detective Make Secret Investigations Earn Big Money. Work home or travel, at eg om work. Excellent opportu. nity. Ast free. Write: _ GEORGE R. WAGNER Former Government Detectiva : 1968 Broadway, New York , ee. ets Pie A tS oe taee “ Experience unnecessary. Partice = - = wi tat ‘ \ ake te. ae

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Charlie Cooper’s Curves THE STAR PLAYER OF THE | UNKNOWN NINE By Gaston Garne (A Serial Story.) CHAPTER XXI. How The Game Was Won. _. Then Charlie sent in one of he famous up- curves, and the batsman made a welt at it and missed it by several inches. “Striker out!” : _ The next man up also had quite a reputation for hitting the ball. : : -— But Charlie caught him napping right away, “and a strike was called at the first ball pitched. - Then two balls followed, for the man seemed as though he was bound to wait for a good one. - Charlie gave him another, which was a good t was the quick incurve that had fooled his _ Charlie nodded when Ben Handy signaled for a drop, and he landed it right where it was _ The batsman swung his bat viciously and went way over it. : _ Handy was right there and held it as usual, _ “Three strikes, and out!” said the umpire. +The Unknown Nine received a cheer from a th ousand throats, and there was no one there _ who thought they were not entitled to it, unless tt might be some of the narrow-minded ones, who * do not believe in giving credit when it is due _ “Lige Miller at the bat!” call.1 out the man ho was keeping the score for the boys, as the mghamtons took their position in the field. _ Miller stepped up, and at the first ball pitched ~ eracked os a high fly, which was caught by the - eenterfielder. : aypolé came next and struck out, thus making two out - ~ Schmidt followed and made a safe hit. Hodge found the Binghamton pitcher quite easy i sent out a clean two-bagger. Schmidt did not try to score on it, however, x he knew better, since the ball was in the tfielder’s hands before he got to third, an as thrown there ih*the hopes of heading him

And he didn’t, either, for he cracked out a two- bagger at the first attempt, and Charlie trotted ome. ; 5 The Unknows had started at their run-getting with a vengeance. it. Three runs in, and none out! + Dan Haypole struck out. _ Then, -as »

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26 who was at second, as much as to say, “I’ll fetch you in, old fellow!” Two balls and a strike were called, and then a good one came and Harry made a long drive to rightfield. Miller came in, and on a wild throw Hodge got to third. : - Four runs. Reilly came up and got his base on balls. Then came Harrington, and at the first ball pitched Reilly got to second. Harrington got three balls and two strikes on him and then drove out a nice one that allowed Hodge to get in. Then Murray went out on .a/fly and Ben Handy fouled out, winding up the eighth with five runs to their credit. The game was about played now, for the Bing- hamton struck out in one, two three order and left the Unknown Nine winners to the tune of five to nothing. If ever there was a delighted man it was Fred Roberts. 2 When Charlie had changed his ball uniform for his every-day apparel he came out of the dressing- room just in time to meet Ben Spikes, who had just arrived in Binghamton. There was a worried look on the pale face.of - Spikes as he placed his hand on the boy’ der and whispered: “George Orris is here, Charlie, and I think he means ter try an’ kill yer!” s shoul- 5 CHAPTER XXII Bill Butts Reaches the End of His Rope Charlie Cooper was not surprised to hear Ben Spikes say that George Orris was on the grounds. He was satisfied that it was his father’s half- brother who had been trying to take his life, and that he was disguised as Neville. The star player of the Unknown Nine cast a Bis _ swift glance around in front of the dressing- ay room, but saw nothing suspicious. ‘Nearly all the boys were ready to leave the grounds now, and Fred Roberts and the ladies _ were coming up.with the two autos to take them to the hotel. : ; “We'll make room for you, Ben,” said Charlie. “Just get in and keep your eyes open for the man __. you spoke about.” ys _ “He was right among the crowd a couple of minutes afore I found you,” was the reply. “He is disguised as an old man, but he can’t fool me. There is somethin’ about George Orris that can’t be taken away, no matter how much he changes his clothes an’ puts on false whiskers an’ wigs. ’d know him every time.” ; - Spikes got into the auto, and then, before it started, Charlie leaned over and told Roberts about it. 2 4 The manager nodded. “Just have him *Sigean him out,” he said. will go very slow till we reach the gate.” - The chauffeur received his instructions, and the ~ being aboard by this time, they started d the “We She_gatsenee. £5--sngene 0nd = FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY left of the diamond for the big double oe - Pee x nae ak Just as they got to the gate Ben Spikes caught hold of Charlie’s arm and exclaimed: ‘2 “There he is!” 2 He pointed to an old man who was standing by the gate, leaning on a cane, talking to a a younger man with a full grown beard. x: “Why, those two men are stopping at our ho- tel,” said the young pitcher. “Mr. Roberts!” Roberts at once had the auto come to a stop, “That old man over there is George Orris, so Ben says,” the boy whispered excitedly. Roberts did not turn around and look directly at the man, for he did not want him to know that he was under suspicion. He got out of the auto and made out that some- thing was the matter with the machine. Then he walked right over to the man, and as quick as a flash seized him by the whiskers. Off they came! The face of George Orris was disclosed, sure enough. “Police!” shouted the manager, as he grappled) with the astonished scoundrel. * Charlie leaped from the auto, for he saw the. man with the disguised villain step back and slide — his hand toward his hip pocket. The boy was not an instant too soon. Of course the other man was no other than Bill Buits. . He jerked a revolver from his pocket, and it is — probable that he would have used it had not the ~ right fist of Charlie Cooper caught him under the jaw and sent him spinning. : The young pitcher was right after him, and a kick sent the revolver flying from his hand. ee i Then he fell upon him and forced him to the ground. : It so happened that there was a policeman | right handy, and he bounded forward and took ~ possession of Orris in a jiffy. ; : The boys of the Unknown Nine rushed to help Charlie, and Bill Butts was fairly trampled upon in the excitement. aS But in spite of this, he managed to wriggle away and get among the people who had roam to the scene. : Pulling off his wig and beard, he pushed his hat down over his eyes and got away. = This move was what saved him, for those who had witnessed the strange scene knew that the man who had pulled the revolver had a beard. Now Butts had none. = The villain was very much frightened. : Though he had been bruised and hit, no blood had been drawn, and that made it so he attracted his attention. pes. He was too much of an experienced rogue to run, and he walked right along with thé crowd, and the first car that came along he boarded its. One thing, if I am catched, I won’t be tried fur) No more tryin’ ter kill any one fur done with that_kind of business.” - : (To be continued)

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Ren en eee “ Se ne Be ee Sy = me 3 . a FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY 27 Se W SWEDISH ROYAL DENTIST ARRIVES SUF- os ; Fame and Fortune eekly FERING FROM A TOOTHACHE a ee ee eee ate Dr. J. N. Sandblom, dental surgeon to the King __ NEW YORK, JANUARY 28, 1927 of Sweden, arrived recently on the new motor- — Gripsholm, of the Swedish-American Line, suffering from toothache. He laughed about it when questioned and said: “T have had the toothache for five days, but it is a little better now. After I have taken Mrs. Sandblom to the hotel with our baggage I will go and see a dentist who is a friend of mine.” Asked what they royal family of Sweden were like when they sat in the dentist’s chair, Dr. Sandblom said: a4 “Royal patients are the best patients, in my ‘the lainly. experience, because they have more control. I have always found that women are more easy to WESTBURY PUBLISHING CO., Inc. treat than men, probably because the former are 168 W. 28rd St., N. Y¥. C. more accustomed to pain.” 1D KNIGHT, Pres. and Treas. e W. MAKE, Vice-Pres. and Sec. == LAUGHS ae INTERESTING ARTICLES _ “Jt seems strange,” said Deacon May-berry, as he counted the money after church, “that a large < THE AGE OF CONSENT congregation ‘can be so small.” Why is it that a parent must support a male ild until he is 21 years of age and a female “Tighnian-—Gimme we thre sigats. Shopmats d only to the 18th year? - Strong or mild? Irishman—Gimme me the strong ‘The law only provides that at the age of 18 Wans.°The weak wans break in me pocket! ars the woman may marry without the consent 5 ents or guardian. Each sex comes of age “Do you éall this a pint?” asked the sharp serv- ~ at 21 years, in so far as ability to vote and to ant girl of the milkman. “Yes.” “Well, it won’t do. “manage their own affairs is concerned. When we want condensed milk we’ll buy it at the , ; grocer’s.” ak —_—__—_—_ + 9 COUTS BEGIN WORLD TREE SEED “T reckon you didn’t think of your poor old dad : EXCHANGE; SEND WALNUTS AT all the while you were away.” “Yes, we did, dad. SP ROOSEVELT GRAVE TO BRITAIN When ma heard a man grumbling about his meals Fi ix black walnuts sent to the Boy Scouts of at the hotel she said: ‘That’s just like pa!’” land recently, through the Scientific Ameri- Se “marked the beginning of an interesting ex- . Ethel—Frank was desperately in love with Pris- - ge of tree seeds by the Boy Scouts of Amer- cilla. Why, he used to send her the most expensive “ica. Accompanying the walnuts, which were flowers and presents nearly every day for three ~ gathered after they had fallen from a tree over- years! Mabel—Did he finally win her? Ethel—No, ving the grave of Theodore Roosevelt in he earned her. ter Bay, L. I.,,was a letter signed by Dan d; “grand old man” of the Boy Scouts. “Tommy,” asked the teacher, “if you have six sticks of candy and divided with your little bro- 3 : Sy, pho pan will each of you poe 2” “Tl have ve and he’ ave one,” answered Tommy. “Too AT TELEGRAPH KEY, EXCELS uch candy always makes him sick.” x ON, A "OTHER VETERANS 0 ee ca Thomas A. Edison excelled recently in a speed “Ven Rosenstein failed he made me a preferred id accuracy contest in sending telegraph mes- creditor.” “Vat you mean?” “All der rest of his wes and received a gold telegraph penciong key creditors had to vait thirty days to find out dey — 9m the Lackawanna Railroad as a reward. vouldn’t get.a cent. I knew it immediately!” The test was held on board a special train tak- LES eke Edison Company officials and officials of the “Oh, yes,” said the pilot of the river steamboat. ackawanna Railroad’ from South Orange to “I have been oe boats up and down this river — Village, N. J., to inspect the Edison Portland so long that 1 know where every submerged rock | ment Plant there and the new siding develop- and stump is.” Just then the boat struck a rock ‘installed by the Lackawanna. The wires with a jar. “There; that’s one of them, now,” he » rigged between the cars, Se _concluded. cS M. Rine, secretary and Vice-President of the ; and P. J. Flynn in charge of traffic Hiram—tThat boy of yours what went to college __ could do some powerful lifting with the club and dumbbells. Silas—Yes; but I alwa Nae more of the other one’s lifting x Did he lift dumb and th Liles Se eet?

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The Colonel’; Daugl.‘er * The year 1857 was a memorable one in India, and not likely to be forgotten. .t was the year of the terrible mutiny wuich raged over half the country and threatened at one time to overthrow the English rule. ~ I was a young subaltern in the 19th Hussars, which I had joined the year previous. I was = longing for an opportunity to .show of what » metal I was made. Soidiers’ blood ran in my veins, for my family had for generations fur- nished good and true men to the American army. I was also in love, a by no means uncommon feeling in a young soldier. And, also, as fre- quently happens, there were great obstacles that seemed to be between me and the object of my affections. Edith Fitzpatrick, for that was her name, was a beautiful girl. Her face beamed with good nature, and her golden hair and lovely blue eyes made a conquest of me as soon as [ ; knew her. ; : It was on the P. & O. steamer Indus that we a had first met. I was journeying by steamer to 3 join my regiment and she having just finished SF ‘her education was going out to India to join her father. A steamer is admirably fitted for a flirtation, and we were both desperately in love = with each other; we both pledged eternal con- stancy, and Edith vowed that if she could not marry me she would never marry. Her father was the colonel of the regiment I was about to join, and would hardly approve of the marriage of his only daughter to a young and penniless officer, who had only his sword to depend upon for a living. -» We theréfore determined to keep our engage- ment secret, and trusted that somehow things would come out right. I joined my regiment and attended to the usual routine of a subaltern’s life. Endless drills and parades occupied my time, but no chance came to distinguish myself. In the spring of 1857 matters began to get serious in Bengal. Native agitators were spread- ing over the land, and were busy in trying to corrupt the soldiers. : . These were composed of Hindoos and Moham- ~ medans. The non-commissioned officers were na- tives, and the superior officers were Europeans. My business is not to tell how the mutiny orig- inated. This is a long story. I have simply to deal with facts-as they affect my fortunes. J had been sent to Chendaree, in Bengal, some distance from Cawnpore, on special work. I had to strengthen the Europeans who were in com- mand of the Tenth Bengal Cavalry. This regi- i -I saw Edith but seldom.. a # When we met, however, her looks and words s showed me plainly that she was still true to her aa z, ‘troth. == ment was supposed to be inclined to rebel, and* ‘special precautions were taken.. . One of the native sergeants, or Havildar, as he -was called, was Sewak Tewaree. He was a Hin- oo. ‘Tall and swarthy and _villainous-looking u the was rendered still more so by a fare # ge ee chi hich - s “FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY EEE the ringleader of the discontended spirits in the - ie os ai eee regiment, and it was determined, if chance offer- ea, to make an example of him. y But -he had more than *he usual amount of- Oriental cunning. i One day, however, he allowed himself of give way to his passion and committed a gross act of insubordination. : He was court-martialed. I was the principal — witness against him, and ne was ordered to be ~ flogged and dismissed from the regiment. The seutence was duly carried out, and no more was thought of it. I have dwelt on thi: incident, as. its sequel was fraught with the most momen- ~ tous consequences. " Some two months after is event I was in ~ charge of a small force of thirty men at an out- ~ post about fifty miles from Chendaree. Colonel Fitzpatrick had been to inspect o little garrison and had brought his daughter and her maid Mary with him. After staying three days he started for Chendaree wits his aide, and it was arranged that Edith and her maid should” _ travel home with three native attenants of proved — fidelity. She did not go with her father, as he was visiting various posts on the way, and.would, — be somewhat delayed. About two hours, therefore, after the colonel started, Edith bade me an affectionate farewell — and departed. I had charged the colonel’s old sergeant, Hussan Uskaree, to guard her faith- | fully, and he solemnly swore to do so. This somewhat relieved me, because, although rebel- — lion had ‘not actually broken out yet, it was necessary to take precautions. ‘= I sat in the bungalow with Harry Talbot, a_ fellow officer of my own age, smoking a cheroot. and thinking of Edith. sete He was teasing me about her, and I bore all his jokes with the utmost d temper because I knew he was true to me. ewe had been sitti there for perhaps two hours, when I was startled’ by the appearance of Hussau Uskaree at the door — of the bungalow. As he entered I rose from my, chair and regarded him with anxiety. a “Tell me,” I shouted, “in the name c* Heaven, . what has happened?” ae = ib,” he said, in hoarse accents, “the ng. £ "Te Ra) COACH My he Rn Ty eNOS BVT eet em ay lady has been taken from me. Oh, I am I am lost!” ~ It appeared that after the party had travel about five miles Edith and her maid were riding. ahead of the two soldiers, and Hussan was some; little distance in the rear. eo, a: When they were on the edg of a thick j ay = a body of men on horseback sprang out of the, bush and seized the two girls. The two natives soldiérs dashed forward to help them, and were instantly shot. = Hussan immediately stopped, as he knew he ~ could render no help, and turned his horse quicklys”” around. He saw the girls and a number of their captors disappear in the jungle, and he 7 put spurs to his horse and urged him along aby the utmost speed, for three of the villains <n were concerned in the crime came after him. knew what to expect if he was. captured, and aftd; er a-hard ride of two miles he managed to out- distance his pursuers, and luckily escaped shots they sent after him. The 7 fellow’s to meet. would have pa oe

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welcome to him. No sooner had he finished than -@ peon, or messenger, came running up breath- essly with dispatches from headquarters. The ‘contents were alarming. The ‘mutiny ‘had al- ‘Yeady commenced, and the most orrible atroci- eeyties had been committed by the rebels, especially | women and children. This added to my ago- ny, and I dreaded to think what fate was dn Store for the girl I loved. “Hussan,” I said, “have you no idea who the Villains were who have taken Miss Fitzpatrick? man!” es F “Sahib,” he replied, “I was some way off, and - could therefore with difficulty distinguish their » faces. One, however, I could almost swear to. It “was that old Havildar of the regiment,. Sawak -Tewaree.” ; _ My mind was soon made up, I determined at hazards to follow on the track of the ex- vildar and his gang and rescue Edith or per- in the attempt. f I decided to take Hussan, on whose fidelity I could rely, and whose knowledge of the country ould be valuable. : J also took ten of our native troops, on whose integrity and courage I could rely, and mounting eur horses, we started on our perilous journey. - At length night came, but we still rode on. Not for Jong, for the sharp eyes of Hussan detected, at a considerable distance away, a faint glimmer _ of light, which he pronounced to be a campfire. We immediately halted, and sént one of our party 2 ward to reconnoiter. He returned in a few nutes, saying he had been near enough to see © the camp consisted of. He saw a female ure, which he was almost certain was the col- iel’s daughter, and by the light of the fire rec- _ Ognized the old sergeant of the regiment. Our worst fears were realized, and we knew no mercy was to be expected. “He resolved to join the camp immediately. I ged dresses with one of the men, and some lor soon rendered my face and hands to an ap- jearance of that of a young Hindoo. Hussan put on a long robe and assumed as nearly as pos- sible the dress and manner of an India fakir. I ; d the men what we intended doing, and I cau- med them to be on the alert and in constant diness to fly if we managed to return with the irls. I had no fear of their proving remiss. en we got near the camp the noise of our yvements was heard by the sentry who turned and saw us in a moment. Immediately he pointed his rifle at us. Hussan fell on his imees and ce his hands and shouted a greeting in ‘Hindoostanee. This seemed to satisfy the man, Who bade us approach. He, however, never ased to cover us with his rifle. He made us h before him, and in this way we were ush- _€red into the presence of the H&vildar. ~>-“Great Lord,” said Hussan, “thy servant is a % poe fakir, bound for the holy city of Meerut. ‘This youth is a poor ballad singer whom I met with on the way. We crave, humbly, food and ” we had eaten some food, Sewak Tewaree . I moved over to where and Hussan sat near me. FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY - crossed 29 Before starting for the camp ~ had written a note telling Edith to be on her guard, that friends were in the camp and would endeavor to rescue them that night. This I managed to give her, unperceived by anyone. Sewak began to get drowsy and gave the sig- nal for retiring. Soon all the camp was in profound slumber except Hussan and myself and the two girls, who were in an agony of anticipation. The “sentry was also wide awake. He was posted outside the entrance to the girls’ tent. Hussan and I were lying at some distance from the Havildar’s followers and .ear the girls’ tent. Our object was to get an entrance to this tent in some way. We talked softly and soon decided that one plan only was feasible. I was to creep around to the back of the tent and cut a hole in it through which the girls could escape. Hus- san meanwhile was to look after the sentry. I crept along most carefully, scarcely rising from the ground and taking care to keep in the dark shadow. Soon I reached the tent, and draw- ing my knife I softly and cautiously made a long cut in it, sufficient to enable the inmates to get through. = The girls were on the alert, and in a minute Edith was in my arms. I told the girls to follow me, and to move with the least possible noise.. At this moment the sentry started as if he heard a noise, and moved toward the door of the tent. One look and the empty tent would have been seen, and all was lost. ussan had seen this danger, and at the instant the sentry turned his back he struck him. With scarcely a groan the sentry fell down dead. Hussan then S ase, through the tent, going out at the cut I lad made in the back. In a few moments he joined me and the captives, and we made for our men with all possible speed. Very. soon we reached our rendezvous. The men were all ready. I placed Edith in the sad- dle in front of me, and Hussan did the same with the maid. The poor girls were almost dead with fear and fatigue. We rode on until we came to a broad and rapid stream. é This effectually barred our path, and must be To our dismay, we saw Sewak’s party at a considerable distance in the rear, riding as hard as they could to overtake us. We put our horses at the water. It was the only chance of life. The ladies never flinched. The horses bat- tled bravely with the flood, but I thought it was all over with us. By superhuman efforts at length _ we reached the opposite bank in safety. Not too soon, for just at this moment Sewak and his band appeared at the opposite bank. Leaving four men to keep the river, we u our horses on.. They were nearly dead beat. Judge of our joy when we met a large party of our own regiment galloping toward us. Colo- nel Fitzpatrick was with them. In a moment Edith was sobbing on his neck. The old colonel had heard of her capture, and was on his way to endeavor to come up with the miscreants who had taken her. es “He overwhelmed me with thanks, and could say nothing when I told him of my love and asked him for her hand. After the mutiny was over I married Edith and later learned Sewak had taken a prisoner, :

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FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY a CURRENT NEWS FIRST BUFFALO NICKEL The first issue was in February, 1913. In May, ~ 1913, the die was changed in order to bring out the words “five cents” more plainly. There is no premium on the first nickels. 5 BEWARE OF POOR MINDS When you are driving, look out for the man with the poor mind rather than the one with the | poor eye-sight. ; cos? Dr. Harold D. Judd of Detroit has recently made a study of one hundred serious automobile casualties, in co-operation with the Detroit Police 2 Department, and has come to the conclusion that : poor minds rather than poor eyes are the cause of most of the accidents. “A man with only 50 per cent. visual icing and a 100 per cent. mentality,” Doctor Judd is quoted as saying, “would make a more careful driver than the man with perfect eyes and half mentality. Observa- tion has shown also that the man with perfect eyes and full intelligence is liable to be more careless than the man who knows his eyesight is bad, but who is mentally normal.” Out of the B one hundred cases studied, Doctor Judd found . » only five unquestionably due to defective eyesight. YA Oe) Be FRENCH POLICE USE WIRELESS TO TRANSMIT FINGERPRINTS The French police, always famed for the perfec- tion of their organization, are now using the radio to transmit pictures of fingerprints of “wanted rsons and criminals, as well as their general oer! tion. Belinograph transmitters have been installed in the Prefecture of Police, with which hotographs of fingerprints can be flashed to other Geach cities either over the telegraph wire or by radio in a few seconds. : P Speed is one of the most important factors in the battle against crime, and the Detective De- rtment is confident that the installation of the Relinograch will make the crook’s job considerably more hazardous. 3 f It is understood other countries are planning to _~ follow the French example. This should help the «police to catch international criminals who have = able to escape across frontiers by using rapid transportation before their descriptions could reach the frontier stations. Se: wee - _NEW RADIO DEVICE TO PREVENT NEW DPARIONS At SEA IN FOG Announcement of a new radio devise to re- duce the chances of collision between vessels at sea in storm or fog, was made recently by the _ Federal Telegraph Company of California, fol- wing tests along the Pacific Coast made by the nited States Lighthouse Service, the. Standard Company and the Federal Telegraph Com- dine: doch: nemselithe Koster: mobile a ee Sg aan rs pr st PF. A. es It is described as a low power automatic radio transmitter which sends out a characteristic. sigMal over a short distance. 2 _ It is installed in the pilot house and operates independently of the ship’s wireless apparatus, In foggy weather the device is turned on. The. radio signal it transmits is heard by any ship. — within ten miles, which by the use of the radio. compass, or direction finder, can determine the position of the approaching’ vessel. “ EDISON FORESEES NEW ERA OF DISAS- TER WITH AIR TRAFFIC _ The city of today has outgrown its usefulness, in the opinion of Thomas A. Edison, who, in an~ interview by Edward Marshall in the current is-_— sue of the Forum Magazine, visualizes the sciens_ tific city of the future. ee _ In this city of future, as foreseen by the noted> inventor, time saving will be of prime impor- tance, and traffic congestion will be solved by _ the mathematician, who will supplant the traffic. ’ policeman; crime will decrease before the ad- ; vent of the scientific policeman, and taxes wile becomé astonishingly low with government of- cities by experts. Ws Noise in the city of the future, however, in the, 3 opinion of Mr. Edison, will increase rather kill decrease, but the human being will become suf-, _ ficiently deafened by nature so that his nerves ; will be able to withstand the increased din, the, Associated Press reports. Es as Be Two methods of regulating traffic are ad-~ vanced by Mr. Edison, the one being creation of express and accommodation streets and the oth 4 the depressing of cross streets. But solution a the traffic problem, he holds, lies in the mathe- Ty matisian, with his labors augmented by the archi- __ } tect. gb Ee ~ g i4 ‘ ' The skyscraper, originally built as a time! saver, -Mr. Edison believes, must eventually be* restricted to prevent it from becoming a fi s loser, due to the huge masses of pi eo leaving? and entering the buildings at the same hour. . i The roofs of buildings, now generally unused, > ae will be converted into landing fields, Mr. Edi-, ee on says, especially with the prefection of the, 3 elicopter for vertical rising. This will et a on an era of new catastrophes, he foresees. But_ even this will not prevent the general use of air-” craft. « E Mr. ' The loss of acute hearing foreseen by Edison will be a benefit, rather than a handicap," to the city dweller, he believes. He points to his own almost total deafness and says it has given him steady nerves which even the greatest noise of the cities cannot. jar. oka Government of American cities by expert exes’ cutives, he points out, merely will follow the sys~! tem neteaiting in Germany for years, and k Lt erator’ that when American cities ta problem of their management in the same etn big business most of these.

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A MOTHER FROG An evoluting frog has confounded science by eloping a mother instinct, usually thought to reserved for the higher animals. In the hedge bank near Llandrinio, Wales, the frog, a female, is bringing up a family of robins, whose mother apparently had been killed. All Hay she is busy collecting worms and flies for her foster family, pausing only to croak angrily when ious visitors got too near. the nest. : OG “EXECUTED” AS COUNTY COURT ? DENIES phen ne Sport,” St. Boniface dog, who bit a woman who was pulling his mistress’ ‘hair during a fight, Was executed at dawn the other day at Winnipeg, ~The sentence of death was imposed on “Sport” at a trial two months ago, his counsel pleading % that the dog “bit to save.” Recently the sentence the city magistrate was confirmed by the nty al and “Sport” was chloroformed. ~--- AN UNUSUAL FAMILY Woodchucks and rats live in peaceful happiness nh a certain street in Bowdoinham, Maine. family of rats have a home under an old stone wall, coming out after crumbs thrown to the birds. 6 day recently, a young woodchuck leisurely ed the state ot taking his time between found the rat dining-room, and ate peace- through a course meal, in spite of the rats soon appeared. When next seen, there were woodchucks and as many rats, and so far S$ unusual family of diners has remained un- S SCIENTISTS PLAN USE OF RAYS . FROM THE STARS vo Swiss scientists, Doctor Kolvorster and r Deesalis, who have been living in a tent the past month on the summit of Monch Moun- at an altitude of 13,465 feet, making astro- nical observations, report a remarkable scien- discovery. é Mhey found that a certain group of stars send extraordinary rays of light, whose radioactive is far stronger than that of Rosniest rays. entists hope to capture and employ these mtific and medical purposes. the cold weather the astronomers obliged to cease further investigations this and descended at Interlaken. eae : PLED ITALIAN IN TINY BOAT BE- ba ‘ED LOST NEAR NEW YORK AFTER _ LONE TRIP FROM NAPLES other tra: of the high seas was recently ed Pocenen tee Sacpiee of the ill-fated e of Captain Terezio Fava, who is tiny oe: erished when only a few miles from his is attempt to reach New York from -Creco, near Naples, alone in an open . He rted from Torre del Greco ths ago in the FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY = TIMELY TOPICS - coast of Newfoundland. 31 foot cutter Stella Maris and was last seen ten weeks ago 200 miles from his journey’. end. : Captain Fava lost both ~his feet through freezing during the war. Despite this handicap, attracted by a prize of $50,000. offered ‘by a rich Italo-American, he set out alone in his little boat on March 8. Forty-five days later he was seen passing through the Straits of Gibraltar. He was again lost sight of- till July, when the steamer Assunta met him in mid-ocean: In August the steamer Providence saw him off the Ten weeks ago the steamer Duilio sighted him 200 miles from New ork. Since then he has not been seen. Captain Fava started with four months’ sup- plies and he has been gone eight and a half months. It is thought possible that he suc- cumbed to hunger and fatigue or perished in a -Storm off the American coast. The Government has taken an interest in Captain Fava’s case and has instructed its representatives abroad to make inquiries abroad to ascertain his fate. : IN THE HEAVENS The constellation Andromeda is of particular interest, since from. it showers of metéors appear at intervals. These meteors are associated with the mysterious Biela’s comet; which disappeared in the first half of the nineteenth century, and may have left behind this “star dust,” or group of meteors, which reappear at this time each year. Andromeda passes across the meridian, almost ~ directly overhead. It is a long, sprawling constel- lation. As an aid in locating it, first “find Mars, the brilliant red planet. Draw an imaginary line front Mars to the big, brilliant W-shaped con- stellation of Cassiopeia. Halfway along that line you will cut the eastern part of Andromeda, com- ing close to the easternmost star of this group, Almaak. _Almaak is in the left foot of the im- aginary Princess. To the southwest come three more bright stars. in a row, representing the girdle, the left breast and the left shouolder. Between the two middle stars of Andromeda and Cassiopeia shines a faint wisp of light, barely showing to the naked eye, but under the tele- scope one of the most wonderful sights in the heavens. It is the famous nebula of Andromeda, which some astronomers regard asa whole uni- verse still in the making. In ancient mythology, Andromeda was the daughter of Cepheus and Cassiopeia, King and Queen of Ethiopa. Cassiopeia offended Neptune by claiming that she was more beautiful than the sea nymphs. Neptune, angered, sent a sea’ monster to ravage the kingdom. In answer to the Ethiopians’ plea, Zeus intervened and said that the sea monster would be checked, but only on con- t dition that Andromeda be sacrificed to the beast: — The unhappy Princess was accordingly taken to the shore and chained to a rock to await the monster. Just as she was about to be devoured, — Perseus, son of Zeus, rescued her. Zeus, working a favorite trick of his, transported all the princi-- pals in the drama to the stars, where, acco . to legend, Andromeda may still be seen cl a : 3 ~ 2 (aa Yin nO me a ciel \, a Ahi +0 Bh

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~ r= + s s 5 — a ; . Re. x a E = : . | WESTBURY PUBLISHING Fame and Fortine Weekly — LATEST ISSUES — erm rny ies. For Money; or, The Boy Trader of Wall * 1069 The Unis Copper Miner: or, Ted Brown’s Rise to ches. 1070 Tips is the Tape; or, The Boy Who Startled Wall 1071 Striking It Rich; or, From Office Boy To Mer- . chant Prince * 14072 Lucky in_ Wall Street; or, The Boy Who Trimmed the Brokers. 1073 In a Class by Himself; or, The Plucky Boy Who Got to the Top. 4 _ 1074 Baling, the Marke; or, The Messenger Who Worked a Corner. 1075 After the Big Blue Stone; or, The Treasure of the ungle 1076 Little Jay Perkins, the Broker; or, Shearing the Wall Street “Lambs.” 1077 The Young Coal Baron; or, Five Years With The iners. . 1078 ages + bape or, The Boy Plunger of Wall Street. : 1079 Among the Tusk Hunters; or, The Boy Who Found a Diamond Mine. Slums to Wall Street. 1080 A Game Boy: or, From _the 1081 A = Legacy; or, How It Made a Poor Boy Ric : 1082 Fighting the Money Kings; or, The Little Specn- lator of Wall Street. i : 1083 A Boy With Grit; or, The Young Salesman Who Made His Mark. 1084 Ted, the Broker’s Son; or, Starting Out For Him- self. 1085 Dick Darrell’s Nerve; or, From Engine-House to Manager’s Office. 1086 Under A Lucky Star; or, The Boy Who Made a Million in Wall Street. 1087 —~ Fes: ar, The Strangest Legacy in the orld. : 1088 Taking Chances; or, Playing For Big Stakes. 1089 Lost In the Tropics; or, The Treasure of Turtle Key. 1090 Ten Silent Brokers; or, The Boy Who Broke the Wall Street Svndicate. 1091 Only a Factory Boy; or, Winning a Name For J Himself. 1092 Fox & Day. Brokers; or, The Young Money Makers of Wal! Street. 1093 The Little Wizard; or, The Success of a Young Invehtor. 1094 A Young Mechanic; or, Rising to Fame and For- 1096 In the Land of Gold: or, The Young Castaways of the Mystic Isle. 1097 Eastman & Co, Stocks and Bonds; or, The Twin Boy Brokers_of Wall Street. 1098 After the Golden Eagles; or, A Lucky Young Wall Street Broker. 1099 A Lucky Lad; or, The Boy Who Made a Railroad Pay. ‘ 1100 Too Good to Last; or, Six Months In the Wall os Street Money Market. 7101 Dick. The Poy Lawyer: or, Winning a Big Fee. 1102 Broker Dexter’s New Boy; or, A Young Innecent In Wall Street. : 1103 From Mill to Millions; or, The Poor Boy Who Be- r came a Steel Magnate. 1104 Three Game Speculators; or, The Wall Street Boys’ . Syndicate. 1105 A va of Luck; or, The Boy Who Made Money n_ Oil. 1106 Little Hal, The Boy Trader; or, Picking Lip Money in Wall Street. : 1107 On _ Gold Coast; or, The Treasure of the Strand- ; Pr. 1108 asso? ny fhe Market; or, A Boy’s Big Deal in Wall : ree . ‘1109 ringe <s Tom; or, The Boy Who Bought Every- ; ng. 1110 Favore? Tie Fortune; or, The Youngest Firm in 2 Wall Street. 1111 Jack Jasper’s Venture; or, A Canal Route to For- tune. 1112 After Big Money: or, Turning the Tables on the = x SS Wall Street Brokers. For sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any on stamps. CoO., Inc. Now York City 5 tune. 1095 Banker Barry’s Boy; or, Gathering the Dollars In Wall Street. ' . hand, together with a full explanation of their meaning. receipt of price, 8c, per copy, in money or OUR TEN-CENT HAND BOOKS — Useful, Instructive, and Amusing. They contain Valuable Information on Almost Every Subject. } 1 a No. 42, THE BOYS OF NEW YORK STUMP = SPEAKER.—Containing a varied assortment of stump ~ speeches, Negro, Dutch and Irish. Also end men’s jokes. — No. 44. HOW TO WRITE IN AN ALBUM.—A grand collection of Album Verses suitable for any time and | occasion: embracing Lines of Love, Affection, Sentiment, Humor. Respect, and Condolence; also Verses Suitable for Valentines and Weddings. No. 52. HOW TO PLAY CARDS.—A complete and handy little book, giving the rules and full. directions for plavine Fuehre, Cribbage. Casino, Forty-five. Rounce, Pedro Sancho, Draw Poker, Auction Pitch, All Fours, and many othér popular games of cards. No. 53. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS.—A wonderful little book, telling you how to write to your sweetheart, - your father, mother, sister. brother, employer; and in fact everyhody and, anvboedy you wish to write to. No. 55. HOW TO COLLECT STAMPS AND COINS.— | Containing valuable information regarding the collect- oA ing and arranging of stamps and coins. Handsomely illustrated. No. 57. HOW TO MAKE MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS, —Full directions how to make a Banjo, Violin, Zither, Aeolian Harp, Xylophone and other musical instru- ments; together with a brief description of nearly every musical instrument used in ancient or modern times.» + Profusely illustrated, ° No. 58. HOW TO BE A DETECTIVE.—By Old King Brady, the well-known detective. In which he lays down ~ some valnable rules for beginners, and also rela some - adventures of well-known detectives. No. 61. HOW TO BECOME A BOWLER.—A complete manual of bowling. Containing full instructions for playing all the standard American and German games; together with rules and systems in use by the principal , bowling clubs. No. 64. HOW TO MAKE ELECTRICAL MACHINES. —Containing full directions for making electrical ma- chines, induction coils. dynamos, and many novel toys to be worked by ‘electricity. By R. A. Bennett. ys illustrated. \ No. 67. HOW TO DO ELECTRICAL TRICKS.—Con- taining a large collection of instructive and_ highly amusing electrical tricks, together with illustrations. By A. Anderson. No. 69. How TO DO SLEIGHT-OF-HAND.—Contain< ine over fifty of the latest and best tricks used by ma< — gicians. Also containing the secret of second ‘sight. = Fully illustrated. . No. 72. HOW TO DO SIXTY TRICKS WITH CARDS. ~_ —Embracing all of the latest and most deceptive card — tricks with illustrations. inet No. 73. HOW TO DO TRICKS WITH NUMBERS.— © Showing many curious tricks with figures and the magie __ ie of numbers. By A.|Anderson. Fully illustrated. ee No, 74. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS CORRECTLY. Containing full instructions for writing letters on almost any subject; also rules for punctuation and composi- tion, with specimen letters. i, No. 1%. HOW TO TELL FORTUNES BY THE es ibe} m4 —Containing rules for telling fortunes by the aid’ of — lines of the hand. or the secret of palmistry. Also the +4 secret of telling future events by aid of moles, mars, — sears, éte, Illustrated. mat ie No. 77. HOW TO DO FORTY TRICKS WITH ees adic deceptive Card Tricks as pers formed by leading conjurers and magicians. = 4 pez No. 79. HOW TO BECOME AN NE a complete instructions hew to make up for various char- ~~ acters on the stage; together with the duties of the eo Manager, Prompter, Scenic Artist and Property — an. ce No. 80 GUS WILLIAMS’ JOKE BOOK.—Containing the latest jokes, anecdotes and funny stories of this % world-renowned German comedian. , . No. 82. HOW TO DO PALMISTRY.—Containing the 5 most approved methods of reading the lines on f! Also explaining phrenology-and the key for te character by the bumps on the head. By Leo Hugo Koch, A.C.S. Fully illustrated, fee For sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any address on receipt of price, 10c. per copy, : in money or stamps, by HARRY E. WOLFF, Publisher, Ine. 166 West 23d Street New York |

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