Fame And Fortune Weekly (no. 488) (1915 02 05)

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Ne#ss FEB.S@ISIS 5 (ents. FAME. FORTUNE STORIES WEERLY. WHO MAKE BOY =) MONEY. Suge To Get Rice The gaslight fell upon the ruifian and his shrinking victim. His purpose was apparent. All the chivalry of Graham’s nature rushed to the fore. Springing forward, he caught the descending fist and exclaimed, hotly: “You shall not strike that girl!”

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Fame and Fortune Weekly STORIES OF BOYS Issued Weekly—By Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered at the New York, N. Y., WHO MAKE MONEY Post Office as Second-Class Matter by Frank Tousey, Publisher, 168 West 23d Street, New York. No. 488. NEW YORK, FEBRUARY 5, 1915. Price 5 Cents. SURE TO GET RICH Spree. A SMART YOUNG MESSENGER CHAPTER I. FROM THE JAWS OF DEATH. Rattle! Rattle! Rattle! Ting-a-ling-ling! Ting-a-ling-ling! Toot! Toot! Too—oo—oo—oot! All of a sudden the hitherto tranquil air in the tmmediate neighborhood of Trinity Church begun to tingle with excite- ment. Pedestrians passing up and down that part of Broadway eame to a stop and edging toward the curb looked up the busy thoroughfare down which the hubbub seemed to be ap- proaching. : Office windows were hurriedly pushed up and scores of heads thrust out, all turned in the direction of the post- office. An electric car from the Battery came to a sudden stop, while a big American Express Co.’s wagon and half a dozen other vehicles drew in toward the curb under the shadows of the church, and people crossing New York's main busi- ness thoronghfare above Wall Street began to scatter right and left. A eouple of nimble-legged, barefooted newsboys dashed along the gutter, shouting: “Here comes de engine!” And they were right. Drawn by three powerful light gray animals, the driver on his eleyated seat leaning well forward with both hands outstretched holding the reins, the shining brass funnel belch- ing dun-colored smoke and a myriad of sparks, a big steamer By A SELF-MADE MAN But it was clearly impossible for him to stay the speed of those iron-shod horses ig the short space that intervened, or }turn out of the unfortunate man’s path enough, owing to the |harrowhess of the street, to avoid running him down. At that thrilling mement, when scores of spectators were {gazing, horror-struck, from the sidewalks and the windows of the office buildings, yet not a hand was raised to save the bewildered man, whose fate seemed to be certain, a stalwart, neatly dressed boy dashed from the doorway of one of the buildings, sprang into the street, and grasping the seafaring man by the arms, literally tore him from under the horses’ | heads and the swinging pole, both rescuer and rescued piteh- ing head forward in a heap in the gutter as the fire engine went dashing by. : It was a daring and successful feat. Then as the hose carriage passed by, with a clatter and | jingle, the crowd on the further side joined those who had . already surrounded the brave boy and the man he had sayed from death. As the two picked themselves up a dozen hands were ex- tended to recover their hats and to brysh the dust from their clothes. “By George!” exclaimed one man, “that was the most re- markable and heroie act I ever saw, and I’ve seen a few in my time.” “I should say it was!” answered a gentleman at his elbow. “The boy deserves a medal.” “He certainly does,” spoke up a third, enthusiastically, handing the seafaring man his satchel, which he had picked up. “I hope you’re not hurt, my lad?” asked a big broker, in - of the Metropolitan Fire Department came charging down/a shiny silk hat and up-to-date business suit. the street like a whirlwind, with its hose carriage following at breakneck speed a short distance behind. “I'm all right,” replied the boy, wiping the dust from his | face, which impressed the crowd with its frank, open ex- Guiding his horses skilfully to the right, the driver turned| pression and evident manliness. in at Wall Street with a rattle and a roar, just as a thick- set man of perhaps sixty years, whose calling was shown by/| seen you before, haven't I? his weather-beaten countenance and his dress—a cap and a losely buttoned peajacket—started to cross the narrow thor- ' oughfare. x3 A dozen people saw his danger and yelled a warning. “I think I’ve You’re employed in the Street?” “Well, you're a wonder,” said the broker. “Yes, sir.” 4 “Why, of course. I recognize you now. You’re Sidney |Grabam. Page & Bacon’s messenger.” “Thats right,” admitted the boy. “And you're Broker The seafaring man looked up in a’startled way, and then!| George Brown.” as !f dazed by conditions to which he was not accustomed, or “I see you know me. You're just the boy such a thing partly intoxicated, he dropped the satchel he was carrying,| might be expected of.” . + steps forward, and then stood still in the path of the horses! the circumstances.” and engine bearding down upon him. _ = an) > es ee ay some money he had in his hand, took a couple of awkward The driver saw_ him at once, and pushing hard down on ‘the Drake at his feet, swerved his animals as much as pos- sible toward the far curb. : > “Thank you, Mr. Brown. I did the best I could under The seafaring man now took a hand in the proceedings, He grasped the ‘boy by both of uis hands and wrung them with an iron grip, while tears of gratitude stood in his clear, blue eyes. a

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~ ing. 2 SURE TO GET RICH. re ate =ekew«<—xV=_—“"e—"008—8€0€_—0N0N0N0N0N0NNeeeeeeeeeee ee “I owe my life to you, my lad. press my feelings on the away from this crowd.” With ‘some difficulty they managed to make their way out of. the curious throng, which, by this time, had grown so large as to block the street. : A policeman, with his notebook, then teok them in hand, hnd while both were answering questions they were again burrounded by a denser mob than before. “Officer, get us out of this, will you?” asked the rescued man when the policeman returned the notebook to his pocket. “Stand back there,” commanded the member of the “finest,” geahing the bystanders out of the way to make a lane for he two to pass through. A gradually diminishing crowd followed them as far as Broad street. “You are sure you’re not injured, sir?” asked Sid, with some anxiety, as his companion wiped the trickling blood from a slight cut over his right eye with his handkerchief. The boy saw that his rough, mahogany-hued hand shook, nd that his strong limbs trembled from the reaction which ollowed upon his terrible experience. “I don’t think so, my brave lad, though I’ve had quite a shaking up. You must be a strong boy to be able to yank me about the way you did. I weigh one hundred and eighty pounds in my underclothes. I owe you a debt of gratitude I never can reply,” he said, with much feeling. - “Don’t allow that to worry you,” said Sid, cheerfully. “But it will worry me. Come down this way,” he said, drawing the boy into Broad street. “I can’t bear to be made fan object of curiosity. Let us go in here a moment. I must - have a drink to steady me up,” and he led his young com- panion into a eafe. “I don’t suppose you indulge in liquor?” interrogatingly. “No, sir,” answered Sid. “That's right,” replied the seafarer, approvingly. “Avoid it. It is a bad practice, especially for one of your years.” “That is my Idea, sir. I promised my mother that I would never drink intoxicating liquor, and I mean to ketp my word.” “You're a fire lad,” said the stranger, earnestly, looking the boy over from head to foot. “And you have shown that you possess real American pluck. Now, tell me your name,” he added,.as they took seats at a small round table of polished" wood, and he gave his order to a white-jacketed waiter. “Sidney Graham.” 3 “I'm Ed’ard Gale, master of the ship Fleetwing, just ar- rived from Bombay, by the way of Cape Good Hope. My vessel is*‘anchored in the lower bay. We passed quarantine this morning. This is the first time I’ve been ashore in “something Ike three months, and the first time I’ve set foot in America for eight years.” _ There was an unmistakable twang in the captain’s voice which showed that he was, beyond a doubt, a real down- easter. “I don’t wonder, then, that you were a bit rattled by that fire engine,” said Graham. politely. “I’m not used to getting in their way, that’s a fact,” said the captain, with a faint smile. “I had no idea that one was so close upon me, and I was taken by surprise. People shouted at me from both sides of the way, and I got so mixed up that I didn’t know which way to turn.” “Well, you had a narrow escape, Captain Gale,” sald Sid, smiling. as __ “Y realize that I had, and it is entirely due to your prompt- ness 2nd courage. My dear boy, you don’t know how grateful T am to you,” and the ca shook the lad’s hand once more in a way that left no doubt as to his sincerity. “I guess you'll have to excuse me now,” said Graham, ris- “TI must get back to my office.” “Wait a moment. I can’t let you go this way. I don’t want to lose sight of you. Where do you live?” “Shall I write my address down for you?” “YT wish you would. I want to meet your folks and tell them how much I appreciate the service you have done me.” “My mother and sisters will be glad to make your ac- uaintance, Captain Gale; but I hope you'll go easy with ane centacndations on what I have done for you, or they may fear this hat of mine won't fit my head any more.” (m afraid I don't quite catch your meaning, my lad,” said ptain, with a puzzled look. a -gtinned and explained to him what ts meant by a case head. ; ; | don’t look Uke that Kind of bay,” replied the ship- ye Sate I can’t find words to ex-| master, in a breezy manner, having now entirely recovered subject. Come with me—let us get; from the shock he had sustained. : Graham wrote his name and address on the back of a card and handed it to the captain, who took out a well-worn red leather pocketbok, filled with papers and banknotes, and care- fully déposited it in one of the pockets. —_—— CHAPTDR It. THE OAPTAIN’S LITTLE GIRL. “Do you know, my lad, I’ve taken a liking to you,” said Captain Gale, earnestly. “You’ye got an honest, straight- forward way about you that takes my fancy. I’ve seen a lot of deception in this world,” with something like a sigh, “and when a young chap with such qualities as you possess comes athwart my hawse I feel like cottoning right to him. I’m alone in the world; that is, except my little girl, and, will you believe me, I haven’t seen her in over eight years. Think of that! Why, I’m just wild to meet and take her into my arms again,” and the speaker’s voice shook with emotion, and his gray eyes grew moist. “Hight years is a long time, sir,” admitted Sid, in a sym- pathetic tone; “but, of course, you’ve heard from her many times—whenever you arrived in a port.” The captain shook his head in a mournful kind of way. “No,” he said, with a wistful expression on his mahogany- hued face, “how could I when I was cast away for six years on an uninhabited island in the Indian Ocean?” “Good gracious!” exclaimed Sid, astonished. “Cast away on an island six whole years! And you were alone all that time?” The captain nodded solemnly. “I was rescued five months ago and taken to Bombay. The consignees for the New York shipping firm of Joy & Tarbell, in whose employ I had been for years before I lost my ship in the simoon in the Indian Ocean, received me as one back from the dead, for I was supposed to have gone down with the ship. The Fleetwing, a vessel I had commanded for several years, was in Bombay, discharging at the time, and singular to say her captain had just died. The consignees eabled the owners about me and asked for instructions. The reply put me once more in charge of my former vessel, and in due time I sailed for this port.” “Some time I should like to hear of your experience on that island, Captain Gale,” said Graham, eagerly, for he had read the wonderful, adventures of Robinson Crusoe, at an early age, and the book had left a vivid !mpression on his mind. “And so you shall, my lad. I dare say you'd like to know my little girl, too.” “Yes, sir. If you haven’t seen her for eight years she must be auite a big girl by this time.” “That's right,” replied the captain, slowly, as if the idea that his daughter was anything else than the little girl he had left behind him when he last sailed from New York York had just occurred to him. “So she is, She was seven years old the last time I saw her. Why, she must be fifteen now!” he ejaculated, in a sort of childish wonder. “Wifteen!” he repeated. “Quite a young lady almost. But she'll know her father—oh, yes, I’m sure she’ll know me,” with a wistful eagerness, “though she must have thought me dead until she received the letter I wrote her from Bombay.” As the sea captain was speaking, it occurred to Sid Gra- ham that. eight years being quite a stretch of time, it was possible the little girl in question might have died during the interval her father had been away-—a contingency Captain Gale did not seem to figure on. “And—and—your wife?” pursued the boy, hesitating. “You do not mention her. Is she dead?” gah 4 Poe It was impossible to describe the sorrowful pathos with which that one word was spoken. . “She died shortly after I left this port on the ill-fated Wanderer. I received the news at Melbourne from her half- brother, Samuel Sharpley, a lawyer of Jersey City, who wrote me he had taken charge of my Jessie, and would be ‘a father to her until I returned.” “Did you say Samuel Sharpley, a lawyer?” asked Sid, curiously. Sie ns - There was a reason for the question. A - ‘What morning be had head an account in the morning paper

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of a- New Jersey lawyer—a pettifogger he was described— named Samuel Sharpley, who had been arrested on the charge of swindling a sailor. The lawyer’s record, as investigated by the reporter, was extremely shady. It was found ‘that, in Saeicetins with a man named Cutcliff, he ran a low gin-mill and sailors’ boarding-house, called the “Seaman’s Rest,” on the Jersey City water front, where it was believed unsuspecting seamen were often drugged and shanghaied, though no evidence.establishing that fact was brought against Sharpley or his partner. Sharpley managed to have the charge against him dis- missed, owing to lack of evidence sufficient to hold him. “Yes.” replied Captan Gale, in answer to the boy’s question. “Is—is he a lawyer of some prominence?” “Well, I can’t say that he is, or was when I last saw him,” replied the captain, with scme hesitation. “I never had much confidence in him, to tell the truth, but my wife, his half- sister, sympathized with him, for he always had a tale of hard luck when he came to see her, and she helped him one way or another, and defended him whenever I pulled him over the coals. He is not exactly the kind of person I should have left in charge of my Jessie if I could have arranged matters otherwise. But I was thousands of miles away, in Australia at the time, and as I expected to return to New York in six or seyen months, I let things stand, believing that for his dead half-sister’s sake Mr. Sharpley would do the best he could for her child. To make this all the more certain, I sent him a power of attorney to draw the interest on some bonds, and the dividends on some stock I bad in- vested my savings in prior to starting for Australie.” “TI hope you will find that he has been faithful.to his trust, Captain Gale,” said Sid. “You have his address, of course?” “Well,” replied the captain, a bit doubtfully, “I know where he lived eight years ago. It is possible he has moved during | °Pe! that time.” “Tf be is still living in eiaby City you will probably be able to trace him through the city directory.” “I did not think of that.” auswered the captain. “I expected to ‘get his address from the Wall Street firm in whose care I left*my bonds and stock. He would naturally call there _ at stated times to receive the interest and other money which his power of attorney would entitle him to.” “That’s right,” said Sid. “What is the name of this firm? I am employed in Wall Street as a messenger for Page & Bacon, bankers and brokers, and——” “Who did you say?” asked Captain Gale, grasping the boy by the arm. “Page & Bacon, No. — Wall Street.” “Why, those are the people who have my stock and bonds.” : “Is that so?” exclaimed Sid, in surprise. “Seems able, doesn’t it, that I, their messenger, should be the one to pull you out of a bad fix right here in Wall Street. I suppose ur were on your way to call upon them.” “That's right, my lad,” admitted Captain Gale, cheerily. “It's a regular coincidence, isn’t it? So you are employed - by them? Very respectable firm, I believe.” “Yes, sir.” “Well, if you're bound that way, I'll go right along with ou.” : z “I am, captain, and will be glad of your company. The _ Office is only a block anges fag tet said the boy, rising, - jnag re ale got up, to pe oy Werhgiea. you with my talk,” he sald, ; his hard and horny hand on Graham’s shoulder. I hope tae? will excuse me. If you were a man and a father, you'd lerstand my feelings.” “Don’t mention it, Captain Gale. There’s no a done. iets gee driving me to death just now.” cae PE ale Md .Fleetwing hauls into dock somewhere along to discharge, you’ll come down and see me and ion iy Jessie. I shall live aboard, and my little girl will be with er: said Captain, Gre. as ees crossed Broad ‘street | Tagen <"Bes be glad to do 90, ca captain.” “That's right. Jessie will be phond and happy to know we especially after I haye told her how you saved my life,” she captain laid his hand i ainess: -affectionately. on the “Then, when 5 que: Poceee again, you won’t forget Lea will. you, to keep her after her ‘thing, cap Tn pei Sr ey her. to.amy. mother ae os ‘make things pleasant. for ‘hen ibe SURE TO GET RICH. SDaat a ee ee Se ete enn ne ey mee oy 5 oud cn ag aeoag “Of course they will.” said Captain: Gale, cheerfully. “I never thought of that.” “Here we are,” said Sid. up, to the rear.” - Whereupon Graham piloted the seafaring man to the office where he was employed. “Page & Bacon are one. flight —— CHAPTER III. URIAH PAGE AND EBENEZER BACON. The offices of Page & Bacon, bankers and brokers, were located on the second floor of No. — Wall Street. The firm was an old one and well known in the finaneial district, but, notwithstanding that fact, very few reputable brokers or solid speculators ever had regular dealings with Page & Bacon. At least, not of recent. years. They did an extensive business in time and call leans. They also had a very sharp pair of shears in constant waiting for venturesome lambs, when those blythesome ani- mals invaded the Street after easy money. The firm advertised steadily in the best financial papers and magazines, and thereby attracted a considerable list of out-of-town customers, who, however, never got rich through transactions engineered for them by Page & Bacon. * Mr. Page; a thin, wizened, sharp-eyed man of eighty years, a deacon in one of the uptown Presbyterian churches, and chairman of the Board of Foreign Missions, was always an early ,bird ‘at the office. A few minutes before the thrilling event narrated in our opening chapter occurred, Mr. Bacon, stout. red-faced and pockmarked, entered the private office and found the senior partner as usual seated at his desk. - The hour was ten in the morning, and business was begin- ning to get into full swing {n New York's financial district. “Ebenezer.” It was Mr. Page who spoke. “Well, Uriah?” said°the junior member of the firm, who was all of fifty years, in a gruff tone habitual with ‘him. “There's a letter in the morning mail that’s going to ti you a shock.” “What do you mean?” “It’s from a@ man we supposed to be dead—lost at sea— years ago.” “You don’t mean——” began Mr. Bacon, and then he paused, with something like a gasp. “Yes, I do, Ebenezer. I mean Captain Edward. Gale, of the Wanderer.” “And you say you received a letter from him—this morn- ing?” incredulously. ¥ “Yes, Ebenezer.” “Let me see it,” Mr. Bacon said, abruptly. : Mr. Page took.a-letter with a foreign stamp on ‘it teiae a pigeon-hole and. passed it to his partner. “The letter, you may observe, is postmarked Bombay and ~ London, and seems to have been unaccountably delayed in transit, for it is dated July 1st, and this is——” : “November,” said Mr. Bacon, as he pulled out the enclosure, we with fingers that trembled not a little, which was somewhat strange for a man of the junior partner's temperament, - ; “Exactly,” pursued Mr. Page. “Most of {t refers to his daughter Jessic, with whom we. really have nothing to do. — He "6 distressingly anxious about her, which, of course, is most natural. as he has not seen her.these eight years past.” hed “He says the Wanderer was lost in a simoon in the Indian _ Ocean, and that he alone appears to have suryived-the ~ disaster,” interrupted Mr. Bacon, as he perused the letter. “He passed six years on an uncharted island, and was finally taken off by a bark which put In there for water. It almost surpasses belief, Uriah. This man who has been supposed to be dead now turns out to be very much aliye. His return to this city,.on the Fleetwing, to which he says he has been appointed, promises grave complicatiors.” ax “Tt does, indeed, Ebenezer, ” said Mr. Page, slowly bing his bony hands one over the other. “Eight years. Captain Gale deposited with us.certain securities——” _ . “Exactly.. One hundred Alpha & Omega first bonds, whieh we ect for him at 90, and are wo watering proces 2f the. company’s” Spice: we we got fox S

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SURE TO GET RICH. ‘ : = wes him at 40, and is quoted this morning at 125—the interest and dividends on which we have regularly collected and——” “Paid over to Mr. Samuel Sharpley, who holds a power of attorney from the captain,” interjected the senior partner. “Precisely. “I am afraid we shall, Ebenezer,” replied Mr. Page, in a resigned tone. “Let us lose no time in considering what we shall do.” The two partners put their heads together and began a And which we presume Mr. Sharpley has ex-|very serious talk. pended on the support and education of the captain’s daugh- While thus engaged there came a- knock on the door. ter,” continued Mr. Bacon, with a peculiar smile. .“We are not responsible for what Mr. Sharpley has done with the money,” said Mr. Page, drily. “Hum! of course not. I merely made the remark, for, un- der the circumstances, the amount of money we have been obliged to pay him would be quite a temptation to some - Inen,” and the speaker looked hard at his partner. “You seem to be uncommonly facetious this morning, Ebe- nezer. We are alone, and I see no reason why you should not call a spade a spade. Mr. Sharpley is a pettifogging, ras- cally lawyer. I see by this morning’s paper that he’s up to his old tricks again. He was haled to court yesterday on the complaint of one of his victims, but managed, as usual, - to squeeze himself out through some legal knot-hole. I re- peat, Ebenezer, Mr. Sharpley is a thorough scoundrel, and it was owing to his shady reputation that we succeeded in pre- venting him from becoming the legal guardian of Jessie Gale.” “But in order to keep our grip on the captain’s holdings in Alpha & Omega, which increased enormously in value soon after his supposed death, we have been obliged, to a certain extent, to stand in with Mr. Sharpley—that is, we have to pay him a considerable sum as hush-money.” “A most unsatisfactory arrangement for us, but which we were compelled to accede to, as we had hy- pothecated the bonds and stock in question in order to meet our obligations after the squeeze we got in D. &.G.” “You state the matter correctly, Uriah,” said Mr. Bacon. “We used the securities without authority in order to save our financial standing, and because we felt quite safe in doing So, as we regarded the captain as good as dead after the marine insurance on the Wanderer and her cargo had been paid to the owners. We felt we could afford to stop Mr. Sharpley’s exactions by a stiff bribe, though by so doing we have become particeps criminis—that is, accomplices—in a scheme to defraud the captain’s daughter. Having won Mr. ' Sharpley over, we had come to look upon the bulk of the Alpha & Omega securities as part of our business capital.” “Very true, Ebenezer. Therefore, you can imagine what a shock that letter gave me when I opened it and ® “That Captain Gale had most unexpectedly and, shall I Say, unwelcomely, come back to life. This means that we shall presently be called upon to make good to our client AS the full value of his holdings in Alpha & Omega. It will . never do, Mr. Page!” exclaimed the junior partner, pounding the top of the desk violently. “But if he should insist on having an accounting, Ebenezer, ' what then?” asked the sleek, elderly broker of his big partner. “We should be ruined, Uriah. Captain Gale holds our ‘. receipt for securities worth $136,000 which only cost him ; $29,000 eight years ago. We have borrowed $60,000 on the _ steck and $7.000 on the bonds.” “We could not raise half that amount at this moment, g Ebenezer.” “We could not, Uriah. persuade him to wait.” -*Hum! But suppose he won’t be reasonable? Suppose he kicks up a muss, Ebenezer? You know what these seafaring _ Deople are when they get an idea in their heads. It’s hard 40 move them. Suppose he insists on having his stock and - bonds back, and won't go away without them. What then?” Sieci[¢ argument fails we will hand the captain over. to the lawyer. Frem what I know of Mr. Sharpley, I judge he is amply able to cope with the situation,” said Mr. Bacon, bluntly. “By the way, Uriah, have you looked at the marine intelligence in this morning’s Herald?” Mr. Page shook his head. “You might take a look,” he suggested, aaiediig to the r which lay on the top of his desk. . Bacon unfolded the paper and cenagins over the sheets he came to the page. + “Hum! ‘Arrivals. Hum! hum! By the Jehosha- hat, the man is here!” he exclaimed, ‘in some excitement. Listen: ‘Ship Fleetwing; Gale Cape Town, arrived at or grote! last | “We shall see him RE: Pr Therefore, as I remarked, we must Ebenezer? “Come in,” said Mr. Bacon, brusguely. Sid Graham opened the door and stuck his head into the room. “A gentleman to see the firm,” he said. “Name and business, please?” replied Mr. Bacon, sharply. “Captain Edward Gale, sir, of the ship Fleetwing.” CHAPTER. IV. SID AND EDNA. Mr. Bacon came out into the reception-room and welcomed his seafaring visitor most effusively. “Come right into our private room, Captain Gale,” he said, pulling the captain with him. “Mr. Page is,inside. We re- ceived your letter from Bombay only this morning. Never so surprised in my——” Bang! went the door, and Sid heard no more. “Mr. Bacon seems to be highly delighted to see the cap- tain,” grinned the boy. Thus speaking, Sid sought the corner where Edna Jackson Was operating a typewriter. Edna was a pretty brown-eyed girl, and Sid thought that, next to his sisters, she was the nicest girl he knew. She knew Sid’s mother and sisters, and when they said he was the finest son and brother in the world, she agreed with them. She happened to see Graham come in with Captain Gale, and she wondered who the old weatherbeaten gentleman was. So when the lad glided up alongside of her table she, with womanly curiosity, began to question him about the captain. “That’s Captain Gale, of the ship Fleetwing,” he me beamingly. “And who is Captain Gale, of the ship Fleetwing?” “He’s a client of ours.” “Indeed! I never saw him before.” “JT don’t wonder at that. You must have been a little in short dresses when he was here before.” “Is that so?” she replied, tossing her shapely head. what were you, then?” “I guess I was a young gentleman in knickerbockers.” “A little boy in knickerbockers, you mean,” she said, with a mischievous smile. “Come now, tell me all about the captain.” “Tt was this way,” began Sid, and then he narrated the manner in which he had rescued the captain from being run down by the fire egine. “Dear me,” she said, with a little shudder, a very narrow escape.” “I’m not saying we didn’t.” “You seem to have been the only one thre who tried to do it.” : “All right; we'll let it go at that. The captain told me he has a daughter he hasn’t seen in eight years. He's going to introduce me to her.” , “How old is she?” asked the stenographer, curiously. “Fifteen, I believe.” “I suppose you'll keep awake nights till you see her. Is she pretty?” “How can I tell that?” laughed Sid. now, are you?” “Jealous! ‘The idea!” : “Tf she’s prettier than you she must be a peach,” grinned the boy. , “You know you don’t mean that,” said Edna, with a pleased smile. “J always mean what I say. By the way, I sold my C. & D. stock this morning at an advance of 10 points.” “Did you, really? How nice! How many shares dia you have?” “Just 100. I bought ft at 45, and it took all my dough to put up the margin. I expect to get my check: to-morrow for $1,475, which gives me a profit of $975. Not so bad for a flier. Of course I'm going to stand treat, as I promised, so get your bat and jacket and I'll blow you off to a tiptop aly <4 “And “you both had “You dren’t jealous “Is this to be a Delmonico_ spread?” she asked, Bs as she rose frum her chair. — ,

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_ money. afraid F eo ae “Yon don’t hope it any SURE TO GET RICH. ‘ . 5 = — ee OS “Oh, say, what do you want, anyway?” “Where are you going to take me?” “There’s a nice restaurant on Beaver street. there.” “Very well. Just wait till I get my things.” As Sid returned to the reception-room and started to put on his hat and overcoat, a bright-looking young man came into the office. “I'd like to see Sidney Graham,” he said. “That’s my name,” replied Sid. “What can I do for you?” “There’s my card,” said the visitor. “You’re a reporter, eh?” “Yes. I want your story of the——” “Oh, I see what you're after,” interrupted Graham. “But really I haven’t time to talk to you now. Just going out to lunch with our stenographer. Besides, I don’t care to be made a hero of in the papers. I only did what any fellow would or ought to have done under the circumstances. You'd better interview Captain Gale. He’s engaged with the firm at present, but if you wait I’ve no doubt he'll tell you all you want to know.” ‘ “Thanks, but I’d like you to tell me what you did in your own way, too. ‘ “TI tell you I didn’t do anything remarkable. I saw the captain standing in a dazed kind of way in the middle of the street. The fire engine was bearing right down on him and I saw that unless something was done for him mighty quick he would certainly be run over. So I just jumped into the street, grabbed him under the arms and yanked him out of danger. That’s the whole thing. I couldn’t tell you any more if I talked with you for a week. Come, Edna.” Sid and Miss Jackson walked out of the office. leaving the reporter to secure an interview with Captain Gale as best he could. It was a whole hour before they got back. They passed Page and Bacon, with Captain Gale between <a on the street, bound, apparently, for Delmonico’s for ‘unch. “I don’t know just why, Edna, but I have taken a great lik- We'll go ing to Captain Gaile, He’s such a bluff, honest, unsuspicious old man, that it’s a pleasure to talk to him. You should have heard him talk about his little girl, as he calls her, though she must be quite a big girl now. As his wife is dead she’s the only thing he’s got to love in the world.” “What is her name?” asked Edna, in an interested tone. “Jessie.” “And you say they haven’t seen each other for. eight years?” “That’s what he said.” ; “Dear me, that’s a long time for him to be away, isn’t it?’ “Well, it wasn’t his fault. You see he was wrecked on an - island in the Indian Ocean, where he stayed six whole years before he was taken off. “Is it possible!” she exclaimed, quite astonished. “Just like Robinson Crusoe. Did you ever read that story?’ Edna shook her head. “Well you ought to read it. I think it would interest you.” . “And Captain Gale’s daughter—where was she all this time?” “Living with a relative of the captain’s wife—a lawyer named Samuel Sharpley—in Jersey City. Now, Edna, I don’t feel quite easy in my mind about that man Sharpley.” “Why, what do you mean?’ she asked, opening her eyes in surprise. “ll tell you. I'm afraid he’s a rascal.” Then he went on to tell her about the article he had read in that morning’s paper about the pettifogger named Samuel Sharpley, of Jersey City, who had been arrested for swin- dling a sailor, and whose reputation was so shady. “Why should you think the two are the same man?” asked Edna, curiously. “The similarity of the names, for one thing; then the im- pression I have formed.of Mr. Sharpley’s character from Captain Gale’s description of the man, and lastly the news- paper description of the pettifogger Sharpley coincides, as I now remember, with the general appearance of a man who called here to see Mr. Bacon in July, and who sent in his name as Sharpley. BHvidently he called to collect the cap- tain’s interest on his bonds, for Captain Gale told me he sent this person a power of attorney entitling nim to receive the If these two Sharpleys are really identical, I’m Jessie Gale has been in bad company these eight r, L hope not!” said Edna, earnestt,. iny more than I, for I am sure if my “based on facts it will drive Captain Gale wild ’ - when he makes the discovery, as, in that case, he is bound to do. He is wrapped right up in that girl.” “It would be very sad if such proved to be the case,” said Edna, sympathetically. “You can just gamble on it it would.” It was time Edna got to work again, and so Sid returned to his customary post in the reception-room. In the course of aun hour Mr. Page returned with Captain Gale. They had hardly entered the private office before Sid was summoned to the room. “Sidney,” said Mr. Page, “Captain Gale has told me of the great service you rendered him this morning on Wall, near Broadway. I must commend you for the nerve you dis- played in his behalf. The captain has already thanked you as far as words can express his appreciation of your con- duct. But he desires to offer you a more substantial evidence of his gratitude, and I think you deserve it. He authorizes me to turn over to you ten of his first mortgage 5 per cent. Alpha & Omega bonds, whose market value to-day is $110, or, if you prefer, thelr equivalent in cash.” “Why, that would amount to $1,100; sir,” exclaimed Sid, in surprise. The broker nodded. “But, sir, it would seem like taking pay for a service that I was very happy to render Captain Gale for nothing.” “My dear lad,” put in the master-of the Fleetwing, “I couldn’t possibly pay you for saving my life. That is some- thing beyond price. I am simply giving you this as a slight testimonial or remembrance of the occasion. I should feel much hurt if you refused to accept the gift. which I can very easily afford, since I find that the securities I left in the custody of Page & Bacon eight years ago have very largely increased in value.” “Very well, captain; since you insist I will accept the bonds, and I thank you very much for your valuable gift.” “You are welcome, my lad. Now I will ask a fayor of you.” “I'll be glad to oblige you any way I can,” replied the boy, cheerfully. “I knew you would. Mr. Page has given me Mr. Sharp- ley’s address, and I am going over to see my little girl. As I am not familiar with Jersey City, and I believe you are to some extent, Mr. Page says you may go over with me and show me the way.” “I am quite ready to do so,” answered Sid, pleased to render the old skipper an additional kindness. “IT will be ready in less than ‘half an hour,” said the cap- tain. ee “All right, sir.” Sid then withdrew to carry the news to Edna that he had become a bloated bondholder. Thirty minutes later Captain Gale came into the reception- room and told Sid he was ready to go to Jersey City. The boy put on his hat and coat and led the way to the street. ; “Here is Mr. Sharpley’s address,” said the captain, handing Graham a slip of paper. ; The boy glanced at it and was immensely relieved to find that the address was not the “Seaman’s Rest,” as he had feared it would be, but a side street in the neighborhood of one of the police courts. : : “I may have been mistaken, after all,” he thought. “I trust I have been.” - It was about four o’clock when they arrived at their destina-_ tion—a very ordinary-looking frame structure that badly — needed a coat of paint. . ere. A paint store occupied the ground floor, but a shabby tin — sign pointed the way to Mr. Sharpley’s office on the second — floor back. may Clearly, Mr. Sharpley was not a lawyer of any great im- ~ portance if external indications went for anything; still there — is a saying that you can’t always judge a book by its cover. — Sid, however, was rather disappofnted by what he saw, and — his former suspicions returned to him. ; ‘ They went upstairs, knocked on a door which bere Mr. — Sharpley’s name, and were bidden to enter by a boyish voice. . They accepted the invitation and found themselves in a — scantily furnished, not over-clean room, of small dimensions, — whose sole occupant was a small, red-headed urchin of per haps twelve years, who was perched upon a tall stool, read 4% ing a copy of some Wild West fiction. E Apparently he resented the intrusion of visitors, for a *

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6 SURE TO GET RICH. voice and manner were aggressive, as he inquired their business. “We wish to see Mr. Samuel Sharpley,” said Sid. “Well, you can’t see him, ’cos he isn’t in,” snorted the office boy. “Do you expect him in soon?” “Naw. If you want to see him badly you'd better go down to the ‘Seaman’s Rest,’ at the foot of Blank Street.” . “Where?” gasped Sid, aghast at the direction, which con- firmed his fears. “The Seaman’s Rest,” repeated the boy, who immediately returned to his library, and paid no further attention to his visitors. Sid, with a sense of impending misfortune, led the way back to the street. CHAPTER VY. THE SEAMAN’S REST. There are some tough and miserable-looking habitations along the Jersey City water front, but the worst of them all, in the estimation of the police, was the “Seaman’s Rest,” at the foot of Blank Street. The rear end of the building overhung the water, while one side of it encroached on a wharf. It had been shut up a number of times, for one reason or another, and at the present time was doing business on the quiet. On that particular November afternoon on which Sid’ Gra- ham and Captain Gale crossed the North River to Jersey City, in a shabby little den back of the barroom, sat two men, one of whom had scoundrel stamped in Nature’s most legible characters upon his forehead, though there wasn’t much room there to stamp it; while the other, dressed in a seedy black, looked the artful, cunning schemer he was. This well-matched pair of rascals were Benjamin Cutcliff, who had charge of the establishment, and Samuel Sharpley, the reputed owner. That the two were hand-in-glove in every piece of villainy which took place under the roof of that ramshackle building was generally understood by the police. Just how they managed to evade justice was a mystery, but as Cutcliff was a ward-heeler of the first magnitude, and Sharpley frequently appeared in the police court in behalf ‘of some resident of the election district, the inference was that the two raseals had-a strong pull in politics. 'A table, on which stood a black bottle, a couple of not over-clean glasses, and a cigar box full of loose tobacco, was between them. “Things seem to be goin’ to the bad with us, Sharpley,” said the low-browed ruffian, sullenly, as he refilled his clay pipe from the box and lit it. : “They couldn’t be much “Bad!” snapped the lawyer., worse.” ; _ “Monday I was pinched, and the bar closed, all on account of that sailor who said he had been hocussed in here, and - @leaned out of nine dollars,” grumbled Cutliff. “Well, I got you off, didn’t 1?” “You did, of course. But yesterday you was run in otk self ’eause another sailor I sent to your office charged you with swindling him out of sixteen dollars.” : “It didn't do the police any good to arrest me,” said Mr. harpley, with a disagreeable grin. “They didn’t have any evidence to hold me.” “That’s "cause you was too smart for ’em; but all the same the ‘fly cops are keepin’ their blinkers on both of us pretty ‘ab That sort of thing is doin’ us up. Looks as if we'd have to sell out and move somewhere else.” Sell!” ejaculated Mr. Sharpley, sarcastically. we got to sell?” 5 “Not much, to be sure,” admitted bis companion, dolefully, “ar glanced through the open door into the dimly lighted 2 ‘whose furnishings and stock in trade were at a ‘ebb. “Weil, that ain't the worst of it,” snarled Mr. Sharpley; pg out a portion of spirits from tHe bottle and tossing with a smdck of his lips. | do you mean?” exclaimed regarding his e with sudden alarm. hing te worry you Siete Growled’ the the lawyer, sh? eh tat Fadi at re eon s: RMR ay a Cutcliff, “What's up?” gly way. “What have i macry means ene ne eps - quiet sy 5 ae “The father of that gal I loaned you to play the piano and sing the latest topical songs” for the amusement of the patrons of the house has turned up.’ “You don’t mean it!” exclaimed Cutcliff, in some astonish- ment. “T do mean it,” snarled the lawyer. “The seafarin’ gent you said was lost at sea?” “That’s the man.” “Well, I'll be blowed! Have you seen him?” “No; but I expect to See him before many hours.” “How did you find out he was in the land of the liyin’?” “A messenger boy from across the river delivered a note at my office awhile ago from a party who isn’t any more gratified by the sudden and unexpected appearance of Cap’n Gale than I am.” “Oh!” grinned Cutcliff, blowing out a cloud of tobacco smoke. “Where has the cap’n been all these years?” added the scoundrel, curiously. “Wrecked on an island.” “And now he’s arrived home.” A . “He’s in New York.” “He'll want to see his daughter, and I’m afeard it'll be kind of awkward for you when he diskivers how the gal has been brought up.” The rascal shut one eye and regarded Mr. Sharpley with a kind of malicious grin. The lawyer glared at him uneasily. “You've been collectin’ some money from a Wall Street office every six months for to provide the gal with an eddi- How do you know he’s turned up? eation and support, but which,” with a wink, “has been otherwise appropriated.” “You needn't tell me what I know already,” replied Mr. Sharpley, disagreeably. “You might have had a bank account by this time if you wasn’t so fond of playin’ the horses and buckin’ the tiger.” “Bah!” “What are you goin’ to do about it, Sharpley?” The lawyer’s face took on an ugly frown, but he remained silent. “If I was in your shoes it would be me to the woods,” sug- gested Cutcliff. “When that sailor sees that his good money has been wasted, and that the gal ain’t the real lady he’s expectin’ to find her, he’s. goin’ to raise merry jingoes about this place. He can’t hold me for nothin’, as I ain’t responsible for her bringin’ up, at least to him. I never seen him, and ain’t s’posed to know Jessie Gale is his daughter. I kin swear she was gived to me to eddicate in the vaudeville line for her board and clothes,” asserted the scoundrel, with a grin. “You can swear to that, eh?” snapped, Mr. Sharpley, sar- eastically. “And can you swear you haven't pounded the life half out of her when she didn’t pick things up fast enough to suit you, or when you’ve been half drunk, or when she wouldn't sing the kind of songs you wanted her to? Can you swear to all that?” © Apparently, Cutcliff couldn’t swear to it, for he suddenly beeame silent and maybe thoughtful. The vision of an angry and perhaps powerfyl shipmaster ~ on the rampage flitted across his mental horizozn, and he had some doubts as to the immediate future. “Where is Jessie Gale?” asked Mr. Sharpley. “Upstairs in her room,” replied Cutcliff, sullily. “The cap’n, when he comes, mustn’t see her, do you under- stand?” “How are we goin’ to put him off?” “Leave that tome. He won't suppose she’s in such a place as this.” “It wouldn’t be healthy for us if he did,” grinned Cutcliff, helping himself to a drink. “How do you know it. wouldn’t?” growled the lawyer, with a wicked look coming into his eyes. | “TY ain't hankerin’ after a row that would bring the police ica on us the way things: is,” answered his partner in vil- ainy $ “There's more than one way of killing a L eat,” said his com- panion, darkly. “What do you mean by that?” inquired Cuteliff, curiously. “I mean,” said the lawyer, deliberately. “that Cap’n Gale mustn’t leaye this house with the knowledge that I have wronged both him and his danghter. If persuasion fails,

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a SURE TO GET RICH. Mr. Sharpley nodded grimly. “Which is?” said Outeliff, Mhaakelnaly: “No matter. You've a spare room with a bed in it above, overlooking the river, eh?” His companion said he had. “Got any drops in the house?” “You mean——” “Knockout drops, you fool!” snarled the lawyer, impatiently. “Tm all out of the stuff. 7 “We must have some.” “Then you're goin’ to drug the seafarin’ gent?” “Perhaps,” replied Mr. Sharpley, non-committally. too much at stake for me to mince matters.” _ The lawyer was receiving a very tidy sum quarterly from Page & Bacon, ostensibly for the benefit of Jessie Gale, but actually as a bribe paid to keep him from inquiring too closely into the matter of the securities left by Captain Gale in the hands of the Wall Street firm. Exposure of his conduct to the girl meant not only trouble with her father, but the certain loss of this income, if not arrest and imprisonment as. well. He knew he could not keep Jessie and her father apart for long without raising suspicion in the Jatter’s mind. The investigation which must follow would at once dis- close his duplicity. His plan, therefore, was to spar for time, while his fertile brain was originating some plan by which he hoped to over- come the danger that threatened him. He believed he had a willing accomplice in Benjamin Cut- cliff, though he could not tell how far he could trust him. He relied on the fact that their general interests were mutual: “As there’s no telling when Cap’n Gale will turn up here, T'll go out and buy a bottle of chloral.” Thus speaking, the lawyer took down his hat and overcoat from a hook, put them on, and left the Seaman’s Rest by a side door. Hardly bad he gone when a door, communicating with a passage where stairs led to the floor above, opened softly and by degrees, and presently a girl’s face, framed in ogre ‘ringlets, peered cautiously into the darkened and deserted bar- room. ‘It was a lovely, innocent face—a face stamped with the purity of a madonna. Slowly she stepped. into the filthy rum-hole, and then it might have been seen that she was dressed in a tawdry sort of finery, which showed itself beneath and through the rents ofa ragged old coat si wad had buttoned close about her sylph- like form. In one hand she cdoriet a paper bundle, and her alert and anxious look seemed to show that her object was to avoid observation. "As she crossed the unswept floor, where the discolored saw- dust was sprinkled with old cigar butts, pieces of broken tum- blers and fragments of stale free lunch, the grace of her morements was unmistakable. Her objective point was not the main door, which was locked and bolted, but the side door through which Mr. Sharpley had just passed out into the street. Once or twice she stopped, leaned against the bar and “There’s - listened, then advanced again. The shades of a late fall evening were closing in about the building, and objects were becoming more and more in- distinct in the barroom. The girl appeared to regard the moment propitious for whatever venture she had in hand. At length the half-open door leading into the den behind the eorner of the bar caught her notice. Instantly she paused and rounnied it with frightened, dis- tended eyes. ; ‘She had caught the sound of Outelift's feet as he shuffled them on the floor when he leaned against the table to help himsel? to another glass of whisky. . She heard the ring of the glass on the wood as he set it down after drinking. — Clearly, she stood in fear of the person behind that door. irae sudden pushing back of a a as nit the oceupant of . he elle, spragelyy 2 mak- meh ey ise Ft f Her hand was on the knob of the door and she made a des- perate effort to get it open. But the door did not move easily. Mr. Sharpley had slammed it to when he went out, and it elung obstinately to the jamb. Before she had quite overcome this difficulty the ruffian’s huge hand was on her shoulder, and she was jerked back, roughly, into the barroom. “So that’s your game, is it?” Cutcliff roared, furiously. as he snatched away her bundle and fired it behind the bar. “You were goin’ to cut and run, you little sneak! Goin’ to leave us in the lurch, eh? I'll give you somethin’ that'll learn you a lesson, you ungrateful jade.” “Oh, please don't beat me, sir,” she cried, shrinking back as far as she could from him, as he struck a match, reached up and lit the gas above his head. “Don’t beat you!” snarled the scoundrel, glowering down upon her. “I'll break every bone in your skin! Ill learn you to run away, Jessie Gale!” He clenched his horny fist and took a step nearer the girl, who, in abject fear, cowered at his feet. “Oh, don’t strike me, please don’t!” she sobbed. “I’m so weak and ill. That’s why I couldn’t sing when you wanted me to this forenoon.” “You'll sing loud enough directly, I'll warrant,” as he again raised his fist. Seizing her firmly by the wrist he was about to strike her a heavy blow, when the side door was pushed open suddenly and Sid Graham, followed by Captain Gale, entered the bar- room. The gas light fell upon the ruffian and his shrinking victim. His purpose was apparent. All the chivalry of Graham’s nature rushed to the fore. Springing forward, he caught the descending fist and ex- claimed, hotly: “You shall not strike that girl!” OHAPTHDR VI. : FATHER AND DAUGHTER. ““Who the dickens are you, and what do you want?” asked Cutelif®, savagely. ; “No matter who I am,” replied Sid. stoutly. to leave that girl alone, do you understand?” The ruffian was thoroughly astonished at the action of the resolute boy. Big, hulking rascal, that he was, a head taller than the athletic youth who faced him, he let go.of the girl and glared “I want you | at the boy, like some wild beast that was gathering his — energies to spring upon its prey. Then shaking his fist in Sid’s face he roared: “Get out of here, beth of you, do you hear, or ais murder. you!” Then Captain Gale interfered. “Loek here, my man,” he said, as if addressing an in- subordinate member of his crew, “we. didn’t come here to have trouble with you, but the boy is right. to let you lay your hand on that little girl. Why, shé’s al-_ most a child. You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” “I ought, ought I?” sneered Cutcliff. “What business. is x it of yours?” ‘ “It’s everybody’s business to interfere in the cause of iia weak and helpless.” Le “Oh, is it?” iy We're not going — M “TI don’t care what the girl has done, or why you want to me baeay | her, but we're not going to stand by and see. ei one Captain Gale was an old man, but he was a resolute one, ‘a accustomed to handling men as big and just as ugly as Ben- jamin Cutcliff, and the air of authority he brought to bear on the rascal had Its effect. The fellow’s rage subsided somewhat, and as the girl ¢ a few steps away from him and toward the two new whom she regarded as heaven-sent i rp in her hour % need, she said: . “Well, Mister Who-ever-you-are, we nesdailt quarrel over — the matter. The gal is a bad one, and I was only just rectin’ her, see? I s’pose you bad some object in: oe here. : I'd be Obleeged if you'd spit it out.” - “Yes, I had * obect in coming | here. es is the ‘Béamiast 4

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8 SURE TO GET RICH “We were told Mr. Samuel Sharpley was here. see him.”- Benjamin Cutcliff was at once upon his guard, not only in bis partner’s interest but, indirectly, his own. Who was this person who wanted to see Samuel Sharpley; and what did he want with him? It might seem strange, in view of Captain Gale’s seafaring appearance, which bristled in his every word and move, as well as the fact that the two rascals were expecting the cap- tain to put in his appearance at any moment, that Cutcliff did not at once suspect who his chief visitor really was; but the fact of the matter is this—the affairs of the house, as well as the reputation of both himself and his associate, were in so bad a way, that the ruffian actually had the idea that these visitors might be a couple of detectives or wardmen in disguise, come to trap Mr. Sharpley, if not also himself, and that suspicion made him exceedingly wary about answering questions. _ “What do you want with him?” in a more conciliatory tone than he had used before. “IT want to see him.” “What for?” persisted Cutcliff. “On a matter of personal business,” replied Captain Gale, stiffly. “He was here a while ago, but he’s gone away.” “Gone away?” said the captain, in a tone of great disap- pointment. “That’s what,” “But you expect him back, don’t you?” asked the master of the Fleetwing. “He might be back to-night, and then, ag’in, he might not,” shuffled Cutcliff. “You can give me his address, where he lives, can’t you?” eagerly. The rascal shook his head, with half a grin. ; “What are we going to do, Sid?” asked Captain Gale, turn- ing to his guide. Before the boy could reply, Cutcliff said: “Tf you'll leave your name and business, I’ll give it to him - when I see him again.” i “Can’t you send for him? I’m very anxious to see him— _ you haven’t the least idea how anxious,” said the captain, . almost imploringly. “I know he'll come just as soon as he I want to hears I’m here. Mr. Sharpley is my dead wife’s half-brother. Send him word that Cap’n Gale, who’s been away these eight years, is here waiting for him.” At that moment you might have knocked Cutcliff down with a feather. “Are you Cap’n Gale?” he gasped, forgetting the presence of the girl in the room. . “Iam. Cap’n Ed’ard Gale, formerly of the ship Wanderer, _ lost at sea, with all hands except myself, seven years ago; - and I’ve come to see my little Jessie——” A thrilling scream cut his further utterance in two. The girl started forward, wildly, and extended her arms to the master of the Fleetwing. - “Wather! Father!” she cried, frantically. I am your child, Jessie Gale!” _ “You my Jessie!” exclaimed Captain Gale, hardly believ- » ing for the moment that this girl of the slums, fair and in- - noeent as she looked, could be his daughter—the child he had believed to be reared in-an atmosphere fitted to her parentage. As the situation dawned upon Cutcliff, he uttered a ter- ble oath, and attempted to put himself between the two. “ut the skipper brushed him aside with hardly an effort, : id catching the girl in his arms, took her-lovely face in his _twd weatherbeaten hands and looked earnestly into a pair f eyes that were the exact duplicate of his dead wife's. “Gracious heaven! Are you indeed my Jessie? My little rling whom J have not seen in eight long years!” Yes, father!” she cried, sobbing for very joy as she nestled in his arms. And I meet you here—here in this place! * boarding- se on the docks. What does it all mean?” : er, don’t ask me!” she begged, with a shudder. me away ss} ool Do take me away.” ; aig you away? Why, of course I'll: take you away. t's iaDey brought me over here. I came for you, but I not expect to find you in such—— Explain, sir!” he ex- aimed, wrathfully, turning upon the discomfited Cutcliff. -is the meaning of this? When we entered this place rrenrd you in the act of striking this child—my daughter! me, or by the eternal, I'll have the house. isn’ about “Are you alive? your ears! Where is Mr. Sharpley? He shall answer to me for this outrage! Were is he, I say?” But to Cutcliff’s great relief he was saved from the dis- agreeable necessity of making a truthful reply to the irate sea captain. A purring voice just behind the captain rescued him from his. dilemma. “Oap’n Gale! Is it possible? I’m overjoyed to see you.” The greeting came from Mr. Sharpley, who had silently ap- peared on the scene. CHAPTER VII. A ORAFTY RASCAL. Mr. Sharpley, who had returned to the “Seaman’s Rest” at a moment which promised confusion to all his plans, had taken in the situation the instant he entered the barroom un- perceived by its occupants. Many a rascal under such trying circumstances would no doubt have slipped out again by the way he came, and, tak- ing time by the forelock, have sought safety in the best way he could. But Mr. Sharpley was =a built that way. He had too much at stake, as he had remarked to his as- sociate in guilt, to throw up the sponge at the first setback. -Naturally quick-witted, in a moment he decided on his course of action. He composed his villainous face, assuming what he meant to be a pleased smile, but which was in reality only a treach- erous leer, and advancing into the room, uttered the welcome which at once attracted Captain Gale’s attention from Cut- cliff to himself. The captain hardly recognized him, so greatly had rascality altered his dead wife’s half-brother, and for the moment stared at him without uttering a word. “What, Edward,” continued the schemer, going up to the shipmaster with outstretched band, “don’t you know me?” -Captain Gale looked hard at him, but with a doubtful, mis- trusting expression; and as he gazed there seemed to come from out the cunning, shifty countenance a look which some- how or other was strangely familiar to him; but even then he could hardly trust his eyes. “Sharpley,” he said, slowly and doubtingly, “is it you, Sharpley?” “Look again, Edward, look again.” He tried to speak with a light-hearted cordiality, but the attempt was at the best a miserable failure. “So,” said Captain Gale, at length satisfied of the man’s identity, “it is really you, Samuel Sharpley.” “Yes, Edward, yes; no other.” “Well, I’m glad to see you,” in a tone which was more of menace than of welcome. “Thank you, Edward,” purred the rascal, leeringly. “It ~ does one’s eyes good to see you back among wus again after we'd given you up for dead. It does, indeed, Edward. You are going to stay with us some time, I hope.” “We'll talk of that, maybe, when you’ve set a few things right that don’t strike me in the proper light at present,” replied the captain, sternly. “Whatever you want to know, Edward, you've only to ask. I’m ready to answer all questions, especially any concerning your sweet little daughter Jessie, whom I took it upon myself to bring up in your absence.” Cutcliff, who had wondered how his partner was going to extricate himself from ‘his desperate fix, was fairly paralyzed by the smooth, unemotional way Mr. Sharpley was conducting himself. His method was a revelation even to his guilt-steeped as- sociate, and the fellow gazed upon him with undisguised ad- miration. “Well, Mr. Sharpley,” replied Captain Gale, drily, “I hope you will be able to explain to my satisfaction how it is I find my Jessie in such a den as this appears to be. Answer me, sir; is this the way you have fulfilled your trust?” “Now. Edward, I beg you will have patience,” answered Mr. Sharpley, in a tone so meek that Outcliff rubbed his eyes to make sure it was actually his partner who had spoken. “Let us go upstairs, where the surroundings are, ahem! not quite so—shall I say repulsive; and I am sure biied shall come to a proper understanding.” “No, no, father!” cried. Jessie, clinging closer to bim. “Take me away, please. I don't want to stay here, indeed I don't.” “You hear that, Mr. Sharpley?” ae the captain, stroking

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a Xe 5 we ey eee -y + fe rays Vara} wy e hgnt eee ys % the girl’s head fondly. “You hear what she says? feel her tremble in my arms. This looks bad.” “TI don’t wonder the poor child wishes to get away,” replied Mr. Sharpley, hypocritically. “At best this house has few attractions for her.” If the lawyer ever spoke the truth in his life he told it then, though the wily rascal had a purpose in his admission, which circumstances forced from him. As for Cutcliff, he was amazed at his partner’s nerve. “Yes,” went on Mr. Sharpley, rubbing his hands with in- visible soap, and heaving a long-drawn sigh, “the poor child has — to put up with a great deal which could not be avoided.” : “Could not be avoided? What do you mean?” “I regret the confession, Edward, but things have gone hard with us; very hard, indeed. We have come down from a position of respectability to one of comparative poverty.” “How can that be?” demanded the captain, a bit puzzled, and not a little angry. “You have regularly received a con- siderable sum from Page & Bacon, the interest and dividends from one hundred and thirty-six thousand dollars worth of securities-——” “How much? One hundred and thirty-six thousand dollars, you say?” eried the lawyer, in great surprise, for Mr. Bacon had carefully concealed from him the real value of the cap- ae property, leading him to believe it was not a third of t sum. “Well, Mr. Sharpley, how does that concern you?” replied the master of the Fleetwing, bluntly. “You received the profits on my investments, did you not? And you were sup- posed to apply it to the support and education of my Jessie. It looks as if you had betrayed your trust.” “IT beg you will curb your feelings, Edward,” said Mr. Sharpley, with an effort. “I was about to explain.” “T am waiting for your explanation, sir,” replied the cap- tain, restraining his bubbling indignation. “TI acknowledge I received certain sums of money from Page & Bacon,” admitted the lawyer, feeling certain that Captain Gale had the facts of the case from the Wall Street brokers. “But,” here Mr. Sharpley screwed his countenance into a melancholy look, “financial difficulties overtook me, and I en- deavored to recever myself by resorting to games of chance.” Mr. Sharpley was telling the truth again, though it must haye astonished his tongue; but his object was to work upon the captain’s sympathy. “Do you mean to say you have gambled with Jessie's money?” roared the skipper. . “Edward,” he replied, humbly, “we all have our failures.” '.“Well, you are a pretty trustee, upon my word.” “TI hope you won’t be hard on me, Edward,” he whined. “I see now the error of my ways. I have treated the poor child shabbily, 1 admit, and I humbly ask your pardon. I “meant well, but the flesh was weak. You know I always was a kind of black sheep, Edward. Your wife, my sainted half- sister, tried to win me from my follies, but the ground under my feet was slippery—very slippery.” The very humility of Mr. Sharpley’s confession disarmed the captain’s just anger, and the rascal, who had been craftily working toward that end, was quick to grasp his advantage. “TI hardly expect your forgiveness, Edward, for I know I have wounded you in a tender spot; but at least let us try to part seeming friends, You have your Jessie. She is a good, sweet girl, and will make your old age happy. I sve tried— but we won’t say any more about that.” Mr. Sharpley moved over in front of his partner, and dexter- ously pushed into one of his hands a small bottle he had previously taken from his pocket. “Before we part forever, perhaps,” continued the rascal, making a feint to brush a tear from his eye, “let us drink to each other’s health. You won’t refuse me that small favor, Edward. It’s the last I'll ask of you.” Cutcliff, who had dropped to his associate’s purpose, quickly brought out a bottle of the best liquor the house had on’ hand, and while rinsing the glasses, dropped a portion of the drug into one of them, quickly covering it with three fingers’ depth of liquor. “Then he poured a second dram for his partner, and shoved the glasses toward the respective individuals. “I'd prefer not to drink with you, Sharpley, under the cir- ” replied Captain Gale; “but as you seem to or sorry for your almost unpardonable conduct, I’m willing to paced my resentment, with the understanding that our ways shall lie wide apart.” SURE TO GET RICH. arpley, =e had se aget the captain was about to . Mr. Sharpley led the me toward a door at the end of the ‘ I can|refuse to fall into bis trap, hid a malicious grin behind his hands, and stepped up to the bar. “Jessie,” said her father, “we are going to leave here now; but before we go I want you to know Sidney Graham,” and he motioned to the boy, who had been a quiet observer of-allk that had passed, to draw nearer. “Sid, this is my Jessie—my little ewe lamb—the very likeness of her dead mother. Take her by the hand, my lad, for I want you to be the best of friends. Jessie, this lad saved your father’s life on Wall Street this morning, and I expect you will be grateful to him for it.” f “Oh, Mr. Graham,” my father?” “Well, I can’t deny that I pulled him out of a tight scrape,” laughed Sid, much impressed by the girl’s singular beauty and charm of manner. “Then I shall be grateful to you as long as I live!” she eried, impulsively. “Thank you, Miss Jessie. friends.” “IT am sure we shall,” she replied, with a shy glance of ad- © miration at the good-looking boy. “That’s right,” said Captain Gale, in a pleased tone. “Now take charge of her, Sid, while I humor this miserable apology of a man by drinking his health.” He stepped up beside the bar and took up the glass of drugged liquor. “Your health, Edward,” said Mr. Sharpley, humbly. “Yours, Sharpley. May you become a better man, though I doubt if you ever will.” : The glasses clinked and the tenet was drunk. “Now, Jessie, Sid, we will go,” said the captain as he put down his glass. “Good-by, Sharpley. For your dead halif- sister’s sake I will bury the past, but I trust we may not meet again.” The three walked to the door, and Sid tried to open it. It was locked. she cried, earnestly, “did you really save . I hope we shall be very good CHAPTER VIII. IN 4 BAD FIX. “The door is locked,” said Sid, after he had vainly tried to open it. - “Locked!” exclaimed the captain, grasping the knob and giving it an ineffectual wrench. “This is singular.” Jessie crept closer to her father and looked frightened. “How is this, Sharpley?” Captain Gale demanded of the rascal. “This door. is locked.” The lawyer looked up, with a repulsive leer on his face. He had been hurriedly whispering something to Cutcliff. “You must be mistaken, Edward,” replied the schemer, without making a move. His object evidently was to gain time for the drug to work 4 on the generous-hearted old sea captain. he As for the boy and the girl, he hardly took them into con- _ sideration. a He would have been less confident if he had known the courageous nature of Sid Graham. ¢ og ae “I’m not mistaken. The door is locked,” tain, impatiently. r Mr. Sharpley pretended to be incredulous, and apparently — to satisfy himself, went over and tried the door. 3 “You'll have to go out by the wharf door,” remarked the lawyer, with an evil smile. , “No, no, father,” protested Jessie, who seemed to suspect the two men of some crooked intention. ¢ “What's the difference which door we take, little one?” sald Captain Gale. Sid Graham didn’t like the looks of things any more than aa he fancied the joint itself. A “Haven't you a key to this door?” he asked. turning upen- = the lawyer. “You came in this way yourself.” y Mr. Sharpley appeared to be very deaf all at once, for he : took no notice of the boy’ 8 question. “This way, Edward,” he sald to the sea capiain. you out by the wharf door.” “Father, I'm afraid he means you harm,” begged Tessie, bursting into tears. “Means me harm! What, that whippersnapper? I could. handle three like him,” chuckled the captain. “Come. As we can’t get out this way, why, we'll take the other door.” ~ answered the cap- “TH let

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“10 SURE TO GET RICH. barroom, and as the party filed towa:d it, Cuteliff drew a] door at once, and the first thing he did was to creep softly up slung-shot from his pocket and glided after them. The lawyer opened the door and entered a sort of sitting- room, overicoking the river. As Captain Gale was following, Cutcliff stepped forward, seized Sid and swung him aside, and struck the master of the Fleetwing a stunning blow on the head with his weapon. As the captain fell, face forward, on the floor, Jessie ut- _ tered a piercing scream and threw herself beside her father. “Look after the gal,” cried Cutcliff, rapidly, “I'll answer for * the boy.” He slammed the door to and turned about to attend to Grabam. : Sid had quickly recovered himself, but noting the slung- ‘shot in the scoundrel’s hand he seized a stool and swung it viciously at Cutcliff’s head. As Sid was a strong boy for his years, the blow would have knocked the ruffian out if it had struck him squarely. But no such fortunate. thing: happened. He faced the lad in time to throw up one of his powerful arms and arrest the intended blow in mid-air. Then he closed with Sid. _ The struggle which followed was brief, for Graham was no match for the big rascal. : The stool flew into a corner, and Sid slipped and went down on the floor, with Cutcliff on top of him. Thé ruffian dropped the slung-shot as he fell over the youth, wf and it rolled out of his reach. # But he didn’t need it. ' : He grasped at Sid’s throat, and failing to get a hold, ow- ing to the violence of the boy’s struggles, he struck Graham - a heavy blow on the head with one of his fists, half stunning him “I guess I’ve fixed you, you cantankerous whelp!” he mut- tered, seeing that the boy had ceased all movement. ru put you where you won’t have a chance to butt in any _. more. ~ He raised a trap leading to the cellar under the barroom, grasped the boy in his arms and carried him down into the filthy, fll-smelling place. Bs; “There, I hope you'll enjoy your bed,” he gritted, as he laid his burden on the rough planks which formed the flooring. & “You'll stay here till we kin attend to your case.” A Then he left the semi-conscious boy, ascended the steps, j threw down the trapdoor into its place, and rolled a beer keg ' oh top of it. & ~ fen minutes might have elapsed before Sid recovered his _ Senses sufficiently to make a move. He sat up, to find himself in utter silence and darkness. . Where was he? That be could not tell. He got upon his feet and stretched out his arms, but Gan . @eame in contact with nothing ; “This is a nice pickle I’m in, for fair,” he muttered, gloom- ily. “And I'm afraid things have gone hard with Captain Gale and his daughter. What a villain that lawyer, Sharpley, is! He looks capable of committing a murder without turn- ing a hair, As to his ruffianly associate, he’s a gallow’s-bird if there ever was one. I wonder what they intend to do with me? Do me up, I suppose, at their leisure. And this is a fittmmg place for the commission of any dark deed. The - river: 4s right up against ‘this building. A knock on the head - and a quiet toss out of a window—that’s all that’s necessary to get rid of a human incumbrance,” with a shudder. “Well, m not going to be put out that way if I can help myself,” he dded, resolutely. “Thank goodness, I always carry a match- ‘safe, though I'm not a smoker. It’s handy to have about one, and never more welcome than at this moment.” Sid struck a match, and as the tiny flame flared up he looked curiously about him. He saw he was in a cellar, and from the collection of ap- ently empty beer and whisky barrels scattered about, ged it was beneath the barroom of the “Seaman’s Rest.” The floor and walls were thickly covered with an accumula- on of dust and dirt, while the corners were festooned with heavy collection of cobwebs. ‘art of a candle. supported by three nails driven into a il block. of wood, stood on the top of one of the, barrels, Sid hailed its appearance with satisfaction. ‘ it was a wooden hammer-like re tiphgae corsa used for Vivin g in the bungs of casks. Sid lit the candle and taking it in his hand made a more - survey ef his, prisen. 0: gang he ‘botieed” thee stairs” ‘connecting with ‘the ‘trap- them and push against the trap. It resisted all the strength he could bring to bear upon it. “Locked on the other side,” he muttered. “I ought to have known it would be.” Returning to the cellar floor again, he began to look for the usual sidewalk opening. Lying upon the floor he saw a skid, used for sliding barrels down an incline. Flashing the light in that direction he made out a break in the stone wall. ~ Crossing over, he saw a series of wooden steps rising at an acute angle. | Ascending a couple of them brought him within reach of the customary cellar flaps, joined in the center. On pushing against them he found, as he had feared, that the covering was secured on the other: side, probably by a heavy hasp and padlock. “No chance of getting out this way, that’s certain,” breathed. Then he continued his inspection of the place. “I believe there’s a door here,” he said, as he noticed an indentation in the stone wall at one end of the cellar. The break in the wall was almost hidden by a pile of empty wine and champagne boxes, stacked up to the ceiling. Dislodging one of the boxes, he pushed the candle into the hole. “It is a door, all right, but of course it’s locked.” _As he didn’t mean to let any possible chance to escape from the place go by him, he set to work to investigate. He had to remove a dozen boxes before he came to the knob, and then he noticed that the door was held by a bolt. It was rusty and stiff from disuse, but by the aid of a few taps from the bung mallet Sid shot it, and pushed the door he “Now, | open The cold, salty breath of the river saluted his nostrils. Looking around the enclosure he had stumbled upon, he thought at first from the collection of spiles which rose out of a watery foundation that he was beneath the wharf ad- joining the “Seaman’s Rest.” “I’m out of that den, at any rate,” he murmured. “All I have to do is to clamber across these spiles, get on the wharf and rush off for police assistance to save the captain and his daughter from the designs of those scoundrels,” The spiles were crossed by numerous braces, and afforded an easy means of getting to what Sid supposed was the edge of the wharf. He was handicapped by the necessity of carrying the lighted candle with him to light up his surroundings, and prevent him from making an unlucky step, for the place was as dark as the blackest night, and the swashing sound of the water around the base of the spiles warned him of the con- sequences of an unfortunate tumble. Cautiously he moved across the network of braces until he reached the further side of the place. Sticking his head out into the open air and glancing up- ward, he saw not the stringpiece of a wharf, but the smooth outline of a building. The wharf, like a piece of smut in the air, was only a few yards away, and easy to be reached, but for the moment he was directly under the continuation of the “Seaman’s Rest.” Looking out on the river, Sid saw a distant ferryboat head- ing in for her slip, and far beyond her glimmered the lights on Manhattan Island. The boy had no more use for his candle, so he dropped it © into the water. ‘Further inspection above showed him a sort of stringpiece, a foot in width, running the length of the building. “Tf I can pull myself up on that it will be easy walking to the wharf, and will save time.” To a lad of his gymnastic training the feat was not very difficult, and he was presently standing upon the stringpiece, with his back against the building. He found that the footboard waé not as stable as he had supposed, and therefore he moved forward with considerable caution, feeling his way as he went. A window overlooked his path about half-way to the wharf. Two of the panes were broken and patched with paper, As he drew close to it he saw a dim light shining through the dirty glass, pica Bnd cautiously in fscoeh a comparatively clean patch, he was somewhat startled to see the forbidding features of Samuel Sharpley a gceroponet Catelift bode 8 a OE or two of the window. © 4

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SURE TO GET RICH. 7 - > EE ern Cee a fe ee eee eg ee a x NTRS A NTT TTT ET ESE SESS ses SES meas s CHAPTER IX. WHAT SID SAW AND HEARD THROUGH THE WINDOW- The ‘two scoundrels were seated at a table placed against the window, and were smoking and drinking. Mr. Sharpley had in his hands the red leather pocketbook which Sid at once recognized as the property of Captain Gale, for it was the same in which he had placed the card on which the boy had written his name and address at the ae captain’s request, while they sat together in the Broad street - .. eafe that morning. ‘! Eyery word spoken by the rascals in the room came. dis- tinctly to Sid’s ear through the patched window panes, and a part of the conversation rather astonished him. Mr. Sharpley had already abstracted the money that the pocketbook contained, for it lay in a small pile on the table beside his elbow. But he seemed to be searching for something else, for he ot took paper by paper from the different pockets and examined . them carefully by the light of the candle which furnished ~- Wumination. 4 “Perhaps it ain’t there,” Sid heard Cutcliff remark, as he _ -@agerly leaned across the table, his unshaven face looking Ky decidedly dirty and forbidding. ; “It ought to be here unless——” “Unless what?” “He left it behind aboard his ship.” The paper appeared to be of great importance to the ras- eally pair, for the very idea that it might be out of their reach brought an oath from the tobacco-stained lips of the big ruffian. Finally, Mr. Sharpley came to the end compartment, and, inserting his talon-like fingers, fished out a bit of carefully folded paper. j ; He opened it out carefully and uttered an exclamation of satisfaction. Sid, peering through the glass, saw that the paper bore the : lithographed heading of Page & Bacon. ; “Got it. have you?” cried Cutcliff, eagerly. : “Yes. This is Page & Bacon’s acknowledgment of the re- : reipt on deposit from Captain Edward Gale of one hundred Alpha & Omega five per cent. first mortgage bonds, market value nine thousand dollars; and five hundred shares of pre- i ferred stock of same company, market value twenty thou- sand dollars—in al twenty-nine thousand dollars.” ‘ “Is that all?” asked Cutcliff, in a disappointed tone. “That's all.” j ; “Then, what did the cap'n mean when he sald in the bar- room that Page & Bacon “had paid you the interest on se- ‘@urities worth one hundred and thirty-six thousand dollars?” _- “This receipt is dated eight years ago, Cutcliff. The stock - and bonds must have gone up in value. You’ye got a morn- ing paper somewhere about the place, haven’t you?” “I've got one somewheres.” “Weill, get it and l’ll look Alpha & Omega up, and see what it's worth.” ‘ While Cutcliff went hunting for the paper, the lawyer took up the money, skinned a couple of the big bills off the bottom and put them away in one of his pockets. ‘Honesty among thieves was clearly not one of his virtues. Then he laid the money down in exactly the same place It Was before, and was replacing the rejected papers in the ‘pocketbook when his partner returned with the paper. Mr. Sharpley took it out of his hand, turned to the financial page and scanned the reports of sales on the Stock Bxchange. . “Alpha & Omega, closing price, 125,” he read. “What does that mean?” asked his confederate, in a puz- zled tone. ‘ --—-- *¥t means the stock Is worth one hundred and twenty-five dollars per share,” said the lawyer, in great satisfaction. ; Does that make one hundred and thirty-six dollars?” asked _ the big scoundrel, with a covetous glance. “Yell, hardly,” replied his partner. “I’ve got to look the bonds up yet.. Ah, here they are: Alpha & Omega, first ortg: fives, one hundred and ten dollars.: Give me a bit _ of paper and I'll figure the thing out.” pea ‘Cutelif? produced some dirty torn sheets of notepaper from e drawer of the table. ; Ysa ; he lawyer took a lead pencil from his vest-pocket. ° ‘Five hundred shares at one hundred and twenty-five dol- is sixty two thousand five hundred; one hundred bonds seventy -three thousand five hundred dollars.” i ' He stood on the frail footboard outside the window, ‘fairly on > hundred and ten dollars is eleven thousand dollars— ; - che isn’t one hundred and thirty-six thousand,” grumbled Cuteliff. “No,” said Mr. Sharpley, who. of course, had no idea that by the “watering” process the 500 shares had become 1,000, “but it’s a pretty tidy amount. The captain must have other securities in Page & Bacon’s hands if they really hold one hundred and thirty-six thousand dollars worth of his prop- erty. They never told me anything about what they had—the foxy scoundrels!—nor what was the value of the captain’s holdings. I didn’t suppose he was worth more than thirty thousand dollars, and I wormed that information out of my half-sister before she died. I thought-I had turned the screws on Page & Bacon, and was making a good thing out of them these six years past, when the truth seems that they have been doing me up to the queen’s taste, and laughing at me in their sleeves. The villains!” exclaimed Mr. Sharp-’ ley, in a passion. “But I'll make ‘em pay for it! This is the article,” holding up the receipt, “which shall make ’em stump up handsomely, or I'll expose ’em in court.” “They meant to do the gal out of the cap’n’s dust, eh?” “That’s their idea. They thonght he was dead and out. of the way for good. . They believed the receipt went down with him and his ship. Nobody but they know what the cap’n owned. If he hadn’t sent me that power of attorney to draw on them I shouldn't have known where that thirty thousand dollars worth of. property I figured on had gone to, and then they’d have had everything in their hands. If it hadn’t been that I knew the court never would have appointed me: the girl’s guardian, ’'d have made it warm for Page & Bacon; but that was where they bad me, and I-had to make the best | bargain I could with them—the villains! If the cap’n, when. he visited them to-day, had only known what slippery ducks they are, he wouldn’t have left his property im their hands five minutes. But he didn’t know, and he'll never know now. He was an easy bird for them to pluck; but this receipt will make ’em ante up a fair share of his property, or there’s go- ing to be trouble.” Mr. Sharpley then went on to tell his associate about the swindling arrangement be had entered into with Page & Bacon by which he received a certain sum every three months as a kind of side-partner in the robbery of the presumed orphan—Jessie Gale—and as Sid Graham heard every word of this confidential disclosure his faith in the integrity of the firm who employed him received a terrible jar. “With this receipt, and the girl under my thumb, Page & Bacon will have to toe the mark,” grinned the lawyer, ex- ultantly. “As you are in with me on this business now, for” I can’t dispose of the cap’n without your help, we'll divide* even on whatever we can bleed the Wall Street brokers out, of.” “That's. the way I like to hear you talk, Sharpley.. A Square deal every time between business associates is my mottoe.” The lawyer ginned, but the grin meant no good to Ben- jamin Cutcliff, “No,” continued the big scoundrel, “there ain’t no use waitin’ till all hours to finish this bit of business we have in baud. Between the drug and the crack on the nut I handed — him out, the seafarin’ gent will be pie in our hands. A | we'ye got to do is to fetch him down to this room, tle a good weight around his feet, and with a bit of rope lower him out of this window into the river. The night is dark as the — ace of spades, so there ain’t no chance for nobody to see us — doin’ the trick. As we're both in it, there ain't no fear of R either of us squealin’ on the other.” ; co aap The layer ginned again, but more sardonic than before. “After that, we'll treat the boy to a dose of the same physic; ~ that removes all the evidence in the case; then, even if the — gal should give us the slip any time and make a squeal, — nothin’ kin be brought ag’in us, see?” ; S ’ Riyidently, Mr. Sharpley saw the point, for he grinned — again, more horribly than ever. Lima ea CHAPTER X. TRICKING THE ENEMY. “What shall I do?” fluttered Sid, as he saw the two villains leave the room. “They're going to complete their murderous work by drowning Captain Gale. How shall I save him, for — save him I must? I haven't a weapon of any kind, an there isn’t time for me to hunt up a police officer.” Se ‘Suddenly a plan occurred to him, like an inspiration , shivering with excitement and anxiety. "

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SURE TO GET RICH. le ee ee Se heaven—a plan whose very ingeniousness seemed to promise success. But to carry it out he must have a boat. ; That should not be so hard to find in that neighborhood. Well. if he was to put his scheme into execution he had no time to lose, SF na moved along the stringpiece in the direction of the arf. In a few moments he was standing on the dock. He ran across the planks to a landing place he had noticed that evening in the gathering dusk when he and Captain Gale had walked to the “Seaman's Rest.” ; At that time he had seen several small boats tied to the lowest step of the landing stairs. Were they, or even one of them, still there? That was the - all-important question. Running down the steps to the water’s edge, he hurriedly struck a match. . The sputtering light showed him that the boats were there. “Thank heaven,” he murmured, fervently. “I shall be able to avert a terrible crime!” aa fact that there were no oars in the boats did not worry m. The distance he had to go was so short that he could pull himself around to the scene of action by means of the spiles. To pull out his jack-knife and sever the rope which secured the sinallest of the boats was but the work of a moment. Then, stepping into her, he pulled her wnder the wharf, and so on, until he came out on the other side; then he guided her along the spiles until he reached a position directly under . the window through which Cutcliff had proposed to launch ? the unconscious form of Captain Gale to his death. There he wdited in the darkness for developments. Presently he heard the window sash above raised. In a moment or two he heard a sound which told him that an object of some kind, which he believed to be the captain, nd being pushed out and lowered slowly and with delibera- tion. He heard it strike against the footboard on which he had been standing when listening at the window. _ Gazing eagerly upward, he perceived a dark object come be- tween his eyes and the sky. Its outline was surely that of a good-sized human being. Soon if hung clear of the stringpiece and came down to- ward the’ boat. » When it came within reach he extended his hands and guided it into his little craft. As the body sank into the bottom of the boat Sid grasped the ropes that ran under the captain’s armpits and pulled steadily on them, just enough to give the villains above the idea that the body was going right down to the bed of the river. Finally, when he thought enough of the rope had been payed out he stopped pulling, dexterously yanked the strands from under the unconscious man’s arms and let the rope drop softly into the water. 2 As he did so one of the ends of the rope struck the water _ with a splash, the line was rapidly pulled up, and soon dis- _ appeared in the gloom above. _ His scheme had succeeded finely, and Captain Gale’s life was saved, though he was yet well under the influence of the » - drug. But Jessie Gale was still in the hands of the enemy. _ She was not in any danger of her life, it was true, but it did not seem as if his work could be regarded as satisfactory unless he was able to devise and execute some plan which would secure her escape as well as her father’s. How was this to be done? Ther he suddenly recollected that it was Cutcliff’s purpose ‘© visit the cellar with the object of polishing off the pris- oner he supposed to be still there. : “Py George! they’ll see the boxes down and the door open. - hat will show them I have made my escape, and just how * 1 managed to do it. They will naturally believe I’ve gone to give them away at the nearest police station. That will row them into a panic, and they will vamoose the ranch, cing Jessie with them, and the captain may lose track of ‘daughter altogether, which would be tough. Is there any - way to avoid this?” . _ A dozen schemes flashed through his brain, only to be dis- arded in turn as impracticable. At last a daring, we might call it desperate, plan occurred ch : would return to the cellar and conceal himself there, leaving, however, the evidence pointing to his escape plainly to be seen by either or both of the rascals who came down, bent on his death. : Then he would trust to luck for a chance to turn the tables on them. A boy less courageous, less nervy, than Sid Graham would have hesitated or declined to engage upon so hazardous a bi ei even in behalf of so pretty and good a girl as Jessie ale. But Sid was plucky and venturesome to the backbone. Where his duty pointed he was always ready to, take chances. He had already shown this spirit in his daring rescue of Captain Gale from under the very nose of the fire depart- ment horses that morning. : He knew that Jessie was dearer to the captain than his life, therefore he was ready to face a serious peril that she might be restored to her father. Having decided upon the course he meant to pursue, Sid paddled the boat with his hands under that part of the build- ing built on spiles. He tied the craft to one of the innermost spiles, where it would hardly be noticed even if a: light was flashed around the watery place. Feeling easy about the captain, Sid climbed over to the door, which was still open as he had left it. Entering the building he disarranged the boxes still more, so that they would attract immediate attention. Then he crept in between the wall and a tier of empty beer barrels and waited. He had not long to wait, though Sid thought he was there fully half an hour, when the trapdoor was thrown up, and Outcliff, with a lantern in his hand, followed by the lawyer, came down into the cellar. Stand where you are, Sharpley!” ordered the big ruffian, when they reached the foot of the steps. That young monkey has probably recovered his senses by this time and may make a break for the stairs while I’m lookin’ for him.” So Mr. Sharpley covered the approach of the steps lead- ing to the barroom, while his associate fiashed the light around the cellar. Suddenly Cutcliff uttered a fierce oath. His eyes had lighted upon the scattered boxes and the open door beyond. *. Come here, Sharpley!” he roared, furiously. “That boy has escaped by this old door, which has never been opened since we've been here. How he discovered it behind that pile of boxes gets me. We'll have to cut out now with the girl in pretty short order, for he’ll notify the police, and we'll be arrested if found here and the house searched for the sea- farin’ gent and his daughter.” The lawyer dashed over to his side, uttering language that would not look well in print. Cutcliff flashed the light of the lantern upon the _ spiles, but couldn’t see any sign of the fugitive. Mr. Sharpley was simply in a boiling rage, and he at- tacked his companion for not having bound his priscner by the hands and feet before leaving him alone in the cellar. While they were fighting it out together, Sid slipped up the steps to the barroom, shut down the trapdoor and piled two beer kegs on top of it. “While they are waking up to the situation, and climbing out over the spiles, I’ll have time to search the house for Jessie,” he breathed. Not knowing the lay of the place, Sid ran into the room next to the barroom, first of all. ¢ This was the sitting-room where the rascals had been con- yersing when the boy watched them through the window. Across a chair Mr. Sharpley ‘had carelessly thrown his coat just before entering the cellar. It would have attracted but a moment’s notice from Sid, but for the fact that his sharp eye caught sight of one end of Captain Gale’s red pocketbook sticking out of an inner pocket. - Graham pounced upon the article at once and thrust it into an inner pocket of his jacket. Then he continued his search for the stairway to the upper regions of the building. But there was no sign of such a thing at this end of the house. “It must be at the other end of the barroom,” thought the boy, hurriedly retracing his steps. ' Sure enough, when he opened a door near the further-coruer of the bar, he saw a dark passage and a flight of stairs. Hastily mounting the uncarpeted steps he came upon a cor-

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ridor. whete a lonesome-looking gas-jet disclosed six doors, three on each side of the passage. One after the other he tried the knobs; the doors yielded, and a hasty examination of each room showed it to be empty. “Where can Jessie be?” Sid asked himself, in a fever of impatience. At the far end of the corridor he came upon a narrow flight of steps communicating with an old-fashioned attic. He sprang up these, two steps at a time, in the dark, until his outstretched hands encountered a door. Striking a match he tried the knob, but found the door fastened. Then he saw that a key was in the lock. He snapped it back and ‘the door opened. The expiring match burned his fingers and he let it fall, leaving himself in a profound gloom. He struck another match and gazed around a low-ceiled apartment, whose roof sloped to a pair of dormer windows overlooking the street. There was a rag carpet on the floor, a small bureau, wash- stand, two chairs, a little table with a red cover, and a bed. Face down across the bed lay the object of his search— Jessie Gale. Her attitude showed she had abandoned herself to grief and despair. _ Observing a candle on the table, Sid lit it, and then walk- ing over to the bed laid his hand upon the girl’s arm and ‘shook her. “Jessie—Jessie!” he cried. She started up as in a dream, with half-parted lips, and looked at him in a dazed way “Don’t you know me, Jessie?” he asked, eagerly. She sprang to her feet, her lips moved, but not a sound came. “I am Sid Graham. Your father is safe and I have come to take you to him.” Pa She uttered a cry and seized him by the arm. * “My father! Oh, where is he?” Y “Come with me and you shall see him. We baven’t a mo- _ Ment to lose.” She burst into a passion of tears, and for the moment seemed unable to stir. : bal Sid .t his arm gently about her, led her, unresistingly, from the room, down the stairs, through the corridor, thence to the barroom, and finally into the sitting-room. “ Throwing up the window hé looked out into the night, only to come face to face with Benjamin Cutcliff, who had just climbed upon the stringpiece outside. Be Fenn! - CHAPTER XI. OUT OF DANGER AT LAST. = “The surprise was mutual, and for an instant neither made *: a movement. | Then Cutcliff. with an oath, made a grab at Sid. ck The boy evaded his clutch by springing to one side, while - at the same time he struck the scoundrel a heavy blow in the face. . Cutcliff slipped and only saved himself from falling into the water by catching hold of the window-sill with both of his ds. One of his feet, however, struck Mr. Sharpley, who was crawling onto the footboard behind him, a sweeping blow, backward into the water. He gave one gasping ery, then struck the river with a loud Splash, and the water closed above his head. Cutceliff, unmindful or unconscious of the damage he had in- - fileted on’ his partner in crime, struggled to recover his foot- hold on the stringpiece. His repulsive countenance was distorted with passion, and what he meant to do to Sid as soon as he got his hands on him would not have been pleasant for the boy. . But Sid was fully aroused to the peril of his position, and __ Was prepared to put up the fight of his life—not only in his own behalf, but for Jessie, whose safety depended on his : “Shad girl, standing back in the room, watched the fight with ed and frightened eyes. experience with the cruel and brutal nature of Ben- ae had bepares hal to aes upon him with horror yy i Naa? Pe es, -e ere Ue ae aE tO), erate ge SURE’ TO GET RICH. a: which dislodged the lawyer from his perch and threw him } 13 Many beatings at his hands had. cowed her so that she al- ways shivered at the sound of his voice. As the ruffian, swearing frightfully, got one knee on the stringpiece, Sid struck him another blow in his unprotected face—landing on one of his blood-shot eyes. ; He might as well have punched a wooden man for all the effect it had on the fellow, except to increase the flow of his vile language. Cutcliff was a tough, used to taking and giving’ punish- ment in many a hard-fought scrap, and Sid's blows didn’t bother him worth mentioning. With a roar of rage the scoundrel sprang up on the foot- board and prepared. to dash through the window, when the stringpiece, which was not strong, gave way under him and he disappeared from the sight of the boy, after clutching vainly at the window-sill. A second splash in the water showed the fate which had overtaken him. Come, Jessie, we must get out of here!” cried Sid, with energy. That villain will climb up again as soon as he gets his hands on the spiles. Your father is in a boat right. un- der this room, and we must reach him somehow at once.” She allowed him to lead her into the barroom. He pushed the beer kegs off of the trap, opened it and bade her follow him down. Reaching the cellar, which was dimly illuminated by the lantern the villains had left behind them when they took to the cross-pieces of the spiles to make their way out after they had found they were cut off from the barroom, Sid, closely followed by Jessie, went quickly to the open door and looked ° out. He dimly made out a couple of dripping shadows, which he knew to be Mr. Sharpley and his ruffianly partner, shinning up the spiles near where they had fallen into the river. “Wait here, Jessie,” said Sid. “till I fetch the boat to take you off.” “You won't be long?” she asked, in quivering tones. so nervous and frightened.” “Don’t worry, little girl,” he replied, laying his hand on her arm, reassuringly. “The boat, with your father in it, is only a few feet away. I will have it here in a moment.” He swung himself off onto a cross-piece and she lost sight of him in the darkness. It was quite an ordeal for her, waiting there in the dark- ness of the open door for him to return with the boat. Only a few. minutes-really elapsed, but to the frightened girl it seemed endless. Just as Sid pushed the boat up alongside of the door there was a sound of heavy footsteps above, which showed that Cutcliff and Sharpley had re-entered the building. i Jessie heard them, and almost collapsed at the thought that they might come into the cellar and find her standing there. Sid heard them, and he judged they would rush down into , the cellar just as soon as they saw the trapdoor was open. ~— “Jump in, Jessie,” he said, reaching up his arms to her. ~ She jumped and he placed her on one of the seats. “My father, where is he?” she cried, in an agitated voice. “Lying on the bottom of the boat behind you.” “Oh, he is not dead—don’t say he is dead!” she exclaimed, in a voice of anguish. “No, Jessie, he is not dead,” he hastened to assure her. “But why is he so silent and motionless?” she aked. “What is the matter with him?” “He has been drugged. I heard that big rascal say so.” “Drugged! Oh, heaven!” “They gave him the usual knockout drops, I guess. He'll come out of his stupor after a while as well as he ever was.” “Oh, I hope so—I do hope so!” she said, plaintively. “Poor © “T'm .|father!” and she wept softly to herself. In the meantime Sid had guided the boat through the small forest of spies until he passed under the adjacent wharf. He did not intend to take the boat back to the landing where. he got it, as it was too close to the “Seaman’s Rest,” and the captain. being unconscious he would have been obiiged to leave him and his daughter in the boat while he weat off looking for help such as he felt he might depend on, and sueh a course would have left them exposed to discovery by the villains they had but just evaded. So Sid paddled the boat slowly along with his hands until he came to the next wharf, under which he passed, like he had the other dock. Coming into open water once more, he saw i befere bimss a big bark moored to the third wharf. He rae to board her and ask the what or the mato, - ty wi fe ea Le 5

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—- whoever happened to be in charge, to receive Captain Gale and his daughter for the night. Hetied the boat’s painter to a spile under the bark’s bow- sprit, and, after telling Jessie of his intentions, clambered to the wharf and sprang aboard the vessel. A couple of sailors, smoking alongside the rail, hailed him and asked what he wanted. “Is the captain on es “Yes; he’s below.” “I want to see him.”. “What's your business?” asked one of the men, who hap- pened to be the steward. Sates important. Will you tell the captain I want to see im?” The man hesitated a moment, then he said: “Wait here and I’ll see whether he’s turned in yet.” The speaker went aft and disappeared down a short com- panion-way. In a few minutes he returned with another man—a short, thick-set person, with a full black beard. “This is the cap’n,” he remarked, and then rejoined his companion beside the rail. “Well, what do you want with me?” demanded the skipper of the bark, erufily. Sid told him in as few words as possible what he wanted. “You say this man is a sea captain, that he’s drugged, and that his daughter is with him, in a small boat alongside the wharf?” said the skipper, incredulously. “Yes, sir. He and I visited a place in this neighborhood called the ‘Seaman’s Rest,’ a pretty hard resort, and we've barely escaped with our lives.” “I know the place,” replied the skipper. “It’s the worst hole along the docks, by long odds. How came you to go there?” “Captain Gale wanted to find a lawyer named Sharpley, on business of great importance. I hope you won’t ask me to go into particulars, as the captain and his daughter ought to be taken from the boat at once.” “Very well,” acquiesced the skipper of the bark, now ap- parently satisfied that the boy’s statement was correct. “Here, Jones, you and the steward lend this boy a hand. There’s a@ man and a girl in a boat alongside the wharf ahead. Get them on the dock and fetch them aboard.” : “Aye, aye, sir!” - With the assistance of the two men, Captain Gale and Jessie ip wh transferred to the deck of the bark and thence to the cabin. As soon as Sid had provided them with a temporary asylum, ‘he started off up the wharf to inquire his way to a police sta- tion. _ He was directed to one located three blocks away, and he Yi ‘told his story, with certain reservations, to the officer in charge. Several plain-clothes men started for the “Seaman’s Rest,” but when they had forced an éntrance into the place they found it deserted. _ Samuel Sharpley and Benjamin Cutcliff, finding that both _ the boy and Jessie Gale had managed to get away, decided that, for the present at least, the game was up, and to avoid the _ eonsequences they had brought upon themselves, they took ron npg gl of their chance and made their escape to parts un- own CHAPTER XII. SID BEGINS TO ACCUMULATE MONEY. It. was well on to midnight when Sid left the police station after leaving his address with the sergeant in charge.. He returned to the bark and found that the captain of that vessel had succeeded in bringing Captain Gale to his senses. _. The master of the Fleetwing had no knowledge of anything that had happened to him in the “Seaman’s Rest” after he had been struck down at the entrance to the sitting-room by Benjamin ‘Cutcliff. - “My daughter tells me that you found her locked “fas the attic of the house and helped her get away after an exciting conflict with that big ruffian at the window,” said the captain, th a grateful look at the brave boy. “Now I want you to ‘How did you manage to euchre ie scoun- ‘tae skipper and mate of the bark on the other, Sid, ting at one’ Mee Ket gave wu ages account of what he a gone SURE TO GET RICH. Foe See | ne ee ae : : For prudent reasons he omitted from his narrative, for the present, all reference to the captain’s securities, as well as the startling disclosure of Page & Bacon’s duplicity. When he told how he saved Captain Gale’s life by his wit in bringing the boat under the window to receive his uncon- scious body that the villainous lawyer and his accomplice, bent on murder, lowered out of the window, the sKipper and mate of the bark declared it was the nerviest and slickest piece of work they had ever heard of. As for the captain himself, he rose from his seat, grasped Sid by both his hands and declared that he could not find words to express his gratitude. - “And to think that is the second time you saved my life to-day,” he said, with strong emotion in his voice. Jessie didn’t say a word, but if grateful appreciation ever shone in a girl’s eyes it lit up her as they rested on Gra ham’s face, “T will have to get home now,” said Sid, after he had fin. ished his story. “My mother and sisters won't know what has become of me. They haven’t seen me since morning, and I am afraid they will be greatly worried.” “Well, my dear lad, we won’t detain you, then; but I must see you to-morrow, and have a long talk with you, and I am sure Jessie will want to become better acquainted with you. We are going to stop at the Astor House until the Fleetwing 4 docked. -Come there to-morrow night and have dinner with us.” : “Thank you, Captain Gale, I will. And now: let-me return you your pocketbook taken from you by Mr. Sharpley, and which I was fortunate enough to recover. Will you see if any- thing is missing? I’m afraid your money is gone.” The captain opened the pocketbook and found that half of his bills were gone. The half remaining was Mr. Sharpley’s share of the swag which he had returned to the wallet, as he intended to keep the pocketbook himself. When Sid arrived home at three in the morning he found his folks sitting up in a state of nervous excitement over his unusual absence. Of course he had to tell his story, and his mother and sisters wept and hugged him as they realized what a terrible expe- rience he had gone through, and they did not fail to be grate- ful to a Higher Power for his providential escape from the perils he had been brought face to face with. After business next day he visited the Astor House and was shown to Captain Gale’s apartments, He took dinner with the captain and Jessie, who was now more fittingly dressed. The young people were evidently much attracted to ‘each other, and the master of the Fleetwing beamed upon them with satisfaction as he observed it. After returning fromthe dining-room Sid told Captain Gale that he had a most serious and unpleasant disclosure to make to him with reference to his employers, Page & Bacon. “Although I have been with them more than a year and a half, and they have treated me all right, still, after what I heard last night from Mr. Sharpley’s lips, and to which at- tending circumstances give the stamp of truth, I do not feel as if I can remain in the employ of such sharpers any longer than it will take me to get another job.” Whereupon Sid told the captain how Page & Bacon, beliéy- ing him to be dead, had conspired to swindle his daughter Jessie out of the value of the securities which he had deposited in their keeping before he went to sea in the Wanderer, eight years before. “The rascals!” he exclaimed, indignantly. “And I believed them to be honest men. They shall render me an accounting at once. Not an hour longer than I can help shall they re- tain possession of my $136,000 worth of property.” _ Sid judged there would be a scene when the captain de- mandéed his collateral, so he thought it would be advisabie for him to ask Mr. Page for the cash equivalent of the ten Alpha & Omega bonds, worth $1,100, which Captain Gale had requested the broker to give him. ‘Therefore, soon after Mr. Page arrived at the office next morning, Sid went to see him and asked him for his check for the amount involved. “Certainly, Sidney,” replied Mr. Page, in his oily manner, “you shall have the check. I will make it out at once,” and he did so. “I hope you will put this money to good advantage— that is, deposit it in a savings bank and let it accumulate in- in | terest. Tt is 2 lot of money for so young a man as yourself to have. — “Hot” thouglit Sid, “f wonder what he'd say if he Knew I ces nearly, $1,000 the ether, day sa ‘that rise of C. & se Bad

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‘that, with this check Iam worth more than $2,600. Perhaps ‘he and Mr. Bacon would offer to take me into partnership.” Sid got his check cashed at the bank, where he was well _ known, when he went to lunch. “Now I’m going to buy 400 shares of M. C. at 60. I discov- ered the other day that a combination had been formed to boom it, and it’s gone up 5 points since then, which is evi- dence there’s something doing in that road.” So, when he finished his lunch, he went to his bank, drew out $1,300, and adding that to the $1,100, walked into the of- fice of the broker through whom he had worked his C. & D. deal, and put it up as margin on the 400 shares of M. C. That afternoon Captain Gale walked into Page & Bacon’s and surprised the firm by requesting immediate possession of his Alpha & Omega securities. ag They endeavored to talk him out of his purpose, but the Captain was firm. He insisted on having his property, in default of which he threatened exposure of their methods in connection with Mr. Sharpley to defraud his daughter out of what was rightfully hers had he really been dead, as he was supposed to be. pe! “We deny the charge you bring against us, Captain Gale,” ' .eried Mr. Page, in a passion. _ “Yes, sir, we deny it!” said Mr. Bacon, also in a rage. “You “Can prove nothing.” “Don’t be too confident of that,” replied the shipmaster. _ “I received word from the Jersey police before I came here __ that Mr. Sharpley has been arrested. He may find it to his in- _ terest to make an unreserved confession of his business deal- ‘a _ ings with you. If this should appear in the newspapers I’m afraid it would not redound to your advantage, gentlemen.” Page & Bacon were cornered, and they knew it. _ “T hope, Captain Gale, you will give us time to make good the amount due you.. We have suffered from several adverse _ btisiness deals of late, and were compelled to use your col- ‘se _ dateral to saye us from going to the wall. If you push us now _ we shall be forced to make an assignment.” “Well, gentlemen.” said the captain, “I will give you a chance. I am not looking for retaliation for your conduct; I simply desire my rights. As I am not familiar enough with financial matters to enter into an arrangement with you my- _ self, I will put the ma-ter into-the hands of a respectable oa lawyer and let him fix up a settlement on a satisfactory basis.” 7 To this ultimatum Page & Bacon were compelled to agree, and a few days later an arrangement was effected by which ss ‘the brokers paid Captain Gale $50,000 in cash and gave. en- ae ‘dorsed notes for the balance, payable in three, six and nine months from date. _ Captain Gale’s first act after he received the money was to - give his check to Sidney Graham for $10,000. Sid strongly objected, but the doughty shipmaster, having Tmade up his mind that the boy was to have the money, would - mot take nay for an answer. "he had to. surrender or offend the old sea captain so he ac cepted the check. “Things seem to be comifig my way with a rush,” he said to his mother and sister that evening at the supper-table, show- ing them the check. “It’s only a few days ago that the cap- tain gave me ten of his bonds, which Mr. Page took off my hands for $1,100, while the day before that I cleaned up $975 in a stock deal. Now I've got another deal on, this time in M.C. I bought 400 at 60 on a ten per cent. margin, and to-day the stock is selling at 72, with every prospect of further rise. _ So far I am nearly $5,000 ahead. How is that for yours truly? Not so bad, is it?” ' “You are a fortunate boy,” replied his mother, with a smile. “ FS Bae guess I was born under a lucky star.” sn’t it nice to be rich?” remarked his youngest sister, laughing gly. “I suppose among other things that you will buy an ‘automobile and take us out riding.” “No autos for me, sis, just at present. I can use my boodle ) better advantage. If you're dying for a ride,-why,” with a chuckle, “T’ll stake you to a couple of nickels. You can take al + omg adh io to Fort George and back. Nothing mean about e idea!” she cried, tossing her head. r CHAPTER XIil. se JESSIE A MUSICAL WONDER. =a ‘th clahowind Sunday, Captain Edward Gale and his essie were invited to dinner at the Graham home, Gale captivated Sid’s mother and sisters quite as had esc nara the young “man himself. + SURE TO GET RICH. As Jessie added her persuasion in the matter, Sid found | 15 SS Se The girls declared she was just too sweet for anything. Sid made one or two mild kicks because he thought they monopolized too much of Jessie’s society. However, the matter was squared by Sid sitting next to hey during the meal, and he waited on her as if she was a little queen, receiving many sly digs from his sisters as to his lack of appetite, and so forth. Of course, Captain Gale had a great deal to say about the boy who had twice saved his life, and declared he was the finest lad he had ever met. “You must be proud of such a son, Mrs. Graham,” he said, beaming on Sid’s sweet-faced mother. . And Mrs, Graham asked how could she be otherwise. “And you, Captain Gale, you must be equally as proud of your lovely daughter,” she added, with a smile. “Proud of her, ma'am!” he exclaimed, with an affectionate glance at Jessie, who sat on his left. “There aren’t enough words in the English language to express my feelings. Just think, I’ve been away from her eight years. Hight long years, six of which I passed in solitary exile, as it were, on an uncharted island in the Indian Ocean. And all that time I was presumed to be dead—to have gone to the bottom with my ship, which had been struck by a simoon. Jessie never expected to see me again. Mrs. Graham, you haven't the faint- est idea what the dear child suffered at the hands of a scoun- drel whose duty it was to protect and bring her up as her sta- tion in life entitled her to.” “It was very sad,” admitted Sid’s mother. “But now let us hope her trials are all over. Are you going to take her. with you on your next voyage?” “Such at present is my intention, Mrs. Graham. think I could bear to leave her behind me.” A very pleasant evening was spent under the Graham roof- tres on this delightful occasion. t The Graham girls played the piano and sang a duet together, and then Jessie, after some persuasion, was induced to take her seat at the instrument. She had been instructed by an expert, whom drink had brought down in the world. This man picked up a living among the dives of Jersey City as a free-and-easy pianist. He was a wonder in his way, and could make the piano talk. Cutcliff had given him free lodging and all he could drink in exchange for piano lessons for Jessie, and as the: girl pos- sessed a musical nature she soon made rapid progress under his tutorship. He also trained her voice in a small way, as Cutcliff wanted her to amuse his rough-and-ready patrons with the topical songs of the day. Jessie sang several of the popular vaudeville gems and played a number of her tutor’s striking selections, imparting to them the same brilliancy of touch that distinguished her in- structor. Her father, who had had no idea of her proficiency im this” direction, sat in his chair like one entranced, watching her swiftly moving fingers as they flashed with wonderful dex- terity and grace over the ivory keys, and hanging spellbound upon the notes which flowed from her lips—now sweet and — tender, anon lively and sparkling, like bubbling champagne. © In fact, her execution astonished the entire Graham se while her singing captivated them. The day that the ship Fleétwing was docked at a South street wharf, preparatory to unloading her cargo of East In- dian products, Sid Graham sold his 400 shares of M. C. at a profit of $28 per share, or $11,000 in all. f He now had $23,600 to his credit in bank. *t, When he showed Edna Jackson his check the day he revely ed it by mail from his broker, she nearly fell off her chair. ‘ “I’ve read in story-books about boys making a lot of money in this scheme and that,” she said, “but I never dreamet [ should run across a real live boy who could do the same thing. © It seems to me, Sidney Graham, no matter what you take held of you're bound to win.” ste, “Sure thing. That’s what'I’m in business for.” “T don’t think there’s another boy like you in New Yor * she said, admiringly. tet “That’s a compliment, for a fact. Will you permit me to 5 biow roe off to a real Delmonico lunch this time?” dear, no!” she answered, hastily. “Wouldn't I look a sight marching into that tony establishment with my working | garments on. If you’re so very anxious to spend some vor y wealth on me,” she laughed, Toguishly, “we'll go “bes I don’t went before.” A 2 “All ‘right, Edna. You're the doctor.” — ote i

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: ,. : i 16 . SURE TO GET RICH. “Do you know, Sid, I’m just dying’ to see your new friend Jessie Gale.” “Ts that a fact?” he asked, with a grin. “Yes. Your mother and the girls say she’s the dearest thing on earth.” .. . “If she isn’t, I don’t know where you'll find one.” “Oh, my; you say.that so earnestly that I’m afraid it’s a case of spoons with you in that direction.” “Ob, I don’t know,” replied Sid, flushing to his temples. “A fellow can admire a girl without being stuck on her, can’t he?” “After what you have done for both her and her father, I shouldn’t be surprised if Jessie and you made a match of it.” “I wouldn’t run away with that idea in your head. You might be disappointed.” “Wouldn’t that be dreadful!” she laughed, tantalizingly. “Not half as dreadful as if you should happen to marry that dude, Chester Hay, who’s calling on you pretty regularly, I understand.” “The idea!” gasped Edna, with a rosy blush. “What’s the matter with Mr. Hay? His mother says he’s the flower of the family.” “T guess that’s right,” grinned Sid. people call him a blooming idiot.” “Sidney Graham, aren’t you ashamed of yourself?’ cried the girl, with a trace of indignation in her voice. “Well, I'll tell you something about that bracelet he pre- sented you with. He got it of a Maiden Lane jeweler.” “How do you know where he bought it?” she asked, with a toss 6f the head. , “TI was in the store buying something for mother and the girls when he came in. He asked to see some bracelets, se- lected the one I’ve seen you wear at our house, and then said to the salesman: ‘Are you sure it’s made of refined gold? Because, don’tcherknow, I detest anything that isn’t refined.’ ” Pr te: Graham, I won’t speak to you for a whole week, so ere!” “Oh, yes, you will,” he replied, confidently. going to lunch with me in five minutes?” “Well, you oughtn’t to talk that way about Mr. Hay,” with a pout. -~ 2 “What shall I say about him to please you? That he’s the most immaculate of all the clerks in Wall Street?” “That's better.” “Ho's the best-dressed employee in the financial district, I guess. I heard a broker say he was so immaculate that he didn’t believe there was anything on his mind, even.” Edna grabbed her ruler, but Sid fled to the reception-room to wait till she had put on her hat and coat. “T’ve heard several “Aren't you CHAPTER XIV. LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM. On the first of the month Sid Graham left the employ of Page & Bacon. cs He gave them a week’s notice of his intention, and Mr. Page expressed regret at losing his valuable services. Edna Jackson was very sorry to see him go. . It had been his original intention to get another position, but his success in working the stock market, and possession of a capital of $23,000 odd, decided him to set up in business for himself. He knew he couldn’t expect to get more than $10 a week working for somebody else, and he believed he could do better than that hustling for himself. owes 2g be young, but he had a bright head on his shoul- Ts. j ¢ He was well acquainted wits the ins and outs of Wall Street, and with the methods of the brokers who-did business on the ‘Stock Exchange, so he felt confident he could hoe his own row without anybody's help. ; “A fellow doesn’t get rich these strenuous times renting his gray matter out for small wages,” he said to himself. [ve made $12,000. of my capital since the Fourth of July by ising my brains. That ought to be some evidence that I have ability. At any rate, I’m going to branch out on my own hook id see what I'can do. I don’t expect to do any business to < ef for some little time, but I'm-going to let people ind this neighborhood know I'm alive. I’m young and can ‘ford to wait. When a boy like me sets out with the deter- mination to succeed, ‘he’s bound to win in the end.” So Sid hired a small office up on the ten floor of a Broad! regard for him. Sa SRS TR NS Sa ae TN od street building, and hung out his shingle—that is, he had his name and calling lettered on the ground-glass front of his office door as follows: SIDNEY GRAHAM, Stocks and Bonds. He regarded it with complacency, and no longer looked upon himself as a boy. : He furnished his office with a neat rug, a roll-top desk, three chairs, and hung a map of the financial district and several steel engravings on the walls. Then he had a small safe put in to make it look more busi- ness-like, though he really had nothing to put in it. The next thing he did was to subscribe for a couple of Wall Street papers—one a daily—and to purchase a number of books and pamphlets he needed ip his business. After that he went to*a stationer and printer in the same block, purchased the necessary stationery and books, and gave an order for cards, memorandums and letter-heads to be printed with his name, business and address upon them. “That’s off my mind. Now I’ll go down and pay a visit to the Fleetwing.” - Whether he was particularly anxious to see Captain Gale or not we cannot say, but the fact that he was sure to meet Jessie Gale aboard probably had a bearing on the case. The captain and his daughter, with the chief mate, were just sitting down to dinner when he arrived on deck, and, of course, a place was at once made for him at the table. “I’m mighty glad you.turned up, Sid. We were just talking about you.” ; “Well, you see, I had nothing particular to do this afternoon, so I thought I’d come down and see you.” “that’s right,” said the captain. “You're as welcome as the flowers in May.” “Thanks. I’ve just hired and furnished an office on Broad street and gone into business for myself,” said Sid, after the soup-plgtes had been removed and a joint of roast mutton had been brought in by the steward. ; The master of the ship and his daughter looked up in sur- prise. “Have you actually done that?” asked Captain Gale. “Yes, sir. I’ve done so well working side issues during the last six months that I’ve concluded I’d only be wasting my time devoting my energies to the benefit of other people at a comparatively insignificant wage. If there’s anything in me I want to reap the full benefit myself. That’s the only way to get ahead in life.” “I think you're right, Sid. At any rate, I’m willing to be _ eve, from what I’ve seen of you, that you're fully capable of . making your own way in the world, You'll be a rich man some day.” “I hope so, sir. Riches are not everything in this life, I know, but it’s a very comfortable reflection to feel that one is well off. It takes off the rough edge, don’t you know.” “Well, I hope you'll let me be your first customer,” said the captain, with a twinkle in his eye. “TI should be glad to have you,” replied the boy, in some surprise. “Are you really thinking of taking a shy at the market?” “Oh, no; but I dare say you can be of great assistance to me in placing the $50,000 I have recovered from Page & Bacon, as well as the balance of the money due me when it shall have been collected by my lawyer.” “Yes, sir, I think I can. It would give me a great deal of pleasure to help you in any way I can.” . “’m sure of that, my dear boy. You are fairly well ac- quainted with the best securities dealt in in Wall Street, I dare say.” “TI am. Page & Bacon do a considerable business in that line, and I was with them nearly two years.” “Well, I want you to submit to me a list of gilt-edged bonds, other than Governments, which, in your opinion, would offer a good investment for my money. I have $50,000 to start you off with, and I shall instruct my lawyer to pay over to you the money as he collects it from Page & Bacon, and which I shall look to you to invest for me according to your best judgment. As I shall probably be away on my next voyage at least eighteen months, you will have to collect the interest as it becomes due and payable and deposit it in a safe bank to my credit.” : 7 “You show a gocd deal of confidence in me, Captain Gale,” said Sid, almost overpowered by this evidence of the captain’s

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oR SR SE TI IE “My dear boy, I haven’t the slightest hesitation in trusting you with the care of every dollar I possess in the world. I know you are honest as the day is long. My property will be just as safe in your keeping as if locked up in a safe on board this ship.” “I thank you, Captain Gale, for this expression of your good opinion of me,” replied Sid, gratefully. “You may be sure I will lose my life before I would do anything to forfeit your. confidence.” After dinner Sid sat on the quarter-deck with Jessie until the afternoon sun sank out of sight and the shadows began to render distant objects indistinct. pets seemed to be very happy and contented in each other’s “So you are really going to sea with your father on his next yoyage, are you, Jessie?” he asked, earnestly. “Yes,” she answered softly, looking down at the deck. “Of course, you are glad?” “Yes,” she answered, again. “T hope you will think of me sometimes while you are away, Jessie,” he said, taking her fingers in his. She made no reply, but her face flushed, and the tears started into her eyes. OE don’t answer. Am I expecting too much of you, Jes- As she still remained silent, Sid looked into her sweet face and saw that her lips were quivering. He could feel her hand tremble in his. “I shall miss you very much,” he said, gently. His arm stole about her waist. “I have learned to care a great deal for you, from the very moment I saw you spring into your father’s arms in the bar- room of the ‘Seaman’s Rest.’ -I knew you were a good girl, and I felt ready to go through fire and water, if need be, for your sake as well as for your father’s.” “Oh, Sid!” And as her head drooped Sid Graham drew her lithe form unresistingly to him, and then, how he came to muster up courage to do it he never knew, he lifted her face to his and— kissed her. “Do you really care for me a little bit, Jessie?” he asked, as his breath fanned her golden ringlets. “You know I do, Sid.” : “And you promise not to forget me when you are hundreds of miles away?” She buried her face on his shoulder. He accepted that as a favorable answer. _ “And some day when we are both a little older you are go- ing to be my little wife, aren’t you?” There was a pause. He lifted her head and looked down into her beautiful eyes. “Am I asking too much?” “No, Sid. I promise. I love you with all my heart.” Was he satisfied? Well, say! CHAPTER XV. SID GETS IN ON THE GROUND FLOOR. Sid’s first callers at his Broad street office were his mother and sisters, whose curiosity could not be satisfied until they had come downtogn to see his sheep-shearing den, as he called it. “What a delightfully cosy little pjace you have!” exclaimed " Maud Graham. “It is just too nice for anything,” agreed her sister Millie. “You are quite a man of business, aren’t you?” went on Maud. “It’s a pity you haven't a mustache, Sid. You do look so young for a real broker.” “Oh, come now, Maud, you can’t expect a fellow to have everything all at once,” protested Sid. “I’m glad you have three chairs, at any rate,” laughed Millie, “or one of us would have been obliged to roost on your safe. ” “No reflections, please,” chuckled her brother. - “Certainly not. I leave that to the looking-glass.” _. “How bright we are all at once!” .. “Just like the morning, why don’t you say while you're about it?” _*Oh, my, » Just then 7 3 1 Bed 2 was a knock on the door. SURE. TO GET RICH. 17 Sid walked cver and »spened it. Captain Gale and Jessie walked in. ; “You've got a full house,” laugned the captain, after he an his daughter had shaken hands all around and expressed the pleasure they felt in meeting Mrs. Graham and the girls once more. “Yes. I don’t think I could squeeze many more in here,” grinned Sid. Maud perched herself on the window-sill and Millie climbed onto the safe so the captain and Jessie could sit down. “We came down to see my son’s office,” exclained Mrs. Gra- ham, with a smile. “He’s got a very nice one,” said Captain Gale, looking around the little room. “A sort of sky parlor,” put in Sid. “Do you think anybody will come away up here to do busi- ness with you?” asked Maud, laughingly. “l’m not worrying about that just yet.” “Well, I’ve come up here to do a little business with him, so it is possible others will as soon as he becomes known,” said the captain. “Well, if you’ve come to talk business,” said Maud, “I guess we'll take our leave.” “Don’t be in a hurry. sis,” interposed her brother. “Oh, we’ve seen all there is to be seen. Now we can rest easy.” “Won’t you come up and spend the day with us, Jessie?” asked Mrs. Graham. “Sid will take you home this evening.” Jessie looked at her father. “Go right along, Jessie, if you want to.” “Now, Captain Gale, you'll let her stay all night with us, won't you?” asked Maud, coaxingly. “Sid will escort her back to your ship in the morning when he comes down to business.” “Won’t you come to dinner yourself, Captain Gale?” said Mrs. Graham. The captain, however, declared he would like to accept the invitation, but he had business aboard the Fleetwing which prevented him availing nimself of the pleasure. He had no objection, however, to his daughter staying with the Grahams overnight. Mrs. Graham and the giris stayed a little while longer; then tHey took their departure, carrying Jessie with them. As soon as Sid and the captain were alone together, the boy produced a list of first-class securities, and they went over them carefully, Sid explaining the advantages of each in turn. Captain Gale picked out a first, second and third choice, drew his check for $50,000 to the boy’s order, and told him to make the purchases. Sid suggested that the captain rent a box in a safe deposit vault, where all his securities could be locked up. “You can arrange with the officers to have me recognized as your representative, with authority to have access to your box) while you’re away,,so that I can cut off the coupons and col- lect the interest.” That was perfectly satisfactory to the master of the Fleet- wing, and the plan was immediately carried out. Sid had his lunch about two o’clock and then went directly to his office, where he busied himself with stock market re- ports and financial news in a Wall Street newspaper. At four o’clock he shut up his desk, put on his hat and over- coat and left his office for the day. While he was waiting for the elevator two gentlemen, one of whom he recegnized as a well-known broker, canie up and stopped near him. Sid, however, happened to be standing in the shadow of a big marble column which ran up to the ceiling between two of the elevators, and his presence was apparently unnoticed by the newcomers. ‘ ; They were talking very earnestly as they came up, and Sid heard the broker say: “I tell you, Edward, you can’t make any mistake if you put all you can beg, borrow or steal into C. & O. right away. The stock is certain to boom before Saturday,-because what I’ve just told you about the Ilcng-contemplated merger will be pub- lic property by this time to-morrow, and just as soon as the news is confirmed there’ll be a rush for the stock. It will be a case where everybody will suddenly discover they want to get in.on the ground floor, or as near that as possible, and you know what that will mean. The stock is selling now at the lowest figure in years. The people on.the inside have already started their brokers to pick up all in sight. If you are going to take advantage of this pointer I’m giving you, why, you've no time to lose.” : f 3 ‘ SF “| a

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- . 4 4 cr, eSBs Just then the elevator the floor. The two stirred. The iron door slammed and the cage went on down. Sid then returned to his office and sat down to think the “Matter out. He had heard every word the broker said, and the value of the pointer impressed him considerably. Taking up the latest edition of the Daily Wall Street News he saw that C. & O. was quoted at 63, which was an excep- tionally low price for the stock. z . By George! I believe I have stdmbled on to the chance of my life—at any rate, I am satisfied I have caught on to a good thing. I should be a fool to let such luck get by me. I can easily put up a ten per cent. margin on 3,500 shares. Well, if the stock is to be got I’m going to get it. If it only goes up 3 points I shall be in line to clear $1,000. That would pay all iny office expenses for a year. You can bet your life I’m in on this deal for all it’s worth.” And he was, for next morning he went to the bank where his money was on deposit and arranged with the gentleman whose business it was to make purchases of stock through the bank's brokers for customers of the bank, to buy for him 3,500 shares of C.& O. at 63. The required amount was secured in small lots before noon, and the bank notified to that effect, which in turn duly in- formed Sid that his order had been carried out, and that the stock would be held subject to his instructions, came rushing down and stopped at gentlemen immediately boarded it, but Sid never CHAPTER XVI. HOW, IN THE END, PLUCK AND AMBITION IS BOUND TO WIN. Sid had once more acquired a personal interest in the mar- ket, and he watched C. & O. with a feverish interest, He also scanned the papers closely for some official intelli- gence as to the completion of the long-distance merger of a branch railroad to the coal fields which the management of C. & O. had so far failed to bring to a head. From what he had heard the broker say to his friends he believed the deal had been put through at last, and that the news was being held back as long as possible to enable those on the inside to prepare to reap a golden harvest. And he was right. The early editions of the afternoon Papers on the day he bought the stock printed the news, and predicted a boom in C, & O. in consequence. ‘Next morning the stock opened at 64 3-8, and the brokers had buying orders for it by the wholesale, . While Sid was hugging himself over his good luck, a man from the district-attorney’s office in Jersey City walked into his office and served him with a subpena to appear and testify ' at the trial of Samuel Sharpley, slated for the following Mon- y. He immediately put on his hat and coat and started for South street. 3 ~ On boarding the Fleetwing he found, as he supposed, that Captain Gale and Jessie had been similarly served. “We'll all go over together,” said the captain. “There isn’t Mauch doubt that my late wife’s half-brother will be convicted of the crime charged against him. He will, in all probability, serve the rest of his natural life in State’s prison,” - When Sid, accompanied by the captain and his daughter, ‘started for Jérsey City on Monday morning, he was feeling in excellent spirits, for C. & O. stock, in which he had such ‘a vital interest, had gone up to 70, an advance of 7 points - pbove what the boy had bought it for. — : - The trial of Lawyer Sharpley resulted, as was expected, in _. his conviction, and the judge handed out to him the extreme “penalty of the law—twenty years. Next day he put on a striped suit at the Trenton Peniten- _ tiary, and thereafter became dead to the world. _ Singular to relate, the evening papers of the same day an- _Mounced the killing of Benjamin Cutcliff in a low Philadelphia _ rum-hole, by a companion, with whom he had engaged in a ee 4 q { Thus the community was well rid of two consciénceless ras- SURE TO GET RICH. | — —aaoQquouoaoaoaoaoeee ey As often as he felt he could afford to sneak away from his Broad street office, Sid made a bee-line for the vessel. He hated to think that he would soon have to part from Jessie Gale, and that he could hardly expect to see her again for the better part of two years. One day, when C. & O. stock had reached 82, and Sid felt particularly good over the prospects of a still higher rise in the road’s securities, he went down to the ship, buttonholed Captain Gale, and, taking the buil by the horns, so to speak, frankly told the shipmaster what his sentiments were toward his daughter, and what Jessie’s were toward himself and asked for a verdict. : He got it, and it was as favorable as he could have expected. The captain said he had no objection to him as a prospective son-in-law; in fact, was rather pleased to regard him in that light, “Tt will be eighteen months before you young people will meet again—it may even be as long as two years. Jessie will then be seventeen, and you will have cast your first vote. If you are both still of the same mind, I shall offer no objection to your marriage.” “Thank you, sir. I am perfectly satisfied,” and he went off to find Jessie and tell her what her father had said about their future. It was a sad night for both when the inevitable parting came, The Fleetwing was anchored in the upper bay near the en-" trance to the “Narrows,” and was to sail at four in the morn- ing for the East Indies. Sid had come down to Staten Island by ferry and hired a boat to take him out to the ship. “Good-by, little sweetheart,” he said, when the time came for him to take his leave. “Two years isn’t so very long, after all, but you may be certain you will be in my thoughts every hour of the time.” : ‘ “You won't let any other girl take you away from me, will you, Sid? Promise me that, for I love you with all my heart, and I should want to die if I lost you.” Of course he promised to be faithful and true, and a few minutes later he tore himself away and went over the ship’s side. He felt rather broke up over this separation from Jessie, but it was unavoidable, and like the sensible fellow he was he put the best face on the matter. If there was one thing that helped to take the keen edge off the parting pain it was the knowledge that that day he had sold his C. & O. holdings at a profit of $40 and a fraction a share, and had reaped a profit of $140,000. Altogether he was now worth $164,000, and could reasonably be regarded as rich. He set aside the sum of $5,000 to buy a house out of town for his mother and sisters and, of course; himself to live in. This he proposed to attend to in the spring, and in due time earried out his plans. eh By that time he had become pretty fell known as a smart young broker, and business gradually began to come his way, especially after he moved to a more commodious office on a lower floor of the Broad street building. One morning, a year aud ten months from the day the Fieet- wiag sailed out of New York harbor, she was reported in the Herald’s maritime inteiligence as having just arrived at Quarantine, ; Sid at once hired a tug to take him down to her. He found a very beautiful young lady aboard of her who an- swered to the name of Jessie Gale, and™the meeting of the two sweethearts was a matter of’ decided interest to them- selves. xd F That Sidney Graham nor Jessie Gale had not changed their minds in relation to each other was demonstrated six weeks later, when a minister of the Gospel joined them together in the bonds of matrimony. Sid presented his bride with a check for $100,000, and-the title deeds of a beautifui suburban home which had cost him $15,000. P He had become rich entirely by his own business sagacity, and any boy possessing the pluck and ambition of Sidney Graham is, nine times out of ten, Bound to Win. Next week’s issue will contain “PUSHING IT THROUGH; OR, THE FATE OF A LUCKY BOY.” SEND POSTAL FOR OUR FREE CATALOGUE.

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FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. + 19 Childish curiosity on the part of Anna Parks, three old, of Sharon, Pa., was indirectly responsible for death of her six-months-old sister, Helen Parks. Anna ived a doll for Christmas and smashed it to see what inside, One of the glass eyes rolled on the floor. Picking it up she gave it to the baby, who placed it in her mouth. She swallowed it and it lodged in her throat. The child died of strangulation. iH: A deaf and dumb girl, who represented herself to be from Danville, Ill., visited Brazil, Ind., recently, soliciting charity. She carried a well-worn document, | and several MIEN cp Pe aE eM PRT Ste. On LR EAM NATE ARNT ys at iy & Pe § po TT fu FI 5 o ~~] 5 =F r & — 38 = ic} aby & = BE. oO 5 8 Ed. be bestowed. She did well until she stepped on a door mat at the office of Dr. Robert Hawkins. The mat was equipped with an electric buzzer. The young lady was so _ startled by this buzzer that she jumped and shouted “Oh!” Before the police could arrest her she had taken an inter- é ear for towns that have no buzzer under the door - . ‘mats. 3 - The chicken which Indiana Donelson, colored, No. 606 "Fourth avenue South, Nashville, Tenn., purchased for dinner recently was more extraordinary than the “prover- bial billygoat,” which is said to be able to masticate - everything, from a tin can up. When dressing the chicken “and on cutting open the gizzard Indiana found a woman’s stocking therein. After making this discovery she de- “eided to forego the pleasure of chicken for dinner and had ~ to change her menu, The chicken was purchased by her ES son-in-law, Stephen Nelson, who was here from Chicago. _ The chicken appeared to be getting thin and it was thought : that the stocking had proved too much for its digestive ie organs, though there were signs of its beginning to dis- a integrate. oni 4.5 ee ee pent The pet dog of Mrs. T. B. Loniger, No. 3123 Olive avenue, Sacramento, Cal., qualified for a Carnegie medal * when he saved the life of "his owner and her mother, after _ they had been overcome by gas fumes from a stove in _ which lamp black was being burned. Mrs. Loniger was _ awakened at 3 o’clock the other morning by the dog jump- _ ing on her bed arid whining. He then ran into the room where her mother was sleeping. Mrs.;Loniger followed and found her mother unconscious on the floor. Mrs. - Loniger fell unconscious while trying to revive her mother. _ The dog then ran to the room of J. Rice, a cousin, and S geced him. Rice fell from the gas fumes in the room - where the women lay, but opened all the doors and win- base and called a doetor. The women were revived. pts Sa cee Rabe Very few persons—even those who are well-informed on _ most matters—know how much an inch of rain is. The _ average ian.or woman preey has an idea that’ an inch \ eee Oe ae caliber Mauser rifle. CURRENT NEWS of rain is a mere trifle on Nature’s-part. This is en- tirely wrong. In reality it is a good big rainfall—more than falls in most places in an average week. It is five times more rain than fell in New York City during the forty-six days which ended on October 15 last, but that was the longest dry period in the history of the local © weather bureau. A rainfall of one inch means literally that the amount of water deseending in a particular shower would cover the surrounding territory to a depth of one inch, providing it did not run away or soak into the ground. An inch of rain coming down on 4 single acre of land would fill more than 600 barrels of forty-five gallons capacity each. This amount of water would weigh more than 110 tons, or nearly a quarter of a million pounds. The French army carries the Lebel magazine rifle of 315 caliber, which fires a pointed bullet made of copper and zine composition and weighing 198 grains. The Lee- Enfield .303 caliber rifle is used by both the cavalry and infantry of the English forces. The bullet weighs 215 gTains with a muzzle velocity of 2,000 feet per second. The English gun is three feet eight and one-half inches in length, while the French is four feet three and one- eighth inches. The Russian arm is the “three-lined” Nu- gent, .300 caliber rifle, which is four feet three and seven- eighth inches long. The Belgians are armed with the .301 It is four feet two and one-quarter inches long. Germany uses the .311 caliber Mauser rifle, which is four feet and one-quarter inch in length. Aus- tria~Hungary equips its troops with the Mannlicher rifle of .315 caliber. The gun is four feet two inches long. The Russian “three-line” Nugent has an effective ae of 2,096 feet. -. ¥ The opinion is rapidly gaining ground in baseball cir-. — cles that the twenty-one-player rule in major leagues will. never be serionsly enforced. This regulation would require an enrollment somewhat along the follow- ing lines: Pitchers, $; catchers, 4; infielders, 5; outfield- ers, 4. At the beginning of the 1913 season the American League clubs’ rosters contained the following number of — players: Athletics, 29; Washington, 25; Cleveland, 26; Boston, 25; Chicago, 31; Detroit, 30; New York, 25; St. Louis, 29. The National League list was about the same. A number of the clubs require strengthening before the opening of next season if they gre to be drawing cards and money-makers. Almost without exception these clubs have a large percentage of their present squad under con- tracts which cannot be ignored. How they are to be re- lieved of those players not wanted and where desirable and seasoned new material is to be secured and carried under the twenty-one-plaver rule is something that is keeping maanagers and magnates awake these nights.

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- a <= E 5 % FAME AND FORTUNE (WEEKLY. THE GALLANT TROOPER —— OR —— FIGHTING FOR UNCLE SAM By GASTON GARNE (A SERIAL STORY) CHAPTER XXIII (continued) Vivian could look at the glorious sunlight now without shuddering, without thinking it was for the last time, and Captain Noble was even happier over the fact that his good name had been cleared than the boy was himself. “Pomp, you black rascal, why didn’t you come to the rescue before?” Gen. Scarlett in his own quarters asked sternly an hour later, although his eyes had a twinkle in them. “Do you know, sir, that you came very near being too late? Vivian Merle’s life would have been sacrificed had you delayed another moment. What were you doing? At my brandy again?” “No, sah, doan’ you remembah, sah, dat you shut de ole man up in de little gnardhouse?” Pomp replied with a grin that showed every tooth in his head. “You guv him de wust lickin’ dat he evah had in all his life. Golly, Massa Scarlett, but dat ere strap am got buckles all ober it. I ’clare dat I can’t sit down fur a week ter come.” “And. the next time that I catch you drunk again I won't leave a whole bone in your black carcass,” the gen- eral roared at him. “Now get out and see if you can do something besides getting drunk. Mind, I am in earnest this time. Do you understand ?” f “Yes, sah, 5 understands, sah, and I’]l_ remembah it, *deed and *deed I will, Massa Scarlett,” Pomp answered with a low bow. “And you won’t catch de ole man drunk agin, sah. “Cause he’s gwine ter lay low whar you can’t see him,” he added in sotto voce, as he left the room. “The black imp! I felt like taking him by the hand for saving the boy’s life,” the grim old general muttered with a smile. “I never felt so badly about anything in my entire career as a soldier. And those two villains were _ at the bottom of it all.” Diana was surprised when a message came from Genera! Scarlett, that he wished to see ae at once. She obeyed, - trembling with dread.’ “Can it be that he suspects me of being a girl?” she _ asked herself. Such an idea, however, never entered the general’s mind, _ and Diana felt very much relieved the moment she entered and saw his face. But the door had hardly closed behind her, when there came another tap on the panels, and in to General Scarlett’s impatient “come in,” to Diane’ s great distress, who should enter but Clarence Ken- yi * dal! In speechless amazement, General Scarlett stared from ene to the other, and Clarence Kendal looked at his double, wondering what it meant, for he did not recognize Diana. “The deuce!” burst from the general’s lips; “what does this mean?” “Tt means, General Scarlett, that I have outgrown my cowardice, and have come to join the regiment. I have shown the white feather long enough,” Clarence Kendal answered quietly. “Who are you?” Gen. Scarlett asked, more astonished than ever. “T am Clarence Kendal,” was the reply. “That cannot be true, for this is Clarence Kendal,” pointing to Diana. “It—it is true,” came very faintly from poor. Diana’s lips. “He is Clarence Kendal.” “And who the devil are you then?” the gruff old gen- eral roared. “You young villain, what do you mean by stealing another man’s name, and passing yourself off on the regiment as Clarence Kendal? By heavens, sir, I have a good mind to have you stripped and flogged within an inch of your life!” This terrible threat terrified Diana so that she forgot the part.she had been playing for so long. She forgot that she was a soldier, and she burst into tears. Sobbing bit- terly, a very unusual thing for a young gentleman who, on more than of occasion, had proved himself a hero, she thrust her hand within her bosom to get her handkerchief, and as she drew it forth, a small, bright object fell to the floor, and Gen. Scarlett saw it. A second glance, and with a low ery he bent down and picked it up. It was a tiny heart-shaped locket of gold, with-the letter A in small rubies, set on the outside. In the center was a diamond. ‘“Where—where did you get this?” he asked hoarsely, looking at Diana, the locket clutched tightly in his trem- bling hand. ; “T have had it all my life,” she answered, and then a slight ery of surprise burst from the real Clarence Kendal. “Why, I have one exactly like it,” pulling it out of hits pocket as he spoke. “That is strange.” “Let me see it.” The words coming from General Scarlett’s lips were so low, so husky that they could hardly be heard, and he opened the locket Clarence gave him first. Both he and Diana moved closer to the general in order to see what it contained that could affect him so, and they soon knew. It was a likeness of himself, taken perhaps twenty years before. “Why, Gen. Scarlett, that is your picture when you were younger!” exclaimed Clarence. i

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Gen. Scarlett made no monty save to open the locket os ana had dropped Tnside was the picture of a young and beautiful woman, who bore a striking likeness to Diana. _ “That must be my mother’s picture,” she said, softly, forgetting her recent terror, “though Madam Le Grand hever told me. In fact, she never knew. I do not know who my parents were.” & “I know who your parents were,” and Gen. Scarlett’s “Voice was husky with emotion. “Fate has ordained that I ‘8h hould meet my children again after eighteen long years. ‘The children who were stolen from me by an enemy when . hey were infants. At least, I know that one of them is “here. Which one, I cannot say, however, for my babes were a boy and a girl—while both of you are boys. There 8 some mystery about it I am not able to understand.” : “There is no mystery, Gen. Scarlett,’ Diana answered, ‘her cheeks burning, “for I—I am a girl.” _ “The devil!” and the general stared at her in amaze- nt, then he broke into a hearty laugh, as the truth hed through his brain. “Well, you are the best soldier 4d ever met. And that sly dog Noble was in the scheme, ! Well. I ought to get down on my knees to him for his deceit, heaven bless him!” _ We will pass over that happy meeting between father and long lost children, and as the bluff old man folded his daughter to his heart, his tears falling upon her face, she said softly : . Es, I was fighting for my own dear father and brother, $s well as Uncle Sam,” and with a sigh of content, “I be- long to some one at last. I am not nameless.” _ “No, my dear child, you are Alice Scarlett, and your : other Arthur may well be proud+of his sister,” the gen- eT ‘replied,.“for you are the pluckiest girl upon earth !” ee CHAPTER XXIV. E BOW OUR HEADS IN REVERENCE BEFORE CUSTER, OUR SLAIN HERO.” _ Sunshine and happiness cannot always rule the world. e dreary rain must fall, and sorrow, the chief inherit- e of the human heart, must be meted out to each one as fate wills it. Sometimes it is with a lavish hand, again but sparingly To Charlie Root and Manuel de Garcia it seemed that they had more than their share of the unwelcome offering, it was only what they richly deserved. \t sunrise the next morning, with uniforms stripped of button and their heads closely shorn, the pair were rched slowly around a hollow circle formed of soldiers, presented the points of their bayonets to them. Close nd them followed the drum corps, and the muffled nd of “The Rogue’s March” filled the air with doleful s. If Vivian Merle had wished for revenge, he must e been well satisfied. Instead, however, he was sorry the wretched pair of sinners, and if he had his own he would have given them their liberty, with the cod old true bidding that, coming from lips divine, should be spoken oftener than it is: “Go, thou, in peace, and Sin no more.” FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. — : es “T would far rather have a hundred bullets sent into my, body than be forced to endure such bitter humiliation,” Vivian said to Captain Noble when it was all over with, and the sun had kissed the dew from leaf and shrub. “Tt is a coward’s punishment, my boy, and no true sol- dier ever meets with such a punishment,” the captain re- plied. “It is only what they deserve, and but for old Pomp, heaven bless him, yon would have been shot as ai traitor.” Vivian could not answer, for a great lump swelled in his throat, and he turned away his head. It is safe to add that General Scarlett was the happiest man in all the world that day. And later, when he found Vivian Merle and his daughter, in a secluded corner of; the garrison, engaged in earnest conversation, the young ., lady’s head suspiciously near the gallant trooper’s manly, shoulder, he drew his saber, saying fiercely: “Look here, young sir, if you.go on stirring up a mutiny, against your commanding officer, I'll throw you both-into: the guardhouse and keep you there for a week on bread). and water. Remember, sir, that I command this division . ——of two—for the next three years. I believe that was the agreement we reached a couple of hours ago, was it not? . - After that, if you choose to enlist under petticoat govern-, ment, as you said this morning, and allow that young damsel to command you through life, I have nothing more! - to do with it.. But for three years you must obey me.” _ “Couldn’t you cut it down to two years, or even a year, and a half, sir?” vivian asked, as the general’ paused, “Be- cause you see——” “Tut. tut, young man, you do not live up to your agree- ment. There’s to be no shirking duty, you know. . Three; years you have got to serve, and then Ill give you an): ° honorable discharge to: go and make a fool of youn *g with a chuckle as he marched out of the room. Ah, these were happy, never to-be-forgotten days at the, garrison to both Vivian and Alice as we must now call her.’ In spite of the danger that surrounded them, they were wildly, blissfully happy. And then like a thunderbolt came the news, brought in by one wounded, bleeding messenger, the sole survivor, that the gallant Custer and his noble band were surrounded! by Indians among the desolate hills and were being mur- | dered. And how quickly the troopers responded. The! — wounded man was taken in and tenderly cared for, and in! * a few moments the soldiers were galloping furiously i in the direction where the brave hero was fighting for his life.” Vivian Merle was among the foremost riders, and enieg him and Captain Noble rode the girl who would not Te- main at the garrison. She was the true daughter of a brave soldier and her blood was fired at the thought of - Custer being in danger. She flatly refused to obey her= ~ father’s orders to remain at the garrison, and before He ‘*— had any idea of her intentions, she was in the uniform and ~ mounted on her way to the battle-field. The old general ~ frowned at her, but secretly he was delighted. “By gad, sir, she ought to have been a boy,” he said te ~ Captain Noble. “She would: jhave made the greatest gen- eral the world has ever seen.’ (To be edticscas

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FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. FACTS WORTH READING 21 BATTLESHIPS TO PARADE. According to tentative plans of the Navy Department a fleet of twenty-one battleships, twenty-three torpedo boat old battleship Oregon and Dewey’s flagship at Manila, the destroyers and Scrteca auxiliary vessels, in addition to the Olympie, will participate in the celebration next March of the opening of the Panama Canal. It is not yet known whether the review will take place in Gatun Lake, halfway through the canal, or in the har- bor of Panama on the Pacific side. days to get the assembled vessels locked through the canal, so that the original idea of a parade to be reviewed as it passed through the canal has been given up. Secretary Daniels wants to abandon the proposed naval review at Hampton Roads because there will be practically no foreign re ‘presentation owing to the war. Senator Swan- son, of Vi irginia, however, has served notice on the Secre- tary that the law provides for the review at Hampton Roads, which is near Norfolk, Va., and that he doubts if Congress will‘consent to such change. Mr. Daniels would have the fleet spend the time thus saved in further exer- cises at Guantanamo and proceed directly thence to Panama, TO RAISE MUSKRATS AND MINKS. IN ’ WISCONSIN. a E. Reeves & Co. have started what promises to be one of the first muskrat and mink farms in Fond du Lac County, Wis. ‘The plot selected is a tract of marsh land =. of thirteen acres in size and is situated between Fond du "Tae and North Fond du Lac on the east side of the gtreet ear line and north of the Princeton tracks. Three workmen are now busily engaged in constructing a fence that will reach to the bottom of the marsh and is ' ~ for the purpose of keeping the rats. within the bounds. . Aecording to a statement issued by J. E. Reeves it is the ~ plan of the company to build a house next spring on the “farm” for the keeper. At present there are 150 rat St: houses on the place inclosed, “The present plans of the company are not to disturb apy of the rats until the “farm” has been established about one and a half to two years. trap. rats on the marsh for the past fifteen years and had not demanded an indemnity. At. present several signs Pa bearing the inscription “no trespassing” have been placed at various conspicuous places. FAMOUS WAR HORSES. "No man has a greater regard and love for his horse than Lord Kitchener, and when his equestrian statue was being erected in Calcutta, he told the sculptor that it was hot necessary for him to worry so much about the likeness of ah ~ himeelf as to be quite sure that he did full justice to Dem- ee _ et his favorite charger. Tt will take several | Mr. Reeves also stated that he had allowed trappers to. At the Royal United Service Institute are to be seen — the remains of Napoleon’s famous white stallion, Ma-_ Tengo. Copenhagen, it might be mentioned, was the grandson. of the mighty Eclipse, and, Wellington paid $2,000 for him. His powers of endurance were marvelous. “I rode P him,” said Wellington, “at the Battle of Waterloo from 4 — in the morning until midnight. If he fed, it was in the © standing corn, and as I sat in the saddle.” Another of Napoleon’s war steeds was Jaffa, buried at Glastonbury; while the last horse used by the Little Cor- — sican was ancient at St. Helena. He was a small bay called King George, but was afterward named by the Em- — | peror Scheik. Lord Cardigan’s Ronald, which he rode F, in the Balaklava charge, is one of the most famous horses _ in history; while the most famous horse in the American. Civil. War was General Robert-E. Lee’s charger, Traveler, which died in 1872,-the skeleton of which is still to be seen at Lexington, Va. _ ‘THE DEFIANCE SOLD AS JUNK. Defiance, the yacht built by the tri-city syndicate as an. America Cup defender, has seen the end of-her fitful ca- reer. Her surviving owner, Commodore E, W. Clark, of the Philadelphia Corinthian Yacht Club, has disposed of her as junk, and she will be broken up mainly for the seventy tons of lead in her keel and the steel ribs in her frame. Parts of her top hamper, her spars, and somé fit- tings, will be turned over to men who are now, rebuilding — Mr, Clark’s Istalena. The rest of her will go to the junk- — men who bought what was left of the erratic single-sticker which cost her builders about $65,000 when she was built — at the Bath Iron Works. A syndicate of New York, Philadelphia and Boston _ , sportsmen built Defiance, hoping she might be good enough | to meet Shamrock in the race which was to have been sailed in New York Harbor last fall, but which was de-- elared.off on the breaking out of the European war. De- fiance was a failure from the beginning, as her sail spread — was so great that the frail body, even with its load of lead, could not stand the strain. ‘Twice her sail area was ne dueed and her mast cut down or restepped, but she waa too.cranky to snit, even with these changes. After her failure was announced during the trial races, Commodore Clark bought out all the other interests in her, deciding to rebuild or change her rigging so that she co be utilized by him. This. was found impracticable, and now the would-be racer has gone to the junk heap. * At the end of her racing career it was stated that the sloop had cost the syndicate nearly $100,000 before it was decided that she was unfit to compete with her rivals as a defender of the cup. Considering the sum spent on re- — fitting her with new sails, the cost of the crew engaged to sail her, and the tender’s expenses, with other inci-— dentals, this is probably an underestimate. Report has it — that as junk she fetched her owner about $6,500. >» f a, a ys an ae ao y 2 raed eri i ie aL Se en oe

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CHAPTER V (continued) “We have come in the wrong direction!” said Mario, in tones of despair. “Now, they must be out of reach.” _ The two boys agreed with him. “While they were discussing the matter, a large troop f Spanish soldiers, whom Durango had summoned, came oping out of the city. Away!” cried Dick. “We can’t cope with that crowd.” ‘Sure Durango, the blackguard, has got reinforce- Mm ts. ”? << “We must follow his’ same road back,” said Mario. “he three galloped away as fast as possible. Ahead was a woods through which the road ran. Several Spanish soldiers were in the bushes among the es, and had seen what was transpiring. Hoping to capture the three boys, they tied their tent es from tree to tree across the road near the ground, There were several of these lines, and as neither the Age" horses saw them, the animals soon reached them. The -ropes tripped the horses. ~ Down they fell, throwing their riders, and the soldiers the bushes discharged a volley of rifle shots at the CHAPTER VI. IN THE ENEMY’S CAMP. tunately Dick and his companions pene with but bruises from their falls. ey were greatly startled, and at once realized the of their horses tripping and falling. i} of bullets whistled around them, and both Ned i Mario were slightly wounded. at once, or we shall perish! 9? gasped the Cuban er have no horses now,” growled Ned. ive those treacherous hounds a shot first,” Dick said. Ban dang, bang, bang! roared their pistols. e yells of pain that came from the bushes told them ha tthe Spaniards were hit. Away they ran the next moment at full speed. They were safely hidden in the dense ne and FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. Two Yankee Boys in Cuba se Be FIGHTING WITH THE PATRIOTS 3 ie By ED. KING (A SERIAL STORY) 23 sped along deeper into the woods, expecting every mo- ment to hear their enemies firing after them. It is true that several shots were discharged, but the bullets were not aimed at them, as they were not seen. The stream course carried them down to the valley, and there they hid among rocks all night and half the next day. Tt was dangerous to venture out of their covert, as the Spaniards were scouring the neighborhood in quest of them. “We-can’t remain here forever,” said Dick, restlessly, as the shadows of twilight fell, and no chance of escape appeared. “Should we show ourselves, senors,” low, sad tones, “they will see and kill us Since his father’s death he had sadly changed. He seldom smiled, a gloomy look had settled upon his dark face, and a sad light shone in his dark eyes. Dick and Ned pitied him profoundly. “If we could get down this hill through that canyon,” said Ned, “we might be after escaping all right.” ; “Wait until it gets dark,” advised Mario, anxiously. “I saw some of the cavalry nding: by down in the valley awhile go.” S Dick was wild to get away, for he wanted to do some- thing to rescue Fanita from the power of her enemies. “Tf Durango loves her, Ned,” he said to his friend, “he will not allow any harm to befall the girl.” ; *Bedad, you’re pretty badly gone on the girl,” said Ned, with a smile. “Shure, she’s the only thing bi can think of.” “Don’t her peril worry you any?” % ‘It does that. But anxiety won’t be after helping the case. Bridle your impatience. You know very well, my lad, that if I can do anything to help her I’m ready.” “Oh, I know it, Ned; I know it.” “What a sudden change has taken place,” replied Mario, in ?? sighed Ned. “Oh, me—oh, my; I can hardly realize it: Only yesters day Don Manuel was alive and kicking. Now he’s as dead as a door nail. -Panita was safe in her happy homte—Row she’s abducted, in the hands of a spalpeen. An we— well, well, look at us! Faith, from two loitering pleasure seekers we've suddenly turned into a pair of Cuban insur- gents.” t “T’ll stick to these people. I'll fight for them, too,” eried the more excitable and impulsive Dick, as his blue eyes flashed fire and an angry frown gathered upon his

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24 FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. brow. “I vowed to Fanita to avenge her bs death, and T’ll do it, too.” “Where the deuce d’you suppose they’ye taken her ?” “Heaven only knows. Durango wanted to marry her and she rejected him. Now he will try to force her “ “Carramba!” cried Mario, excitedly, as he pointed away to the northwest. “See there—a fire.” The boys saw a fierce blaze of huge proportions. “What can it be?’ demanded Dick, curiously. ‘My father’s plantation.” “Can it be possible! Who could have set fire to it?” “My friends. Owing to my father’s exposure as being in league with the patriots, the Spaniards would seize the plantation and confiscate it. My friends, knowing this and’ being anxious to baffle them of their booty, have fired it.” “Bully for them,” chuckled Ned. They watched the fire until it burned out. By this time the gloom of night had far advanced. "It was verging onto midnight when the boys quietly stole down to the canyon to pass through it to the valley. There was no other way for them to go, as they dared net retreat the way they came from. A bank of clouds hid the moon. Tt caused a partial gloom to fall wpon the scene, and they quickly reached the canyon, which sloped steeply downward. Tt was filled with bowlders and dense vegetation, and Dick was in the lead. He had not gone far when a startling scene met his view, and brought him to a sudden pause, with his finger up to enjoin his friends to keep silent. They had unwittingly penetrated a Spanish camp in the canyon, the troops lying rolled in their blankets upon the ground’in various attitudes. _ All the boys were in the very midst of the camp ere they were aware of it, and saw the soldiers lying about on all sides of where they stood. The horses were tethered close to the canyon wall. _ “Not a sound, or we are discovered!” whispered Dick. “Their sentries will see us,” Mario muttered. “Faith, there isn’t one in sight,” said Ned, with. a grin. They were in a dangerous situation then. The slightest sound might arouse the sleepers and be- tray the boys to their enemies. “No avenue of retreat was seen, for there were just as many troops behind,as there were ahead and on each side, For a momert Dick eee upon Be: to act. “We may as well go ahead,” he muttered, finally. is just as risky to go one way as to go the other.” “Keep a lookout for guards,” cautioned Mario. “You can bet your sweet life I shall,” Ned replied. Keeping well within the shadows of the trees and bushes, and crouching as close to the ground as possible, the boys crept ahead and gained some distance. Finally a sentry was detected. “It . He sat at the foot of a palm tree, his rifle lying across| his lap. and his head bowed. 7 To all appearances he was asleep. Dick resolved to risk trying to pass him. The boy tightly chatched a revolver in his xd: and | resolved to shoot the man, if he was interfered with. A few steps further on, a formidable barrier was meta E in the forms of a number of the soldiers who laid in such a position that the boys had to step over their figures. Tt made the brave fellows’ hearts beat fast and furious | as they did so, and their nerves were drawn to a high tension of suspense, lest the sleepers might awaken. As caxefully as cats they performed the task. Picking their way among several more of the Spaniards, who were in their way, they began to feel encouraged by the belief thet they w ‘ould succeed after all. But just as their hopes were highest, an accident oc- curred that sent a feeling of horror through them. Dick’s foot caught in a thick, creeping vine. Tt flung him heavily to the ground. \ A fearful noise ensued, and the boy could hardly re- frain from uttering a cry of vexation. Just as he expected, the noise aroused the sleepers, aia many of them sat bolt upright, while others sprang to their feet, grasping their weapons. Every one was asking’ what caused the noise. cows CHAPTER VII. IN THE ENEMY’S CAMP. When Dick stumbled, arousing the sleeping Spanial 4 soldiers in the canyon leading to the valley, the feelings of the three boys were of the most apprehensive kind. Ned and Mario were quick-witted enough to fling © themselves prostrate beside Dick to escape immediate de-— tection. As if to make matters worse for them, the clouds parted and the silvery moon shed its brilliant light down Opa the scene. It was fair to presume that the startled troops would soonsee the boys and recognize them by their costumes. “Confound my stupidity!” Dick muttered savagely. “T’ve roused the whole camp. Now our lives may pay for it. from the power of Pedro Durango and his emissaries ?” _It was a bitter thought, for Dick realized that the Spanish captain was determined to marry the girl. With the plantation burned by the rebels, she had no home, and as matters now stood, it seemed to be almost, impossible for the boys to reach the Cave of the Cross. José Marti and his followers were to leaye there that — night and proceed toward Manzanillo to guard the eighty — volunteers and the arms and ammunition expected from the Yankee Lass on the Esperanza Key. How to join the expedition now was a mystery to Dick, and he finally made up his mind that they could not do it. The Spaniards were discussing the noise of his fall and the sleeping sentry had risen and was pacing his post, fearful of being caught napping and getting court-mar- tialed. : (To be continued) 4 q | . i 4 : : If we get shot who will rescue Fanita Peralta t a ‘ : ; :

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_ When attendants removed the covers from the bed on ‘which Peter Thanner died at the Soldiers’ Home, Leaven- worth, Kan., they found a tobacco box in which was de- posited $11,000. Of the amount found $1,200 was in cash, $8,000 in certificates of deposit, and the remainder in notes. The only known relative is a brother in New York. Thanner was eighty-nine. __Desmss Gibson, a fifteen-year-old boy, of Jenkins, Ky., $s in operation a ‘large frog pond, and it gives him steady employment, making deliveries of the largest of the frogs o restaurants and hotels. The boy is an orphan, having on ey a crippled mother, whom he supports. The young dad, in his spare moments, gathers all the frogs that he : m find of the kind that sells, and places them in his ‘Pp pend. He generally has from 800 to 1,000 in the pond. "Risking her life by sais 100 feet over a thin strip Of ice, Miss Josephine Hower, of Locust, N. J., captain of Navesink girls’ hockey team, rescued George La Barre, years old, son of Charles La Barre, of Locust, a New k broker.. The boy had broken through the ice when ting on Claypit Creek near here recently. Miss Hower, also was skating, saw the accident. Crawling to the 2 of the hole where La Barre had broken through, she hira when he arose and dragged him out. Last year’s apple crop was the largest ever produced in ie United States. Estimates announced by the Depart- of Agriculture placed the 1914 yield at 259,000,000 s, or 114,000,000 more than was produced in 1913. figures represent the actual “agricultural yield,” the tment explained, and should not be confused with of the commercial crop, which comprise the mar- portion of the total production. The States leading roduction of apples were: New York, 49,600,000 ; Pennsylvania, 23,100,000; Michigan, 17,200,000; nia, 15,300,000. G. Bundy, who owe just below the high hill on 5 from Lumberton, N. C., on a farm belonging to B. ‘Smith, in Wishart’s Township, reported a litter s at his place all born with tusks about three-quarters ineh long. There were eleven pigs in the litter and ‘one of them had tusks, from two to three on each “Mr. Bundy broke off the tusks with a pair of pliers ‘the pigs are doing fine. In every other way the pigs rere perfectly normal. Some account for this unusual pc Brights ough similar occurrences have been report- s ed during the past few years—by crossing breeds, though that seems to be just guesswork, Invisibility may become the sixth arm of the French nd service if Major Kopenhagne’s invention for making roops inyisible to the enemy observer before or above them FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. —¢ 25 FROM ALL POINTS is adopted by the general staff. The invention has been submitted after trials beginning in April, 1913, at Saint Cyr. L’Information states that on trial the new. method made twenty-five French soldiers on an open field so in- visible that an aviator circulating over the field at a height of a thousand feet had to report at the end of twenty-four, minutes’ search he could not locate them. The inventor refuses to give any description of his work before the mili- tary authorities have reached their decision as to its adop- tion. A relic of the Civil War was brought to light recently when a saw at the lumber mill at Daggett, on Cache River, Ark., ran onto a shell from a six-pound cannon that. was completely imbedded in an oak log three feet thick. Both the saw and the shell’ were broken. The tree was cut on the field where the battle of Cotton Plant was fomght in July, 1863, between the Federals under Gen. Steele and the Confederates under Gen. Dobbins. The fuse and cap were still attached to the shell, which had never exploded.: Mr. Daggett is very proud of his find and says he does not mind the broken saw. The shell has attracted much attention, as many of the residents of this section remem- ber. the battle at Cotton Plant. The British soldier at the front will feast-on lobster if; the proposal of this colony is accepted by the War Depart- ment, it was learned the other night. The bulk of the Newfoundland canned lobster output usually is sold in Germany, but this market has been closed because of the war. While the catch last year was small, with a total, pack of 12,000 cases, as against an average of 20,000 cases in previous years, the packers have been left with virtually the whole of it.on their hands. After the opening of the, war the price dropped from $23 to $12 a case. In order to avoid a complete failure of the industry for the year, it is proposed that the British government purchase all, the product at a reasonable figure, as a ration for the sol- diers in the field. The expensiveness of pure tin accounts for the care with which it is handled. It is astonishing how little tin can be made to cover thousands of cans. still more expensive than it is had not the following process been invented for its recovery at very low cost: Great. heaps of empty cans (preferably washed and dried by mechanical means) are piled up in an air-tight room. Warm chlorine gas is forced into the’ room, where it reaches every nook and corner of the cans. The warm gas has a tendency to unite with tin and form tin chloride, a highly volatile liquid. The mixture of gases—-consist- ing of air, free chlorine and the vapor of tin chloride—is passed through a condenser, where the tin chloride is-sepa- rated from the other gases and by a simple chemical process the absolutely pure tin is precipitated. Yet tin would be’

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26. " FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. Fame and Fortune Weekly, The railroad that pays the biggest dividends on the NEW YORK, FEBRUARY 5, 1915. TERMS TO SUBSCRIBERS Postage Free HOW TO SEND MONEY—At our risk send P.O. Money Order, Check ea Peas. Publisher 168 West 23d St., N. Y. BRIEF BUT POINTED ITEMS A punch on the nose is worth $2,556 by a ruling of the Superior Court of Boston. This was the amount of dam- ages awarded Carl C. Olsen in a suit against Charles Ma- son, superintendent of the Park Riding School. Accord- ing to the testimony Mason assaulted Olsen when the lat- ter attempied to protect his wife from Mason’s annoying attentions. The body of Patrick O’Leary, a military prisoner on Aleatras Island, in San Francisco Bay, was found on the Oakland water front. O’Leary cut part of the bottom from a tool chest, leaving one plank, which he bestrode. This made a covered ark, which supported him, protected his head and body from observation, and left his legs free to propel the craft. Two kegs attached at either end served as pontoons. He was not sighted nor did he sink, but he was unable to make headway against the tides, and died of exposure. The Miroir of Paris gives photographs of an armored warrior, whose appearance is reminiscent of the Crusades. He wears the latest French device for safely observing the enemies nearest the trenches. His armor consists of half-| inch chilled steel oblong convex—to turn bullets—head- piece, pierced with two eye-holes, and a breastplate, the total weight being more than sixty pounds. Leg protec- tion is unnecessary, as the wearer’s lower half is hidden by his own trech. The inventor, a French engineer lieu- x tenant, says this armor will resist or turn a rifle bullet _- fired at point-blank range. An old fox horn, which has sounded over the woods and _ &wamps of Alabama for over a hundred years, passed into * a new ownership when Watt McDade sent. it to George _-M. Pliler of Longview, Texas, a brother of the late J. W. _ Pliler of Montgomery, Ala, who owned the horn for many _ years. The history of. the horn dates back into over a : century ago, and has been an heirloom in the McDade - family. It was covered with part of a deerskin taken ‘from a deer killed in Elmore Coualy iy. She talone of ae Sepia ekelawen ok (ahh Ay Rit iah > UR “Answer me! I can bear this: suspense no longer. “an capital invested is, according to the Technical World Mag- azine, the Grand Island railroad. It is in Northern Al- berta. Canada, 200 miles from any trunk line or feed. It is only a quarter of a mile long and built of scrap iron on wooden rails. Its rolling stock consists of two battered freight cars which are pushed along the road by the men who ship the freight, no locomotives being used. The freight that is handled on this road consists principally of furs, which are towed up the Athabaska River on scows hauled by men, are laden on the cars, pushed down the railroad and shipped again-on other scows, thereby circum- venting the dangerous Grand Rapids. Returning, the scows carry all sorts of freight for the Hudson Pay Com- pany’s factors, and are floated down the river. The Hud- son Bay Company charges $2.50 a ton for all freight on this little railroad, and the shipper must handle his own goods and push the cars himself. GRINS AND CHUCKLES “Say, what’s a common person?” “A common person is — one that we do not associate with. Why do you ask?” “Well, the lady next door said you were a common pers son.” “Won’t you be very, very happy when your sentence is over ?”” cheerfully asked a woman of a convict in prison. — “T dunno, ma’am; | dunno,” gloomily answered the man. _ “You don’t know?” asked the woman, amazed. “Why not?” “I’m in for life.” Lawyer—Madam, I’m sorry to say that I don’t see the ghost of a chance for you to break your uncle’s will. Client —Well, to be frank with you, I don’t see the ghost of a chance to pay you for what you’ve already done if the will isn’t broken. Lawyer—H’m! On second cage a ma- dam, I think the will can be broken. ; Ne ee, ee cee Re The Bandana! teacher was making a review of the 4 lessons. “Who was the wisest man, James?” “Solomon.” “That's right. Now, Frank, who was the strongest man?” “Jonah.” “Wrong; but what reason have you for beliey- ing Jonah was the strongest man?” “’Cause the whale eouldn’t hold him after it got him down.” e Old Uncle Andy was steering his. master’s boat down the bay: They passed an ocean liner. “Andy,” said Mr. Blank, “just look how high that ship stands out of the water. i wonder why it is.” “Why, boss,” answered the — old darky, “don’t you know? We ain’t had no rain for nigh on three weeks now, and de water's oo low.” — Tt was evening. He and she were seated in her fe ther’s room, burning her father’s gas. “Answer me, An- gelina!” he cried, in a voice full of passionate earnestness. swer him, Angelina!” came a voice through the = lee “Answer him! + Bn tele paeipen on: beara ; oS FR ONS Ce eee ara Oe eee “4

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A TOUGH TALE. By D. W. Stevens ° “There’s no use in talking,” remarked Buck, surveying ‘Our mess with a twinkle in his eyes, as he proceeded to Scrape a coal from the campfire for the purpose of relight- ing his pipe. “A tail-hold, as you call it, comes almighty ndy at times. I recollect one time especially. It was when Jim and I were trapping on Feather river. But what's the use in telling the story? Some of you’d say hat I didn’t do no such thing. Well, maybe I didn’t, but Jim McDonald was here—rest his soul !—he’d make an aifiidavit to my assertion with pleasure.” “Go on, Buck,” said I, for I was beginning to fear that @ were about to lose a story which would serve to keep awake until paar: time came around, if it did nothing : go on!” came from every side. ze And the ¢ old fellow, with a grateful glance at me, scraped e coal into his pipe and commenced: ‘As I was remarking, that very tail-hold comes handy netimes, although it is one of the uncertainest holds in universe. Well, a few months after Jim and I squatted in the ther river country my chum got down with the fever, -all the heavy work fell on me. ‘had to look after the traps, do the hunting, watch who got crazy at times, and make myself generally t was the worst country for mean cinnamons you ever Why, they'd come right up to the shanty as if they were tting anxious about Jim’s condition, and he said, after rot well, that one day, while I was gone, a big, she- amon poked her nose through the window, and ac- r: asked him if he wasn’t going to oblige the species ying soon. know that I found the sash broken when I got back; I always thonght that Jim had done it in a fever fit, “i didn’t tell. me till long afterwards just how it e that I knew would brace Jim up. e was at his worst just then, and I hadn’t been two him at any time for four days. always made him Jock the door when I went out. ; gainst the house for the purpose. time when Jim was asleep, I used to poke the ’ the as vunlock the door, aud join him e eatin day 1m talking about now, when : within sight of the shieiniy, t saw Fsoinething, that de my hair raise. © FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. 2 day I was approaching the ‘ahuxity with two young} y window sae looked into the: ‘room where Jim} 1e | Kim: keep at work?—and wasn’t old Buck ‘Rodman at the — ~ | tail-end of that something trying to keep it off 27 —— I immediately stopped and dropped the grouse when I saw the sight,for the first thing that popped into my head was that that bear wasn’t the only creature around. Yes, I thought that another had entered the hut and made short work of poor Jim, for the cinnamons had been prowling around in pairs or squads. After a while, however, I concluded to keep the bear in the window from joinirg the feast. If I shot him the way he was he’d only tumble inside, and if Jim wasn’t quite gone he’d make quick work of him. Presently I heard Jim, and I knew that he was alive ; but he hadn’t the strength of a child. It was curious to see that bear trying to work himself into the hut; it was hard to tell whether he was too big, or the window too litile; but I saw that he was gradually gaining his point. “Heaven have mercy!” groaned Jim. “If I could only keep the bear out till Buck got here I wouldn’t be chawed up.” I was close upon the bear when I heard Jim, and I shouted : “T am right here, Jim. Are there more than,one?” “That’s one too many, Buck,” he cried. “If you could only hold the bear where he is till I load the big rifle, maybe we'll come out of the scrimmage right side up.” I hold a cinnamon? Well, I thought that Jim was wandering again, but I told him that I would hold that very creature, hold him or go under. “All right,” says he. “Hold on to that tail like a case of fever, and I’ll load the big rifle.” ' You’d better believe, boys, that the next minute a fellow about Buck Rodman’s size made a straight shoot for the bear, now about halfway inside. I got a hold that wasn’t to be sneezed at, such as it was, and, bracing my feet against the hut alongside of the window, I began to haul back with all my might. The cinnamon wasn’t long in realizing the situation, foy he gave several emphatic growls, and tried to back out to inaugurate a tussle with the new foe. see “Now go in,” hollered I to Jim. “I’m going to keep this hold till you load the gun if you’re a week doing it.” There was no discount on Jim McDonald. He was the best man in Oalifornia, and I ‘kook: - charged, the gun just as quick as possible, ‘But I wasn’t long finding out that I had alls cee one of the biggest contracts on record, for when the bear 7 made a lunge forward, the tail would nearly get through : my fingers, and when he pushed backwards, he almost knocked my feet loose. oP I always thought that Jim, racked with the fever, bes els at the worst end, and that made me hold like death. » ae By and by I could hear Jim trying to load the gun. gn He was down on his knees, falling clean back and recone fe "| ening every. minute, he was so weak; but he kept on. # Gosh! wasn’t there something in the window ie weed Jim? » Maybe you’d have laughed 'to- cae seen me holding on ‘a

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rr rr FAME. AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. | AN ODD LADDER. The oddest ladder ever invented is the work of a New York man. It is only a rod, instead of a familiar form. The novel construction saves " space, permits the Jadder to be used as an ornamental fire escape, or auxiliary to other fire escapes, or on poles, chimneys, steeples, or gas tanks, wherever, in fact, a sealing ladder can be used to ad- vantage and economy of material is desirable. The ladder, which is of metal and patented, is built in sections, each section consisting of two steps, a right.and a left, with a handhold between. These sections have threaded joints, permitting indefinite extension, and the ladder may be attached: to the wall by ring bolts at suitable intervals. A STRANGE SWINDLING GAME. Christopher Bewarder, an American visitor in London, has teported to the police the loss of $16,000 in American bank notes as the result of a confidence trick played upon him by two men. Bewarder said they got into conversa- tion with him and asked if he had any valuables on him. He replied that he had. They suggested that they should be put into a tin box and take them to a deposit office for safékeeping. He handed over the notes and they put them into a box. Gcing toward the bank one of the men said: “Tet’s see if they’re safe.” While they were talking his companion got away with the notes. The American was able to furnish the police! with. a description of the two men “who, it is said, have been PS under the names: of Keller and: Winders. _ RECORD YEAR IN AMERICAN SPORTS. The New York Times states that 25,000,000 spectators witnessed amateur and professional’ sports in this country during the last twelve months, which is sufficient founda- tiori for the oft-repeated statement that 1914 was a record year in American athletic competitions. These astonish- ing attendance figures, equal to approximately one-quarter } of the total population of the United States, are not the result of haphazard guessing. The attendance ‘at all - forms of sports’ contests was recently the subject of dis- cussion among a group of writers.and experts in this city, and after much comparison and conference the: foregoing figures were fixed upon as being : tomparatively renee and conservative. _. ~ In the main these 25, 000,000 represent paid adibcieta, but not entirely, since in certain sports the paid attend- ance forms but a smal] percentage of the total assemblage ‘ .. In some cases the figures are official or in others they are the result of careful lations ‘gathered from club secretaries, newspaper re- s, and srg made by ee qualified. to gauge the reasonable admission estimate, but even this gave startling total of $12,500,000 in gate receipts in the last ig twelve months. They form impressive. testimonials. ses is natural, and wale official ‘counts Penaet was the ngcte es- twentieth time: add sorbent 30 per hor to ee total en ARTICLES OF ALL KINDS ganized baseball control, representing, as it does, 43 leagues and almost 300 clubs. Football comes next with 6,292;- 000. Parke Davis, member of the rules committee and expert football statistician, is authority for this estimate, together with the additional information, that 152,000’ players participated in 34,000 games during the season of ten weeks. It was the consensus of opinion that approximately 1,000,000 persons witnessed racing, trotting and pacing throughout the country last year. hard problems, since few accurate records are kept. The official figures showed that close to 150,000 spectators. paid admission for the twelve days of Davis Cup tennis play at Newport. Another 150,000 was fixed upon as the probable attendance at all other sectional, State and city tennis title tournaments. Golf galleries being without admission feature were not separately considered. Automobile, motor cycle and bicycle races were allotted 500,000 and track and field sports a similar attendance. These figures refer principally to paid admissions, and Tennis and golf proved _ if they err they minimize rather than exaggerate. The | two international polo matches between the United States and English teams drew 75,000. spectators to, Meadow ~ Brook last spring. _ Probably 50,000 more followed the play in other. tournaments about the country, giving a : total of 125,000. ciation of Amateur Oarsmen, raised the total to 425, 000... Boxing also found a prominent place in the tabulations. ss Using the reports of the New York and Wisconsin State Athletic Commissions, it was ‘estimated that fully 1,500,- 000 spectators attended professional and amateur exhibi- 1 tions and championship bouts during. 1914. In New York State alone the gate receipts, as reported to the commis- — sion, was, in round figures, $640,000 and the attendance : 400,000. Soil ‘No attempt was made to estimate - the attendance at golf and trapshooting tournaments, where admission fees hockey, lacrosse and yachting were placed in the same category. No place was allotted to, college, schoolboy or semi-professional baseball, but these sports or classifica-_ tions of sport were used to bring the total up to 25,000 000, It was agreed that 50 cents per. person would be a a America’s place in the world of sport, but as one } man marked as he viewed the tabulation and estimates fi “I am inclined to a a + koa The two big college regattas at..Pough-— keepsie and New London attracted 100,000. persons; of © whom 20,000 paid for observation train or boat seats. — Other dual and triangular *Varsity races, together with | the national and sectional regattas of the National ae 8 * are either nominal or entirely dispensed: with. Cricket, “3 es 3 oy :

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JAPANESE TWIRLEX. A wonderful imported paper novelty. By a simple manipu- lation of the wooden handles & number of beautiful figures cen be produced. It takes on several combinations of magnificent colors. Price, 16c., postpaid, WOLFF NOVELTY CO. 20 W. 26th St., N. ¥. NOISY HANDKERCHIEF. » A great deal of amusement \ may be had with this little article. It imitates the blow- ing of the nose exactly, except that the noise ‘> magnified at least a dozen times, and sounds like the bass-horn in a German band. This device is placing it between the teeth ~ & Used by simply _ nd blowing. The harder the blow the louder _ the noise. Price, ic. each by mail, postpaid, H. F. LANG, 1815 Centre St., B’kiyn, N. x. ee TER THE FOUNTAIN RING. A handsome ring connected with m rubber ball which is concealed in the palm of the hand. A gentile squeeze forces water or cologne in the face of the victim while he is examining it. The ball can be in- stantly filled by immersing ring in water same as a fountain pen filler. Price by mail, postpaid, 12c, each. NAME C postals. They are beautifully lithographed in a variety of colors and have various names, such as Harry, Edith, etc. printed on the reverse side. Just the thing to mail to your friends. Price 6 for 10 cents, by mali, post aid. LF. LANG, 1815 Centre St., B’kiyn, N. ¥. _ MAGIC COINER. A mystifying and amusing trick. Tin blanks are placed under the little tin cup and apparently coin into dimes. <A real money- maker. Price, 20c. WOLFF NOVELTY Co., 29 W. 26th St., N. ¥. THE AUTOPHONE. A small musical instru- ment that produces very sweet musica! notes by placing it between the lips with the tongue over the edge, and blowing gently into the instrument. The notes produced are not unlike those of the fife and flute. We send full printed instructions . : whereby anyone can play -@nything they can hum, whistle or sing, with little practice. Price, 10c,; 8 for 25c, mailed, postpaid. _ WOLFF NOVELTY CO., 29 W. 26th St., N. ¥. | -« SURPRISE KINEMATOGRAPH. The greatest hit of the season! It consists of @ smell metal, nickeled tube, with a_ lens eye view, which shows a pretty bal- let girl in tights. Hand it to a friend, who will be delighted with the first pic- ture; tell him te turn the " screw in center of instru- ‘Ment te ch the views, when a stream of ‘Water squirts Into his face, much to his dis- Anyone who has not seen this kinema- Ph in. operation is sure to be caught time. The fnstrument ¢an be refilled Ce mas : . Price 25e, by mail, pestpaid. WOLFF NOVELTY RUNNING MOUSE This mouse is s0 nearly a perfect imi- tation of the live ani- mal as to not only de- ceive the ladies, but THE AUTOMATIC Inside each mouse is a set of clock which you wind up with a key, then the mouse on the floor and it will run idly in every direction In a circte across ke floor backward and forward as if to get . Suddenly set it agoing in a room here there are ladies, and you will have the hearing them scream-and jump upon to escape the little rodent. This mouse is well worth ‘it for 30c., and send it by mall post~ * NOVELTY CO., 29 W. 26th Bt, N. ¥. ‘F NOVELTY CO., 29, W. 26th St., N. ¥. | ARDS { The newest fad in pictore with water in an instant, ready for the next) custo CO., 29 W. 26th St.. N. ¥.! to even deceive the. GOOD LUCK BANKS. Ornamental as well as use~ ful. Made of highly nickeled brass. It holds just One Dol- lar. When filled it opens it- self. Remains locked until refilled. Can be used as a watohcharm. Money refund- ed ff not satisfied. Price, 100. by mall. | &. F. LANG, 1815 Centre St., B’klyn, N. ¥. WIEHTNING TRICK BOX, A startling and pleasing fl!lu- sion! “The ways of the world are devious,” says Matthew Arnold, but the ways of the Lightning Trick Box when properly handled are admitted to be puzzling and uncertain. You take off the lid and show your friends that it is full of nice candy. Replace the lid, when you can solemnly assure ha friends that you can instantly empty the ox in their presence without opening it; and taking off the lid again, sure enough the canéy has disappeared. Or you can change the candy into a piece of money by following the directions sent with each box. This is the hae and best cheap trick ever invented. rice, only 1@c.; 3 for 25c., mailed, postpaid, C. BEHR, 150 W. 62d St., New York City. SNAP BACK MATCH SAFE, Just out! A trick match safe. It is a beautifully nickelled box, of the size to hold_matches. But when your friend presses the spring to take out a match, the lid files back, and pinches his finger just hard enough to startle without hurting him. This is a dandy! Price, 15e. each by mati, postpaid. H. F. LANG, 1815 Centre St., B’kiyn, N. Y¥. trick. You ask a friend if he will have a cigar; if he says yes (which is or cigar case, an ordinary cigar, and hand it to him. As he reaches out for it, the cigar instantly disappears right before his eyes, was the last Pathe had, and the chances are that he will invite you to smoke with him if you will let him into the secret. It is not ble for the eye to follow it, and where it has gone, no one can tell. A wonderful illusion. Price, 10¢.; 8 for 25c. by mail, postpaid. _ “PHE DISAPPEARING CIGAR. A new and startline ee usually the case), you take from your pocket much to his astonishment. You can apolo- gize, saying, you are very sorry, but that it done by sleight-of-hand, but the cigar actu- ally disappears so suddenly that it is impossi- Cc. BEHR, 150 W. 62d St.,. New York City. —_— INITIAL WATCH FOB. It has a neat enameled black strap, and smal! secure buckle, with “a patent catch 80 that no watch can slip off. The handsome tortoise shell pendants are beautifully en- graved with any initial desire. The letter is fire gilt, cannot rub off, and is studded with nine Barrios diamonds. are the biggest value ever offered. each, by mail, postpaid. il, . ba ¥RANK SMITH, 383 Lenox Ave., N. ¥. These fob Price, 25c, “KNOCK-OUT” CARD TRICK.—Five cards &re shown, front and back, and there are no cards alike. You place some of them in ence. You now take the remaining cards and _ request anyone to name any This | done, you repeat the name of the and atate that you will cause it te ip leave your hand oni pass into the erchief, where it will be found among the other cards. ecard has vanished, ' 26th ne card. WoOLEF NOVELTY co., 29 W. or . tw | Randkerchiet and ask any person to hold | | them by the corners in full view of the audi- | At the word “Go!” — ere pine Fi od — . eaving a utely only 50c., but W® two cards. The handkerchief is unfolded by t | } | , to make the transfer. | Mewspapers can be speedily re ) tive collection of insect any person, and in it is ivund the identical . | ice, 100. | Loe tank x GREENBACKS $1570 In Stage Money fer i0c. Get a bunch of Stage Greenbacks (not counterfeits), wrap them around yourownrolland show yourfriends whatawadyou carry. Big bunchof $1570 FOR 10 CENTS. ENTERPRISE CO. TW-3848 LOWE AVE,, OHICAGO KORKER Repeating LIQUID PISTOL * Will stop the most vicious dog |\f (or man) without permanent injury. Perfectiy safe to carry with- out danger of jeakage. Fires and re- charges by pulling the trigger. Loads from any Liquid. No cartridges required. Over six shots in one loading. All dealers, or by mail, 250, Pistol withrubber-covered & holster, $00, Holsters separate, 10, Seud money order or U. 3 ee PARKER, STEARNS & CO., 273 Georgia Ave., Broodyn, MN. ¥ GREENBACKS Pack of $1,000 Stage Bills, 10c; 3 packs, 250, Send for 2 pack and show the boys what a WAD you carry. Cc. A. NICHOLS, JR., Box 90, Chill, N. Y. NOVELTIES—2'=:. jokes, puzzles, magia Illustrated catalogue free.‘ EXCELSIOR NOVELTY CO., Dept. 0, Anderson Reaity Bidg., Mount Vernon, N. Y¥. ON MOONLIGHT neti T'4 Love to Live fn Loveland; If You Talk in Your Sleep; Ob Mr.§ Man; Everybody's Doin’ It: Wren so ‘a 21 and You Were Swost 16: Is it Very Far to Heaven: I'm a to Di: * Plexander’s Rage ‘ou Beautiful Doll;Casey Jones: G: Bear? : They Alwsys Pick on Me; Put on Your Grey Bill; Let Me Call You 5 : Rosea the Honeymoon time Band; On ¥ Red W: NVESTING For PROFIT FREE Ciiag ares any secs owores seas who ban invested money unproftably, or who can save © or more month, but who hasn't learned the ert of in: re ow stupendous fortunes are 61,000 grows to $23,000. To me now, Ill send it six months, abeota Beri HL BARBER, Pub 522 26W Jeckoon Bvd., Chicago, UL TALKING HEAD ASTONISHING, MYSTIFYING Canse an apparently to open its eyes at command, talk, anewer questions. Start Hing Musion; amazes all. Just imagine the sensation ae a create, This great trick so clearly explain thet anyone cen iy also bew, iutensely tmteresting i pels Game of Baseball, for omly 160, Great fun. MAGIC SHOP, Dept. K, - N. 4, SLACKE-EYB JOKE. New and gmusing joker. Th victim is tol¢ fo ho the tube close to his . 50 as te exclude all Nght from the beck, and then to remove the tube until pictures appear in the center. In trying to locate the pictures he will re- ceive the finest black-eye you ever saw. We fu a 1 box of blackening progacasoee, with each tube, so the joke can be used in- definitely. Those not fm the trick will be caught every time. Abso- each; lutely harmless. Price by mall lSe. 2 for 25e. WOLFF NOVELTY CO., 29 W. 26th St.. N. ¥, ITALIAN TRANSFER. With this remarkable In- vention any one can trans- fer pictures or engravings from newspapers or books, and make perfect copies of butterfly and moth . wings for scrap books, It is the dry transfer process, cleanly, handy wnd re- Mable, and the results secured will. Pama | you. Transfer is a gelatinous subs me <2 up in cakes, one of which is enclor wooden rubber and full directions ing pictures, it requiring but a fe Any pic our album, or elsewhere, a per ng made, and several copies from the same picture. Butt wings can also be pictured, 4 colors and markings on the ¥" ferred, and thus an ee and permanently preserv Both young and old will Transfer, and the price Price, ag 10c,, 3 for ce. a 2 ‘or by mail postpaid, “% i. F. LANG, 1815 ©

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“VANISHING AND RE- APPEARING EGG.—Very fine, easy to perform and it produces a marvelous and mystifying effect. Egg is made to appear and vanish right before the eyes. Beautifully made. Price, 25c. EEF NOVELTY CO., 29 W. 26th St., N. Y. SURPRISE LETTER DRUM. Stung! That was one on you! The joke? You senda friend a letter. He opens it, and that releases the drum. Instantly the sheet of note paper begins to bang and thump furiously, with a rip- - ping, tearing sound. Guar- anteed to make a man with iron nerves al- most jump out of his skin. You can catch the sharpest wisenheimer with this one. Don’t miss getting a few. Price, 6c. each by mail Cc, BEHR, 150 W. 62d St., New York City. bottle is that it cannot be made to lie down, and yet by simply passing the-hand over it, the per- former causes it to do s0. This trick affords great amusement, and is of convenient size to carry ADOUts «0 owe reece co cecseercene ++++Price, 10¢ H. F. LANG, 1815 Centre St., B’klyn, N. Y. THe PEG JUMPER. A very. effective trick, easily , any one. A miniature paddie ~ shown. See ral holes are dritled through it. A _ wooden — is inside of the upper hole. Showing now Born sides of the paddle, the performer causes, by simply breat g upon it, the peg to leave the upper hole, and appear in the middle one, Then it jumps to the lower hole, back to the middle one, and lastly to the upper hole. Both sides ef the paddle are repeatedly shown. Price by mail, 15e, C. BEHR, 150 W. 62d St., New York City. MANY TOOL KEY RING. The wonder of the age. The great- est small tool in the world. In this little instrument you have in combina- tion seven useful tools embracing Key Ring, Pencil Sharpener, Nail Cutter and Cleaner, Watch Opener, Cigar Clipper, Letter Opener and Screw Driver, -It is not a toy, but a useful article, made of cutlery steel, tem- pered and highly nickeled. Therefore will carry an edge the samc as any jece of cutlery. As a useful tool, nothing ever been offered to the public te equal it Price, 15c., mailed, postpaid. WOLEEF NOVELTY CO., 29 W. 26th St., N. ¥. GARD THROUGH THE HAT TRICE With this trick you bare row a hat, and appar- ently shove a card up through the crown, without injuring the card or hat. The oper- ation can be reversed, the performer seomingly pushing the card down through the crown into the hat again. It is @ trick which will puzzle and interest the closest observer and detection is almost impossible, It is so simple that a ehiid can learn how to perform it in a few munutes. Price 10 ceats each, by mail, post-paid H. F. LANG, 1815 Centre St., B’klyn, N. Y. _———$—$—————————— nn WHISTLEPHONE This is one of the greatest musical in- struments ever invent- ed. It is made entirely of metal and is almost invisible when in use, With it, Ina few mo- ments, you can Jearn to play all kinds of tunes, have lots of fun, please and amuse your friends and make some money, too. Fine for either song or piano accompaniment or by itself alone. You place the whistlephone in the mouth with half circle out, place end of tongue to rounded part and blow gently ae if to cool the lips. A few trials will’ena- bl. one to play any tune or air. Price 6 cents ¢ych by mail, post-paid H. F. LANG, 1815 Centre St., B’klyn, N. ¥. WIZARD’S PACK OF TRICK CARDS. A full pack of 53 cards, but by the aid of ths instructions given, anyone cat: perform the most wonderful tricks. Many of the feats exhibited are truly marvelous, and astonish and amuse a whole audience. Posi- tively no sieight-of-hand. The whole trick {s in the cards. Price, 35c. by mail, postpaid. WOLFF NOVELTY CO., 29 W. 26th St., N. ¥. THE FIGHTING ROOSTERS. A full blooded pair of fighting game _ cocks. These liliputian fighters have real feathers, yellow legs and fiery red combs, their movements when fighting are perfectly nat- ural and lifelike, and the secret of their movements is known only to the operator, who can cause them to battle with each other as often and as long as desired. Independent of their fighting proclivities they make very pretty mantel! ornaments. Price for the pair in a strong box, 1@c.; 8 pairs for 25c. by mail, postpaid. ui. &, LANG, 1815 Centre St., B’kiyn, N. ¥. PIGGY IN A COFFIN. This is a wicked pig that died at an early age, and here mm he ig in his coffin ready for {} burial. There will be a great > many mourners at his funeral, , for this coffin, pretty as it Jeoks, is very tricky, and the man who gets jt open will feel real grief. The coffin is made ef metal, perfectly shaped and beautifully quered. The trick is to open it to see the . The man that tries it gets his fingers gad feelings hurt, and piggy comes out tw nt at his victims. The tubuler end of the Geflin, which everyone (in trying to open) presses inward, contains a needle which stabs the victim in his thumb or finger every time, This is the letest and a very “impressive” trick. It can be opened easily by anyone in the secret, and as a neat catch-joke to save yourself from a bore is unsurpassed. Price, i0c.; 3 for 25c., postpaid; one dozen by ex- press, 75c. Ss WOLFF NOVELTY CO., 29 W. 26th St., N. X. ath] F Tay = tSGVED EVERY FRIDAY plays. semi-official, w number issued. tabulations gath ports, and estimats, size and number of Baseball leads, as BEAUTIFUL COLORED COVER DEGICNS ° Now pertratte of actors and aectreseeoe every week - Photographs and Biographies of the most celebrated Photopiay Speciel Articies relating to Moving Pictures, written by the » Nex Liotes from the studios about the doings of everybody of not ent Hints and the names of ali the companies who may buy the plays you write. ance forms Ungies, Jests and every bright feature ealculated to interest both of spectators. A COPY NOW trom your newsdealer, or send us 5 conts in E WANT YOU TO READ “Mioving Picture Stories” A Wookly Magazine devoted to Photopleys and Players. = B® PRICE 5 CENTS A COPY @ EVERY NUMBER CONTAINS Bix Gripping Stories, based on the latest aud best Sims, each profusely tlustrated with fine half-tones ef scenes in the FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher Absolutely the finest Ilttle publication on the news-stands PINE HALF-TONE FRONTIGPIEOES Got a copy of this weekly magazine and see what itis actors and ectresses. : greatest authorities in the film business. prominence connected with the Photoplays young and old. money er posiage stamps, and we will mail THIRTY-TWO PAGES New York : are “not available a to 23d Street ‘timate a the attends See

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FAME AWD FORTUNE WEEKLY 528 teak oe ee ee ES— 456 A Corner in Money; or, Beating the Wall Street Money Sharks. n the Lumber Trade; or, Yinning Speculator. 457 : yho } Luck. 426 A Boy's Big Deal; or, The Wall Street Tip ‘That Won. 458 Erte Dan Tucker : a Me ing Big. Menge ‘Wall St. 427 Prince, the Printer; or, The Little Shop That Was Made to Pay. | 459 Fighting for Business: or, Beating a Bad Start. 428 The Little Money King; or, Tempting late in Wall Street. Toe : Y 429 A Naencheinat re” T a 460 A Boy Money Maker; or, In Wall Street on His Nerve. mong the Missing; or, The Treasure of the Silver City. 461 Buried Gold; or, The Treasure of the Old Buccaneers. 430 Lucky Larry; or, The Bow Who Made Wail Street Take Notice. 462 Hitting it Rich; or, The Luckiest Firm in Wall St yi “age one sey 80 or, The Boy Who Dealt in Derelicts. 463 Sam, the Salesman ; or, The Boy Witb the Silver Tongue. n the Game for Gold; or, Beating the Wall Street Market. 464 Playing in Luck; or, A_Plotter’s Dangerous Deal. 433 Messenger Sixty-Four; or, Hustling for a Living. 465 After a Big Stake; or, Brains Against Brawn. 434 Old Kitson’s Kid; or, The Best Tip in Wall Street. 466 Facing the Mexicans; or, The Secret Of the Aztec’s Gold. 485 Lineman Jack; or, The Boy Who Built a Business. 467 Fighting For Fame; or, The Luck Of a ee, | Contractor. 436 Barry & Co., Bankers and Brokers; or, The Boy Money-Makers in | 468 Seeking a Lost Treasure; or, The Nerve Of a Young Explorer. Wall Street. 469 Matt, the Mechanic; or, The Boy Who Made His Pile. 487 On the Fast Mail; or, From Clerk to Postmaster. 470 Among the Ice Peaks; or, The Voyage That Made the Money. 488 His Last Chance; or, The. Boy Who Made Money in Wall Street. 471 The Little Castaways; or, The Fortune That a Wreck Brought 439 Shipped to Sea; or, The Treasures of the Coral Cave. 472 Taking Big Chances; or, The Boy Who Saved a Town. P 440 An Errand Boy’s Fortune; or, The Office of Wall Street Secrets. 473 Always Lucky; or, Winning on His Merits 441 In the Film Game; or, The Boy Who Made Moving Pictures. 474 Out for a Corner; or, A Smart Chicago Boy. 442 A Smart New York Boy; or, From the Tenements to Wall Street. |475 The Winning Trick; or, How a Boy Made His Mark. 443 Mark Milton’s Mine; or, a Schoolboy’s Inheritance. 476 The Young Editor; or, Running a Country Newspaper. 444 The Young Banker; or, The Mystery of a Money Box. 477 A Big Stroke; or, The Lad Who Made a Record. , 445 The Secret Chart; or, The Golden Treasure of the Crater. 478 In the Copper Field; or, The Mine That Made the Money. 446 The Boy Behind the Deals; or. The Luck of a Wall Street Broker. 479 From a Cent to a Fortune; or, A Chicago Boy s Great Scoop. , 447 Thrown on the World; or, Starting Business on a Dollar. 480 A Start in Life; or, A Poor Boy's Rise to Fame. 448 A Speculator at 16; or, The Lad Who Worked His Brains. 481 A Wide Awake Boy; or, Born With a Winning i 449 Tom, the Steeple Jack; or, Winning a Living by Nerve. 482 st the Money; or, How Ben Bailey Made His Mark. 450 Saving a Million; or, Ben and the Wal! Street Brokers. 483 Digging ‘or Gold; or, The Luck of a Boy Bye ee 451 Down and Out; or, A Hard Boy to Beat. 484 A Boy With Grit; or, Earning An Honest Living. 452 The Boy Banker's Double ; or, A Strange Wall Street Mystery. 485 Andy, the Mill Boy; or, Rising to the Top. = 453 The Young Beach Comber; or, A Fortune From the Sand. 486 Fame Before the Footlights; or, The Boy Who Bossed the Theater. 454 The Little Boss; or, After the Wall Street Money Kings. 487 Lucky Lee, the Office Boy; or, The Nerviest Lad in New York. 455 $250,000 in Gold; or, Hunting a Hindoo Treasure. 488 Sure to Get Rich; or, A Smart Young Messenger. For sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any address on receipt of price, 5 cents per copy, in money or postage stamps. by FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, - - = - - - IF YOU WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS of our weeklies and cannot procure them from newsdealers, fill in your Order and send it to us with the price of the week lies you want and we will send POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS MONEY. FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, So See eer 168 West 23d St., New York. they can be obtained from this office direct. Write out and them to you by return mail 168 West 23d St., New York. given. ete ot ee See ouR TEN-CENT HAND BOOHS No. 46. HOW TO MAKE AND USE ELEC- TRICITY.—A description of the wonderful uses of electricity and electro magnetism; to- gether with full instructions for making Elec- tric Toys, Batteries, etc. By George Trebel, A.M.. M.D. Containing over fifty illustra- tions. No. 47. HOW TO BREAK, RIDE AND DRIVE A HORSE.—A complete treatise on the horse. Describing the most useful horses for business, the best horses for the road; also valuable recipes for diseases peculiar to rse. 48. HOW TO BUILD AND SAIL CANOES.—A handy book for boys, contain- ing full directions for constructing canoes and the most popular manner of sailing them. Fully illustrated. Ne. 49. HOW TO. DEBATE.—Giving rules for conducting debates, outlines for debates, questions for discussion, and the best sources for procuring information on the question No. 50. HOW TO STUFF BIRDS AND AN- IMALS.—A valuable book, giving instructions in collecting, preparing, mounting and pre- serving birds, animals and insects. No. 51. HOW TO DO TRICKS WITH CARDS.—Containing explanations of the gen- eral principles of sleight-of-hand applicable to card tricks, of card tricks with ordinary cards, and not requiring sleight-of-hand; of tricks involving sleight-of-hand, or the use of specially prepared cards. Illustrated. No. 52. HOW TO PLAY CARDS.—Giving the rules and full directions for playing Buchre, Cribbage, Casino, Forty-Five, Rounce, Pedro Sancho, Draw Poker, Auction Pitch, All Fours, and many other popular games of cards. No. 58. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS.—A wonderful little book, telling you how to write to your sweetheart, your father, mother, sis- ter. brother, employer; and, in fact, every- body. and anybody you wish to write to. No. 54. HOW TO KEEP AND MANAGE PETS.—Giving complete information as to the manner and method of raising, keeping, tam- ing breeding, and managing all kinds of pets; also giving full instructions for making cages, etc. Fully explained by twenty-eight ifus- trations. No. 55. HOW TO COLLECT STAMPS AND COINS.—Containing valuable informa- tien regarding the collecting and arranging of stamps and coins. Handsomely lilustrated. No. HOW TO BECOME AN _ EN- GINEER.— Containing full instructions how to become a locomotive engineer; also directions for building a model locomotive; together full description of everything an en- gineer should know. No. 606. HOW TO BECOME A PHOTOG- RAPHER.—Containing useful information re- arding the Camera and how to work it; also ow to make Photographic Magic Lantern Slides and other Transparencies. Handsomely illustrated. No. 62. HOW TO BECOME A _ WEST POINT MILITARY CADET.—Explains how to gain admittance, course of Study, Examina- tions, Duties, Staff of Officers, Post Guard, Po- lice Regulations, Fire Department, and all @ boy should know to be a cadet. By Lu Senar- ens. No. 63. HOW TO BECOME A NAVAL CADET.—Complete instructions of how to gain admission to the Annapolis Naval Academy. Also containing the course of instruction, de- scription of grounds and buildings, historical sketch, and everything a boy sheuld know to become an officer in the United States Navy. By Lu Senarens. No. 64. HOW TO MAKE ELECTRICAL MACHINES.—Containing full directions for making electrical machines, induction coils, dynamos, and many novel toys to be worked by electricity. By R. A. R. Bennet. Fully illustrated. No. 65. MULDOON’S JOKES.—The most original joke book ever published, and it is brimful of wit and humor. It contains a large collection of songs, jokes, conundrums, etc., of Terrence Muldoon, the great wit, hu- morist, and practical joker of the day. No. 66. HOW TO DO PUZZLES.—Con- taining over three hundred interesting puzzles and cenundrums, with key to same. A com- plete book. Fully illustrated. No. 67. HOW TO DO ELECTRICAL TRI€KS.—Containing a large collection of in- structive and highly amusing electrical tricks, together with illustrations. By A. Anderson. No. 68. HOW TO DO CHEMICAL TRICKS. —Containing over one hundred highly amus- ing and instructive tricks with chemicals. By A. Anderson. Handsomely illustrated. No. 69. HOW TO DO SLEIGHT-OF-HAND. —Containing over fifty of the latest and best tricks used by magicians. Also containing the secret of second sight. Fully illustrated. No. 70. HOW TO MAKE MAGIC TOYS.— Containing full dfrections for making Magic Toys and devices of many kinds. Fully illus- trated. No. 7. HOW TO DO MECHANICAL TRICKS.—Containing complete instructions for performing over sixty Mechanical Tricks. Fully illustrated. No. 72. HOW TO DO SIXTY TRICKS WITH CARDS.—Embracing all of the latest and most deceptive card tricks, with illus- trations. No. 73. HOW TO DO TRICKS WITH BERS. —Showing many curious tricks with figures and the magic of numbers. By pa ae ae en ee ‘e. . WRITE LETTERS CORRECTLY.—Containing full instructions for writing letters on almost any subject; also rules for punctuation and composition, with specimen letters. No. 15. HOW TO BECOME A CONJURER, —Containing tricks with Dominoes, Dice, Cups and Balls, Hats, etc. Embracing thirty- six illustrations. By A. Anderson. No. 76. HOW TO TELL FORTUNES BY THE HAND.—Containing rules for telling for- tunes by the aid of lines of the hand, or the secret of palmistry. Also the secret of telling future events by aid of moles, marks. scars, etc. Illustrated. No. 77. HOW TO DO FORTY TRICKS WITH CARDS.—Containing deceptive Card Tricks as performed by leading conjurers and magicians. Arranged for home amusement. Fully Ulustrated. No. 78. HOW TO DO THE BLACK ART. —Containing a complete description of the mysteries of Magic and Sleight-of-Hand, to- gether with many wonderful experiments. By A. Anderson. Illustrated. No. 79. HOW TO BECOME AN ACTOR, —Containing complete instructions how to make up for various characters on the stage; together with the duties of the Stage Manager, Prompter, Scenic Artist and Property Man. No. 80. GUS WILLIAMS’ JOKE BOOK.— Containing the latest jokes, anecdotes and funny stories of this world-renowned German comedian. Sixty-four pages; handsome col- ored cover, containing a half-tone photo of the author. : No. 81. HOW TO MESMERIZE.—Contain- ing the most approved methods of mesmer- ism; animal magnetism, or, maghe heal- A.C.S. author ing. By Prof. Leo Hugo Koch, of “How to Hypnotize,”’ etc. No. 82. HOW TO DO PALMISTRY.—Con- taining the most approved methods ,oF read- ing the lines on the hand, together with a full explanation of their meaning. Also explain- ing phrenology, and the key for tell char- acter by the bumps on the head. ; Leo Hugo Koch, A.C.S._ Fully illustrated. No. 83. HOW TO HYPNOTIZE.—Contain- ing valuable and instructive information re- garding the science of hypnotism. Also ex- plaining the most approved methods, which are employed by the leading hypnotists of — the world. By Leo Hugo Koch, A.C.8, No. 84. HOW TO BECOME AN AUTH —Containing information regarding pte mim subjects, the use of words and the manner of preparing and submitting manuscript Also containing valuable information — to the neatness, legibility and general composition of manuscript. For sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any address on receipt of price, 10 cts. per copy, vr 3 for 25 cts., in money or postage stamps, by FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, - - - - * Bg gS bags AWE Fa - 168 West 23d St., New York. ‘