Fame And Fortune Weekly (no. 541) (1916 02 11)

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_ FEBRUARY 11, 1916 ee OE NY Ny wey aN RRL Swinging aloft

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ame and Fortune Weckiy STORIES OF BOYS WHO MAKE MONEY issued Weekly—By Subscription $2.50 per year. Mntered at the New York, N. Y., Post Office es Second-Class Matter, by Frank Tousey, Publisher, 168 West. 23d Street, New Yorn. No. 541. NEW YORK, FEBRUARY 11, 1916. Price 5 Cents. ese er THE BOY WHO FOUND IT OUT By A SELF-MADE MAN and he wondered how long Jack's patience would hold out against his uncle’s systematic ill-treatment. “You've been living on this farm ever since I can remem- ber,” said Munson. “I’ve been here eleven years.” “Your uncle wasn’t always as hard on you as he is now.” “No. He treated me fair enough at first. Sent me to school when school kept, and only expected me to do such chores as I could attend to. As soon as I was strong enough he put me fo work in the fields with Andy, who was then only a big boy.. I. was always willing to do my share of work, and he can’t say I ever shirked what was laid out for me to do.” “You've the reputation of being a hustler,” nodded Bob. “Even at play, with the rest of us chaps, you have always - taken the lead. We all miss you these days because you don’t seem able to get away as often as we could wish. You ought to have more time to amuse yourself.” “I ought to have a good many things that I don’t get. Look at these clothes. This is my best suit.” ’ Bob looked; and was obliged to admit that Jack’s attire was nothing to brag about. CHAPTER I. JACK GRANGER AND HIS FRIEND BOB. . *Hello, Jack, what’s the matter? You're looking down in the mouth.” said Bob Munson. “I guess I don’t look any worse than I feel,” replied Jack Granger, soberly. “Peen having another run-in with your Uncle Ezra?” “Yes. He's getting worse every day. If it wasn’t for Aunt Mary I'd pull up stakes.and run away. I’m sick and tired of being pulled over the coals for nothing.” “I don't blame you. You're having a hard time of it.” “Bet your life I am. The farm is going to the dogs ever since Mr. Stapleton got into the habit of hanging around the tavern talking politics instead of attending to work. Andy MeVike, our hired man, is getting disgusted, too. His wages are in arrears, and he has threatened to leave. That’s what made Mr. Stapleton mad this morning, and as he was afraid to say much to Andy, lest he pack up and quit, he took sat- _ isfaction out of me.” ; : “What did you have to do with the matter?” ~ arena tS '4Nothing.” None of the boys in the neighborhood was able to* sport “Then why did your uncle go for you?” fine clothes, that is, none but Herbert Gleason, the village _ “Pecause he wanted to get square on somebody.” lawyer’s son, but there was not one but had a better suit iy = “And you were the victim,” said Bob, sympathetically. than Jack’s best. ; > *¥es, as usual,” growled Jack, with a frown. As for his every-day garments, the least said the better— : + “it's a blamed shame,” replied Bob, indignantly. Mr. Stapleton considered them good enough for work about E “That's what it is.” the farm, and he was either unwilling, or unable, to pro- e “Yon work harder on the farm than any two boys I know|cure better ones for the boy. ; of. . “If it was me I’d want a better outfit for Sundays,” said en “I try to do my duty.” Bob. ‘ . Z “1 don’t see that you get much for doing it.” . ' “If Mr. Stapleton was your uncle you could take it out in Eg “I get abused right along. wanting,” replied Jack. . : a ‘“*Doesn’t your uncle pay you anything?” “Tm glad I've got a father, and am not dependent on any 2 _“Net a cent.” seg : uncle,” answered Bob, and he had never appreciated that ad- “Why, any farmer around here would be glad to hire you! vantage as he did at that moment. Bs oe and giye you a square deal,” said Bob. - “You're lucky, Bob. If I had a father things would be “a “1 ss they would. I had a good offer from John Varney, | different with me.” ig oo knows what I'm up-egainst,” “Ig Mrs. Stapleton your father’s or your mother's sister?” “Why don’t you take it? Your uncle hasn’t any claim on| “Father's. She and father thought the world of each other." wh 4 “J don’t wonder, then, that she treats you well.” f. °ai would take it in two sbakes of a lamb’s tail only I} “She thinks a lot of me, and does a lot for me; that’s why “a *t want to leave Aunt Mary. She's been as good as a|I’m willing to stand a whole lot for her.” a her to me ever since my own mother died, and I was “T suppose she has her own troubles with Mr. Stapleton.” ° wi On my own resources. She gave me a home when I} “He doesn’t abuse her any, I'll say that for him, but there sd one, and I wouldn't go back on her for a farm,” said| are other ways a man can make his wife miserable. Her _ resolutely. : eee peace of mind doesn’t seem to count much with him: or he'd). al n't help respecting his friend's loyalty to his aunt, quit wasting his time and money at the village tavern. He ME PG > : 4 ' we : i ‘ae 4

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‘ THE ROAD thing changed him, and he’s been going from bad to worse yy degrees. If he keeps on he'll lose the farm.” “Is it mortgaged?” _ -“Not that I know of. I don’t believe he could raise much on it, It’s the smallest one in this neighborhood, and rather ‘out at the elbows. The fences are dilapidated, a good part of it is stony, and the house is much the worse for wear. I heard Farmer Jenkins say a little while ago that he wouldn’t ae the place for a gift, but of course he didn’t really mean The two boys were standing in the road not far from the lane that led to the Stapleton farmhouse, which was situated on the summit of a low bluff overlooking a long and narrow indentation of the Massachusetts coast off Vineyard Sound. Jack Granger, the elder of the two, was a strong, well- ‘made boy, with a frank, honest face, tanned by exposure to the sun and all kinds of weather. He was a manly, fearless-looking lad, and his strongly chis- ind countenance bespoke an unusual resolute and ambitious nature. A physiognomist would have said that he was a boy that was bound to succeed in whatever he undertook. All the girls of the neighborhood said Jack was handsome, and it is to be presumed that their opinion was worth some- thing. ‘ At any rate, he was a popular favorite with them as well as with the lads, too. Bob Munson, his particular friend, was the only son of a well-to-do farmer, whose land adjoined the Stapleton prop- rty, and Bob’s sister Grace held first place among the girls n Jack’s esteem. Bob was a good fellow, though not in the same class, physi- cally and mentally speaking, with Jack Granger. He thought a lot of Jack, and was never so contented as - when in his company. The two boys had no secrets from each other, and what Jack wasn't willing to do for Bob isn’t worth mentioning. Jack was a little over five: years of age when his mother's death made him an orphan, and he came from Boston to live with his father’s sister Mary. At that time, and for many years after, Ezra Stapleton was a fairly prosperous farmer, though he never was a tee sociable or popular Iman, and things went very well on the s farm. A couple of years before the opening of this story Mr. Jeton had a streak of hard luck—his crops failed, and “met with some financial losses where he had expected jo make easy money—and his disposition and ‘habits suffered pee it: One would have thought that his nephew was the cause ft his trouble from the way he made a dead set at him and ; it up. _ Frem a moderate drinker he became a more or less in- rate one. ; talk, both at home and at the tavern, showed that he had a standing grouch against the world, and when a mood of this kind takes hold of a man his prespects are not oe ‘ ve, but are more apt to take a slump. Jack had beeen to. the village store, half a mile away, for 3 eh ipplies his aunt needed, and his arms were filled with He had pe Mr. Stapleton sunning himself on the front ore in company with a couple of kindred spir- Daaatowintien against the community, and his : peed MePike to leave the farm, “abused the lad in such terms that Jack returned home- WV Tos no very kind feelings in his heart toward his approaches. the entrance to the farm Bob Munson, = ee to the village, came along. and, ag a re Tobbea boys” stopped to have a talk. ws eal as SP: dressmaker, ene Prim. When used to be industrious enough once upon a time, but some-/’ to get on. T’ve got a ‘note to cousin encased themselves in after getting out of their nel, ‘show very. ‘plainly TO WEALTH. “T won’t promise, but I’ll be there if I can.” “We'll look for you, anyway. Good-by.” “Good-by, Bob.” — - weed turned in at the lane, while Bob continued on to the llage. CHAPTER Il. JACK’S DISCOVERY. At a point alongshore opposite the diyiding line between the Stapleton and Munson farms there was the wreck of an old scow. It had been there for many months, and it marked the place where the farm and village boy came to bathe during the — season when that sport was most inviting. About sundown on the day with which our story opens a dozen boys were to be seen in various stages of undress preparing for a swim in the water tinged by the last rays of the declining sun. “Do you think Jack will be here 7” Will Watson asked Bob Munson, “Dunno,” replied Bob, kicking off his shoes. come if. he could.” “He ought to be able to come. this place.” “Ezra Stapleton, his uncle, might take it into his head to 3 prevent him. He’s mean enough to do most anything to Jack.” “Why should he want to prevent him coming in swimming? Isn’t it the best thing for a fellow’s health, especially when he’s been working all day in the fields, like Jack is deing these days?” “Don’t-ask me why Hzra Stapleton would want to prevent him coming in swimming, or doing anything else. All I know is that he has a standing grouch against Jack, and it seems to do him good to make his ee as miserable as he can.” “I’ve heard that he and Jack» are not pulling very well of late, but I don’t see why that should prevent gisnaee coming in swimming.” =. “He said he'd He lives close enough to “Well, if he comes he'll be here, and if he don’t come he won't be here. That’s all I can tell you about it,” replied Bob. Two Yfainutes later every boy in the bunch was disporting himself in the water. Nothing but a lot of heads moving this way or that, or a splashing arm, was to be seen on the surface. Anybody out of sight on the bluff above would have known they were there from the shouts and cries that came up from the inlet. “ After swimming about for a quarter ‘of an hour the boys climbed out on the scow, which, as the tide was low, was wholly exposed, and perched themselves about in all sorts : of attitudes.- At this moment two newcomers appeared on the scene, each: carrying a small hand-satchel. These were Herbert Gleason, the best-dressed boy in the village—and the most important one, in his ewn estimation “2 and his city cousin, George Paul. : “Here come the dudes,” grinned Will Watson, pointing them out to his companions. = “What have they got in those satchels?” asked Joe Con- . verse. : “Bathing-suits, Til bet,” said Bob Munson. - q Gleason and Paul made their way down a path to the 7 shore, went to a big roek, took their suits out of their srips, and began to undress. The other. boys watehed them with some curiosity. for — though Herbert associated with them for companionship sake, _ he always gave them to understand by his manner that they were not in his class, and the boys rather resented his rs , ronizing ways. ; " They were pretty loud-looking suits that Herbert pies arments. > ey were made of alternate stripes of red and white fan: and they looked pretty gay. “You ought to be able to hear those suits all the way “Martha's Vineyard, ” chuckled Bob Munson. _ sates you" re jealous, Bob,” laughed Tom Hiteheock. x quarter that we don’t ia an lar it

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TH ROAD TO WBALTH. some moments in order that the other boys might get a | pretty sight to see them flash through the water, neck and — ‘a good look at their swimming suits, and then they went in. | neck. JF es x “You can’t say those two chaps aren’t in the swim,” said} As soon as the other Inds saw what was in the wind they * Will Watson, evidently intending the remark as a joke. set up shouts of glee, and began to encourage Jack to do his = sey f tt was only an indifferent swimmer, but his cousin} best. ’ 5h demonstrated that he was a crackerjack, and the rest} All-but Bob had returned to the scow, and he started fer : ‘at “othe boys were lost in admiration over his performances. . it as soon as he saw the race in progress. * ies “That fellow can swim circles around some of us,” a *Go it, Jack!” shouted Will Watson; dancing about on the _ Jee Converse, rather enviously. | edge of the scow like a monkey on a hot stove. “Put in your “He’s all to the good,” replied Tom Hitchcock, wagging | best licks.” his head sagaciously. “Get a hustle on, Granger!” roared Tom Hitchcock. “Whoop “There's one of us he can’t swim circles around, ’ll bet aj ber up!” : ete hat, and that is Jack Granger.” “Come now, Jack, what's the matter with you?” howled “Here comes Jack now,” shouted Will Watson. Joe Converse. “You haven't gained an inch.” “Hi, hi, Jack, we’ve been waiting for you,” cried Bob, The rest of the crowd yelped and cheered as the swimmers getting up and waying his arms. came on head to head as before. : ‘Then he took .a header, and as if that was a signal for| As for Herbert Gleason, he was disgusted with his cousin v the others, a dozen ‘splashes announced that all the boys| for condescending to race with a conimon farmhand, as he re- a were in the water once more. — = bets sha. Sis "engnencn “aekalaitaias hea “ By th nck ‘ . th m astonishe 1 ntentedly, as Whote peat aE Nb Sees tah Gace welttine 408 him | he stood on the shore a short distance away, and regarded , to join them 4 the race with a disapproving eye. z “Who's that yonder?” he asked Bob, noticing the heads “It’s going sb yd a Miah sttre as Rk live,” said 3 _ of Herbert and his cousin swimming about by themselves. Wks iaee koe Wig oeemamner wall capac oe ae ar a, Herbert Gleason and some city chap that’s staying with ie ; Was the ae é P + him. They haven't been near us since they came here. You Hitchcock. “That chap has the advantage of him.*_ ought to tee their swimming suits. They’re peaches for color. Whether George Paul had any particular advantage or ; oe Put you in mind of a stithes out on the Sound.” not in the race, certain it is that both he and Jack slapped = “ ” | their right hands on the end of the scow together. z One of them is a dandy swhnmer, I can see,” said Jack, - wore : Sis Pa ; 4 “and that, I know, isn’t Gleason.” Shake,” said Paul, in a friendly way, extending his hand, ‘d “You can bet your life {t isn’t. Herbert can't swith worth which Jack took. “There doesn’t seem to be much difference sour apples, but the other fellow—well, say, he’s almost as ng ori aa ieee vac oe, lee ae ad f ee ae eo) ae ee introduced to the stranger. After a short chat Paul remarked that he guessed he'd — ay good as you.” , ¥ ; “He may be, better.” an pea Come up on the scow and I'll introduce you « “?? cries Teer. ey bet ay etka” 08. you.” G Paul was soon nodding to and shaking hands with “— “AN right; have it your way.—I’ll_give you four yards eorge g A g hands w a “. ve flying start, and-rate y ou out to that sinke” sata said Jack. amare squatted down on the shore, more * ur huckleberry, though I guess you'll beat me all At this moment Bob Munson reached the seow, and was b. e * peplied Bob. ies yo Bob was the te bani swimmer to Jack, and the boys < ene, Se ioe a peatdtur dive tet brought him up about have to go back to his cousin, as Gleason looked lonesome. five yards away, and as he struck out for the stake Jack The boys voted him the right sort of chap as they began went in pursuit with regular and powerful strokes that 7 Cit theie ype a bus v ae fans a pulled his body through the water Mke'a fish ae On ne A i Ars hg Bob was within a yard of the goal when Jack glided past sas did you do 4 for?” * iow tics as bo Efendi ace th hi ft hand, kicking the water In| «what did I do it for? Because T made a discovery." fg! spew you'd beat me,” puffed Bob, grabbing the pole| <4 discovery!” exclaimed Bob. ue - a: ind oe, ae ey ps he 45 Lee) “Yes, I found something.” “Yon didn’t know it. You only thought so. I only won ane fo nh yes a waa by an eyelash, anyway,” returned Jack. _ “Here come the rest of the bunch,” said Bob. — ie oe ae in ae “Let ‘em come.” HAPT . _ With Will Watson in the lead and Tom Hitchcock a close _ ee wg d. the others were rapidly approaching the pole. THE WRECK OF THE CALIOPE. As they came up Jack let go of the pole and dived. “The deck of a big ship!” repeated Bob, with a puzzled Ms ayed under a long, time—so 5 in fact, that his| look. im Gtawon began to look a bit anxious. “Yes,” nodded Jack. “The rest of the ship is imbedled in — ~ Wher he came up he was more than thirty feet away, and! the soft mud.” te George Faul, Herbert's cousin. “How do you know it is a big ship?” é ou're a fine swimmer,” said Paul, pleasantly, for he rec-| “By her width of beam.” i -ogetant Jack as the boy who had won the handicap race to} “It's funny that a big ship should have sunk in the 2 the pe ble. and lost her masts, and nobody be any the wiser.” oo pnks. I’m pretty fair. You seem to be an expert your-| “That depends.” aig " “On what?” oe ~ mag allow that I ain’t bad at it. What's your name?” “When and under what conditions the ship went down.” ack Granger.” : “What should bring a big ship into the inlet?” rg e Is George Paul. Do you belong to one of the farms; “A storm might bring it there for one thing, if the wind | re?” blew in the right direction at the time.” z f “Yes, the Stapleton farm. “My uncle owns it.” mi glad to know you, and hope I'll see more of you. I’d to join you fellows, but = cousin doesn’t care to do so reason.” “That’s so,” admitted Bob. “But I never heard of any ship being blown into the inlet and then going to the bot- tom.” “Lots of things have happened in this world that you haven't heard about.” “That’s true enough. Same in your “Didn't you ever hear the story of the British ‘s was chased into Vineyard Sound by one of our: ser the close of the war of 1812?” “Do you mean the Caliope? My 1 : 4 She was an armed ae tas Sar pime Gleason your cousin?” asked Jack. my mother’s side. By the way, ‘Granger, I'd like a sa you from here to that scow, if you're

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and overhauled her just off this shore. She put up a game fight, but would certainly have been captured only that a thick fog came up at the critical moment, and the Decatur lost her. Next morning a lot of wreckage and a shattered boat with the name Caliope was discovered along the shore of the inlet, from which indications it was believed that the vessel had sunk.” “You'ye got it down fine, Bob. That’s the vessel I'm talk- ing about.” “Well, what about her?” “T'm certain that I stood on her deck when I went under water that time.” “What makes you think so?” asked Bob, with undisguised interest. “Because I noticed two old-fashioned cannon ‘pointing through the remains of a bulwark, in which were evidences of shot holes.” if “You don’t say!” cried Bob, in ‘some excitement. 3 “And I saw an old-style musket and a_ boarding- pike jammed against the base of the bulwark by one of the guns.” “We must get them,” said Bob. “They'll be great curi- osities.” : “I'd rather get something else.” “What's that?” “The treasure that’s in the vessel's cabin.” “What treasure?” asked Bob, with bulging eyes. “Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in English sov- ere’ ey “Two hundred and fifty thou—say, what are you talking about, anyway, Jack?” “I'm talking about the chest of money in that vessel's cabin.” “How do you know there’s any money in her cabin?” “If that’s the remains of the British ship Caliope that was chased into the Sound by the American brig Decatur, in the early spring of 1815, there’s a box of gold sovereigns worth a quarter of a million in her cabin, if it still exists, or in the mud, if it doesn’t.” “Supposing that it is the ship Caliope that was chased into the inlet by the Decatur, how could you know that there was a treasure box in her cabin: “TI know it by an official account I saw printed in a book English marine disasters. The was known to have escaped from the Decautur, but was believed to have after- ward foundered somewhere along the coast, or at sea, from the supposed effect of shot-holes between wind and water received during the action. At any rate, she never reached _ iiny port, nor were her officers or crew heard from.” “It seems to me-that if she ran into the inlet. and then Went down, that it would have been an easy matter for ee body on board to reach shore.” : t’s the only thing that puzzles me,” admitted Jack. “The only way I can account for it is that. owing to the dense fog the people aboard of her had no idea where they were, and in the confusion of her going down that they: took _ to the beats and rowed out into Nantucket Sound, when, if they had only known, they had a shore within fifty yards of —_ on every side but the direction they had come.” ' ata I should think oy might have hewn picked up a a a a ae rae fost. é “Did the official account say that the Catiope had a treasure cS chest = her cabin?” eit "That's how I happened to learn about it.” ace ‘that vessel you located in the inlet a little while the. bin think the money must be there?” nt it wouldn’t be. It was probably stowed “an. se chest, and I take it that ebest is now at the bot- Ao of the inlet.” Med was silent for a moment ‘or two. a ‘upposing it is there, how can it be got at?” “That's for you Enis Bob, to figure a I think it’s he while.” , ‘$n a quarter o amie gan say “That's the amount given in the account." _ SGee wh _ ‘Suppo s were so fortunate as to get nota : aa ak er tipi arp en- and eluded him, coming up at the cpposite side. THE ROAD TO WEALTH. sense. The only way to find out if the treasure chest is there is to first examine the wreck with the aid of a diver’s outfit. To purchase or lease such an outfit will cost money. I haven’t any just now, and I don’t believe that you have a superabundance of funds. So the treasure will have to re- main at the bottom of the inlet for the present. Even if we _ had the funds we'd have to learn how to use the outfit. I propose to learn how when the time comes. There’s one satisfaction, at any rate, the money is in gold coin, and no amount of sea water will hurt it any.” “TI guess it'll be a long time before we get any nearer that money than we are now,” said Bob, with a wry look. “Some- body else may get onto the fact that it’s there, and get ahead of us.” “I hope not,” replied Jack. “As that wreck has laid there unnoticed for over eighty years, I think it stands a good chance of evading attention for a while longer. At any rate, Wwe can’t do anything toward recovering the money at pres- ent. Of course, you want to keep your mouth shut about what I have told you. If the news got abroad that a wreck, suspected to be the Caliope, lay at the bottom of the inlet, you'd see a diving outfit.at work there in a very short time; then it would be good-by to the treasure chest as far as we were concerned.” “Oh, I won’t say a word about it,” assured Bob. such a fool,” “That’s right. A still tongue is the sign of a wise head, my aunt says. We will talk this matter over again, and maybe some day we'll find the way to get at that treasure and make ourselves rich. Good-night.” *“Good-night, Jack,” and the boys separated. “I'm not CHAPTER IV. WHAT JACK FOUND IN THE FIELD. Jack found his supper waiting for. him im the oven, as he expected,eand he ate it at the kitchen table. He had almost finished it when Ezra Stapleton, a strap- ping man of nearly six feet, with a bunch of grizzly beard on his chin, came in from the barnyard. He stopped and looked at the boy with a forbidding counte- nance. “Well, where have you been?” he asked, harshly. “Swimming,” replied Jack, in a conciliatory tone. “Who told you that you could go swimmin’?” demanded his unele. “Nobody,” answered the boy, eyeing his relative askance. and mentally calculating the distance that lay between him and the door. 7 “I suppose you think that you can do as you please around this place because your aunt is so soft toward you, eb?” said Mr. Stapleton, disagreeably. “No, sir, I didn't go to the inlet until IT had finished up all the chores.” ‘ “You drove the cows home, didn’t you?” asked his uncle, sarcastically. “No, sir. Andy ‘attended to that.” “T knew he did. But it was your ace to de it. somethin” else to do.” “Andy said he'd do it.” “I don’t care what he said. I won't have him attendin’ to your business, d’ye understand?” Jack made no reply. which seemed to anger Mr. Stapleton. _ “Why don't you answer me, you whelp?” be roared. ~ “You have no right to call me such a name as that,” fuahed ’ Jack. _ ; ‘ “Oh, I hain’t, eh? By heavens, things are comin’ to a pre pass when a young cub like you starts in to tell me what should or should not do. What you want is a good lickin’ — with a raw hide, and I’m goin’ to give it to you this minute.” — He made a swoop at the boy, but Jack slid under the table — He has é en 3r 1% Mr. Stapleton, who was not any too sober. made a caiculation in his eagerness to grab Jack, and fell orep chair just vacated by the boy. He came down with a crash on the floor, carrying. “i chair and the table with its small collection of Stakes, ; him. mak the tter worse, struck his forehea i, ket amd eut Pye 2 Met ay eH bled f ad

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> THE same _ The ypise naturally attracted the attention of Mrs. Stapleton, who was sewing in the next room, and she came _ Tunning to the spot. “Why, Ezra, what is tue matter?” she exclaimed in dismay. _ “What have you been doing to yourself?” __ Mr. Stapleton paid no attetnion to her, but glared around ia search of the boy he fully intended to horsewhip for what he considered his insolence. = »_ “I suppose it's my fault, Aunt Mary,” said Jack, from the doorway. “Mr. Stapleton,” the boy never called. the man -uncle, “said he was going to whip me with a rawhide. I was finishing my supper at, the table, and he made a grab at me. I slipped out of his reach, and he fell over the chair and pulled the table down with him.” Jack's explanation drew his uncle’s eyes in his direction, and the man struggled to get up, muttering incoherent ex- pressions of anger, Mrs. Stapleton was a small woman, but she was not afraid of her big husband. In her youth she had been very spunky, and her decided ways had enabled her to obtain a considerable influence over her, husband. While it was physically possible for him to have knocked her into the middle of next week, so to speak, with one hand, he entertained a certain amount of respect for her convictions and attitude, and never courted a clash with her. If he swore in her presence it was under his breath, and the _ idea of laying a finger on her in anger never occurred to him. Mrs. Stapleton went to her husband and assisted him to his feet. and then planted herself between him and her nephew. Ezra lcoked at her, and glared at the boy, but made no ef- fort to reach him. “Go and wash your face, Ezra,” she said. forehead.” 3 Mechanically he put his hand to his temple, and then took _ _. it away smeared with his. blood. . ‘His lips niovedbut iO Sound came forth: 100K he cast at Jack, however, told the character of his Pr ae a ee ee ; Grimsby’s store that’s He siood for a moment hesitating in the middle of the floor, then he went to the sink, and, turning some water from a bucket into a tin pan, laved his face; Mrs. Stapleton made a significant gesture toward her nephew, and Jack vanished. “You've cut your. TO WEALTH. 5 he'll find out somethin’ he won’t like if he strikes you with anythin’ harder than his hand.” “You mustn't get yourself into trouble on my account, Andy,” objected Jack. “Don’t you worry about me. I can take care of myself.” “If you have a scrap with ‘Mr. Stapleton you'll have to leave, the farm, anyway.” Andy shrugged his shoulders, locked the barn door, and he and Jack returned to the house. ‘ The kitchen was empty, the fire banked in the stove for the morning, and all evidences of the recent trouble removed. Andy locked and barred the door, and the two went upstairs together. Both were up before sunrise attending to their duties. ; At seven o’clock they went into the house for breakfast. Mr. Stapleton was at the table. He scowled at Jack, which showed that he hadn’t forgotten the unpleasant occurrence of the evening before. “We're goin’ to take some of the stone out of the field on the bluff this mornin’,” he said, breaking his silence for the © first time when the meal was nearly over. the fence along the road.” Jack thought it was about time the fence was repaired, but considered it should have been done when work about the farm was slack. “You'll hitch the gray mare to the waggin, Andy,” Mr. Sta- pleton continued, “and take Jack with you. I'll be along to see that you do things right.” “I wonder what’s started him to fix up the fer-e at this time,” said Andy, as he and Jack walked toward the barn. “Don’t ask me, Andy. It’s a freak he’s taken, I guess.” “If he continues to loaf the afternoons in the village all summer he'll have to hire another hand next month, or take the risk of losin’ half his hay.” “Aunt gave him a talking-to the other night, but it doesn’t seem to have dane much good. The village influence has got too strong a held over him.” “I’m goin’ to repair ~~. ee “I'd like to uke those tavern chaps and give ‘em a good ~ duckin’ in the nearest horse pond,” said Andy. need a ecoolin’-off.” They hitched the gray mare to the stout wagon, and Andy drove the team into the long, narrow field that bordered on “T think they |the bluff overlooking the inlet. This field had never been cultivated, for it was too rocky for Going to the barn, the boy found Andy McPike finishing his |raising anything but weeds and wild flowers. last duties for the night. “You look excited, Jack. \Whet’s the matter?” @ strapping young fellow of twenty-two. “Just a scrap with Mr. Stapleton.” “That's gettin’ to be an every-day occurrence,” grinned the ‘farmhand. “What’s the cause this time?” “He kicked because I went swimming this evening.” “Oh, he did? You had a right to go, didn’t you?” -. (“IT think T had.” | Men, course you had, He'p gettin’ to be a howlin’ terror of “it's the-tavern and the loafers he meets arias and at Mr. making him so.” “I believe you. He’s altogether a different man to what he wee a couple of years ago.” “Are you” going to leave the farm, Andy?” asked Jack, a asked Andy, fully.’ bes haven't decided. I pate an offer from Farmer Atwood, , wants me badly. I would have no trouble gettin’ my wages . Still, I’ve been here eight years, ever since I was a ‘boy, and I'm bound to say that I like your aunt first-class.” “And you like me, too, don’t you, Andy?” Sure I do. Yd hate to part company with you. But I'm ttin’ tired of Mr. Stapleton. It riles me to see the way he andles you without gloves, when you’re worth your weight n gold about the place. “I've often wondered why you didn’t sat after one of your rackets. I should if Pa been in your fas Yio whe dont.” 1 as even it's on your aunt’s acco each She’s the best friend eS and mat right to sta d by her. Well, how did n o metallic substance that lay under the stone. its bed and it to one side. ston got the worst of it rhs cas but I'm gener. Then he Kove Sf the hole. r bi square with me f ’ They began to fill the wagon with stones suitable tou. re- pairing the road fence. By the time the wagon was nearly full Mr. Stapleton ap- — peared on the scene. He was in his shirt sleeves,.with an old straw hat on his head, and his pants stuck into the tops of his boots. He watched them while they finished loading. load,” he said to Jack. He motioned Andy to get up on the seat, then he followed, : took up the reins, and drove into the lane. Jack, left to himself, obeyed orders, and started in to gather — ae a pile of stones. He worked steadily for half an hour, and by that time had accumulated quite a lot of material for the second load. - Then he sat on a rock deeply imbedded in the soil to take a brief rest, f-r the sun was hot and there wasn’t a breath of : air stirring. At his feet lay another rock, not very large. The rains of the preceding spring had partially SE it on the side nearest to Jack, leaving a crevice in the Benes The morning sun shining down fnto this glistened upon “1 wonder what that is?” thought Jack. His curiosity was excited, so he knelt down and beers into : r the crevice. | “It looks like a box,” he muttered. stone up if I can.” A small claw-hammer lay close by, which he of the m to loosen the stones with. With the help of this he succeeded in raaains vie. tere “I’m going to pull There lay a rusty, oblong, japarined tin box. “1 wonder what’s in ete Jack asked aS edd he muttered as he took hold of | “You stay. here and get a pile of stones ready for the next — had taken out i

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Se . THE ROAD TO WEALTH. - ‘grabbing the hammer and beating the tin cover in just above _ the lock. . The lock presently snapped, and the cover fiew open. “Great Christopher!” exclaimed the boy, devouring his find _ with bulging eyes. ~ ~~ The tin box appeared to be full of tarnished twenty-dollar gold pieces. CHAPTER V. CUT OFF BY THE TIDE. “Gee! What a find!” exclaimed Jack, after his first ae of astonishment had subsided. “There must be more’n a thou- sand dollars here.” He fingered the money over, and as the brighter gold pieces undernezth came to the surface they sparkled gayly in the if sunshine. ; “My gracious!” breathed the boy, “this little unproductive ~ ). ,gere of ground of mine has turned up trumps. This is what >. I call a golden crop.” _ In order to explain Jack’s remark we will say that this par- tienlar part of the Stapleton foren never had belonged to his Uncle Ezra. - The man who sold the farm to Mr. Stapleton retained the title to this strip of rocky ground because he wanted to make =, use of the rock for a certain purpose he had in mind at the P time, and as it was unproductive, and he made an allowance “4 on the price of the whole land to make up-for it, Mr. Stapleton : agreed to purchase the farm without this section, which amounted in all to only about an acre. as The man subsequentiy decided that he didn’ t want the stone, and he proposed to Mr. Stapleton that he pay him the amount he had allowed and take the land. _ Hara refused to do it, knowing the ground was useless to the man, and offered him a mere pittance for the strip. The owner, understanding Mr. Stapleton’s object, was so angry that he called the deal off, which didn’t particularly worry Ezra, as he had.no use-for the ground except as a kind 4 of pasture, and it was not of much use even for that purpose. Ten years passed away, and then the man died. ts ee his vie meet A was found espe he had left this ¢ groun oung Jac twelv d, to whom he had taken a fancy. thn _ Ezra Stapleton laughed when the news was communicated te him, and after that he turned his cattle-in there whenever “he felt disposed to do so, and looked upon the ground as prac- tieally his own. _ Jack looked lovingly at the box of gold coin, and ¢ongratu- lated himseif on the fact that he had suddenly become a rich He e@ was so absorbed in the contemplation of his newly ac- wealth that he didn’t see nor hear the return of the Be Stapleton’s sharp eyes had seen him loafing at his work, as he pores it, half-way up the lane, and he was mad- 3 svi a hornet. 4 ihe wagon entered the field ‘and still Jack stirred not, Brewiaton grabbed his stout horsewhip, descended from , and started for the boy, fully intending to give him | taste of the lash. knowledge Jack had that he was not alone was n the farmer gave him a vicious swipe on the leg which Ww. te ash cut throu to the skin, and the boy. sprang to hid with @ ery of pain. in’, are you, blast: your hide!” roared Mr. Stapleton. } h you to waste my time, you young scamp!” He ot me to epee the blow when his gaze lighted on the box 1 whip upraised, ‘rooted to the spot with ‘the moment. he thought he must be dream- Then he advanced a Tt was a ‘tin box” pes ; bi been so nt he accidentally. unearthed | idea’ of relinquishing possession of his golden discovary, which by every right belonged to him. ‘“That belongs to me,” he replied sturdily. “Git!” repeated Mr. Stapleton, swinging the butt of his whip so near the boy’s head that Jack had to spring aside to save himself. - “No, I won’t go—hot without my property,” replied the plucky lad. ~- ; “You won't, eh?” snarled his uncle furiously. “Then Pll kill you!” He raised his whip in the air again, intending to strike Jack to the ground, when it was suddenly snatched from his grasp by Andy McPike, who, at the first sign of hostilities, had sprung from the wagon and hastened to Granger’s rescue- The farmer turned wrathfully on his farmhand and struck at him with his fist, the blow, however, falling short. Andy threw the whip far from him, and yelled to’ Jack to run. Jack thought the advice good under the circumstances, and, grabbing up the heavy tin box in his arms, he started, not for the house, but for the upper end of his own strip of ground, where he meant to hide his property among the rocks until he found a chance to remove it to some more secure place where his uncle couldn't find it. He knew that it would hardly be safe in the house, even in his aunt’s possession, for Ezra Stapleton would move heaven and earth to discover where it was hidden. He didn’t look back as he fled along the uneven ground. Had he done so le would have seen his uncle and Andy Me- Pike engaged in a hand-to-hand conflict that threatened dire results to oné or both of them. Jack soon was out of sight of the wagon and the com- batants, for the boulders were large.in many places, espe- cially as he neared the end of the point where the farm over- looked Vineyard Sound. Finally, out of breath* and dripping with perspiration, he came to a stop, and, forthe first time, looked back for any signs of pursuit on the part of his uncle. He saw none, and congratulated himself over the fact that he had given Mr. Stapleton the slip. Then he looked about him for a -hiding-place for the box and its precious contents. An old dead tree pointed its withered trupk toward the sky near the edge of the bluff. Its roots were solidly imbedded in a little patch of earth among a nest of boulders. The tree was hollow, with a small opening at its base. “I think that will make a first-class hiding-place for the treasure,” he said to himself, feeling around inside the with- ered trunk. “No one ever comes here, for they couldn't reach this spot except across the farm, and there’s nothing to attract one but a view of the Sound, and that can be had elsewhere. Yes, I’ll trust it here, for a while, at any rate. In fact, I can’t very well help myself.” So he shoved the box into the tree and concealed the open- ing by rolling two good-sized stones against it in such a way that they looked natural. The shore of the inlet extended around the point in the shape of a smeoth patch of beach, that was entirely covered at high tide. 2 There was a break, however, in this beach almost directly under the dead tree, which was not particularly noticeable until the tide began to run in, when the beach was quickly separated from the inlet by an arm of water. When Jack turned away from the tree he stood for a mo- — ment looking out over the glistening surface of the Sound that was being stirred into life and motion by the breeze that had just sprung up. et Finally he casually glanced down at the beach below. 5 The tide was coming in, and the patch of hard, at ee “(i on which the water was ‘beginning to encroach was ee eut off from the inlet: ; ‘A dash of color among the rocks caught his eye, and to his ir surprise and consternation he saw a girl seated on a boulder ~~ reading a book in blissful unconscioushess of her peril. _ He gave a shout a attract her attention. “She glanced up in surprise at the hail, and Jack's b ymget cold as he recognized Grace Munson, _

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~ THE ROAD TO WEALTH. “What are you doing up there, Jack?” she asked. But the boy, standing forty feet above her, made no reply. He was casting his eyes along the face of the bluff, wonder- ing how he could extricate the girl from her dangerous pre- _ dicament. “What are you looking at, Jack?” she said, not understand- ing his actions. “Don’t get frightened, Grace, but the tide is coming in and - you are cut off from the inlet,” he answered. His words woke Grace up to a sense of her peril, and look- ing toward the entrance of the inlet she saw, to her terror, that she could not return the way she had come, “Save me, Jack, save me!” she cried, in frightened accents. aoa Save you somehow, never fear,” he replied, reassur- y. “You can’t come down, nor can I climb up. Oh, dear, 'l be drowned when the water come in.” “No, you won't. Climb up en the rocks as far as you can go and sit there until I can run to our barn and get a rope.” “Oh, don't go away and leave me here alone,” she wailed. “I must. There is no way to reach you except with a rope. Keep up your courage until I come back.” Without waiting to hear the girl’s reply, he turned around and sped toward the farmhouse. As he leaped the fence into the barnyard he saw Ezra Sta- pleton coming from the stone field. He looked like a wreck, for his face was puffed out and bleeding. , As soon as he saw the boy he started for him. Jack saw him coming, and made quick time for the barn. He knew where a coil of stout rope hung fom a peg in the wail, and he seized it, threw it across his shoulder, and started to get. out before his uncle blocked his way. : He was a trifle too late, for before he could reach the door Mr. Stapleton’s six feet of bone and flesh filled the opening. “Where's that box, you little villain? Tell me at once or i'll be the death of you,” : : “Leayewme™ alone,” cried Jack, excitedly. “I must get back to the point of the bluff at once or Grace Munson will be - drowned. She’s on the beach below, cut off by the tide.” 7 rte Lo o~:%, %, + - _ flow of eo His words made no impression at all on the farmer. All his thoughts were centered on getting possession of that box of money, and he meant to. get it somehow. “Tell me where you've hidden that hox, and I'll let you go,” he said. “Let me leave the barn, I tell you,” cried Jack, in a fever of anxious impatience. “Do you want that girl to drown?” “What do I tare about the girl? I want that box o# money.” “You'll never get it,” replied Jack, desperately. : “We'll see about that,” replied Ezra, grimly, advancing on the boy. Perceiving that a collision with his uncle was imminent, and knowing that if Mr. Stapleton got hold of him he would not be able to get away to Grace’s rescue, he looked around for soMe weapon with which to defend himseif. A three-pronged fork, used for tossing hay and manure, stood against the wall within reach of his hand. He grabbed it up and presented the points toward his uncle. “If you don’t leave me alone,” he cried resolutely, “I'll pin you against the wall with this fork.” “You'll do what?” roared his uncle, furiously. “Tl stick you, and, by Christopher, I mean what I say.” Jack lunged at Mr. Stapleton in such a threatening way that Ezra started back with an oath of astonishment and some trepidation. “Get away from that door, do you hear?” cried the boy, making another demonstration with the pitchfork. The prongs actually came against the farmer's chest. “Are you crazy?” he demanded, retreating before the lad's resolute front, backed by the sharp, steel prongs. “Yes, I’m crazy,” retorted Jack, making a final thrust that completely demoralized the farmer, and caused him to jump backward on the floor of the barn. Taking instant advantage of his chance, Jack threw down the fork, sprang out of the door, and ran for the point. He reached the dead tree out of breath, and looked down at the patch of beach. - It was entirely covered with the water by this time, while the terrified girl was perched on a rock a few feet above the the tide. L ty ee ee said Jack, as he unshipped the coil of } his back, ee gaye a little cry of joy at seeing him once more, and -suéderingly at the fast-rising water. : “T'll have you out of there in a few minutes,” said Jack, be- ginning to tie one end of the rope around the trunk of the tree. She watched his motions anxiously. After testing the hold of the rope on the tree by pulling. on it, he threw the balance of the coil down to the girl. Then, with the agility of a monkey, he swung off the bluff and, gliding down the line, stood by her side. “Put your arms around my neck, Grace, your life while I shin up the rope.” The girl obeyed, and then Jack grasped the rope and pre- pared to mount to the top of the bluff. At that moment the face of Ezra Stapleton appeared along- side the tree above. “So you're down there, are you?” he laughed sardonically. “I guess I've got you where I want you, you ungrateful cub. Tell me where you've hidden that box of money or I'll cut the, rope and let you stay there.” “Cut the rope!” cried Jack. “Can't you see that Grace Mun- son is down here, teo, and that I’m trying 4o save her?” “I don’t care who's down there. I want that money, and I’m goin’ to haye it, or you're goin’ to suffer the consequences.”} “Por heaven’s sake, Uncle Stapleton, don’t interfere with me now, and I'll give you a part of the money.” “No, you won't. You'll give it all to me. I’m your guardian, and it’s my duty to take charge of all that belongs to you.’ Where is it? Tell me, or I'll slash the rope,” and the farmer flashed out his jack-knife and held it against the rope. Jack was getting desperate. The water was already swirling about the rocks within a few inches of their feet, and the prospect was growing more hazardous every minute. Hzra Stapleton clearly held the key to the situation, and he was ugly enough at that moment to push matters to the crack- ing point. Jack hated to reveal the hiding-place of the money-bo: after all the trouble he had been to in securing it, for he knew that that would be the last he ever would see of the gold. And yet the life of Grace Munson: was more precious by far; than the contents of that box. For himself he was not particularly concerned. The water was comparatively calm, and he could swim like a fish. If Grace was out of ddmger he could laugh at his uncle’s: threat. An idea struck him how to get out of his dilemma. “Let go of my neck, Grace,” he said. The girl obeyed. ’ Then he tied the end of the rope securely around her waist. “Haul her up, Uncle Stapleton.” “Tell me where you've hidden the box and I’ll do it,” said the foxy farmer. “T won't tell you a firmly. “Then she don’t come up.” - “Do you want to be responsible for her death?” pleaded Jack. “I didn’t put her down there, so I ain’t responsible for nothin’,” answered Mr. Stapleton. “If you're so anxious to get; her up here tell me where you put the box, and up she comes.” With the water now splashing about their shoes, Jack was: more desperate than ever. “Will you pull her up right away if I tell you?” and hold on for % ; thing till you pull her up,” replied Jack Yes. “Before you look for the box?” “I'll agree to that.” “The box is hidden in——” : : Something hard struck against Jack’s leg at that moment, and he turned to see what it was. | He uttered a yell of boat. - CHAPTER VII. A DISHEARTENING DISCOVERY. Extending his foot over the gunwale of the boat, Jack cast, rope loose from Grace's waist, and then swung her into little craft, following her himself, : howl of disappointment floated down from the delight, for the object was a small rows

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THE ROAD TO -WEALTH. “T'll skin you alive when I catch you!” roared Ezra Staple- ‘ton, shaking his fist at his nephew. Jack made no reply, but rowed around the point and into the inlet. Grace seemed bewildered by the sudden transition from im- minent peril to actual safety, as well as by the hostile attitude shown to them by Mr. Stapleton.’ “Oh, Jack, what is the matter with your uncle? He couldn’t have meant to leave us on the rocks to be washed off by the water.” “No,” replied the boy, who wished to shield his aunt’s hus- band from the consequences of his violent conduct involving me the girl’s safety, “he was just trying to bring me to terms.” ‘ “About what? He spoke about a hidden box of money. What did he mean?” Sy Meg you if you promise not to say a word about it, even oO ” “I'll promise, of course.” “I found a tin box full of twenty-dollar gold pieces about : an hour ago on that acre of ground willed to me by Matthew Truesdale.” “You did!” exclaimed Grace, in astonishment. “Yes. Mr. Stapleton saw my find and wanted to appropriate it to his own use. I objected, becanse I consider the money belongs to me, as I discovered it on my own property. ‘What ‘he would have done io me in the field I can’t say—he looked mad enough to kill me—if Andy McPike hadn’t interfered, giving him the chance to run off with the box. I hid it ina safe place, and now Mr. Stapleton seems determined to make me tell him where J put it. This I am determined not to do if I can possibly help myself.” “How much money did you find?” “1 didn’t count it; but I am sure there must be more than a thousand dollars.” “I'm very glad you were so fortunate, Jack,” said Grace, earnestly. “Thank you, Grace. I am sure you are my friend.” “Of course Iam. And I want you to know that I am very yi ul to you for saving me from being drowned on the nt.” a don’t think you would actually have been drowned there if you had even been alone as long as you kept your wits about you. The tide would scarcely have risen higher than your knees while you stood on that rock, and as the water was calm you ought not to have been washed off.” *Even if I was as fortunate as you say I should have been - obliged to stand in the water for hours before the tide went down, Just think how frightened and uncomfortable I would have been. You saved me from all that, and I sha’n’t forget what you've done for me as long as I live.” _*T am yery glad I was able to render you a service, Grace,” replied Jack, earnestlya “I would do anything in the world | for you, because you're Bob’s sister, and because—well, be- - cause I like you.” “And I like you, too, Jack,” *with a little blush. “I always ve, and I shall like you a hundred times more after this.” Her words made the boy very happy. She was a pretty girl, with sapphire-blue eyes and golden hair, a willowy figure, and a manner distinctly charming. never made any secret of her preference for Jack’s so- > and the boy always felt flattered by her friendly atti- habe ; oan up the jnlet he OE a for the time being the nt situation he was up against on the farm, the out- we of which was problematical. “Isn't it. funny that this boat came along just when we ed it?” said Grace at length, after a short silence. was mighty meas for both of us, especially for me, as led me out of corner. I was just about to reveal ding-place of ‘that ‘box to Mr. Stapleton when the gun- 9f this boat struck me on the leg. By the way, Grace, ‘the point this mornin?” . along walk, and it occurred Ss to sit out there facing the read : 3 Sekt Se ety from the village. pak place as onan he followed Jack’s footprints to the tree: wher mies ‘the boy had paused | when I tell mother what nearly happened to me T guess I'll get a good scolding.” “Well, you’ll do me one favor, won’t you?’ “A hundred if you want, Jack. What is it?” “Don’t say a word about Mr. Stapleton. If his actions on the bluff got around folks would talk. I have no doubt but your father would be very angry to think that my uncle would {hesitate for a moment to pull you out of a dangerous predica- | ment, when it was within his power to do so, or interfere with my efforts to rescue you.” “T won’t mention him at all, Jack,” Grace assured him. “Thank you.” “It’s a lovely day on the water, isn’t it?” she said, after another pause. “Tt is,” he answered. “I’m afraid I shall have a run-in with Mr. Stapleton when I get back,” he added, as the thought re- curred to him. “Oh, I hope not.” replied Grace, with a look of concern. “He’s bound to keep at me about that box of money. He is rather short of funds because he hasn’t attended to the farm as he should have for over a year. Those twenty-dollar gold pieces would put him on his feet again. If I could trust him at all, and that he would put the money to good use for the actual Benefit of himself and my aunt, I wouldn’t mind letting him have half of my find; but I feel sure he would only squander i the money to no good purpose. That’s why I don’t mean to let him have any. I intend to use it to help my aunt, and for another purpose I have in my mind.” “T’ve heard father say that your uncle is letting himself and his farm go to the dogs, and that he thinks it will only be a question of time before the farm will have to be sold.” “As long as I have money I won't let it come to that. Aunt - likes the place, and Mr. Stapleton’s conduct is a great trial to her. Jack rowed up to the landing-place in front of the Munson property, and helped Grace ashore. “T’ll tie this boat here and you can tell Bob how it came into my possession. If he can find out who the boat belongs to Pil return it, or the man can come here and get it. It is possible that it may have been lost by some coasting vessel, or it got loose from some wharf and floated away.” Jack left Grace at the gate leading to her home and walked on toward his own place. ¢ He walked up the lane, keeping a wary eye out for his uncle, for he was very doubtful as to the reception he might receive at the hands of Mr. Stapleton. He wanted to see Andy first, but as there was no sign of him in sight he concluded that he was either repairing the wall down the road, or had gone back to work in the fields. . When he reached the vicinity of the house he locked around for his uncle, but he wasn’t to be seen, either. Then all ai once it occurred to him that it was possible that |Mr. Stapleton might have discovered the box of money in the tree. The possibility of such a thing gave him a shock. “T sha’n't fee] easy until I make sure that he hasn't,” he said to himself. “I'll go out to the point of the bluff and in- vestigate.” : Accordingly, he got over the fence into his long and narrow acre, and made his way to the dead tree. To his great relief the stones were, or seemed to be, in ex- actly the same position he had left them. ‘Ezra Stapleton had removed the rope from the dead trunk and carried it away. “The box is all-right, that’s some satisfaction,” he said, turning to retrace his steps. After going a few yards he stopped. Something suggested that» he had better make sure that the box was still in the tree. So he went back, removed the stones, and thrust in. his hand. ze box was gone. he asked her. CHAPTER VIII. JACK DECIDES TO SHADOW HIS UNCLE. ; * ‘There wasn’t any doubt in the ets mind as to who had — taken the box. His uncle had evidently felt sure that Jack had hidden the box somewhere on the point, and as he had failed to worm the secret from him he had looked around on his own account to see if he could find it. As the ground was hi ;

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THE ROAD TO WEALTH. 9 deubt had aroused his curiosity, and he had pulled them away. . That revealed the hole. He had inserted his hand and found the box, of course, to _ his intense satisfaction. Then he replaced the stones in their former position to de- there Jack, when he came there to look, that the box was still P ere, It was very like his uncle to do such a trick. The boy was overcome by the sense of his loss. He felt confident that the money was now lost to him for- ever. He was very much discouraged, for he had intended to use Some ,of that cash to prosecute his investigations with refer- ence to the presumed wreck of the Caliope in the inlet, with its treasure-box containing a quarter of a million in English sov- ereigns. He had persuaded himself that there was little doubt as to the identity of the lost vessel, on account of the brief survey he had obtained of the deck of the wreck. This being so, he was just as.confident that the money was there, too, awaiting the lucky person who brought the proper means to bear upon it. Until he had found the box of gold coin he had been con- tented to let matters take their course with respect to the re- covery of the treasure, because he couldn’t help himself; but now, after having had the means of achieving that object placed so unexpectedly within his grasp, and then to lose it almost in the same breath, his disappointment was intense. _ As he sat on a boulder ‘in a most unhappy frame of mind, his eyes lighted on a glistening object a few feet away. + He went over and picked it up. _ It was a twenty-dollar gold piece—one which had evidently slipped out of the box while Ezra Stapleton was carrying it _ away, and had rolled aside unnoticed rie the farmer. Jack gazed it it mournfully. tt was worth twenty-geod-dollars, but’ that fact afforded the boy vi 4ittte satisfaction at that moment. elt that it was the only share of his find that he ever yould have the satisfaction of handling. - Slipping it into his pocket, he walked sorrowfully away. Jaek didn’t go near the house till he heard his aunt ring the beil announcing that dinner was on the table. As he crossed the yard he saw Andy coming up the lane. He sat down on the saw-horse and waited for him to come up, feeling that he would rather go inside with Andy than by himself, As the hired hand entered the yard, Jack thought he looked kind of funny. The closer he approached the queerer he looked. Soon Jack saw that Andy had a black eye, and that his face was swollen. _ “What the dickens is the matter with you, Andy?” “Nothin’ much,” grinned the hired hand. Z “You look as if you'd been fighting.” “I guess that’s. about right.” “Who were you fighting with?” “I thought you knew.” Jack shook his head. “TI suppose you remember that I interfered between you and _ your uncle this mornin’, and gave you a chance to get away Seon him?” . “Yes, I remember, and I am much obliged to you for doing so. Do you mean to say that you and Mr. Stapleton came to - blows?” . “It kind of looked that way for several minutes. When _ we quit we each had somethin’ to remember the other. He — me this eye, and bruised me some, and I skinned my . ckles on his hard face. I got first blood, so I’m satisfied.” y gracious! So you actually fought with Mr, Stapleton?” ‘Yes, and I found that he has « pretty hard fist. He didn’t tick me, though he tried hard enough while the scrap lasted. | We enly had one round, but it was a good one. a : re I have. He caught me in the barn, but I staved him _ off with a pitchfork. -Then—but I'll tell you about it after es if I get the chance.” y both washed up at a bu entered the where the table was sprea ‘Stapleen and his wife -were ‘already eating - dinner. little woman tioked surprised at Andy’ 8 bet coun- pened idee : and then |his wife to know anything about the money, and he ere It was clear that she was wholly in the dark as to the stirring events of the morning. “Oh, I had a little argument with—well, a person on Jack’s land, and I suffered somewhat from the effects of it.” f Mrs. Stapleton looked inquiringly at her husband, whose not over-prepossessing features bore a number of evidences of a similar kind of argument. He was smiling sardonically, as if something gave him secret satisfaction. As the smile was largely directed at Jack, and the lad ob- served it, he was at no great loss to account for the reason of it. Mr. Stapleton was chuckling to himself at having outwitted the boy, and gotten possession of a valuable prize. or ; He had no idea that his nephew had as yet discovered his oss. As the meal progressed Ezra gave plenty of evidence that " his anger had melted away, and that he was feeling uncom- monly good. Mrs. Stapleton was rather puzzled to account for her hus- band’s manner, as well as Andy’s bruised aspect. She guessed that it was her husband and the hired man who had the argument in question, and she wondered that no further results had come out of it. As for Jack, she supposed he had been at work ali morning. Mr. Stapleton finished his dinner and left the table without issuing any orders to his nephew. He went into the yard, lighted his pipe, walked over to the nearest fence, and leaned upon it, with his eyes fixed upon the distant spire of the village church. Jack could see him through the open kitchen doorway, and the boy wondered if his uncle was figuring what he would do with the box of money he had got possession of in such an underhanded way. - SOce It was quite patent to the lad that his aunt knew nothing iw about the matter at all, which was no surprise to him, as he did not suppose that his uncle would take her into his confi- dence. He wondered where Mr. Stapleton had concealed the money- box, but he had no great hopes that his relative would let. him get wind of its whereabouts. There were a dozen places where his uncle might have hidden it with perfect security, as far as he was concerned, and he had no doubt that Mr. Stapleton would keep a sharp eye upon it. : When Jack had finished his dinner he accompanied. Andy to the barn, and there detailed to him the events of the morn- ing. tt was the first intimation that Andy had had of Jack's dis-- covery of the box of money, and he was naturally astonished to learn about it. The boy told him how he had hidden it in the base of the dead tree at the end of the point, and that there was no doubt — Mr. Stapleton had found it and carried it away. “There was over $1,000 in gold in that box,” said Jack in a discouraged tone. “It belongs to me by rights, but I'll never see it again now.” “If I was you, Jack, I wouldn’t do another streke of work on this place until you have found it again,” said-Andy, ned- ding his head vigorously. “How will that help me to find it?” asked the boy. pat “What you want to do is to watch Mr. Stapleton wherever iting he goes about the farm. He’s bound to go to the place where __ he’s concealed the box in order to get some of the money when _ he wants it. You must start in right away, before he suspects _ your purpose, for he doesn’t know that you have missed the box yet. Watch out that he doesn’t get on to you.” “I guess he has hidden that box in his room in the howe, and I can’t shadow him there. He might go in his room a iY dozen times a day, and I never would be able to see what he gf a did there.” a= “T don’t believe he took it to his room, as he wouldn’t want she might walk into the room any time when he was th and catch sight of the coin. He may have taken it up to garret, or he may have hidden it in the barn here; or he n have buried it in a corner of the truck Dately, a unde. one: the boulders in your field.” : laces where he may have put “Yes, there are lots of p >e ‘movements 30u ay be able to find out sae ? on ill probabl noes money. or eces eae

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‘THE ROAD TO WEALTH. “A thousand dollars ought to last him some time, if he only means to spend it on himself,” replied Jack. “Weil, it’s up to you, Jack, to see that he doesn’t spend it on himself, or in any other way. Just you do as I say—watch 9 Fre Mis . — speaking, Andy went back to his job on the stone wall. Jack thought the hired man’s advice good, and determined to act on it. ~* He looked out of the barn door and saw lis uncle still smoking his pipe by the fence. ; _ “YH go up into the loft and watch him to see what he'll do next. Usually he goes to the village after dinner. It’s ' a wonder he hasn't gone before this, especially as he prob- ably has several twenty-dollar gold pieces in his pocket.” So Jack went up the stairs, passed through the open trap- door, and took up his position at one of the small window openings that commanded a view of the spot where Bzra Stapleton was standing. In ten minutes Mr. Stapleton knocked out the ashes from his pipe, put it into his pocket, and walked toward the house. _ Mrs. Stapleton came to the kitchen dgor with a pan of dirty ‘Water, and emptied it on the ground. Jack saw his uncle stop and talk to her. Then he looked all around the barnyard, and finally walked toward the barn. r _ AS soon as Jack saw he was coming into the building he whipped off his shoes, and crept over to the trapdoor to take a peep of his mcvements below. = He saw Mr. Stapleton pry into every nook and corner of ¥ the floor below, and finally come toward the stairs. “He's coming up here,” breathed the boy. “I must hide _ quickly.” ay On the spur of the moment he burrowed into a pile of loose hay, and lay very still indeed. ¥ His uncle came up through the trap, walked around the 2% loft, peeping behind every box and obstruction that might Serve as a place of concealment for any one, and then Jack saw him turn down the trap and place a weight on it. Apparently be was satisfied that he was alone. After going to two of the windows and looking out over ‘the landscape, he walked over to a chest full of grain, groped x4 oa for a moment or two, and then pulled out the precious mt Mi 67% ee 5 Jack drew a short, gasping breath, and his eyes sparkled _ With satisfaction, —— CHAPTER IX. ; 7 “You'te in luck.” P : ; ver Sib ers “That's the way I look at it.” : j “Why didn’t you take it and put it in the village bank?” mi: “Because I’m under age. My uncle could claim that he is my guardian and insist on taking charge of the money.” “You needn't tell him that you had put it in the bank.” “He might find ite,” -“T hope so there?” it out some way, I think it's safer where _ 18 Quy ers SF. 2 sing some of it.” — gold ee out. ss eee ou what my uncle « Bist igg reihge

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THE ROAD “How much does Mr. Stapleton owe you?” Andy made a mental calculation, and said that the farmer owed him a little over $70. “All right, Andy, you shall have it to-night.” “You needn’t be in a rush about it, Jack,” replied the hired man. “I might as well get it for you right away as well as later on.” “Just as you say.” “Tl dig the box up again before Mr. Stapleton gets back from the village and take out what I want. You see, as Seon as he finds that the box is gone from the bin he may do just what I did to him—watch me—and then I'd have to Be tTighty cautious about going near the spot where it’s hid- en.” : “That’s right,” replied Andy, with a nod. Jack helped on the wall until they had used up all the Stenes on hand, and had nearly completed the job. Then he and Andy returned to the barnyard. “I guess I'll go swiimmin’ wjth you this afternoon,” said the hired man. “We'll go early and drive the cows home afterward.” “Td like to have you go,” said Jack. money for you and aunt now,” He took the small spade he had used before and started for the wood, whistling cheerily as he went. As he came in sight of the tree he whistled more merrily than ever. ; At last he arrived at his destination, and removed the ghoyel from his shoulder. Then it was that the notes of the tune froze on his lips, | and he gazed spellbound at an open hole in the ground just where he had buried the hox. His treasure-box had been stolen again. “T’ll go and get that CHAPTER X. ee =F" OLUE. ; To say"that Jack was paralyzed by the discovery that his va had disappeared again would but faintly describe his consternation. Who had taken it this time? - “Not Mr. Stapieton, for he had gone to the village. Then who? - : Somebody must have been in that little woods when he - buried the box, had seen him do it, and then as soon as he had gone had dug it up to see what was in it. ) Who eould this somebody be? A tramp? Hardly, for no tramps had been seen in that locality since! the preceding year. As a rule, homeless individuals of that stripe did not come down on that neck of land and across the Stapleton farm. It was teo long and purposeless a walk for them, ‘ As a matter of fact, nobody came that wiry except they intented to call at the house, and the patch of woods was behind the house and not in the track of a visitor. _ While Jack was gazing blankly on the ground he saw an object lying near the hole. . _. He leoked to see what it was. It proved to be an ivory-handled penknife. “Ill bet that was dropped by the person who stole my box,” muttered Jack, as he examined it. ; _ It was an expensive four-bladed knife, and across each _ side was a silver plate. Qn one of the plates a name was engraved. ‘Jack easily deciphered it. ‘It was “Herbert Gleason.” _ “Tt can’t be that he was down here on the farm,” breathed _ Jack. “What could bring him here?” _ ‘This question wes easier asked than answered. _ Jack could think of no reason to account for Herbert’s presence there. : He and Herbert were not friends, or even associates. ~~ Herbert looked down on him with a species of scorn as be- ing 2 common farmer’s boy. . Therefore he wouldn't visit the farm to see him. “Maybe Herbert lost his knife, and the person who stole my found it a while ago, and accidentally dropped or left it here.” ‘ ; : Still that was but pure conjecture. a After Jack had somewhat recovered his co: he ked about the little wood hunting for some o clue. to ae eI Ne Bid a TO WEALTH. ae He found nothing else that would throw light on the party who had dug up the box. Finally he walked out on the edge of the bluff and looked down at the beach below. This was not the same patch of beach which Grace Mun- son had been marooned on. It was separated from that spot by an inaccessible spur of rock that jutted out into Vineyard Sound and cui the line of shore into two parts. It was impossible to walk from one to the other, even at low tide. At the base of the said spur of rock on that side was a small marine cavern. It was possible to enter it when the tide was low. When the tide was up it was full of water and the en- trance entirely covered. ; The tide was about two-thirds flood when Jack looked down. The distance between where he stood and the half-sub- merged beach was about twenty-five feet. This section of the bluff was not all rock, but largely an admixture of earth. Any boy or man could climb up and down it by using an ordinary amount of dexterity. Thence the shore line led around and up another narrow inlet almost to the village. 2 Jack stood, as we have said, on the edge of the bluff, look- ing down at the water and pondering upon the situation. Suddenly something happened. The section of earth on which he stood gave way without warning, and the boy went sprawling down to the shore with more haste than grace. He landed in a heap within 4 foot of the water's edge. “Gee whiz!” he ejaculated, sitting up in some bewilderment. “Talk about coasting, that was a peach of a slide. And so, unexpected, too. It’s a mighty good thing for me that I didn’t light on a rock, for I should in that case probably have been stunned, and then if 1 remained unconscious long enough the tide would have put me out of business for good and all.” He got on his feet and looked up at the top of the binff. “Tt won’t take me long to get back, at any rate,” he said to himself. He was about to climb when he saw the setting sun glisten- Ing on some object at the water’s‘edge, and near the mouth of the marine cavern, h was nearly covered by the tide. He walked over and looked at it. Then he stooped and picked it up. It was a tarnished twenty-dollar gold piece. He stood spellbound. This coin had surely come out of his stolen box. What had brought it here? He looked carefully around and saw a boy's footprints in the sand. They pointed directly at the cave. Vrom these two clues Jack made the following deductions: That the person who had stolen the money-box. was a_ boy. That to avoid observation he had gone into the cave to. examine the interior of the box, for the tide was low three hours or so before, when Jack buried the box. , That, having ascertained its valyable contents, he ha doubtless carried it off along the shere to his home in the village. If his line of reasoning was correct, and it looked that way, then the money was as good as lost to him, ; Jack tried to peer into the cave, though why he did so he couldn't have explained, as it was impossible for him to make out anything there. ; Finally he turned away from it and traced the steps to a point that showed where the boy had come down from the bluff above. =< From that point they led direct to the cave. ‘ 55 The boy’s footsteps in the other direction, that is toward — 3 the village, were entirely wiped out under the water. “That settles it,” thought Jack. do now is to go to the village and visit some of the stores, say the bake-shop and the candy stores, and ask the owners to make a note of any boy who offers a twenty-dollar gold I'll tell them that the © piece in payment for a purchase, money, especially if it has « tarnished look, is stolen coin, “The only thing I-can . E x 2 ¥ ¢q 5 : ‘

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e Je zt are not often taken from the bank, supposing tnat the bank has any, which I think is doubtful.” As that seemed a pretty good line of action to take in the matter, and promised results, unless the boy was au unusually foxy youth, Jack climbed to the top of the bluff and retraced 3 __ his steps to the farmyard, where he found Andy impatiently | waiting for him to return and go swimming. CHAPTER XI. WHAT HAPPENED ON THE SHORE AT MIDNIGHT. “What kept you so long, Jack?” said Andy. ‘“Couldn’t you decide how much money you wanted to take out of the box?” “You won't fall in a fit if I tell you something, will you?” asked Jack. “What do you mean by that?” asked the hired man, won- deringly. “A very remarkable thing has happened. % “Has it? Let’s hear what it is.” ; “That money-box has disappeared again.” “What!” exclaimed ,Andy, incredulously. “The box gone again? Come, now, you’re jokin’, ain’t you?” ; “T wish I was.” oy ~ “Ob, I see. That's what kept you so long. You've for- _ gotten under which tree you buried it.” “It’s worse than that. Some boy was sneaking around in the woods when I hid it. He watched me, and when I went ‘away he dug it up and carried it off.” Es Andy looked hard at Jack, as if he found the story hard , to swallow, “You say it was some boy. How do you nx it was a boy if you didn’t see him do it?” _ “In the first place, I found a penknife belonging to Herbert Gleason neir the vacant hole. In the next I found where a ‘boy had gone down to the beach, walked to that marine cay- re) a? 1 « F ; “How could you tell that?” “I know it was a boy by his tracks in the sand, ‘and I know he carried the box there because I found one sf my twenty-dellar gold pieces in the sand near the mouth of the cavern.” 5 _ “This is a straight story, is it?” . “Perfectly straight.” “Well, if that doesn’t beat the Dutch. One would think that box was bewitched. Here yeu find a box full of money at your field this morning and you carry it off and hide it. _ Your uncle discovers the box where you put it and he hides it in the grain bin in the loft of the barn. Then you watch and find out its hiding-place, thus getting it back again. You go and bury it in the woods. Along comes a strange boy who digs it up and carries it off. All this in one day. Yes, it is remarkable, for a fact.” t & , * However, I haven't Siven' up all hope. of getting, it back py. - “Haven't you? I aXpiihk after all ‘that. to recover. it?” Th told him how he had figured on getting on the track 0 ’ 4 How do you ex- “That isn’t a bad way. I neyer shouid navi thought of that. You've a great head, Jack. 1 believe. you're a. born detective. a? “Oh. I don’t know,” replied the boy. . Most anybody would think of that. If the money was ‘in bills I couldn't work it quite so well, unless the bills were larger ones. But as it is all in twenty-dollar gold pieces, and a good many of them are tarnished, it is easier. A twenty- dollar piece is not often tendered in payment for a purchase so storekeeper, cially by a boy, The _clreamstance is . So that’s the way I expect to | though the nding: of the knife almost estab entit y already.” | he iit L “Wwas you~ ra make ‘it’ my business | to waien 2 on to-morrow You don’t think $259" he ean 1 rte Rade dollar gold pieces are uot a current coin in the village, ena “Isn't the knife evidence aipagh?* “Tt isn't such a Seeag : ‘his cousin into his confidence.” said Jack. box in the_ marine cavern with ae pai in So *: removit “It is not conclusive, because he might have lost the Enife. The thief might have been a village boy who had found it,” “I don’t agree with you. The chances are against that supposition. Now it is my idea that whoever found that box hid it in the cavern for a purpose.” “What purpose?” “He didn’t want to carry it through the village to his home in daylight, lest somebody should notice it under his arm and afterward report the fact if you circulated the news through the village that you had lost such a box. In a small village like Fairdale, where everybody knows everybody eise, and the smallest intelligence flies rapidly from mouth to mouth, it’s very hard to keep anything secret. If Gleason is a slick youngster he’d consider all the Chances before he took any risk. He'd know that the box was perfectly safe in the cavern while the tide was up. No one can get into that hole much before midnight. What's to prevent him from- going back there at that hour and taking the box home when every- body is in bed? No one is likely to see him carrying a box under his arm at that time. That’s the way I would do it,” Andy’s argument rather impressed Jack. It was plausible, at any rate. “Well,” he said, after a moment's reflection, “I can test the matter by lying in wait ‘at the top of the bluff at mid- night to see if any one goes to the cavern.” “I -would.. I'll keep you company.” “But you've got to get up at half-past four, half of your sleep.” “T don’t mind that.” “If you don’t mind it I shall be glad to have you watch with me, for it will be a lonesome job.” “Then that’s settled. Now we'll go in swimmin’. the boys haven't come yet.” They had reached the shore of the inlet by this time, and, taking off their clothes, were soon ppinahisg around in the water. The majority of the village »boys.wext swimming in their own inlet, but a few, who were particularly friendly with the farm lads in that vicinity, came over to that place at sun- down. Jack and Andy left about the time the others began to put in an appearance, as they had quite a bit of work to do he- You'll lose I see ~« fore dark. = 92 Mr. Stapleton didn't come home wntil supper was over.. He was in a particularly jolly mood and his breath pat ae in mind of a distillery. He surprised his wife by throwing her a handful of weit bills, amounting in all to about $30, and he accompanied the gift with the remark that she was “a good old girl.” He handed Andy $10 on account of his wages and told him he'd give him the balance of his money in a day or fio. He even went so far as to hand a dollar to Jack. with a grin and a chuckle—something he had never done before. “He evidently considers himself a made man,” said Andy to Jack; “but he'll change his tune when he finds that the box has gone from the bin.” “All I'm afraid of is that he'll make the place feo hot for me,” replied the boy, “and I don’t want to leave.” “You won't have to leave if I can help it.” answered the wi man in a determined tone. Stapleton went to bed immediately after supper, 2d ss Seite followed at nine ‘o'clock. Jack and Andy sat in the kitchen and talked until ten; then they quietly left the house and took their way through pee to the edge of the bluff where Jack had had bis tu e. The boy pointed out to his companion ‘the spot where he it. ‘It was a moonlight night, which rather favored their pur- . for they could see the line of the shore al) the bi & to | where it turned up at the neighboring inlet. - It might haye been eleven “Tf one of those is Herbert Gleason he must have tak “It. oe to as if your idea was the right one—that he hid the o'clock, and the tide was ‘ebbing. “ ‘| fast, when Andy thumped Jack om the arm and called his at- _|tention to two moving objects appreaching from down | the” é beach, had taken his involuntary slide, and the two had a laugh over ? a4 yi

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THE ROAD ing at full length on the bluff, saw that they were not boys at all, but a Gouple of men. : ; They came straight on, passed directly under the» spot where Jack and Andy lay and walked up to the projecting spur of rock. As they couldn’t go any further, they came to a stop. By their actions it looked as though they were strangers in that region, and had expected to find a continuous line of beach around the point. After a consultation, during which they looked up at the bluff several times, they sat down in the shadow of a huge boulder, no doubt to rest. Peth men produced pipes, lit them and smoked away. “I wonder who they are?” asked Jack. : Andy couldn't tell him, so their identity remained a mys- | ery. Fifteen minutes passed and then another figure appeared | down the beach coming in that direction. There wasn’t any doubt about its being a boy. He was walking ‘along close to the water’s edge and seemed to be in a hurry. “That's Herbert for a dollar,” citement. “He’s after the box. ern with those two men there. he sees them?” Herbert Gleason, however, kept right on, and it was soon | apparent to the watchers that he did not notice the two men who sat smoking in the shadow of the boulder right under the bluff. Herbert went straight up to the spur of outlying rock and looked into the hole that was net yet quite emptied of water. His actions naturally attracted the attention of the two men, who watched him to see what he was up to there at that unusual hour. ~ “Herbert is likely to meet with a surprise when he fetches the tin box out of that cavern,” said Jack, “for I’ll bet those two men will want to know what's in the box. This is going to make matters-awkward for us, Andy.” “The. box is yours, Jack, so I reckon we're not going to get away from us without a fight. Go into the woods and find a couple of stout limbs that will answer for cudgels. ~ Em.going to see that we get the box or know the reason why Jack agreed with Andy. If the money-box was going to figure in the proceedings, as he felt sure it would, he was game for a struggle to regain _ possession of it. So’ he went to the patch of woods and soon returned with -& couple of sticks that promised to answer for serviceable Weapons. Herbert was still standing near the cavern ately for the water to subside so he could enter without wetting his feet. The men hadn’t moved, and were evidently watching him With some interest. At teneth the water receded enough for Herbert's purpose, ‘3 and’ he disappeared into the hole. After an interval of five minutes the men got up and ap- "proached the cavern. “Maybe they think that’s an underground road to the other side of the spur of rock,” said Jack. “They may think so,” " replied Andy. Just then Herbert Gleason reappeared with something under “his arm. _ He:started back with dismay when he came face to face - with the two men. What they said to him neither Jack nor Andy could hear at that distance, but they saw Herbert jump to one side and “Baie ‘off down the beach. The men ran after him, and being swifter on their feet and unencumbered, they overtook the village dude at a point where the watchers Iny.on the bluff. said Jack in some little ex- He'll never go into the cay- I wonder what he’ll do when * ah One grabbed the box_from under Herbert’s arm, while the her held him, and then the boy uttered a cry for help. ~ “Come on, Jack, it’s time we interfered,” cried Andy, g to his feet. ping their cudgels ready for instant action, they slid | ang wm the ie alle of the bluff in the twinkling of an eye. | ; CHAPTER XII. 27 SAVED FROM THE eet Me Andy paren IO the $100 with some reluctance, 13 TO WEALTH. “Drop that boy!” roared Andy, making for the man who had held of Herbert. Both the box and the boy were relinquished by the men in order to defend themselves, but they stood their ground pluckily, and one of them flashed a revolver from his hip pocket and cocked it. Herbert, as soon as he found himself at liberty, made a dash down the beach, without thinking any more about the box, so frightened was he. The glinting of the moonlight on the barrel of the revolver attracted Andy's attention to it, and quick as a flash he sprang at the man and brought the stick down on his arm, The man uttered a sharp cry of pain, and the weapon fell to the beach. Andy followed up his advantage with another fierce demon- _ stration with his cudgel. The fellow sprang back to evade the swing of the stick, and then the hired man quickly picked up the revolver with his left hand. In the meantime Jack and his opponent had closed in a struggle for the mastery. They staggered about and finally went down on the beach, with the boy on top. The club had fallen from his hand, but for all that Jack !was able to hold his own with his antagonist. “What did you chaps attack that boy for?” of the fellow under him. An imprecation was the only reply he received. “Let him up,” said Andy, who had backed up near him, after having put the other man out of business. Jack got off his adversary and the fellow scrambled on his feet. After favoring the lad with a vindictive scowl he walked over to his companion, who was nursing his injured arm and muttering hard expressions against Andy. The hired hand paid no further attention to him, but picked up the tin bex and told Jack to follow him. “Here, I want my gun,” said the fellow who had lost his weapon, : “Not much. Do you take me for a fool? Wait here till we reach the top of the bluff and then I'll throw it down to you,” said Andy. He and Jack crawled up the declivity, and when they had feached the top Andy looked down at the pair of discomfited strangers. “Here’s your revolver,” he said. But before tossing it down he took the precaution to dis- charge the six chambers into the air. Then he and Jack left the spot and hurried to tle farm- house. “Where are you going to hide the box now?" he asked Jack as they walked along. “Blessed if I know. I’m afraid to hide it again for fear of losing it once more.” “We'll go in the barn and consider the matter,” replied And aK soon as he opened the big door and closed it after them he lighted one of the lanterns that hung from pegs in an upright post. : Securing the door on one side, he led the way to the loft. Placing the lantern on the floor, he and Jack squatted down on the boards, Jack undid the string and removed the cover. The light flashed on the gold coins. “They're all ae thank goodness,” said the boy. least I ‘don’t miss an “They look goed,” " remarked Andy. there, eh?” “Herbert may haye taken some out, or he may not. There's. no way to tell except by recounting them, und I guess it isn’t~ At worth while. Here’s three for you, Andy. That squares your — wages, with the ten dollars Mr. Stapleton gave you to-night.” — “Thanks,” said Andy, pocketing the gold pieces. “Now here are five more for helping me recover the box,” and Jack held them out to his companion. “No,” replied Andy. “rm at going to ohengs you rk for what I did for you.” “You've got to take them. ou,” he said. — wes eos te reat he _ “it’s just robbin’ | “No, fe ian. ie Te ha box back.” he demanded : “4 “So there's $2,600, mv is cx

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14 THE ROAD TO WEALTH. ¢ raed had to acknowledge that there was some truth in Once up there, be could make his way easily is: the blazing that. roof. “Now,” said Jack, after putting another $100 in his pocket The kitchen chimney ran up through the end of that section . that he meant to give his aunt, and retying up the box, “where of the house, ‘3 shalltI put it where it will be safe?” By tying the rope around the brickwork he could let him- F “When your uncle misses it from the bin he'll search high self-down to within a couple of feet of the window where Grace -_. and low to find it again, so it won’t do to put it in anywhere | lay unconscious. bs that he is at all likely to look,” said Andy. The scheme flashed through his brain in a twinkling, and 7 Jack fully agreed with him on that point. he lost no time in putting it into effect. They considered a number of places: that they thought likely Securing the coil of rope, he met Mr. and Mrs. Munson, the ones, and at length decided to bury it in a certain corner of the| latter only partially robed, coming out at the front door. truck patch. “Where are you going?” asked Mr. Munson, So, armed with a shovel, they sae to the designated spot; “To save Grace.” and put the money-box out of sight. “Isn’t she out of her room?” asked the farmer. “Bob went As they were returning to the house a bright glare of light | to arouse her and see that she got out.” sprang up in the near distance. “He couldn’t reach her, as the hallway is on fire and her i “Great Scott!” exclaimed Jack. “There’s a fire. It must} room is cut off by the flames.” ‘ be the Munson house.” “My heavens!” gasped Mr. Mason. , “Or their barn,” said Andy. “We must run over and help Jack didn’t wait to exchange another word, but dashed a? them.” into the house and up the smoky stairs to ao ape They started down the lane on the run, and as they went| Out of the window he climbed and grasped the iron pipe. ag the glare increased in intensity, and a cloud of smoke mounted| UP Si he shinned like a monkey, for the boy was as active 4 and hung aloft in the still morning air. as a Ca : : Testing the stability of the gutter and finding it to be firm, “_ There was a hand-engine in the village, operated by a volun- : ; - teer company of firemen, but it would probably be some time} Jack gave. his bédy a swing end threw, one Ig. msward. ‘a before the machine could be brought to the scene of the fire.| It caught on the coping of the roof. a : th 5 Jack and Andy leaped the gate at the end of the lane and ne 28 ae up one hand and grasped the edge o e = started in the direction of the inlet. we = cae They soon came-in sight of the Munson farmhouse and saw | ,_/t Was @ onion a ghouge. to aving the rest of ie _— Bs up and at the same time make sure of Mantain ng S - ¢ that the kitchen end of the building was in flames, which had librium at the critical moment. - by this time caught on to a portion of the second-story and “ was crawling up toward the roof. “tm afraid they never will be able to save the house,” panted Jack as he ran beside Andy. lf he failed the chances were in favor of his falling three stories and a half to the ground below. F Jack, however, did not hesitate to make the attempt, and ry . n ‘ nae The hired man did not answer except to call on the boy to he was so fortunate as to succeed to pa top of the front make a fresh spurt. part of the house and jumped onto the blazing roof, where , As they dashed through the Munson gate, and up the drive- eS situation was not a little precarious. _ Way, the flames were leaping through the roof at the rear of| A brief glance in the direction of the barn showed Andy the house, and seemed to be just getting under full headway.| and Rob hurrying up with the ladder. pe, The family had apparently just woke up to a realization of But time was exceedingly precious now. _ the disaster which faced them, for Jack saw Bob Munson, in! ‘The smoke was pouring out of the window above and around _ shirt and trousers, throw up his window on the third floor, look| the unconscious girl, while the fire was blazing right back out and then disappear. of her. _ Presently Mr. Munson appeared at a front window on the Jack hurriedly tied one end of the rope around the chim- Pes second floor, looked out and vanished in short order, | mney and threw the coil over the eaves. a3 As Jack and Andy arrived in front of the house another win-| From the elevated position, almost surrounded by the smoke __ dow was thrown up, right in the blazing part of the building, | and the flames that were fast enveloping the entire roof, the _-_— and Graee Munson, in her night dress, thrust out her head and| poy saw a dozen men from adjacent farms running toward screamed for help. the confiagration. + “Good gracious!” cried Jack. “Wook, Andy, look! There’s| jjyown the road he also saw the Fairdale fire engine com- - Grave Munson. And the room is on fire, too, Why don’t she|jng on, drawn by a score of men, “make her escape downstairs?” He took all this in at a quick glance, for he had no time “Perhaps she’s cut off from the door,” he answered. “We'll | to linger in that dangerous position, and then he crawled over en have to save her somehow.” the eaves and slid down to the level of the window of Grace’s ¥ “We must get a ladder, then,” said Jack in great excitement. | room. “Phe trouble will be to find one in a hurry.” Swinging forward, he landed in the midst of a stifling smoke £5 ower ve got to find one.” that nearly caused him to lose his presence of mind and his _At that moment Bob came rushing out in the greatest ex-| hold on the sash. _ eitement. Straddling the sill, he lifted Grace up until he got a firm “a “You here, Jack,” he exclaimed. “For gracious sake, help|hold of her around the bedy, then, turning the rope seyeral : save my sister. I couldn't reach her room. The hall is| times around his arm, he pushed himself and his precious ‘and thick with smoke, Something must be done quick-| burden out of the window. or she'll burn to death.” o He swung back on a line with the chimney, and the strain “Where we get a ladder?” asked Jack. that came on his arm was terrible for a moment and dragged oo at the besk.ot the bam; _ | dim 2 i en faster than he had anticipated. hen you two run and get it as quickly as you can. You Mr. Munson, however, was on hand to break his fall and haven't a moment to lose. I’m going to try and reach Grace: catch his daughter in his arms, but for all that Jack collapsed =e While you're bringing it.” in 8 Nene eaten qrens. : increased ly during e ay eee doubts waethe it ing the last few minutes He had accomplisked his heroic object and saved the life ne peo the girl. who had fallen in a| of Grace. across | ; « < t CHAPTER XIII. plan which he had resolved to put : Wh h it was a risky thing for him to MR. STAPLETON FINDS HIMSELF BLOCKED. ee. 43 i : See |: - Mr. Munson carried the limp form of Grace to his wife to been ft Boks room on sev ns, and knew revive. an 2 es =< oct By this time the flames were seemingly carrying everything do LY 3 possible to reach the roof} ibatore- them, and there locked to be little hope of saving any _ |part of the Munson home, ~ to. there,} In the absence of any wind, ‘the fire burned straight unward, si seat have in-| piri ldap ge cteedie oe spas cote rae

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THE ROAD TO WEALTH. 15 — _ With a jingling of bells the Fairdale fire company dashed up to the farmhouse, and before many minutes a couple of Streams were turned on the fire, pumped from the well and the cistern. Jack, Andy and Bob busied themselves carrying the most = part of the Munson property from the burning build- The volunteer firemen worked with such good effect, as- Sisted as they were by the utter absence of wind, that in a very short time they had the fire under control. It was confined to the rear section of the house, where it broke out, but as a matter of course other parts of the building Were damaged by the smoke and water. By three o’clock the fire was practically out and twenty min- utes later, after a searching examination, the foreman of the fire company declared that it was all out and the firemen took - up their march back for the village. Mrs. Munson, Grace and the hired girl had taken up tem- porary quariers at the barn, where they clothed themselves in such garments as Bob got from his mother’s closets in the front room. ‘ When the excitement was all over Jack and Andy said they were going home. Jack, however, was not permitted to leave until he had re- ceived the grateful thanks for his plucky and successful ef- = in Grace’s belalf from father, mother and the girl her- Beb had already thanked his chum for the rescue of his sis- ter, and had assured Jack that he would never forget his ser- vices as long as he lived. “We've had a night of it for fair,” Andy said, as the pair Walked back to. the Stapleton farm. “No use of turning in now, for the sun will be up in less than an heur.” “Oh, I don't feel a bit sleepy,” returned Jack. “The only ‘thing that troubles me is my arm, which is sore and lame trom the wrenching it got.” ‘ “You'’r lucky boy, Jack,” said Andy, admiringly. “You ka Sood many chances goin’ up on that burnin’ roof. But ra it hadn't been for your efforts 1 am afraid that it might have gone hard with Munson’s daughter.” _ “I did what I thought was the right thing under the cir- cumstances. I knew she was in great peril, and I couldn't tell how long it would take to bring up that ladder, so. when I saw the coil of rope hanging on the tree the scheme which I put inito execution flashed through my mind.” When they reached the house neither Mr. nor Mrs. Stapleton Was stirring yet, so they opened up the barn and started their - usual morning labors. At five o’clock smoke issued from the kitchen chimney, which showed that Mrs. Stapleton was up and doing. : Jack entered the kitchen with a pail of water and then sur- _ prised her with the news of the partial destruction of the é Munson farmhouse. _. While they were.talking Ezra Stapleton made his appearance. He had slept off his boozy condition, and was in fairly good humor for him. _ Jack had to repeat the story of the fire for his benefit. __- Tt gave Mr, Stapleton a good deal of satisfaction, for he did _ not like Farmer Munson, on account of that man’s criticisms of his shiftless conduct. Tie 4) ~ 2 Seo Nba er 7 Munson Bal he muttered, thinking of the x of twenty-dollar gold pieces 1 , as he em grain box, aa i 7 . Stapleton not discover his loss for several days, as he had no occasion to replenish his store of pocket money. _ When he did find out that the money-box had vanished he ra ¢ = + ao 7 evened a wild man. Ae et rasp for Jack the first thing and accused him ‘The boy did not deny the fact. : “What did you do with it?” demanded his uncle fiercely. =~ _ “I buried it at the foot of a tree in*the woods.” = “You did, eh? Show me the tree this instant, you young cub.” _ Jack piloted him to the spot where the open hole still re- as evidence. : : : ey | whipped for I, buried the box; then when I went away he dug it up and carried it off.” “That's a lie,” roared Ezra; in a passion. “No, it isn’t a lie. I can prove it by Andy McPike.” “Do you mean to say that one of the boys of the village has ‘that. money now?” howled the irate farmer. “No. He did have it; but I discovered he had hidden it in the marine cavern on the shore, so Andy and I got it back.” “Oh, you did,” replied Mr. Stapleton with an air of relief. “Well, where is it now?” “It’s safe, I hope.” “Tell me this instant what you did with it.” “I'd rather not. It’s my money, and I’d prefer to have charge of it myself.” You’re under age, and I’m kuor guardian. The law says that I must take charge of any property belongin’ to you, do you hear?” X¥es. sir “Then go and get that money and hand it over to me.” “I have a special use for that money myself,” protested Jack. “I don’t care what use you have for it, you have no right to use it. I’m responsible to the law for that money and I’m goin’ to take charge of it.” Jack was silent. “Did you hear what I said?” bellowed Ezra Stapleton. “T heard you, sir.” Then do as I tell you.” Jack turned on his heel and walked back to the farmyard, followed by his uncle. “Where did you hide it?” asked the farmer as the boy walked into the kitchen. . i “Aunt Mary,” said Jack, “I want to tell you something.” “You needn’t waste no time tellin’ her about that money,” said Mr, Stapleton, who had a decided objection to having his wife enlightened on the subject. Jack paid no attention to him. “Aunt Mary, I found a tin box of money in my field yester- day morning.” “My gracious!” exclaimed Mrs. Stapleton in great aston- ishment. “Here’s $100 of it that I want you to have to buy yourself some clothes and things that you need,” and he placed five twenty-dollar gold pieces in her hand. “I paid Andy the bal- ance due him for wages to date, so that squares his account with the farm. ‘The rest of the money I think I have a right to do with as I choose.” ° “No, you ain’t got no right to do anythin’ with it,” inter- jected Mr. Stapleton, angrily. “Mr. Stapleton wants to take that money away from me,” continued the boy. ’ “I’ve a right to take it away from him,” insisted the farmer. “He'll spend it foolishly, atid it’s my duty to see that he doesn’t. I’m his guardian, and the law says 1 must take charge of all that belongs to him.” — ; “Tf T could trust you, Mr. Stapleton, I wouldn’t mind giving you the money provided I had no use for it right away.” “How dare you talk to me that way, you young monkey?” roared the farmer, angrily. ; “You know that you would spend that money in the vil- lage,” said Jack, not in the least intimidated by his uncle’s at- titude. “So if I gave it to anybody to keep for me I'd give it to aunt.” : “You'll give me that money now or I'll flog the back off you,” shouted Ezra Stapleton, striding forward. Jack sprang out of his way and put the kitchen table bee tween him and the furious man. “He’s no lee ; a a F Bs

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wa Ne 16 ad His wife had no more confidence in his ability to take sore of the money than Jack had, and she intimated is much. “I didn’t think you’d go back on me that way, Mary,” said ie her husband, pretending to be deeply grieved at her attitude. “It P've lost confidence in you, Ezra, it’s your own fault,” replied his wife. “You are wasting your time and substance wHALTH, “I'd like to, all right.” ‘ “What's to prevent you?” “T don’t know that there is anything.” “Then you'll go?” said Bob, eagerly. “ill have to speak to Mr. Stapleton about it, I suppose.” “Do you think he'll object?” ; “No, I don’t imagine he will. He’s behaving pretty de- at the village tavern and elsewhere. The farm has been going |cent to me of late.” to ruin this last year, and you haven’t paid any attention to “Glad to hear it. It’s about time he quit sitting on your anything I said about it. If you keep on this way I don’t know | neck.” what you expect to come to. I’ve done all I can to bring you to your senses, but it doesn’t seem to do any good. You're determined to have your own way. I suppose in the end we'll have to go to the poorhouse.” “No, you won’t, Aunt Mary,” put in Jack. “Not as long “Look here, Bob, I’ve got a secret to tell you.” “What is it?” asked Bob, curiously. “It'll surprise you.” “Will it? I’m ready to be surprised, then,” grinned Bob. “You know that long and narrow strip of ground on the as I can help it. If Mr. Stapleton would only turn over a new /edge of the bluff that old Matthew Truesdale left to me in leaf and look after the farm as he used to, I'll give you money | his will?” enough to straighten things out.” “Do you hear that, Ezra?” said his wife. “Have you the “Sure I do. What about it?” “I found a tin box under a stone in that field the other conscience to beat a boy that’s willing to do his best for us? | day.” You ought to apologize to him for your conduct, and you ought ! . to take advantage of his kindness.” Mr. Stapleton certainly did lock a bit ashamed of himself. At any rate, he made no further demonstrations against Jack, but walked slowly out of the house. CHAPTER XIV. JACK’S PLANS. That afternoon Mr. Stapleton didn’t go to the village. — All through the following week, too, Ezra Stapleton kept . away from the village and worked on the farm, and he seldom lost sight of Jack for any length of time. Mrs. Stapleton wondered if her husband had really turned over a new leaf, or if his improved line of conduct was merely a temporary. The farmer hadn’t a word to say to the boy one way or the other, except with reference to farm work. aoaet was perfectly satisfied with the changed order of hings. One evening, instead of going home to his supper, he ac- - ‘companied Bob to his house, the burnt part of which had just been rebuilt. “T’ve brought Jack to take supper with us this-evening,” said Bob to his mother. “I’m very glad you have,” said Mrs. Munson. / welcome visitor.” i “Thank you, Mrs. Munson,” said Jack, politely. _-¢iate your kindness in saying so.” “You forget how much we owe you, Jack,” replied the lady, gratefully. ES “T hope you won't let that worry you, Mrs. Munson,” laughed ‘Jack. “1 trust you understand that we are all very grateful to you _ for what you did for Grace.” “Tam sure you are, Mrs. Munson: But you couldn't thin _ that I would stand by and see her burn up without trying to save her. I don’t think I did more than my duty.” “Tt isn’t every boy, or man, either, who would have taken the risk you did to rescue our child. None of us will ever for- t your heroic conduct.” “He is a very “I appre- the sitting-room, where his sister was reading. “Why, Jack Granger,” cried Grace, in a pleased tone, hold- out her hand to him, “I’m ever so glad to see you.” “Same here,” said Jack, shaking hands with her. “You're _ looking quite well, and as pretty as ever.” = ae you for the compliment,” replied “Come on upstairs,” said Bob. ! ' Mrs. Munson turned to the stove and Bob piloted Jack into “Did you? “Money.” “Money!” cried Bob, in surprise. “How much?” “There was something over $2,600 in twenty-dollar gold pieces.” “How much?” gasped Bob. Jack repeated his statement. “Is this one of your jokes, Jack?” “No, it’s the solemn truth.” “You actually found a tin box under a stone in that field with $2,600 in gold in it?” “I did.” Jack then gave his friend a full account of the adventures of the money-box from the time it came into his hands until he and Andy buried it in the corner of the truck patch just before they discovered that the Munson farmhouse was on fire. “Geewillikins! You had the deuce of a time with it, didn’t you?” “T should say that I did,” replied Jack. “Are you sure it’s safe now?” “I hope it is.” “Did you look to see if it was?” “No. I’m willing to take the chances sooner than let Mr, Stapleton get wise to its hiding-place. He keeps a sharp watch on my actions in the hope that he may find out where I have hidden it.” “You'd never see it again if he got hold of it once more.” “I’m afraid not.” “Does your aunt know where it is?” “No. No one but Andy besides myself.” “Andy can be trusted, I suppose?”” “I'm willing to trust him, at any rate. He’s all right.” “That money ought to be in a bank where it would be earn- What was in it?” k | ing interest for you,” said Bob. “It’s a shame to let it lie there to no purpose.” “Well, I’m going to use some of it soon.” “In what way?” “You couldn’t guess. I suppose?” Bob shook his head. “I was thinking cr going to Boston for the purpose of buy- ing a diving suit, and air-pump and other paraphernalia for exploring the wreck of the ship in the inlet, which I believe to be the Caliope.” “Say, that will be great. any plans. |I don’t ask you to divide any of your findings with me, either. and the rest of the chaps would |I’m willing to go into it for the fun of the thing.” “No, I’m going to give you the fifth of anything I find. If we should uncover the treasure chest, with its quarter of a million English gold, that will mean all of $50,000 for — ie ou.” r 3 i : Bowery BS thousand dollars!” ejaculated Bob. “Why, that is ave times what wy fates ip ert eos ey > le ti

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THE ROAD TO WEALTH. 1% ae the odds? It will be handy to have one of these ys.” “Bet your life it wili.” : Accordingly the two boys arranged a little programme be- tween them which included a couple of weeks or longer stay in Boston, if Mr. Munson had no objection. CHAPTER XV. JACK LEARNS SOMETHING ABOUT THE DIVING BUSINESS. At the supper-table it was duly arranged that Jack was to go to Boston with Mr. Munson and Bob on the morning of the Fourth. Subsequently Jack interviewed Mr. Munson on the more important subject that was uppermost in his mind, which ae at least a fortnight’s stay in Boston of himself and “I have business in the city that I think will take two Weeks, and I want Bob with me for company. I have the money to pay his expenses and my own,” he said. Mr. Munson at first was inclined to object to the arrange- ment and questioned Jack as to the character of the business that would detain him in the capital. Jack then saw that it would be necessary to take Bob’s father to a certain extent into his confidence, so he frankly explained the whole matter, without revealing the part of the inlet where the wreck lay buried in the mud. He also told Mr. Munson about his finding the money-box. He said he intended to take it with him to the city when _ they went and deposit the money in a savings bank. Mr. Munson listened to Jack's story in,some astonishment. He congratulated the boy on finding so much money in the stony field and told him that as they would remain In Boston until the fifth he would go with him to a good bank and see that his money was deposited to his credit. As for the supposed treasurein.the wreck in the inlet, he Was inclined to-regard the project of hunting for it as some- What,visionary; still, if Jack was absolutely bent on under- & the scheme he safd he would give it his countenance Provided the matter was put through in a sensible and safe way. He proposed that while they were in Boston to consult With a wrecking company, and to have a competent man sent down to supervise the work with the necessary apparatus. If the manager of the company thought that Jack, with Some instruction, could safely undertake the diving part of the affair, well and good; if not, then a professional diver Would have to be engaged or the scheme abandoned. ‘ Jack agreed t¢ Mr. Munson's proposition and thanked him for his encouragement. Next morning at breakfast Jack said that he had been in- vited to go to Boston with Mr. Munson and Bob to spend the Fourth in the city, and he presumed there was no ob- jection to his going. F Mr. Stapleton looked rather pleased than otherwise and said he had no objection to Jack's trip to Boston. The fact of the matter was he was secretly glad to be rid of his nephew for a day, so that he could make a thorough search of the barn and other outhouses for the money-box. ; When his uncle was out of earshot Jack told his aunt that he expected to be away several days at least. , He also teld her that he intended to take his money to the city and deposit it in a Boston savings bank. ss ‘He further told her that the money was always at her service when she needed it for any purposes whatsoever. You've always stood up for me, Aunt Mary,” he said, “and I mean to stand by you.” _ “hank you, Jack,” she replied, kissing him in a motherly way. “You're a boy, and I hope you will always be happy and x pecqperos. That night Jack told Andy to dig up the box for him the 4 first thing in the morning, wrap it up in paper and hide it at some spot down the lane where he could get it on his way - tO Mr. Munson’s. . ‘Andy -to do so. | When Jack turned out at half-past five Andy told him on - the. where he would find the box. ; ie breakfast he bade his uncle and aunt good-by, and _ started for the Munson farm. _ -He found the box all right, and taking it under his arm walked along the short stretch of toad as blithe as a bird. - Mr. Munson and Bob were waiting for him with the light hitched to a fast mare which was to take 7 the country to the railroad station. Siocon ane Le oe B One of the farmer’s hired hands went along to bring the rig back. They reached Boston about noon, and went to a moderate- priced hotel for dinner, after which the three went out to see the sights and enjoy themselves, After supper they took in the fireworks at a big enclosed park, and went to bed around midnight. ; Next morning Mr. Munson hunted up a sayings bank, and Jack was duly accepted as a depositor. Then they obtained the address of a wreck made a call on the president. Mr. Munson explained the object of their visit. He wanted a diving plant sent down to his farm in charge of a man experienced in its operation. The wreck that was to be explored was on under the surface at low water. Indicating Jack, he said the boy would do the underwater work if properly instructed in the use of the diving-suit. Then he asked what the company’s terms would be under the conditions suggested. The president asked a number of questions, many of them addressed to Jack. i He said the arrangement was an unusual one, but he guess it could be put through. ; One of his experts would give the boy the requisite in- structions, and would put him through a practical test at a certain point in the harbor where the company was doing some diving work for the city. : Then he stated that the company’s terms would be so much per day from the time the man and the outfit left Boston until both were returned to the city. This being agreed on, the president wrote a letter to the diver in charge of the work in Boston Harbor, and instructed him to fit the lad for the work in contemplation. After dinner Mr. Munson and the two boys set out for the spot where the company was at work. On arriving at the place they found that Jack was ex- pected, as the president had communicated with the expert by phone. A diying-suit that was just about the boy’s size had been sent to the float, and after the diver had fully explained things to Jack he was told to put the suit on, which he did. The boy felt as if he never could get around with the weighted boot attachment, for each foot felt as if it weighed ame this impediment The diver told Lim that he wouldn't notice under ‘the water. Finally the metallic headpiece was screwed on his shoul- ders, and then Jack looked like a very curious object. in- y's the float down into the water. © A ladder extended from ‘As soon as the diver had adjusted his own headpiece he descended this ladder and disappeared from sight. Then Jack, according to previous directions, followed him. His sensations were peculiar ig BM wet descended into the shallow depths of that part of the harbor. He found the diver at the bottom waiting for him with a portable hand electric light arrangement that illuminated the water well enough for all practical purposes, . "The boy took his first practical lesson in the divers’ busi- ness, and before he returned to the float and the light of day again he had acquired considerable confidence and skill in underwater operations. : He was told to come again on the following morning, when he would receive his final instructions and another practical lesson which the diver sald ought to fit him to undertake the business he had in view. ing company and ly a few yards _—_— CHAPTER XVI. THE ROAD TO WEALTH. On the seventh of July the party, accompanied the wrecking company’s employees and the diving of = rived at the station nearest to the village of Fair ¢ dale. SS ees. Mr. Munson had telegraphed for a suitable eg to meet them, and they found it waiting the arrival of | train. ‘The apparatus was loaded on the yebicle, the party got in ; with it, and the.trip was made back to the Munson farm, = - ‘The locality of the wreck was inspected, and then, while = the ce ot ‘of a good-sized and solid raft was begun un~ der direction of the company's man, Jack returned to big ‘s farm. Beayyetoe" * baer fee Begins Ms soca tone rk 4 f

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THE ROAD TO WEALTH. = had hunted hard for it during the three days Jack was way. ig He didn’t say anything, however, but the boy got a hint of ~ what had transpired from Andy, who had noticed what the farmer was up to, and had been secretly laughing in his sleeve at him. Jack stated at the supper table that he would be over at the Munson farm probably all of next day. After attending to his morning chores and helping Andy at the barn, Jack started for the Munson farm fully pre- pared to make his first essay as a diver on his own account. Mr. Munson, Bob, the man from the wrecking company, and the outfit, were waiting for him to put in his appearance. All hands immediately jumped into the wagon, and were driven to the point along the inlet where the completed raft Was moored. ' “This raft will answer first-class for a swimming-stage when we are through with it,” remarked Bob. “That’s what it will,” replied Jack. , The diving outfit was carried aboard the float, and the pump placed in position. Then the raft was pulled out to a spot almost above the wreck. By that time Jack was inside of his diving-dress. * After receiving some words of advice from the man in hs charge, the helmet was secured over his head, and Jack . » started to descend the ladder, which had* been weighted and ¢ placed in position. In a few moments he was underwater, and a dozen steps downward landed him on the deck of the derelict. With the portable electric illuminator in his hand the boy looked around him. : While it was true that the deck of the wreck was thick with mud, the bulwarks, with the old-time carronades thrust through damaged port-holes, easily demonstrated that he was treading above the planks of what had once been a good-sized ip In front of him was the high poop cabin section, still in a fair state of preservation. _ The door stood wide open, just as it had been pushed back by the water, and the interior looked as black as the ace of "a spades. F inl Not having a very accurate idea of the construction of ves- - gels with poop decks, especially the high poops of a century previous, he had entertained the belief that the way to the __ eabin, as well as to the hold, was through a kind of hole or _ hatehway cut in the deck. ; “ He was therefore surprised, as well as pleased, to find that all he had to do was to walk straight in through the open loorway, without even the necessity of going down a number of brass-bound stairs, as he had seen in yachts and brigs. Accordingly, he lost no time in entering the cabin of the Yessel, without even noticing the word Caliope in large and ‘partially obliterated letters under the break of the poop. _. The electric light threw a sufficient radiance around the Piace for him to easily make out the outlines of the cabin. - The stump of the mizzenmast rose through the mud-covy- ed deck and pierced the roof. _ Abaft of this was a long table littered with the fractured remains of the skylight that once covered the oblong hole oors opened off into as many staterooms, and Jack : each in turn, finding nothing therein that looked a ure-chest, but many things that he meant to bring ip later on as curiosities. } _ An open doorway facing the rudder post ushered the boy nto the more spacious of the rooms, which had evidently ‘been the captain’s private cabin. _. We saw many things here that interested him as he flashed electric light around the place. \t last he noticed an object like a chest standing in one ng up to it, he saw that it was a brass-bound oak box, ed in a thick layer of slime that hid half of its pro- treasure box,” he breathed excitedly. “I as a matter of course, failed to find the money-hox, though | See ie As soon as he stepped onto the float he was relieved of the bulky helmet and breathed again the fresh, pure morn- j ing air of the inlef. : He hastened to tell Mr. Munson and Bob what he had seen elow. Half an hour later Jack went down again, this time armed with a sharp hatchet. He splintered the cover, and, tearing the broken wood away, the electric light revealed numerous small bags, filling the chest almost level with the top. Jack took a couple and returned to the float. Mr. Munson cut open one of the bags and a flow of Eng- i lish sovereigns rolled out in his hand. |nvmber of stout meal bags to hold the recovered treasure, }and a bucket and a line to raise it to the surface. When they returned the bucket was weighted with a stone to carry it down, and Jack accompanied it. Noon came before they had all the treasure bags on the raft, but they did not pause, except to give Jack intervals The treasure, which _on being subsequently counted was | found to foot up a little over 50.000 pounds sterling, or a quarter of a million in American money, was carried to the | Munson house and carefully stowed away for the time being. Toward the cloce of the afternoon, Jack paid a final visit to the wreck, sending up numerous trophies that he found in the cabin, including pikes, cutlasses, and pistols, that he discovered hanging frem a rack. af for rest above-water. The float was then towed to the beach and secured for the . use of bathers, the diving outfit loaded on the farm wagon ence more, and the wreck abandoned for good. Next day the employee of the wrecking company was driven with the apparatus to the station, and took the train back to Boston. He carried in his pocket a substantial present from Jack that made him feel that the two days he had spent down near Vineyard Sound were the most profitable ones in ‘his life. ‘ A few days afterward Mr. Munson, Jack, and Bob con- veyed the 59,000 pounds English money to Boston, where it was disposed of at the current rate of exchange to the sub- treasury to be remelted into American money. Jack kept his promise and presented Bob with $50,000, though his friend declared that he was not entitled to it, as his part of the job had been cut out. * ae Mr. Stapleton was a much astonished man when he learned of the wealth that had fallen to his nephew, and began to put in bis claim to take charge of it for Jack's benefit. His efforts came to naught, as Jack apjlied to the courts to have Mr. Munson appointed to be his legal guardian en the ground that Mr. Stapleton’s record was not sufficiently satisfactory. ‘ As Jack’s aunt sided with him, Mr. Munson was duly ap- pointed, and gave bonds for the proper discharge of his trust. Jack, however, told Mr. Stapleton if he would take a reef in his bed habits he would put him on his feet again, and the farmer, after his chagrin had subsided, accepted his offer, and made his wife happy again by resuming his former position as a respectable member of the community. A Jack quit farm work and prepared himself for college. Both he and Bob subsequently entered Harvard, and in four years graduated with the average honors. Jack then bought from his uncle enough of the Point to enable him to erect a fine residence commanding an unob- structed view of Vineyard and Nantucket Sounds. >. The house was furnished throughout in accordance with Grace Munson’s tastes, for soon after its equipment that now | charming young lady became Mrs. Jack Granger. While they were away on their honeymoon the poor-look- ing Stapleton farmhouse was demolished, and a cosy and substantial home for the boy’s uncle and aunt to pass the rest of their lives in was built down near the road that led to the village. é And now, reader, having told my story, I leave in the full possession of health, happiness and abundant 2 prosperity the grown boy who through his own exertions found the road to wealth, YOUNG MERCURY OF WALL STREET.” cs see peter ces ae Bob and his father at once rowed to the shore to get a ~ Next week’s issue will contain “ON THE WING; OR, THE © —.

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FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. CURRENT NEWS ___A consular report states that the quality of the maple|ments later 2 Palm Beach suit, garnished with numerous _ Sugar and syrup, which constitute one of the chief indus- tries of the Province of Quebce, has been greatly improved ‘by the establishment of three sugar-making schools; one in ~ Beauce, another in the county of L’Islet, and a third in the ' county of Labelle. These schools are very popular with the - farmers of the province, and help to explain the fact that ~ Quebee’s production of maple sugar and syrup, as shown _ by the last census, was $1,680,393. Since the streets of London have been “darkened” at night, on account of the Zeppelin raids, there have been | Many accidents to pedestrians from being run down by automobiles. In a recent court case of this kind a bus Tiver suggested that pedestrians, especially women, should Wear light-colored clothing. He also said «hat if people carried a newspaper, or a white handkerchief, when eross- ‘Ing a street at night, automobile drivers could more easily distinguish them in time to stop. The latter idea might be useful in other places besides London. 2 A fine of .$20-f6r Tying” and $5 for speeding was as- nst Louis Greenspon of No. 5829 Westminster ace, a merchant, by Police Judge Hogan, of St. Louis. Greenspon was arrested. It was charged that he drove his “Machine at twenty-five miles an hour on Locust street, be- tween Beaumont street and Twenty-first street. When he _ Was arraigned Judge Hogan asked him if he had not been arrested before for speeding. Greenspon said he had not.} Hogan had the record looked up and it showed that Saint spon was fined $5 on Aug. 14 for speeding. “Young | Man,” Judge Hogan said, “I fine you $20 for lying and $5 for speeding.” The fines were paid. 8 result of investment of $100 in cotton when the ple was down to seven cents the Rev. Stephen D. Cre- mean, pastor of Mount Vernon Southern Methodist Church in Atlanta, has $30,000. When the bottom fell out Mr. Cremean put his $100 in cotton, borrowed all he could on s staple and bought more. When the cotton began climb- ng the pastor kept on “pyramiding” as heavily as he could . boxes and bundles, hove in sight. Riley took one look, snatched: the carnation from his buttonhole and fled. The bride-to-be appeared to be fully twenty years older than he, which probably was the excuse for his hasty flight. An interesting discussion on the number of field mice that garter snakes and racers will eat has been going on in the Scientific American between Dr. R. W. Shufeldt, of Washington, and Father W. H, McClellan, 8. J., of Wood- steck College. The value of these snakes to the farmer lies in the fact that they eat large numbers of the little rodents that devour the grain growing in his fields and that stored in his barns. Both varieties of snakes, are” harmless. Father McClellan says 500 racers will eat 6,000 mice in a’ season. Dr. Shufeldt thinks this too conserva- tive, but points out that as mice litter twice in a season, averaging only three young to a litter, it would mean that 18,000 fewer mice had eaten grain. Father McClellan does not believe that garter snakes eat mice, but Dr. Shufeldt says they certainly do, and he urges that the Government take steps to protect these valuable friends of the farmer. i While it is true that a pipe smoker works up an affec- tion for a pipe which he has made use of for a long time, it is likewise true that he would discard, the old one sooner if it were not for the somewhat objectionable operation of “breaking in” a new one. It requires many days of use before the bowl of a new pipe has acquired a crust on the — inner surface, which seems to be essential for the full en- joymeut of the smoke. It is now proposed to sell the pipe already “broken”; this task being performed by an elec- irical carbonizer which has just been patented. It con- sists of a heating elément introduced into the bowl of the pipe and sealed in such a manner that an intense heat is _ applied to the inside of the bowl, after which it is ready to be placed inte the hands of the smoker and put into active service by him at once, without any disagreeable preliminaries. % pe? ae PS yy Oe eee - f « ‘* 4 f all things on earth that would seem of no value for _ any purpose, to most persons nothing can appear more ut- terly worthless than maggots; the very thought of thei is repulsive. And yet they are actually bred for the 1 ket in England where they are used as bait for trout other fish, There are several so-called “maggot farms” that country and the wriggly, slimy worms are put up’ cans and the better grades command a price of one (24 cents) a quart. The literature from one parti magget farm, styled the “Maggotorium,” points o the proprietor, or maggot “farmer,” has learned th fifteen years’ experience “how to breed maggots ¢ passable size and quality.” Also that “he kills cattle and breeds only from beef and ” a in

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‘ FAME - AND. FORTUNE WEEKLY. - MAX AND HIS MILLION abe ee, WORKING FOR THE WIZARD OF WALL sighs By ED KING (A SERIAL STORY) CHAPTER IV (continued) It was Captain Smart again. “Max !” His eyes were bleary, and his speech thick; he clutched “Well?” the boy’s shoulder with a vicious grip. “T dropped that Se “Let go of me!” eried Max, trying to pull away. “You make me sick.” ; “Not on your life!” hissed Captain Smart. “I know “T’ll make you sicker before I get through. Will you what you have got. You have got to divide.” . divide?” “Take the whole of that!” cried Max, turning on him Max threw open the door. . furiously. “Captain Smart, who goes, you or I?” he exclaimed. Captain Smart fell sprawling on his back, downed by a Captain Smart looked all around the outer office, and, stunning blow between the eyes from Max’s clenched fist. rising, peered into the sanctum. And this was the Bowery, and the time an early evening ~ “Tl go,” he said hissingly. “But you wait, Max. Be-|hour. Yeu ean’t do such buistripss there without attract- _ fore you get to Broadway you will be arrested. I have| ing a crowd. friends left still, and you are only a poor office boy. I “Stop thief! Stop thies: That boy ‘has robbed me!” __ chall swear that package is mine.” Captain Smart was on his feet in an instant, and Max, — “Try it!” cried Max. “You can’t bluff me,» Mister like a fool, ran. ii ae aoe It was the very worst thing he could have done. ~ Captain Smart struck out as he adel the boy. The crowd was at his heels, and his street Jay just be- - Max dodged and let him go. ; yond. . _ He saw that the man had been drinking heavily, and he| He glanced back and saw a policeman among the mae feared trouble. following. He shut the door, bolted it, and, hastily removing the; People on aliead were stopping and turning to look. - vy from its hiding-place, distributed the bills among} “They'll get me sure!” thought Max. “Captain Smart his different pockets. ‘| will make a deal with the police, and I'l] be railroadeg up es _ Locking up then, he hastily crossed the iron bridge to|the river. Gee! what am I up against?” ah e Pine strect building, ran upstairs'and hurried via Pine| “Stop thief! Stop thief!” to the Wall ‘Street ferry, where he just caught 4} Max was yelling as loud as those behind him. Tt was an old dodge; to be sure, but old dodges are some- times the best. This one worked. With Max it was a double dodge, for he dodged into an- open doorway. i: Instantly he was seized by a man who stood. lurking in te the shadows. ~ LA “This way, Max!” breathed an agitated voice in his Me “This way! T knew you would come ! T’ve bet waiting ; for you, my boy!” Tt was too dark to see, and Max failed in his excise) to recognize the voice as he was drag, seed ea 22 the hall ond ™ a ian of ataire. ie ye ‘ 4° Teas ‘ae until he had safely landed we ‘Brooklyn that ‘breathed freely. ng up Montague street hill to the ‘Brooklyn City , Max determined to go to the ball match just h nothing had happened, and he did. at on the bleachers till the match was over, but his a not on the game. — ) money, the Wizard’s wethiicte, diiciag its of millions, orts of wild ideas went — each oben sot re the Wala-© Sito > CHAPTER ve

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= ‘ finding that he had missed Max, was just drunk enough to be a fool and give back-talk to the cop. That settled Captain Smart. He wound up in the station. Next day a charge of vagrancy was preferred against him, for his record was known and was decidedly black. Three months on Blackwell’s Island was the sentence, We turn aside in our story to mention this, as it is neces- sary to account for the sudden. disappearance of Captain Smart from his old haunts on Wall Street, from which “Max, as will soon be shown, did not disappear. But to return. é Hurried up the sairs by his unknown ally, Max was| dragged through a door and into a sizable room where the gas burned brightly. The instant the door was thrown open and the light streamed out into the hall Max ceased to struggle in that iron grip on his arm, as he had done all the way up- Stairs, “Mr. Coloney !” he gasped. _ “Well, Max!” Tt was the Wizard of Wall Street. He locked the door, bolted it, and stood listening as Max sank trembling into a chair. _ This gave Max a chance to look about him. Tt was a-wonderful room. Here were more ome hundreds—perhaps thousands, for all Max could _ On one side was a bench fitted up with all sorts of chem- ical apparatus, much of which appeared to have been re- cently used. Beyond the room opened another, also lighted)» Max ‘could see that it was a comfortably furnished chamber. So this was the Wizard’s home? “They don’t seem to be coming,” said Mr. Coloney. ‘think, Max, you have given them the Bs “Thanks to you, sir.” “Thanks to your own eR enn > “But you said——” _ +“That I knew you were coming. That was only my im- pression. It proved to be correct enough, it seems. Cut oe out. Now, what is all this?” _ _ Max was beginning to believe in the Wizard. “Don’t you know, sir?” he gasped. - “Know? How should I know? Max.” “But you seem to know everything.” “Nonsense! I merely give out my impressions. You ‘could do the same if you were to practise, and hit the truth as often as I do. But enough of this. I saw that cou) zl Smart chesing you and ‘calling ‘Stop. thief.’ CF Don’t be absurd, Tt ‘Max ‘had entertained ay’ iden of keeping his secret n the Wizard he abandoned it the moment those burn- ing “eyes | ‘were fixed upon him. | "that moment there seemed to be absolutely nothing » do. but ao tell Me Seer the whole thing. _with grave attest ai! He hastily money which Ms produce and laid it upon fees _books..ranged..on.shelyes from floor to FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. 21 ———————— the table, but as long as Max was talking he never’ said a word, “Max,” he then said, Saas his head upon his hand in the old way, “I know you to be an honest boy. I firmly believe you want to do the right thing.” “I do. sir,” replied Max. “I really do. I’m working for you, and whatever you tell me to ‘do I'll do it.” “That’s what you say. I wonder if you would say it so freely if you knew?” “Knew what, sir?” “That T once stole three hundred thousand dollars and equandered it, Max. That I ended up the first ten years of my business life by turning thief. Am I a good man to advise an honest boy i in a case like this?” Max stared. “Oh, you needn’t start,” continued Mr. Coloney, with-a sad smile. “You needn’t think that I am putting myself in your power, either. I have paid the penalty. Re ten years following the period of my life just alluded to I spent in a certain Western States prison. It is all over now. I seryed my sentence. I fear no man living, Max.” “Just as though I would go back on you, sir !” cried Max. “You have been too good to me.’ “I have done nothing whatever for you, boy, waa to pay you the weekly wagés you honestly earned. Until to+ day I never felt any special interest in you, but I do now,” “Because of this money, sir?” “Never say it! Never think it!” cried the Wizards springing tip and pacing the floor. “Money is nothing to me. What I earn by my peculiar business is quite suffi- . cient. I live my own life here among my books and dco ical experiments, and T am as happy as I ever can ae Max, it isn’t that at all; it is that I am resolved to away from the office for at least a year to come.” “Mr. Coloney! Then I lose my job?” “You lose nothing.” “But why “Why have I come to this determination? I shall not — tell you all my reasons. I intended to write you to-mor- . row to come here. You have come without the letter. “Ht seems to me that this is fate, and I am a fatalist. I am working on certain Phetiiical: problems which promise to be of immense service to the world. I wish to devote my — entire time to them for one year, but in the meantime I have to live. I want you to continue the business, Max.” “Me, sir?” “Yes, you. Listen. I am away. You represent BAY The fee is raised to ten dollars, say. You get five. Each | evening you call on me here and get the-tips for the next 3 day on the rise and fall of stocks. As for the personal » . advice I have been in the habit of bestowing on my clients, the business can be better conducted without it, you are well aware. Here is a chance for you to forty ox fifty dollars a week. More, probably, for you» give out these tips for what they may be worth to wh calls, instead of turning away those you don’t have always done. That’s the programme. What do | say?” “Why, what, ean - say, sir? I'm working for you. ay Seaoeaon (Bo be continue) | aa rs

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ITEMS OF WILD MAN IN MOUNTAINS. oe ~ Down in Box Canyon, California, a wild and rugged ? spot through which the head waters of the Sacramento #. Riyer starts on its way to the sea, a wild man has been seen, but only for a brief moment, as he quickly disappears on the approach of any one. One person who has seen him says that his hair is long enough to reach to his hips and a heavy growth of beard covers his face. His garments appeared to be of strips of blankets or sacks tied around his body, and his legs and feet were bare. ire appears to be a case of some poor fellow with his mind gone, who is roaming about through the woods, No de- predations have been commitied by him, and as he was only seen once, in all likelihood he has moved to some other locality. ~ This'may be the same wild man who was seen in the northern part. of the county last summer, and also in por- tions of Trinity and other counties bordering on Siskiyou. si Viisee r ; a z —- Ct ' Future American battleships will be able to survive the _ explosion of a single torpedo against. their hulls, regardless of where they are struck, in the opinion of navy experts. pe eemerunents which have been in progress for more than a year have demonstrated that two or more torpedoes must find their mark before these ships can be sent to the bot- “The two superdreadnoughts and two battle-cruisers Con- : has been asked to authorize this year will be de- ev signed on this plan. Battleships 43 and 44 have added ‘interior construction, resulting from the study made of ~ the question of torpedo defense since the outbreak of the European war, but later ships wil! have even increased ions in this regard. _ The experiments are continuing and officials expect fur-| ., ther information on the subject to be developed. Details ; work are regarded as confidential, but it is known at some experts are hopeful that a type of construction be evolved ial: will greatly reduce the gem , is to his friends a sbuisities fund letier \ Presa In it was $3 i in bills. It was word- Vegi thheal sialon! secie egy fos gave me nent and it has recently. come to my mind that I parka Inclosed find $3 out of the $5 which I in- SS aaigaorsane te cond bast Tf) tof the second instal- oe SHIPS TO DEFY TORPEDOES. a ‘ient and will insert a} effect I will be glad! United States, unless traveling, he lives at the Arm hash) tt o Sea ae in New igey? oe While in Austra FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. INTEREST . Greer has no idea as to the identity of the writer. Se year mentioned, 1896, was the year of the cyclone, and he said it is possible that the writer was one of the fifty who received treatment in his office on the night of hat disaster. PLATINUM SCARCE. Platinum is now selling at $100 an ounce and many concerns are even getting a larger price for it. Not so long ago one could buy all this metal wanted for $24 an ounce. It is rumored that an attempt is being made by the French Government to corner all the metal possible. Jewelers are finding it unusually difficult to obtain it and some refiners will not sell it to any one except jewelers. Metals which are frequently mixed with platinum are osmium, iridium and palladium, The fumes from osmium are very dangerous and workers with this metal must ex- ercise the greatest care in making alloys, ete. Platinum is generally hardened with 5 or 10 per cent. iridium, which is also used to tip fountain pen points. Platinum is also used extensively in the electrical in- dustry, and now, owing to its seareity, molybdenum is be- ing substituted. Many attempts to make other substitutes for platinum to be used in jewelry have been made, but — without much success. These include cheap alloys as well as white gold, which latter, in many cases, however, eventu- ally turns yellow. The success of white gold was rather precarious owing to the difficulty in making people believe that it was really gold, every one having been taught from : childhood up that “gold is yellow. ) CHINA RAISING ARMY - “China now has an army of 1,000,000 men under arms and within the next ten years will have a standing army - uF ese 2,000,000 men and a reserve army of 10,000,000 ;’ said Captain Cushing A. Rice, U.S.A, yetired: son re ex- -Governor Rice of Minnesota, who has just returned: to the United States from’ the Orient and is in Denver visiting friends. He says that China has awakened to the _ necessity of a military strength sufficient to protect ane 4 from covetous enemies. “Yuan Shih-kai,” he says, “is going about peanelinalal as rapidly as he can, and the 1,000,000 soldiers maerssde under training shows ‘what he can do. These soldiers'were _ trained and drilled by German and Austrian officers. Most _ of the soldiers are from the northern part of China ae? e are big, husky fellows. “On my visit to Japan, I foiind the people to be tiny to the United States. Whatever feeling Japan had yore Americans has died out with the realization nae white countries are making similar objections to J. immigration that have been made i in this a ee Captain Rice’s home is in Havana, Cuba. When i i a

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FAME AND 2 Young Fresh "THE BOY WHO BOSSED THE MINE CHAPTER XX (continued) Me os FORTUN 80) WEEKLY. By GASTON GARNB from "Frisco (A SERIAL STORY) dozed off from time to time, to awaken again with each __ Arthur hurried out in the yard with his lantern, fol-| sound. bs by the girl. 5 He looked Peet for the watchman, but could see| laffairs to themselves, Jack had said nothing to Arthur Nothing of him. Pang on, he saw a light over at shaft No. 2, and hur- Rie there. The watchman met him at the door. | “Ts it you, Mr. Jones?” hesaid. “The boss and Dolph Tatum have gone down the shaft by ‘the ladders. They mave been gone now for a log time, and I’m beginning get worried about them. I was vile thinking of com- ing ever to the office to Wake 2 LOW. ee “How ong havé you been here?” Sit is as much as an hobtr since they went down. I). something ought to be done.” “Well, I should say so!” cried Arthur, rushing to the t elephone. pie rang the bell violently, and called down to the bot- of the shaft. _ There was no answer. _ Arthur's heart seemed to stand still. ?? he asked himself. sera have gone back on him ?” he asked himself. Jack made a mistake in trusting that man?” ‘is some one on the ladder now, sir,” called the man, thrusting his head in through the door -of the room where the telephone was. thur_ dropped the receiver and ran out. ist tening at the mouth of the shaft, he could hear some toiling up the long Jadder., ' ack bY? he’ called down. “ “Oh, Jack! ‘isn't Jack! !” answered a voice from the depths of the “Tis me, Jack is gone!” ur hoes he eek faint. and got no response. same, moment he heard strahge senititn below, and ane crashing to bite bottom of the shaft. “What on earth was he thinking of to try such a crazy| “What have you discovered ?” way. “Tell me about your discovery, please.” of the shaft. trouble in doing this, The men who have been worki with Tim Brown lately are nearly all newcomers here. way I figare it out is that this secret was only known Bernacle and his bunch, such as Sam Calaway, Rod Bus and ‘Tim Brown himself.” Phaticalty. At would report to you first.” — Jack was expecting a call from Dolph Tatum. Simply because he was one of the kind who keep their about this. Moreover, Arthur was in a nervous, excitable condition, and Jack wanted him to get all the sleep he could in order to be better fitted for business next day. The call came somewhere about half-past twelve o “clock, when a pebble thrown against the window attracted Jack’s attention. It was the signal agreed upon between himself and Dolph Tatum. Jack sprang out of bed, struck a match, and held it up to the window; this was to bé his signal in return. a Hurrying on his clothes, he went out into the yard, where he found the superintendent waiting for him. , “Well, -what is the report ?” he asked. “I have been downim, No. 2 on the quiet,” replied | Dolph. “I think I know now what it is all about.” - “IT was sure you would be able to catch on,” said Jack. and the rest of us think he was dead, and give him this te Wy “We'll sce about that part of it,” said Jack, in his quiet a: “Tt is a secret drift about forty feet.up from the bottom — It was probably made before I came on the work. Of course, you understand that Barnacle has ha i’ things all his‘own way “here for years, so there was no “T must see and examine it for myself,” ie «Did you follow the drift up? “No. Tiara iar) sive pent sf the) mouth: 1 FD c blast in the way he did so as to make you : Deatg 5 oo } 3 o: “The secret opening, all right. Tim Brown was in with | ae serena ower vopet it t to climb down and up) Barnacle, His capi was to get away on the quiet. He 0 feet of Pets ily which was more than| ¢..g that do night to act in.. T am very much afraid, Mr. Winton, that by the time your sheriff arrives here it will be too late.”

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through it.” ~ “Which way does the stream run?” « “Northeast and southwest.” » Jack produced a paper which he had taken from Barna- ¢le’s desk. _ It was a rude pen-and-ink map of the region. ; ~ “TI see you have a lantern; light it,” he said. de to study this map a bit.” Attracted by the light, he had now come forward, and Bed looking at Jack and the superintendent. “We are going down into No. 2,” said Jack, calling him “Tt is my intention to make a thorough examination “T want surest “not around. We shall probably be down there some but ‘if we do not come up within an hour you can up Mr. Jones and debs him know where we have 5 Be eeTS who was a quiet old fellow, had no com- to offer, and, Jack —_—e Dolph ois 1 ‘aie the = of No. 2 : [a eons more ‘than once be- ice was Seat heard iner calling |. lo: .|if strong hands had not seized him by ss Aang upon sation Ag pec michs forned ne tr ler, | throu 3 FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. =«There is a deep gully there seh. a stream running the shaft, and I haye decided to do it now when the men | d. | hung suspended, with the murderous cord tightening e| his throat. ——> “Come on!” called the superintendent. “You can pass — the lantern in to me first. Look out you don’t slip.” Jack got there somehow; just how he did it he hardly’. | knew. The opening behind the ladder was entirely too small to stand upright in. Dolph pointed out a-wire which had been wound around — the wire used for firing the blasts by the electric battery above ground. “There’s the way he set off that blast,” he declared, “Fere’s his battery. See?” Jack seized thé lantern and crawled on through the low tunnel. He had not gone more than five feet before further advance was cut off by a rocky wall directly across the drift. ““Here’s the end,” cried Dolph. “Not much,” answered Jack. “What’s this big staple ~ driven in here if not to pull by? Back away a little, will fa! you? 9 Jack pulled and the stone moved easily forward. It proved to he merely a thin slab, and had another sta- ple fixed by which, it could be closed. Leaving it open, Jack crawled on, flashing the lantern before him. In a moment he came into a cave, narrow and low, but still affording plenty of room in whieh to walk upright. They pushed on, catching a gleam of moonlight ahead. “Put out the lantern light,” said Dolph. “They may be — laying for us here.” ia Jack blew out the light and pressed on. To In a moment he found himself at the mouth of the eave. “Here’s your gully, Dolph,” he said, looking out. “Shall we go any further?” “JT don’t know as it is any use. What do you think? — re guess this leads to the hidden mill, all right. 2 . “We might push on a short distance and find out how. the land lies.” Jack hurried forward. The path ran under a high, rocky ieee winding pe Below in the bottom of the gully, some thirty feet down, ran a noisy little stream. “This is a dangerous place. said at last. The words had scarcely eseaped him when a rifle shot woke the echoes. “Great heavens! I’m a goner!” cried the supelintend 2 ) ent, throwing up his hands and dropping upon the rocks. Jack turned and started for him. All in an instant a cord dropped about his neck. 7 “Pull!” cried a voice. The cord tightened. Jack threw up is eR to it, but too late. F In a second he was pulled off his feet, and, balance, slipped over the edge of the precipice, where a. — ee ee ee PP We had better go back,” he a Jack would have been a ‘iad boy - in two: minutes’ ti the coat collar

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Ap photograph of a pretty girl displayed on the mantel- = In the home of Dr. and Mrs. H. a Sewell at woaal Test June Miss Kauffman went to Chama to visit her sis- ter, Mrs. Sewell. She never returned East, but stayed in “the West to marry the: man who fell in love with her pic- ff : The Department of Agriculture calls attention to the fact that water, and not cold, is the cause of injury to ds in winter, even those of the best construction. It i obvi therefore, that it is a matter of economy, from ery point of view, that roads should be as dry as possible vi hen winter comes on, During the fall the road should be carefully gone over, and all ruts and hollows that can hold waiter sclidly filled in to make the camber of the road -Burface such that it will drain, mack ly and _ thoroughly. inding atthe side of the road should also be s they tend to soak and pica the foundations of the road, which may result in bad “heaving” when a a comes, ~ Tmmediate action by Congress to authorize an increase “in the corps of midshipmen at Annapolis is urged by Sec- etary Daniels in a letter to Chairman Padgett of the ouse Naval Committee. The letter states that if the full her of vacancies be made available for appointments by mbers of Congress before March, the academy will be to handle a much larger class next year. The short- f officers available for fleet duty, pointed out by Ad- ‘letcher in his, annual report, has been remedied “left vacancies elsewhere. The question of providing rs for these vacancies and new ships to be commis- in the next two or three years is one of serious con- te G. Smith, ape sci cie. of No. 652 North m avenue, Indianapolis, decided to commit suicide, ekly changed his mind after he had tasted a small earbolic acid. The customary fateful note, in attributed his despondency to a quarrel with his found in his pocket. Smith staged his attempt a drug: store-at Tilinois and Washington ter the clerk had sold him -the agid he turned held the. ‘upturned bottle to his lips.» A mo- he gave out a shriek, threw FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. TIMELY TOPICS rgely, it is said, but transfer of officers to active vessels | the bottle and re- inviting Tyneh. oll against the look for the chickadee. et he eee ou ewe. tree trunk, looking ; for insects, head Until the other day a horse belonging to Elias Chute, eighty years old, of No. 2404 Faraon street, St. Joseph, Mo., had not been outside of a little barn in the rear of 1626 Frederick avenue for more than a year. Through .|most of one winter, spring, summer, fall and part of an- other winter the faithful old animal had stood tied in his .| stall. His hoofs had grown over his shoes and everything about him showed that he had been neglected in everything but food and water. Humane Officer W. A. Ziemendorff learned of the case and when he went to the little barn the horse got his first breath of outdoor air in more than twelve months. Ziemendorff had the animal’s hoofs trimmed and exacted a promise from Chute that the horse would be exercised every day in the future. Chute said he had no use for the horse, and, not wishing to sell, had let him stand in the barn. ; Major-General George W. Goethals, Governor of the Canal Zone, will.soon issue a statement about the reopén- ing of the Panama Canal to light draft vessels. The state- ment was expected before General Goethals started for Washington on January 27%. General Goethals said that he had named Lieutenant-Colonel Jay J. Morrow; W. P.' Comber, head of the dredging operations of the canal, and Commander Hutch I. Cone as a board to study conditions at the Gaillard Cut, where the canal is blocked. He will _ base his proposed statement on this board's report. The 730 canal will be clear at this point for light draft vessels a | engineers say. Fortifications which General Goethals wi discuss with Congressional committees in Washington will BNE probably include forts on the Taboga and Atoke islands” and also at Minefield and on the Pearl Islands. The con- struction of a modern fort at the mouth of the Chargres ye River will also be considered. ) eee bet oe ia ee ‘The chikadee is a little bird, smaller even than the Eng- lish sparrow, but a small boy isn’t in it with him when it — i comes to a big dinner. He will eat—so the bird experts tell us—two or three hundred eggs of the aphis, besi spiders and beetles and grubs, within an hour. The aphis 5 is a louse that sucks the plant juices, and there are cater- rs that live under ee pillars that eat the Teaves and bore bark, all of which go to,make up the chickadee’s bill fare. When the trees are covered with sleet, however, bird’s larder is locked up and then he must forage for am berries that may remain on the shrubs, That is the to put a few crumbs or a handful of grain at the door or to hang a bit of suet on a tree. When the dee is hungry he may be willing to eat out of your bh you have made him familiar with your surro i him to The next time you go

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fe. NEW YORK, FEBRUARY 11, 1916. TERMS TO SUBSCRIBERS -05 Cents ~- HOW TO SEND MONEY--At onr risk send P. 0. Money Order, Check i ecteet Ty Letter; remittances in any other way are at your rigk. t Postage Stamps the same as cash. When sendin: silver ythe Coin ina Bos gor ptece of paper to avold culting tke envelope. rap the ir name and address plainly. Address ictiers w Frank Tousecy, Publisher 168 West 23d St., N. Y, GOOD CURRENT NEWS ARTICLES ES - A panther which has killed hundreds of pigs and hogs! fering, ry in the vicinity of the Vasser place, twelve miles north of ‘ Pine Ridge, Ark., was killed by Ty Nall, a farmer. The animal, a male, measured nine feet. His mate escapéd. Giristian County jail, Ozark, Mo., returned and gave himself up .to Sheriff John Turner. The two men made their escape during the absence of Sheriff Turner by digging a holg through a brick wall, _ With mind unbalanced: through. sickness, Adains Balse, 40 years old, of Lancaster, Pa.,.slipped from home early, the other morning partly dressed and was found nearly frozen at Harry Bausman’s barn, building, and in the absence of the men who placed him there he wandered into a mule’s sial] and was kicked to sd death. _ * fen thousand bushels of corn was the yield obtained by | Mrs. W. O. Mullins, of Junc'’ n City, Kan., this year and Be a= SB probably the largest in the county. This vield was ob- tained in spite of the fact that early summer floods washed out the corn planted in one 150-perp field. The entire Meld, has ne cribbed. i < While AOS about his ranch at Rice Hill, Oregon, Tondliet Rice, an aged resident of that vicinity, was at- tacked by an infuriated decr, Mr. Rice was knocked to the ground and only escaped whep the animal was beaten into submission by his son. A few days previously the deer attacked Mr. Rice’s daughter, bui she escaped without st serious in jorge Mr. Rice v was bruised. ; ‘The Rev. J. Franklin Shindel, pastor of the First Bap- as organizing a baseball team among the young men of congregation and that he would play first base himself. a pastor of Arlington, N. J., he played ball. He 2, th the other week and one of the first things have several men of the church act as spot- |-upon'them to become Fame and Fertune Weekly Cold and hungry, Harvey Seals, who eseaped from the | father? with I rank Kosmato,} with your kisses? Figura FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. That he had remained more than six weeks in a straw- stack without anything to eat was the story told by Charles Kowbowski, who is being nursed back to health at the Delta County almshouse, Michigan. Emaciated, the mere | shadow of a man, Kowbowski was uncovered by men who were working on a farm near Gladstone. Kowbowski, who |is of German-Polish birth, came to this country two years | ago. He has worked in various cities of the upper penin- cula, but he'could not find steady employment. When he reached Isabella his shoes were worn- out and his feet were sore. He was also weak from hunger when he came upon the strawstack, which he decided to make his home. | He does not remember all the details of his long stay in the tack. He says he remembered going out three times to get a drink of water, but that he had nothing to eat. He lost the power of swallowing, and liquid food had to be | given to him by artificial means. The power to swallow has now returned, and with it strength to tell of his suf- GRINS AND CHUCKLES HenriIf 1 kissed you, would you give it away to your Marie—Of course not! What would -he want hest.teconyince George that I am “1 have worn the ST am doing my econontical.”’ “What have you done?” same dress twice.” Ted—What makes you think old’ Rocksey doesn’t intend to let vou marry his daughter? Ned—The tip he gave me ‘ He was carried into the|.on the « stock market was a loser.’ Stubh—No, I can’t get along with my wife. Everything Isay she retorts: “I beg to differ with you!” »Pen—You are lucky, old man. My wife just differs without taking | the time to beg. Mildred—That English earl your sister married is a dear little “fellow, isn’t he? Sadie—Dear? TI should say so. Papa paid half a million for him. “Does the baby talk yet?” asked a friend of the family. *No,” replied the baby’s diggusted little brother, “the baby doesn’t have to talk.” “Doesn’t have to talk?” “No; all the baby has to do is to yell, and it gets anything there is — in the house that’s worth having.” , Down in the black belt Billy Bunch, a white-headed old darky, had been appointed bailiff. The magistrate pro- ceeded to administer the oath, “Do you solemnly swear to | support the constitution of the ——” “Hol’ on, boss,” in-— terrupted old Billy. “I can’t tek-dat oaf, ‘cause as hit tist Church, Bayonne, N. J., announced recently that he|all.old Billy kin do ter s‘port Betsy an’ the chillun.” Se tat “What's the matter?” asked the lawyer's friend. “hea in a railway accident?” “No; I had a jury case the other — day, and in arguing it I bore strongly upon the theor that my client was a fool rather than a criminal.” — “J did it so well that he was acquitted and met: :

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FAME ‘MAD MATT. oF ee By Kit ¢ Kit Clyde “ fs ego, Mad Matt is dead, you tell me?” Yes.’ took his own brains out, eh?” ee as Meg” = “I believe I could have ctcaigk iG” _ “Very likely.” “They would not send him here, though; they would Keep him at home, and this is the result.” _ “They said he been acting rationally.” pif Weinsense'! He couldn’t do it if he tried. He might appear rational, but that was only his madness. He was worse when he acted that way. That’s how I al- ‘ways found him.” Well, he’s dead now, poor fellow, and won't trouble : any more.” na “Ye5, I’m sorry for him.” The above conversation took place sabi my uncle and | a friend of his, and was in reference to a man who had illed himself. y¥ find, upon looking carefully over my uncle’s papers, €m account of this.man’s-life*and death, and, thinking it t; T here lay it before my readers. v Creighton was the son of a prominent lawyer. “a much study had turned his brain, in addition to which ae inherited taupetty from his mother’s side of the 7 had a ‘itriies hallucination, and that was that he his own mind to its normal condition by pro- smart*man and putting them into his own head aving first gotten rid of his diseased brain, and thus mak- ‘room for the newer and better ones. used to go hunting foxes, for, he said, they were very , and he knew that if he could take the brain these creatures and put it into a own head he become shrewd ‘si hrev wdness, added to ripe wisdom, he Beriek: was all ted, and as soon as he could obtain the proper com- ion, he would be perfectly sane once more. seemed. to know that ‘he was not right in his head, se to ponder over the problem hours at a time. bed “cared to part with their brains even for his ben- ‘man whom he approached and talked _to upon 4 bei perfectly, satisfied with. what he had and xchange. © 3 a them ‘that he wouuld pay them well for having “plenty ‘af money, and that they need fear of getting goed brains in exchange, ave a fox brain, or a bear: brain, or that of a fer pert ine ae celal ‘ i oing me a great fa- 8 be fete mi a AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. ated ng the brains of the most sagacious animals and that of | >} was no use in trying to get it out, for it was bound to stay duced to-part with them under any consideration; 00d that he must look elsewhere. Finally, after having tried persuasion in vain, he “detet mined to use force; and .at all hazards possess himself of the coyeted treasure. One night, quite late, as Dr. Parsons, a well-known and very learned physician of the town, was sitting alone in his study, reading by the light of a large lamp placed re 2 the table, he heard a strange noise. | Glancing up from his book he beheld that he had a visitor. That visitor was Mad Matt. The man had a wild look in his eyes, and seemed bent | upon some mission which he wag determined should be | successful. “Good-evening, Matt,” said the doctor. do for you to-night ?” | Matt advanced, after locking the door behind him, and lsaid, in an earnest tone, and as if there was no doubt as / “What can a ' to his request being complied with: “T want your brain!” “But my dear sir,” said the doctor, still seated, and | thinking to humor him out of his madness, “I want it ae self; I have use’ for it.” “You have had it long enough, and I must have it now. You are an older man than I, and your brain is large, well developed and perfectly ripe and sound.” “So I have always believed myself, and I am glad it see that your opinion coincides with mine. You have rare judgment, Matt. Your brain has got nothing the matter with it.” 7 The doctor hoped to wheedle the maniac out of his nos _ tion, but he had better given up that idea at the start. When Matt once got a notion into his addled head there there until something usurped its “place. <Tf you ‘think ‘to oi, 9s, cast Mave,” salad cunningly. “We will exchange.” “No, I believe not.” “You won’t give me your brain?” said the wae coming nearer. “No,” said the doctor, rising. “Then T shall take it, whether you like it-or ‘ob? ; swered Matt, rushing upon the physician, and flourishing — a knife which he had drawn from its place of concealment in his breast pocket. Now, the doctor, although an ola man, was still in the seared gras genie ic a much younger than he was, Suddenly rushing upon Matt, overturning his | the act, he seized the madman by the throat, and: him to the floor, despite his resistance. ‘He tightened eae began to beg for mercy. “T am going to. vil you,” ssid the docton, tention of doing so, of course, but merely desi the bry ee that he hed met his m .

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ae Wee PE uy . hanged! p ee “The doctor released the man, having already pushed his : Knife out of sight with his foot, the weapon having fallen to the floor at the beginning of the struggle. ~ As soon as Matt was released he fled’ at once, having ~ been thoroughly cowed, and the doctor, seeing that he was safe from further intrusion, went on with his reading. “He reported the case to the lunacy commissioners, and Matt's friends were requested to have him coined in the| asylum. The man appeared to be much more sane after that, and : his friends declined to have him committed, saying that it pape would only make him worse. = “It was the opinion of my uncle that the man could have ie ‘ultimately been cured, by proper treatment, or at least, made so ‘comparatively sane that it would not have been at all dangerous to have him around. ‘The friends would not consent to this, however, having a horror of insane asylums, and so Matt was not com- mitted, although a stricter watch was kept upon him than before. It would have been better if my uncle’s advice had been followed. me In that case, more than one life would have been saved, % f and Matt could have been made a comparatively useful eed: | append of society. Let us proceed to the sequel. ~ For a while Matt seemed to be perfectly sane and ra- tional, but it was not long before he broke out again and pereme more insane than ever. ~ One evening, just as dusk, a promising lawyer of the was going home, and was paseing along a lonely part of the road. ; ~. Suddenly a man sprang out upon him, and before he 2 Koala resist or cry out he was bound and gagged. " + He was a prisoner in the hands of Mad Matt, and he by sgh = Jona not for one instant doubt the purpose of the maniac. aah - * Matt dragged him away to a lonely building upon his Lewy father’s estate, where he had been wont to tan the skin of foxes and other animals he had killed. : _ Upon a shelf were numerous jars, in which he had pre- v4 served the brains of the animals, and there they were, in a ; ghastly row, the place being illuminated by the light of one sickly, smoky lamp. _. To this place Matt carried the lawyer, and, strapping i see to a bench, produced some sharp knives. “Now to proceed with my work!” hissed the madman. will be a beautiful experiment ; his brain is a fine one.” ni poor victim. was unable to utter a sound, or to make hy alway ‘and his heart sank within him as he ‘realized what his fate would be. “Matt tried the edge of the knife upon his thumb to see it was sharp er igh, and then, with a smile of satisfac- advanced toward his victim. | 3 i have wo wap bi im first, so as to get at his eins in the scalp. rif ,” he said ; “but I am no tutors observed a boy cleaning his knife on Cae tablec and immediately pounced on him. Le! Suppose 1 d know ses to. 0 go ‘you generally do at home, sir?” he remarked, ste _ |no,” replied the boy, quietly FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. gad Tt would make a murderer of me, and I should be| mini cutting merely beneath the skin, as he had no de- sire to kill him: | The operation of scalping a man does not necessarily kill him, as men have been known to be scalped and live many years afterward; but I never heard of anybody who underwent an operation from choice. Meanwhile, the lawyer had been making frantic efforts to remove the gag from his mouth, and succeeded in doing so just at this interesting stage of the proceedings. He at once gave vent to the most piercing, unearthly © yell that ever was heard from a human throat, following — it up by others as loud, as often as he could draw breath. , Even Matt was astonished; and for a moment was ren- derei perfectly incapable of action. Then he placed one hand over the man’s mouth, and prepared to continue his work. . The eries had been heard, othe jae and help was at hand. A farm laborer, happening to be passing not far off, heard the terrible cries for help and hastened to the spot. The cries, being repeated, showed him whence they pro- ceeded, and he had no doubt that some one was being mur- dered in the Jittle isolated building. He burst in the door with one powerful shove Scams his broad shoulders, and the whole fearful scene burst upon him in an instant. He seized Matt in his strong arms and tried to drag Mie. away, but the madman, turning upon him, plunged. his knife to the haft in his heart, and then dashed from the place. : thers had heard those agonized cries for help, and in a moment the place was surrounded by an excited crowd. Matt had escaped, and the farmer was dead, but the lawyer was still conscious, and a physician being sum- moned, he was released from his confinement. His scalp, which had only been half severed, was re-— placed, and the skin was sewed up, after which he was re- moved to his home, i The treatment he had received did not prove fatal, — neither the skull nor brain having been injured in the least, and in the course of a month or so his wound had healed, and he was none the worse for his strange ex-_ perience with Mad Matt. The maniac was not discovered for a long time, although a thorough search was made for him. _ He was at last found in a little hut that he had built i in’ the very heart of the woods, where he had oceasionall stayed overnight while hunting. But he was dead. It was never known how he died. The head master of a boarding school a few miles | of London is very particular about the behavior scholars during meal times, a fact of which the masters are fully aware. A short time back one

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“FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. NEWS OF THE DAY ee “A check. for taxes due has been received by County Treasurer C. H. Gove, of Junction City, Kan., in pay- ment of the most unusual valuation ever made by a Geary County assessor. The check came from a former Junction City man and was in payment for taxes imposed before he ie Ps The tight cents was for personal property valuation, and the $6 was to cover the State tax of $1 on each of six dogs owned hy the former Junction City man. Twenty district attorneys from various Oregon counties met in Salem, Ore., in conference with Attorney-General George W. Brown to discuss ways and means for enforcing _ ‘the Oregon prohibition law. One of the questions decided Was that farmers will not be permitted to sell hard cider. The farmer, it was held, may allow his cider to turn to! Vinegar and sell the vinegar, but it will be held unlawful _ throughout Oregon for cider tg be sold while it is between the sweet cider stage and the vinegar stage. _ All sorts of French. clubs and. societies haye been remov- - ing the names of Germans and Austrians from their mem- bership lists and now it is the turn of the Bulgars to be erased. The Acclimatation Society, which runs the Paris} _ Zoological Gardens, has not been satisfied with merely * dropping its Bulgarian members. It has decided to pre- sent a sum of $200, once given to it by King Ferdinand, ~ Czar of the Bulgarians, to some Serbian charity. M. Ves- - nitch, the Serjian Minister, on receiving the sum, allotted ‘ it to a charitable work for Serbian children. Ps Os IR Lloyd Carr, fourteen-year-old son of Sherman Carr, is ~ entitled to wear the belt as the champion weasel hunter of | jurist’s lips. Judge Carpenter, who was elected last No- | ~ Waynesboro, Pa. While hunting rabbits along’the Road-| vember for a full term of ten years, had been sworn in and ~ side road he chazedya weasel ‘under.a rock pile on the side | had stepped down to shake hands with the politicians. in of the hill. Believing that there was a weasel den under _ these rocks te boy came to town and, securing a steel trap, set it in front of the hole. His efforts were rewarded when a4 he went to his trap and found, the next morning, a pure “white weasel dead in the trap. The animal was beauti- fully marked, the bedy being a creamy white, the feet and tip of the tail light brown, and a light brown spot on the oh between the ears. It measured seventeen inches. Alihougl’ he has traveled to nearly every part of the rid since his parole a year ago by Cireuit Judge Percy Kelly, of Salem, Ore, John Schulz, convieted of at- ng George Brown, a Newberg farmer, has faithfully ed his whereabouts each month. In a letter re- d Schulz says he is “somewhere in France” and on ‘way to London. A few months ago Schulz reported Canada, where he said he had been arrested as a Ger- n spy. He was released later and to avoid further-diffi- in his next letter he signed the name John Wilson. parole Schulz has reported from Atlantic coast ada, South America, Sweden and France. moved to Missouri several months ago., It was for $6.08. | | | ‘so great an impression on the throng of well-wishers as a Surgeons connected with the University Hospital of Bal- timore are much interested in an operation performed the other day, when a large portion of the stomach of Harold B. Arnold was removed and a new digestive organ, formed from the unaffected tissues, slightly smaller than the or- dinary tennis ball, was put in its place. His condition is now greatly improved and. he receives predigested food through a glass tube. In the event of the complete recoy- ery of Arnold, he will have to receive nourishment at least a dozen times a day because of the minuteness of his stom- ach. It is so small now that it will only contain the amount of liquid held by an ordinary tea eup. Chairman Lemuel P. Padgett, of the House Commitiee on Naval Affairs, in a speech at the Republican Club: as- serted that ship for ship the United States navy is the finest afloat; that its target practise was never as good as to-day ; that-it is adequately supplied with guns, shells, tor- pedoes and that it had plenty of men. Padgett attacked the critics of the navy and divided them into three classes: those who’ belittle it for personal adyancement; those who magnify its strength for selfish purposes, and those who criticise it without knowledge. He read a letter from Admiral Fletcher, in which the commanding officer of the Atlantic fleet stated that the ships under his command are superior to vessels of like type in other navies. Congratulations showered on Judge James McF. Car- penter when he took his place on the bench of the Com- mon Pleas Court, Pittsburgh, recently, did not make nearly resounding kiss, implanted fairly and squarely on the the courtrooms. As he left the bench his daughter, Miss a Alice Lazear Carpenter, stepped up, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Oh, I’m so proud!” Miss Car- /penter exclaimed as the judge disentangled himself. “Eh, umph! And so am I,” her father replied as he reached for a dozen hands stretched in his direction. The old Algoa, formerly hoodoo freighter of the former Pacifie Mail, has blossomed out as a real war baby. This — steamer, which in times of peace used to be tied up in the lower bay of San Francisco, with cold boilers for long pe- riods, has earned $300,000 that was paid for her when she was rechristened the California. Also she has earned — $90,000 more. Furthermore, the California—nee Algoa— — has now been chartered to a powder company at $1,700 — a day, or $51,000 a month, or $612,000 a year, or more | than twice as much as her owners paid for her. It is. nf stipulated in this last charter that she shall ply only oe

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= . HOG WITH FIVE FEET. . FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. “INT ERESTING ARTICLES tion. Following their decision to com pete in the Chicago ee Andy Adams, of Stamford, Ky., has a funny freak of six-day race despite threats of suspension by the N.C. A, nature in the way of a five-footed hog. The porker weighs | the riders organized the American Racing Men’s Union, feet. aay NEW RUINS DISCOVERED. a Extensive ruins have been found in New Mexico by Dr. | : J. Walter Fewkes. of the Smithsonian Institution, whe . made his report to the Interior Department recently. The _- ‘mound, the largest of any thus far located, was in Mesa Verde National Park and apparently was built for religious %s rites and ceremonials. It has-been named Sun Temple. There are twenty-five rooms, and the walls, more than 1,000 feet in length, average 4 feet thick. Cedar and pinyon trees growing above the mound would indicate that it had been built about 1300 A. D. * “ SELLS AN EGG FOR $1,000. cag Thrifty housewives who blame their grocers for demand- 2 ing 60 cents a dozen for eggs may congratulate themselves that they are not compelled to make their purchases from . Mrs. Robert*Gilfort, of Orange, N. J. The other day she disposed of her egg supply at the very satisfactory rate. of $12,000 a dozen. te The transaction was not as extensive as Mrs. Gilfort a may have desired, however, since it ‘involved but one | é egg, that of the fabled roc, of Arabian Nights’ fame, “an = ’ the purchaser was the Denver Museum. Teclnically, it is the egg of the Alpyornis, the fossil bird of Madagascar, but three of which are to be found in this iach BEAR HUNT IN PARK. lowed the escape of a two-year-old bear owned by Frank ‘Brumbaugh. The animal had been sent to Mr. Brum- -baugh when a cub by a friend in northern Michigan. It recently developed a bad BaEper and the owner decided to es. it killed. :- e este and his brother Charles led Babe, as. the was known, out of a barn. The animal broke away resisted capture so strenuously that both men suffered ‘and claw wounds on their hands. They then per- the fugitive to trot to the near-by park. Little, a city fireman, who is known as a good s] was summoned with his rifle. His first shot y wounded the bear, which then climbed to the top of Ting defiance Aone opera: shot aap e real bear hunt in Willowdale Park, Elkhart, Ind.,-fol-| This leaves champion: Frank Kraemer and Cesar Moretti believe that the N. C. A. will win in the end.” “ | cussing the latest developments in ee sae > C about 125 pounds and has five well-formed and developed | 2d will seek affiliation with the American Federation of | Labor. The Riders’ Union have decided to yest in themselves the right to grant franchises. Net only did the riders de- cide to remoye the treasure reom from the National Cy- — cling Association, but they voted to cut loose from the governing body entirely. It is the first time athletes ac- tively engaged in a sport have attempted to control the sport themselves. The action was taken following a lengthy address to the riders assembled at Mackay’s Hall in Newark by Alf — Goullet.. The Austrian rider’s address fulfilled ‘the pre- diction of Thomas Convey to the effect that the plans Goullet proposed to lay before the riders would end the squabble between the Chicago promoters and the Cycle Racing Association in reference to securing a sanction | for the proposed six-day race in the Windy City. With riders assuming control of the sport, the Chicago promoters can now secure their franchise from the riders’ organization, which has set a price of $50 a franchise, the amount charged by the National Cycling Association. All funds collected hy the union will be used to defray the ex- penses of the organization, Goullet saidthat the purpose of the union was for the q| betterment of the sport in general, which could be gotten” only by the co-operation of the riders, who wished in turn ~ to work in harmony with the promoters for the good of all concerned. Alf Grenda was present at. the meeting and ee q member of the riders’ organization. The addition a Va Grenda the forces produced considerable jubilation, aT of Italv the only prominent riders in this country who are 5 not in the union. 7 Grenda is ready to sign a contract to ride in the Chicago ay race, so he stated after the meeting. a Chairman R. F. Kelsey, of the National Cycling Asso- = : ciation, stated that the action of the professional rider union would not result in the destruction of the o1 tion, which has governed cycling for the past seve years. “We will go on doing —_— just the samé as before said Kelsey. “There are more than a thousand) am members of the N. C. A. in this country, in addition fully as many professionals as have broken away. the riders who have seceded are strong” in caliber as Frank Mihlon, of the Cycle Racing bore rai : _| there would be tie taken

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TAKE NOTICE! lich Powder, Bombs and Cachoo cannot be sent by mail. Only orders for these goods amounting to one dol- lar will be accepted, as delivery will have to be made by express. THE PHANTOM FINGER, As these fingers are cast In moulds in which a person's fin- gers have been encased, they are a@ lifelike model of the same. The finger can be made to pass through a person’s hat or coat without injury to the hat or gar- ment. It appears to be your own finger. A perfect illusion. Price, 15e.; 2 for 25c., postpaid. WOLFF NOVELTY CO., 29 W. 26th St., N. ¥, TRICK COIN HOLDER. — Tie coin holder Is at- tached to a ring made so as to fit anyone's finger. The holder clasps tightly a 25c. piece. When the ring is Placed on the finger with the coin showing on the patm of the hand and offered in changa it cannot be picked MPs A nice way to tip people. Price by mail, postpaid, 10c. each, WOLFF NOVELTY CO., 29 W. 26th St., N. ¥ THE FRIGHTFUL RATTLESNAKE! To all appearanceit isa harmless piece of coiled paper with a mouth- = ‘piece attachment, but upon placing it to one’s , mouth, and blowing into the tube, ar imita- tion snake over two feet in length springs out of the roll like a flash of lightning, producing a eetagling. flut- tering sound that would frighten a wild In- dian. We guarantee our rattlesnake not to bite, but would not advise you to play. the joke on timid women or delicate children. ch snake packed in a box. Price, 10c.; $3 for 25e., mailed postpaid. WOLFF NOVELTY CO., 29 W. 26th St., N. ¥ You Wis to gain and maintain the affection of another? Send fora package of our wone derful Oriontal Powder with full directions for use, Harmless. Lasting. Guaranteed. Prices 10 CENTS; & packages 25c. Book of Private Tips free with exch, Address STAR CO., 29 Clinton St.. CHICAGO. D> BovSs:: a bundle of STAGE GREENBACKS and have «the time of your iife. Looks like the real stuff, ash a roll on your friends = aud be POpUIAE. Girls will be after you ~ too. Big roll of 20 Bills 10¢: 8 rolis ooo STAR CO, 26 Clinton St. CHICAGO. postpaid KNITTER Every boy who wants a whip-lash, pair of reins, or any other knitted article of similar kind should have a Knitter, Anybody can work it. The most beautiful de- signs can be made by using colored worsteds with this handy little object. It is handsomely lacquered, strongly made, and the wires are very durable. Price, 10c. each, by mail, postpaid. C. BEHR, 150 W. 62d St., New York City. WINDOW SMASHERS. The greatest sensation, just from Paris. A most wonder- ful effect of a smashing, breaking, falling pane. or gs! It will electrify every- bedy. When yeu come home, Slam the door shut and at the same time throw the discs to the floor. Every pane of glass in the house will at once seem to have been shat- tered. Price, by mail, postpaid, 35¢., a set of six pilates, WOLFF NOVELTY CO., 29 W. 26th St., N. Y. THE JOKER’S CIGAR. The biggest sell of the sea son. A real cigar made of $ks, tobacco, but secreted in the Ge center of cigar about one-half zi" inch from end is a fountain Wie of sparklets. The moment ty the fire reaches this fountain * hundreds of sparks of fire burst forth in every direction, te the astonishment of the smoker. The fire is stage fire, and will not-burn the skin or clething. After the fireworks the victim can centinue smoking the cigar to the end. Price, l0c.; 3 for 25c; 1 dozen, 90c., mailed, post- pai Cc. BERR, 150 W. 62d St., New York City. GREENBACKS Pack of $1,000 Stage Bills, 10c; 8 packs, 250. Send for 8 pack and show the boys what a W a haa c. A. MICHOLS, IR. Bex 90, Chili, xX RAY CURIO 15 CT: ‘Ss wEw NTIFIO ith t trnmen! oie - apparently see the bones ln your hand, lead in a pen- cll, see thru cloth ,wood &c, Have no end of fun. Get one today. Price I5e, 2-3c STAR CO. Dept. 90, CHICAGO, ILL. Address ‘CHAPLIN DANCER 10¢ Boys and girls ff you want tosee a regular eircus get this funniest of fnnny clown lancers. Charlie stands 15 inches high and will dance, jig, roll his eyes, throw his arm and cane and Wiggle his funny mustache as natural as life. » all know Charlie. He will entertain the whole family for weeks (2%, Price 10c. STAR CO. Dept. 45, CHICAGO'S ay $36. MEX. MONEY 50 a. 3 ma\ Genuine Mexican Currency as issued by Se FEED rorces of General Francisco Villa, These 6) bills make fine souvenirs of the Mexican ® Revolution, 50c,$1, 5,810 and $20 bills 25 cents each orall 5 forSc. Selling fast. Ee STAR CO. Dept M. CHICAGO,ILL, Funniest Cards 100 Cha Vim out, ait showing tharlie Chapliz Cards 1 Sc Comic Capers. A regular scream, Pass them to your frieads and have 100 biglaughs. We send 100 Chap- lin Cards and the new Chaplin Clown Joke Book for 10 cents, AR CO., CHICAGO & Chas. Chaplin Outfit 10¢ \. False Mustache, Im.Gold Sheil Touthevors “> wer, Spo % * plin ck . ) sea doe ena Book, Roll Stage Money and Catalog of 1000 Tric ks, ouzzies ete. HIS ENTIRE OUTFIT sent + postpald for TEN CENTS. Fun fora year. StTar Co:9 CLINTON CHICAGO WE WANT YOU TO READ “Nioving Picture Stories” A Weekly Magazine devoted to Photoplays and Players . 3 Absolutely the finest little publication on the news-stands a PRICE 5 CENTS A COPY @% “ISSUED EVERY FRIDAY BEAUTIFUL COLORED COVER DESICN : New portraits of actors and actresses every week - EVERY NUMBER CONTAINS THIRTY-TWO PAGES FINE HALF-TONE FRONTISPIECES Get a copy of this weekly magazine and see what itis Six Gripping Stories, based on the latest and best films, each profusely Mlustrated with fine half-tones of scenes in the plays. Photographs and Biographies of the most celebrated Photoplay actors and actresses. Special Articles relating to Moving Pictures, written by the greatest authorities in the film business. News Notes from the studios about the doings of everybody of prominence connected with the Photoplays. Scenario Hints and the names of all the companies who may buy the plays you write. Poems, Jingles, Jests and every bright feature calculated to interest buth young and old. GET A COPY NOW trom y you the latest. number issued. our newsdealer, or send us 5 cents in money or postage stamps, and we will mail , “MOVING PICTURE STORIES,” Inc. 168 West 23d Street New York

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FRANK TOUSEY, PUBLISHER, 168 WEST 23D STREET, NEW YORK No. 890. NEW YORK, FEBRUARY 11, 1916. Price 6 Cents. THE BRADY'S prea GRAF TERS OR .THE MYSTERY IN THE CAB. Ly AL YOKD lk.

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? Siig eaaaed ones’ us B12 Always on Deck: on The Hoy Who Made Ha Mark 478 In the Copper Field; or, The Mine That Made the Money. 513 A Mine of Money; or, The Young Wall Street Broker. co 7 ae be ae a B sy ae % a py — Great Scoop 514 The Ladder of Fame For gtrom Baice Bo y ito Senator. tart in e; or, ‘oor Boy's Rise to Fame. bh : or, e Success o ‘, 481 A Wide Awake Boy; or, Born With a Winning Streak. B18 Pitter A Tortie: en The Pluckiest Boy in the West. ~ 482 aor the Money; or, How Ben Bailey Made His Mark. 517 Winning the Dollars: or, The Young Wonder of Wal! Street. i83 % eh on: = as goby fea 5 538 Making His Mark; or, The ee Pod a, reece a 485 Andy, the Mill Bo 7 OF "Rising ro the Top. sz: 519 Heir to a Miflion > OF. The | bled pe ey, 486 Fame Before the Footlights : or, The Boy Who Bossed the Theater ee ro i Ao gtcky ca ae Boy in Wall Street 487 Lucky Lee, the Office Boy: or, The Nerviest Lad in New York 255 r teoy Chance: or, Taking Fortune on the Wing. 488 Sure to Get Rich; or, A Smart Young Messenger. 523 The Road to Success; or, The Career of a Fortunate Gay 489 Pushing it Through; or, The Yate of a Lucky Boy. 524 Chasing Pointers: or, The Luckiest Boy In a 490 A Born Speculator; or, The Young Sphinx of Wall Street. 525 Rising In the World; or, From Factory Boy to Manager 492 Strack Oil: or, The Bos Who Made n°Milion 626 From Dark to Dawn's or, A Poor Boy's Chance. | sek. x : mself ; or, . 493 A Golden Risk: or, The Young Miners of Della Cruz. Bas Gime n Cae Dinah che The: Bow Beckers of Wall Sema! 494 A Sure Winner: or, The Boy Who Went Out With a Circus. 529 A Start In Life; or, A Bright Boy’s Ambition. 495 Golden Fleece: or, The Boy Brokers of Wall Street. 530 Out for a Million; or, The Young Midas of Wall Street. 496 A Madcap Scheme: or. The Boy Treasure Hunters of Cocos Island. | 531 Every Inch a Boy; or, Doing H s Level Best. 497 Adrift on the World: or, Working His Way to Fortune. 532 On to Success; or, The Roy Who Got Ahead. 498 Flaying to Win: or, “ihe —_ y in Wall Street 533 An Eye to Business; or, The Boy Who Was i ram eerie pl de lag I eggs © nog SE eee 534 ‘Tipped by the Ticker: or, An Ambitious Boy in Wall Street. 500 A Young Monte Cristo: or. bn chest = : e 535 Money to Burn ; or, The 'Shrewdest Boy in va ! tr : ee ce ee Dare WhO Rae a 336 A Bid for a Fortune: or, A Country Boy in Wall Street. 508 A Rolling Stone: or, The Brightest Boy on Wecord. Sr ere Bier ee, Sian vag Bin Way to Susman. 504 Never Say Die: or, The Young Surveyor of Happy Valley. oe pnd pec ie rein sonenihe le Who Won Both. 505 Boss of the Market: or, The Greatest Boy in Wall Street. 540 A Wall Street Winner; or, Making a Mint of Money. 506 The Chance of His Life: or, The Young Pilot of Crytal Lake. : Wealth : - Th Who Found it Out. 508 One tae inn: Th "Smartest, Bae in — 542 ag h Wing: 3 The Band sn A of Wall Street. ness: or, The Smarte n Town. 3 ‘ iS Sean tT tk or, Striking Tt Rich in Wall Street. 543 A Chase for a Fortune; or; The Bo eres oS ona 90 Through Thick and Thin: or, The Adventures of a Smart Boy 544 Juggling with the Market; or, The Boy } ve 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, - - - - : 168 West 23d St., New York. IF YOU WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS of our weeklies and cannot procure them from newsdealers, they can be obtained from this office direct. Write out and fill in your Order and send it to us with the price of the weeklies you want and we will send them to you by return mail POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS MONEY. FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, - . - : * 168 West 23d St., New York. oUF TEN-CENT HAND Books No. 1. NAPOLEON’S ORACULUM AND DREAM BOOK.—Containing the great oracle of human destiny; also the true meaning of almost any kind of dreams, together with charms, ceremonies, and curious games of cards. No. 2. HOW TO DO TRICKS.—The great beok.of magic and card tricks, containing full instruction on al! the leading card tricks of the day, also the most popular magical fllu- sicns as performed by our leading magicians; every boy should obtain a copy of this book. No. 8. HOW TO FLIRT.—The arts and wiles of flirtation are fully explained by this little book. Besides the various methods of handkerchief, fan, glove, parasol, window and hat flirtation, it contain full list of the language and sentiment o owers. No. < OW TO DANCE is the title of this little book. It contains full instructions in the art of dancing, etiquette in the ball- Foom and at parties, how to dress, and full directions for calling off in all popular square ces. No. 5. HOW TO MAKE LOVE.—A com- Plete guide to love, courtship and marriage, eying sensible advice, rules and etiquette to observed, with many curious and interest- ing things not generally known. No. 6. HOW TO BECOME AN ATHLETE. —Giving full instruction for the use of dumb- Dells, Indian clubs, parallel bars, horizontal! bars and various other methods of developing ® good, healthy muscle; containing over sixty fllustrations. No. 7 HOW TO KEEP BIRDS.—Hand- somely illustrated and containing full instruc- tions for the management and training of the canary, mockingbird, bobolink, blackbird, paro- uet, parrot, etc. o 9% HOW TO BECOME A VENTRILO- QUIST.—By Harry Kennedy. Every intelli- gent boy reading this book of instructions can Master the art, and create any amount of fun for himself and friends. It is the greatest book ever published. No. 10. HOW TO BOX.—The art of self- defense made easy. Containing over thirty illustrations of guards, blows, and the differ- ent positions of a good boxer. Every boy should obtain one of these useful and instruc- tive books, as it will teach you how to box without an instructor. No. 11. HOW TO WRITE LOVE-L bs —A most complete little book, containing full ETIQUETTE.—It is a great life secret, and one that every young man desires to know all about There’s happiness in it. No. 14. HOW TO MAKE CANDY.—A com- plete hand-Gook for making all Reo of candy, ice-cream, syrips, essences, etc., etc. No. 18. HOW TO BECOME BEAUTIFUL. —One of the brightest and most valuable little books ever given to the world. Every- body wishes to know how to become beauti- ful, both male and female. The secret is simple, and almost costless. No. 20. W TO ENTERTAIN AN EVEN- games, sports, card diversions, comic recita- tions, etc., suitable for parlor or drawing- room entertainment. It contains more for the money than any book published. No 21. HOW TO HUNT AND FISH.—The most complete hunting and fishing guide ever published. It contains full instructions about guns, hunting dogs, traps, trapping and fish- ing. together with description of game and 3 y No. 22. HOW TO DO SECOND SIGHT.— Heller’s second sight explained by his former assistant, Hunt, Jr. Explaining how the secret dialogues were carried on between the magician and the boy on the stage; also giv- ing all the codes and signals. o. 23. HOW TO EXPLAIN DREAMS.— This little book es the explanation to all kinds of dreams, together with lucky and unlucky days. No. 24. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS TO GENTLEMEN.—Containing full directions for writing to gentlemen on all subjects. No. 25. HOW TO BECOME A GYMNAST.— Containing full instructions for all kinds of gymnastic sports and athletic exercises. Em- bracing thirty-five illustrations, By Professor W. Macdonald. No. 26. HOW TO ROW, SAIL AND BUILD A BOAT.—Fully illustrated. Full instructions are given in this little book, together with in- structions on swimming and riding, companion sports to oY No. 27. HOW ‘rO RECITE AND BOOK OF RECITATIONS.—Containing the most popula: selections in use, comprising Dutch dialect, French dialect, Yankee and Irish “dialect pieces, together with many standard readings. 0. Seats TO TELL RTUNES.— Everyone ig desirous of knowing what his future life will bring forth, whether happiness No. 30. HOW TO COOK.—One of the most instructive books on cooking ever published. It contains recipes for cooking meats, game, and oysters; also pies, puddings, cakes and all kinds of pastry, and a grand collec- tion of recipes. No. 31. HOW TO BECOME A SP —Containing fourteen illustrations, giving the different positions requisite to become & good speaker, reader and elocutionist. Also con- taining gems from all the popular authors of Prose and poetry. No. 32. HO TO RIDE A BICYCLE.— Containing instructions for beginners, choice of a machine, hints on training, etc. A com- plete book. Full of practical filustrations. No. 35. HOW TO PLAY GAMES.—A com- plete and useful ‘little book, containing the rules and regulations of billiards, bagatelle, backgammon, croquet, dominoes, etc. No. 36. HOW TO SOLVE CONUNDRUMS, —Containing all the leading conundrums of the day, amusing riddles, curious catches and witty sayings. No. 38. HOW TO BECOME YOUR Own DOCTOR.—A wonderful book, containing use- ful and practical information in the treatment of ordinary diseases and ailments common to every family. Abounding in useful and effec- tive recipes for general complaints. No. 39. HOW TO RAISE DOGS, POULTRY, PIGEONS AND RABBITS,—A useful and in- structive book. OMAR Xn ustrated. No. 40. HOW TO MAKE D SET —Including hints on how to catch moles, weasels, otter, rats, squirrels and birds. Also how to cure skins. Copiously illustrated. No. 41. THE BOYS OF NEW YORK END MEN’S JOKE BOOK.—Containing a great va- riety of the latest ‘jokes used by the most famous end men. No amateur minstrels is” complete without this wonderful little book. No. 42. THE YS OF » STUMP SPEAKER.—Containing a sortment of stump speeches, Negro, and Irish. Also end men's jokes. Just the thing for — amusement and amateur shows, No. 43. HOW TO BECOME A I —Containing the grandest cooortunmml at aes ical illusions ever placed before the public. Also tricks with cards. incantations, ete No. 44. HOW TO WRITE IN AN AL- BUM.—A grand collection of Album Verses — suitable for any time and occasion: embrac- ing Lines of Love, Affection, Sentiment, Hu- mor, Respect, and Condolence; ciso Verses : Suitable for Valentines and Weddings, : @irections for writing love-letters, and when or misery, wealth or poverty. You can tell to use them, giving specimen letters for by a glance at this little book. Buy one and g and old. be convinced. No. 45. THE BOYS OF NEW YORK MIN- . 12. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS TO No. 29. HOW TO BECOME AN INVENTCR. | STREL GUIDE AND J BOOK.—Some- ite. —Giving complete instructions for | —Every boy should know how inventions orig- | thing new and very ieecaeaee e ee inna ceases ee les in electricity, hydrauli i ecniees Sees rs of introduction, es and requests. examples in electricity, hydraulics, magnet- nstructions for organizing an ama: min- as 4 13. ioW TO DO IT; OR, BOOK OF! ism, optics, pneumatics, mechanics, etc. stre] troupe. 5 For sale by all auadealers: OF Will be sent to any address on receipt of price, 10 cts. per copy, ur 3 for 25 cts., In money or postage stamps, by : _ FRANK TO POPU Ta te ~ ea; ms, = (168 West 28d. St, Mew a a i. - inated. This book explains them all, giving | should obtain this book, as