Five Cent Wide Awake Library (vol. 2) (1895 10 11)

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HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. But there was no sign of Emmerson, Had the ig erg murderer escaped after all? “TI thought that cuss had never beon born to be drowned,” he said to himself, “I’ll never believe that eld saying again.” ; He turned to retrace his steps, and before he had gone far he met the two policemen coming toward him. “Got him?” asked one. * “No,” . +] ‘He has got clear off?’ “Yes.” «4 “Hang him!” ‘No fear of that,” retorted the Kentuckian, grimly. “You'll never hang Robert Emmerson.” . “Why not?” ‘ “Because he’s drowned.” “Drowned!” “*Yes,” They hurried back ¢o the brink of the water and looked about, but not a vestige—not a eign—was there of the notorious criminal. “That’s the end of Protean Bob,” said one of the con- stables, ‘‘He didn’t know, I suppose, that there was no thoroughfare here; but at any rate, there would be small chance of escape. As it is, withthe present high tides, the best swimmer that ever lived would be done for ’ there.” * * * * * * * They little knew Robert Emmerson, however, or they would have paused before coming to the conclusion that he was drowned, for in a short time a man might have been seen fighting his way from the dark waters; and, on reaching the shore, kneeling down and clenching his - hands tightly, he exclaimed through his hard-set teeth: “Saul Garcia, you haye betrayed me. I swareI would have your life for it, and by Heaven I will!” . ni CHAPTER VY. a THE gang now claims a passing mention at our hands. So well was Oliver Girdwood’s plan carried out that iot a sound was heard in the haunt of the Bowery gang, ind yet their celler was slowly but surely filling with deathly vapors, which must put a speedy end to their villanous career, When the first faint streaks of the morning light strug- gled through the grating of their celler, and played across Toro’s eyes, he aroused himself with considerable difficulty, His first sensations were of a painful burning about the eyes, a swelling of the tongue and throat, He could hardly see. He coughed and shook himself, and rubbed his eyes. “Something wrong here,” said the giant to himself. Do what be would, he could not shake off the unpleasant sensations. . By degrees it began to alarm him, and then he awakened Hunston. ‘The latter now experienced just the same sensation as Toro had on awakening. J ‘ Smarting of the eyes, swelling of the tongue and throat, and difficulty of articulating. . What could it be? It fairly puzzled them, \ 1 “There is only one way of accounting for it,” said Hunston. , : 4 “What is that?” “We have been stived up here so long that the air has - got foul,” : 4 “J suppose it is that,” said Toro, “But the remedy?” ‘That is more difficult to discover than the cause.” _ “Something must be done,” said the giant, - “Of course.” “And speedily.” ’ “Just my epinion. But what?” ‘Toro scratched his shaggy locks for an idea. . “Wehad better wake them all’ up and consult with em about it.” ; “Very well.” | They set to work to arouse their sleeping comrades,and \s they woke up one by one, it was remarked that they ll appeared to suffer in some degree fromthe same ' ymptoms as Hunston and Toro, Some more, some less, : - ‘It was observed, too, that one man, who slept witha nandkerchief over his face, had been scarcely incon- yenienced by it. The reason of if was apparent enough. i The sleeper breathed through his handkerchief, which acted as a species of respirator for him. 4 Now this man was naturally in a better position tha his comrades to judge of the nature of the complaint _ which troubled them all, J can ‘smell sulphur very strong,” he said, with a ‘Sulphur ejaculated the gang, in a breath. “Yes, - “Tmpossible,” ‘Or charcoal.” : _ “But how? Where can it come from?” said Toro, * “That I can’t say; but still I have a notion.” ¢ eee is it?” eos “What if they were trying to funk us out?” “Funk us out?” - “Yes. ‘ “What do you mean?” “ S 3 6 WW’ 99 ve 22) rear peat I mean.” po ; Tt was a shrewd gnees, it was 60 very likel; * that it made Hunston gabe eee if It would almost seem like it,” he said, ‘yet I don’t _ see where it could come from.” Nor I ert eR > - “The door.” f ; ‘ - ““No—the grating.” “Tmpossible!””, a “Why?” | “The gra : g is always clearendugh.” ; ‘this discussion was going forward, the sun 5 Ath ‘gs Se : | friend Jack seemed at all times pleased came out and shot a powerful ray into the cellar, along which they could see the noxious vapors playing, curling and dancing in their struggles to get to the air. One of the gang was a mysterious German in specta- cles. He pointed to the fumes wriggling their tortuous course along the sunbeam. ' “Zee dere,” he cried. “T do,” “Ve shall be chokit'” said the German, in the most cheerful manner, as though he were announcing a bit of the best luck imaginable, “Ohoked!” “Ja wohl,” he said, nodding. “But how do you propose getting over the trouble?” The German thought for awhile, and then replied: ~ “Make a hole, und greeb out.” “Where?” asked Hunston, eagerly; ‘‘in the wall?” “Nein.” “Tn the floor?”’ “Nein.” ‘“*Where then?” In der zeiling.” “Why there?’ j “Because dey haf exantine der haus, und dey haf dis- gover dat dere is no door—no gommunigation, and dey not on der watch dere.” “You're right, Fritz, you’re right.” ejaculated Hun- ston, ‘Fritz is the man to save us.” The work had to be proceeded with briskly. And this is the way they set about it. Herr Fritz Yon Koppenhaagen was hoisted on 'Toro’s shoulders, where, armed with different pointed instru- ‘ments, he proceeded to loosen the plaster and masonry, In this way they escaped their present dilemma—but only just in time. The great difficulty was that the nearer the roof, the denser the fumesof sulphur, and Von Koppenhaagen had some trouble to keep at his work. *However, he was relieved presently, and the work was accomplished in this way—that is by turn and turn about, ' “Tam zo glad that I can tell,” said Fritz, “to zee der hole is droo, Und now I will go droo der hole. Dat ist zer goot; it make mie larfs.” The French have a saying about beleaguered towns which proved to be very true during the war: “Ville assiegee—ville prise,” ‘‘A town besieged is a taken town.” / The inventors of that proverb were shrewd observers, Itis invariably the case, Nor was this any exception to the rule, only, thanks to the sagacity of Herr Fritz You. Koppenhaagen, the be- | sieged managed to sneak off and leave their fortress in the hands of the enemy. \ And so it came to pass that, when three days were gone by, the besiegers resolved to effect a breach and push into the fortress. The garrison, they concluded, would be very harmless now, thanks to Oliver Girdwood’s fumigators. The utter silence of the place convinced them that the sulphur fumes had reduced the gang to an utter state of helplessness, and that they would be discovered as dry as a fly in a spider’s web. Great was their humiliation, therefore, when they came down the cellar with endless precautions to guard against rise, and found that the birds had flown, ey examined the house above, but found it was ut- terly deserted now, ; Upon making iuquiries, they learnt from the police authorities that the owner of the house was a suspicious customer, whose movements had long brought him un- der the eye of the excise people, ? He was reported tohave made money during the war in blockade running, and now that that was over, he ap- peared to turn his hand to anything which might termed a kindred trade. r Some people said he smuggled. Others said, with more apparent reason, that he earned J a risky livelihood by serving the rebel Cubaas, This was exceedingly risky, as many poor fellows haye since found ont. This rumor caught the attention of Daniel Pike, and he pushed his inquiries further in that direction. And, after some days, they discovered that Captain Glemmans had just embarked, having got his crew com- pleted. i The Spanish consul had ascertained beyond doubt that the *Will’o-the-Wisp” was engaged in a desperate ven- ture—the transport of arms to the Cuban insurgents— and he set to.work to take the necessary steps te prevent the vessel from starting, . i The Harkaways were yery much interested in this, for Pike and Nabley had been actively engaged in raking up evidence themselves, and with this notable result. They had, beyond all manner of doubt, traced some so og of the Bowery gang on board the “‘Will-’o-the- isp. \ This settled, they had to obtain a search warrant. Every possible facility was granted them in this matter. But certain formalities had to be gone through. In the meantime certain events had occurred which must come in their propér order, These must be given in another chapfer. CHAPTER VI, THEY could not get over Mr, Mole’s betrothal, The Harkaways made sure that if had been brought about by young Jack, R Little Emily, Harvey and Hilda’s daughter, had now quite recovered from her long illness, and once more be- came the playmate of young Jack. She was indeed a most beantiful-girl, and our og. to be in her charming company. - fi Little Emily believed that young Jack was'the calise | of Chloe ite We) Mr. Mole for her husband. . Bir ee ack protested stoutly that he knew nothing pabout 26) op eit) jee Soe hierar, me = ——— Nor, in point of fact, did he, “After all, Em’,” said he glyly, ‘what's Black or white have hearts alike,” * “Of course they have,” “And Chioe is a very good and kind girl.” “That she is,” replied little Emily, with warmth, +‘And if she loves Mr, Mole, I am very glad that she is going to have him. And I’m glad for him, too, I don’t ike to see people sighing and dying for each other, and not able to marry because one happens to be a dip er two darker than the other,” *The sentiment caught little Emily on her soft side. “But do you think you would like a black wife, Jack dear?” she asked, archly. ¥ “Not I,” replied her youthful champion; “but Id marry her if I were a man, and she loved me.” “Would you, indeed, sir?” said Emily, with o toss of her flaxen curls. “OF course,” “Phen you had better go and look for your black sweetheart,” said she, flouncing out of the room. But young Jack caught her before she could get fairly away, and gave her a kiss that you might have heard in the next room. . “Well, I’m sure,” said the little lady, reddening, you’re very impudent, Master Jack.” **You don’t think so,” said young Jack, saneily. “Indeed I do.” “Then give it me back,” And then there ensued a chase, and young Jack let himself be caught after a very little dodging, and held up his cheek to be punished, She lifted her little hand, /but dropped it again as he stood his ground firmly, and did not flinch. “What!” exclaimed young Jack, ‘tyou won’t, Bsn’?” “Not this time,” = “Then give me back mine,” **Yonr what?” asked the young lady, demurely. She learned the art of coquetry at a very early age, you see, “My smack,” explained young Jack, grinning. “Don’t be silly, sir,” replied Emily, who could not pre- tend to misunderstand any longer. “Very well,” said young Jack, “I know why you won't.” “Why?” “Oh! you know.” “Tm sure 1 do not.” “‘Noll Girdwood wouldn’t have to ask you twice.” Emily colored up at this insinuation. , “There, there, cried the mischievous boy, “you*e pblushing—that tells.” “Tm sure I’m not,’’ retorted little Emily. i But as she spoke, the color on her fair cheeks deepened to a rich purple, : “T knew you cared a deal more for Noll than you do for me,” said young Jack, in that tone of voice which is called ‘half joke, whole earnest.” ‘Well, I don’t mind it you really like poor Noll best; but dom’tyou flirt witk. him, and then give him turnips.’”’ “That's very vulgar,” retorted the little beauty, ‘anc it isn’t true.” “Oh, isn’t it?” “No.” ‘Why, you used to be ever so fond of me.” “Well, what then?” : “Why, you’re not now.” “Who says 80?” f ay do.” “You're a wicked, ungrateful boy.” __ ‘I don’t believe you would have cared much if Huns- ton and Toro had done forme, I don’t believe you'd have shed a tear after me,” “Oh, Jack!” This was top much for her, and she burst into tears, ‘Then young Jack was melted too, and he hastened to dry her eyes with his pocket-handkerchief, and what re- mained of them he kissed away as tenderly as you lease, i But she sobbed away in great distress. “You say I don’t care for you,” she said; ‘“‘but you don’t care for me, of course.” “Indeed I do.” . “You don’t,” “ He protested stoutly, but she would not allow if. “You wouldn’t try fo distress your friends se, if yor did really care for them,” she said, Pi “I was not to know that they cared enough for me,” urged young Jack, ‘ { “But some of them must caro for you, and if you eared for them you would never go running into all the odds? kinds of danger for no purpose but tomake us al un- - happy.” ‘Oh, indeed!” 2 “No, sir,” she added, with flashing eyes, and chang. ing her tone, ‘but I don’t admire it, 1 don’t think it brave after all. You have no need to run after danger in that way, just to show that you are courageous,” “Ts that what I do?” said young Jack, humbly; ‘well, I won't doit any more.” “You promise?” “TI do,” $ “There's a dear, good Jack,” she said, clapping her hands with glee. ‘But you’ forget unless 1 something to remind you.” ¢ “No, I won't,” c you will, Now what shall I give you, Let mc. “Oh, #60,” ‘ “One of your curls.” % . “Oh, no; youd throw that away soon, I know. Here's & box of chocolates I have just bought, Now, whenever you feel inclined to do anything teo harumscarum, look at this, and remember your promise.” » will.” And then he sought fora giftforher, He had nothing at that pei bh pati his little ‘necktie; this he took off his neck and. gave her, and sbe kept it fer many along year asaloye gift. 8 Her gift to Jack was, however, destined to prove & very valuable one indeed to him. And that ere long. mpi apa we give you j @

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HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. CHAPTER VII. Mx, Monr’s wedding was the one topic of conversa- tion among our friends, the Harkaways and party. As soon as it was settled, Dick Harvey was full of his mischief. s ee Nothing would do, but he must organine visits of con- gratulation on rather an elaborate scale, These visits were to be carried out with a deal of cere- mony. warvey himself led the way in these congratulatory visits. Young Jack was with him on that auspicious occasion. You can guess how they enjoyed themselves, “Mr, Mole,” said Harvey, with the greatest gravity, “accept my warmest congratulations.” Mr. Mole winced. “Yes, thank you, Harvey,” he said, “Iam much bet- ter. “Of course you are,” **No pain now.” Pain!” exclaimed Harvey, with an extravagant sigh and a leer of great significance, “young fellows in your condition are insensible t. pain.” ; “In my condition?” said Mole, glancing at his wooden eg. "Yes." “What condition?” “Betrothed.” “Teh!” s “Under sentence of matrimony,” sighed Harvey. ‘‘Ah, sir, yon’re a lucky dog,” Harvey,” said Mr, ‘Mole, “T can’t stand it, I’m not used to it—that is, not used to it of late.” “Of course not,” replied the irrepressible Dick; ‘‘but as it makes your third wife—” Mole groaned. “Your third black wife, 1 may say—” “Harvey.” “Sir,” ‘ “Unless you wish to turn my stomach, you will make m0 allusion whatever to the past.” “Tf you wish it, sir.” “T do.” “Very good, then,” : “The present is quite painful enough,” “The present!” said Harvey, with a stupid, solid look, “Who has made you a present?” “Yat, tut, tut!’ quoth Mr, Mole, impatiently. “You're asad tease, Harvey. I mean the present time.” Harvey pretended to look serious, é “J hope that your approaching nuptials do not cause you any anxiety.” Mr. Mole groaned, “Of course a man in your position feels anxious,” pur- ued Dick Harvey, pitilessly, ‘“‘but it exalts you in our estimation, Mr. Mole,” Here were crumbs of comfort for the tutor. He grabbed at them eagerly enough, too. ‘How??? “We recognize in it your strength of mind, Mr. Mole. We see how superior you are to vulgar prejudice. You baths “ihe weak-minded prejudice in favor of fair faces.” “Oh!” “Or flaxen hair,” “Oh, Harvey, but I have!” “Or bhie eyes.” , “Don’t, Harvey, don't!” groaned the unhappy tutor. **You care little abont the skin of your innamorata boing a dip more or less inky.” ‘‘Hurvey!” almost shrieked the tutor, “stop!” “Ah,” said Dick, looking up at the ceiling in rapt ad- tuiration of Mr. Mole, ‘that’s where we recognize the strong-minded, large-hearted Isaac Mole, “Yes, Mr. Mole, when we consider that you are about taking to your heart and home your third wife, and she, like your two first, beantiful and black, we must, in jus-— tice to you, my dear sir, say you. are a man of un- doubted courage.” And, apparently too much overcome for more words, he wrung Mr. Mole earnestly by the hand. P Mr. Mole could scarcely reply, but he made a very wry ace, *Tho ee future Mrs, Mole is quite well, sir,” said “Who? \ ae future Mrs! Mole.” “Tt is scarcely customary to speak in those te: bet aia Harvey, is e Gay ‘Oh, I’m very sorry,” said young Jack, looking con- res baie cover his lalightar: “ey thought was rder, , “You mean the bride,” » “The fair bride?” y f Mr, Mole could not repress a groan, gi eee aN passa ‘or the unseemly fun of ae tutor,” 2 a g any le,” said Harvey, with a grieved ex- ceedingly sorry to.find that you should He touched his eyes with his han. Mr. Mole was m sited. ‘ sesh as cone come, Harvey,” he said, “I ng, only you were always such a devil in you: fun.” “Ail right, sir,” said Harvey, winkin aera "behind his handkerchief, ay & Af young Jack But don’t congratulate me any more about the future don’t mean any- r3.— hy’ ‘ 1, ey er is the lady’s present Tame, then,” asked Har. “QOhloe.” 6 I could never presume to speak of her as eee, > looking ‘What?” said young Jac shocked. “tmture Mrs. Mole—” . a en “I don’t know her other name.” | “What an odd thing,” : “The = : Sunday changed his time, tune, and manner at once, and strutted up and down in his dusting, to the imposing strains of Mendelssobn’s ‘Wedding Ma-:ch,” ‘This was too much for Mr, Mole. - With a violent expletive, he threw the first thing to hand at Sunday, who caught it dexterously and tossed it back a la cricketer, crying—“Play!” Mr. Mole found it anything but play, for ‘the book he threw at Sunday, being rather heavy, and on its return passage catching Mr, Mole on the side of the head, made him feel at that moment as thongh he should like to ex- terminate every nigger in the world, “Well, Mr. Mole,” said Harvey, as he left the apexes oi: again, you will inform ment, “I trust, when I see me when the happy day will be fixed ior your marriage,” your remarks to yourself, you OHAPTER VIII. Saunt Ganrcra slept badly on the night that Emmerson lea) into the river and escaped from the American and English detectives. s ; . He was full of nervous fancies, and when he dozed off, it was to dream horribly. He got up twice and went downstairs to look at the faste: of the house, wie Then he went up again to his room, and endeayored to compose himeelf for sleep. * He tossed about upon his pillow; he, groaned and moaned, and woke up with a start of terror, ‘How awful!” he murmured to himself; “how awful!” He was not altogether a superstitious man, but yet/his dreams had impressed him to an alarming extent, Thrice had he dreamed the same thing, Thrice had an awful dream-drama been enacted be- fore him—a drama in which there were only two actors, One was himself. ‘The other was his sometime patron, Robert Emmer- son. 1 = He had gone to bed full of thoughts’ of Protean Bob and of his threats, $ The reccollection of having taken blood money from the detectives was ever before him, and although he did not repent him of it any more than he did of his many means of adding to his ill-gotten gains; he lived in con- tinual terror lest Emmerson should foil his pursuers, | and by some means hear of his (Garcia’s) treachery. _ Three times, as the old Jew slept that night, Emmer- Son the murderer rose up before him, : i scteae time, to the Jews fancy, so plain, so vivid, Co > / wal GS He had a peculiar look about him that the Jew conld not understand, His head and clothes were drenched and dri, with water, like one who has narrowly escaped from a we- tery graye. His face was white and pallid, his lips blue, and his eyes flashed with fierce menace, And this horrible figure in each successive vision, glided on to the Jew, who seemed to know intuitively that his own doom was sealed, And yet he could not move. Could not lift hand or foot to help himself. » He tried to shake of the horrible nightmare and ory for help. \ But in vain. Again and again the dreadful vision returned to th ew, I : At length, when he had seen to the downstairs fasten- ings for a second time, he grew quieter and calmer, and he returned to his bed to rest, “My supper has disagreed with me,” he said to him- self, ‘or why should ihe shadowy f of Emmerson haunt me so to-night?” } And mumbling to himself, he turned on his side and slept again, z * ** * * . * * All is quiet, Yet hark! There was a faint, creaking noise on the stairs, The door was softly tried. j At first it resisted. : But a patient hand was there to force it, and with a warning creak it opened slowly. A And then there appeared a strange, dark figure in the loorway. Aman ot ghastly mien, with pallid cheeks and damp, matted hair; with clothes which clung to his form as though they had been saturated with water. The figure paused. Then the eyes rested upon the sleeping form of the old Jew, and the dark figure smiled in a peculiar way. ine oe mine,” said this spectral-looking visitor—‘tyes, Ine.” ‘The Jew slightly moved, mumbled something indis- tinctly ip his sl and then he repeated the ans and the dcries which he had goue through before in each successive phase of this hideous nightmare, “Mercy, mercy!” “He must be thinking of me,” said the figure, crouch: ing by the Jew’s bedside. “Hell think*more of me be > fore I’ve done with him, the treacherous hound.” He took off his coat, Then he turned ve his wristbands with great deliber ation, and advanced to the side of the bed, The Jew slept’ like a cat, 2 The faint creaking of the visitor’s boots aroused him, and he opened his eyes, His glance fell on the visitor at once, The effect was electrical, The Jew’s eyes dilated, and his jaw dropped with ter- ror indescribable. Death seemed before him, ; His fate was there, F Yes, the chief actor in that horrible dream-drama whic had so disturbed his rest—the hideous nightmare whic was so fearfully realistic, was near him, Here he was in the flesh, “Emmerson!” The sound came softly from the parched lips of the Jew. The nodded. ,; “What do you want here, Emmerson?” faintly came perrike d ae mmerson 8 00) sternly, but spoke not, “So late,” faltered Garcia; ‘so Mary ate.” Emmerson seemed to glide toward him, — Pha know what I’ve come for, Saul,” he said pres. ently. : “No, indeed, my dear Emmerson,” ye. “Oh, yes, you do; I made youa promise once; I’ve come to redeem it.” , “Ugh? : ‘ An involuntary shudder escaped the Jew. “T told you, Saul Garcia,” said Emmerson, with f deliberation, ‘‘I warned you that if you played fast u loose with me, you—” “Never!” “You haye.” coon bsriotee roof positive of ; treachery. “You have “have pi your ¢ a So, Saul Garcia, I have come to fulfill my part of the contract,” 7 é “What do you mean?” . “Murder,” “Oh, no, no, no!” “T do; I am here for purpose,” “You are mi ‘Heaven is my witness!” erson; you are, I swear, a “Don’t forswear yourself at such a time,” said Enx merson, : fone) “TI don’t, E don’t!” said the Jew, eagerly. ‘Let that be the proof; I would not forswear myself if there was any danger.” x : You are getting prudent, Saul,”.said Emmerson, with — the Jew. alaugh. “But you haye betrayed me, you miserable old fool, and now your end is near.” ‘ee te “No, no,” cried the Jew, “roy end cannot—shall not be near.” ? “Tt is,” *. “Mercy!” ; “I want to feel your throat in my fingers—to feel the life slowly going out of you as my grip tightens. ) “Hal? med the Jew, starting up in his bed. : “What now?” He glanced around him, fearing inter-. tion oe er Garcia; “I know now, — The same words as I heard beforeinmydream. Oh, — shall Inever wake—can I never shake of this horrible nightmare?” # FSA ify Emmerson laughed sardoniealty at this, = ¢ ¢ Ait Oe a ny waa | ey,

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6 “771 shake off the nightmare for you,” he said; “I'll énd you out of the land of dreams altogether.” And he rolled up his shirt sleeves above his elbows. “Help!” cried Garcia, wildly, as he sat up; ‘‘help,mur- der! Oh, Emmerson, do not kill me; spareme,spare me, good Emmerson.” 3 He made two strides forward and seized the Jew by the throat. He fought and struggled, but oh, so feebly! He was an old man, and at t he conld have made but 2 very poor resistance to the enemy. As it was, the fear deprived him of such little strength as he possessed, . The dreams of that dread night had paralysed him for the time being. It was a poor look-out for him if he had to count upon his own efforts now for his salvation. Unfortunately for himeelf he had. But it was not to be yery soon over. Emmerson was a master in refined torture; a staunch hater, too, and he had resolved to feast himself to satiety with vengeance. ‘ So he daljlied with his victim, And he watchtd with keen enjoyment the wretched old man’s deadly fear, and every phase in this black deed was inyes with a triple charm to the rufflan. ‘Now, Saul Garcia,” said he, ‘‘you have sold me to the detectives, have you? Now, my friend, you have not ten minutes to live.” The horrible deliberation with which he spoke those words produced the full effect that was - The old Jew seemed to gain strength suddenly, how- > pe and then there occurred a desperate fight between ern. With a jerk and an effort which for him apveared something more than human, he freed himself from his snemy’s grip. + Then he bounded off to the other side of the bed. Emmerson crawled after him, seized him by his scant gray hair, and tugged a handful out, : With a muttere precation, the assassin grabbed again at his victim, and once more securing a hold upon his scraggy throat, he dragged himself over the bed to him, Saul Garcia fought madly with his open hands in self- defense, and his assailant’s skin suffered in consequence, His long, snake-like fingers were tipped with nails, that eut into the assassin’s flesh, and red Jong channels of scratches, which were of too serious a nature to be easily effaced. They remained there as evidences of. his crime for many a long day. And the sma of these wounds frustrated in some meéasure the murderer’s purpose, for it goaded him to, greater fury, and he fought the wretched old man with all his brutal strongth. 7 hare old Jew battled as only one can that fights for dear 2. ( ‘ The assassin’s face was red with blood, The victim's was white with the pangs of death. * * in the livid look of his face did not stay Emmerson’s and, ‘ ‘ He relaxed his hold for a moment, itis true, but not because his pity was excited for his victim, No, far from that, 3 His own words told his feelings npon the matter more eloquently than words of otirs can describe em. ‘ “I’m over hasty with him,” he said to himself, “like the fool that Iam. He mustn't go off as easily as that. Saul!” ? cite rc No answer, . The wretched old man was apparently past speech, “Saul, Sani!’ , : 6 Wy He shook him, but not a sound escaped his victim, * His work was done but too effectually. “Hasty fool that I am,” muttered he. ‘I havo foiled myself; bat now I must look after his dollars, dnd make sure of all that I can.” ' that the murdered man, was rich, and He rummaged about the room for the miser’s hoard, ‘From time to time he glanced up at the bed to see how the victim fared, ~ But Saul Garcia never moved hand nor foot, never quivered. haha eyelid. '- His search was in'some measure productive; but it did not come up to his expectations, for he a sas shrewdly @ hoped to light npon the hoard. ; But this was no easy task, Every now and again he paused in his search to glance at the bed, but all wus still there. ; '“'T was a fool to be so hasty,” he said to himself; “T - onght to have frightened him into telling me where it was hidden, It would have been rare sport to make him know that I was abont to inherit all his hard earnings before I had killed him,” He paused, “What was that?” _ A serious expression of alarm shot across his counte- ance, “It sounded like something moving downstairs.” ‘He was right. 4 _ Phere certainly was a noise below, just as though the street door was being tried. He listened at the door for a moment to assure himself that his stspicions were well founded, “T was right; someone is at the street door,” he mur- mured, looking very stolid. i _ \He did not get flustered at all, but put on his coat with * Som phe we stepped downstairs, a Ont im. 5 a __ _ He paused a moment to consider what he should do—a , and, with a glance about the room, he ing the passage with a hasty Syet not flurried step, __ he was not a little startled to hear a key in the street door HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. Emmerson Ba) bsp up behind the door as it opened. and then he st motionless as a statue. Two men passed hurriedly in. “Pi stay here,” said a voice that sounded familiar to Emmerson. © “Tt is scarcely necessary,” returned another voice, which he knew as well; “there is small chance of his being here.” “Indeed, I look upon it as a certainty.” Emmerson felt alittle bit anxious now, as you may suppose. “Pil wait here,” said the positive speaker, who was 10 other than the sturdy Kentuckian, Mr. Jefferson, Emmerson shrank as it were into a nutshell. The door opened wide and hid him fairly from view, and the two passed upstairs. Emmerson paused awhile to consider, His decision, however, was quickly made, He turned up the collar of his coat, stepped half way up thepassage, and then said, in tones sufficiently loud to be heard outside— “all right, Pll tell Mr, Jefferson.” Then he stepped out, “Ym off for more police,” he said hurriedly, ‘‘They want you up stairs, ‘There is something amiss there.” It was the work of a second. Before Jefferson had time to think even, the murderer passed by and disappeared in the night, v ee CHAPTER TX, “Wo could that be?” . He little thought that the flitting figure was the object of their search, He was taken thoroughly by surprise, and Emmerson was gone before he made the reflection to himself just recorded. Then, in obedience to the wish supposed to come from there the Kentuckian stepped up stairs, He gained the top justin time to follow his two com- rades into the old Jew’s room. “Here Lam,” said Jefferson, ‘*What do you want?” “You here, sir?” said one of the officers in surprise, “Of course.” “But you said—” “That I would stay on guard down stairs, know,” ‘‘What have you come up, then, for, sir, | An exclamation of-impatience eseaped Mr, Jefferson, ““PDidn’t you send for me?” “No.” **No?” ; ‘How could we? Here we are, both of us.” “But that man you sent down to me?” “Man—sent!”’ iterated the puzzled officers. “By Heaven!” thundered the Kentuckian, “you will drive memad, Did you, or did you not, send a man down stairs to me, to ask me to come up?” “No,” “You did not? Then who could he have been?” “Who?—perhaps the man we haye come to trap—Bob Emmerson himself?” “Confound him!” cried Mr. Jefferson. ‘Then he has fooled me by his readiness after all.” He stepped back toward the stairs with the intention of followiug him, “You may as well give it up as a bad job to-night,” said one of the officers. ‘‘Emerson will never be trapped to-night. He runs like a deer, and half as much pet that would serve to get him clear off.” Just then alow, hollow groan reached them. Thay started. * 4 ee t was that?” The sound was repeated, # ‘Now it was distinctly from the bed, and Mr.J efferson drew back fhe sheet which the assassin, in his flight, had Yes, I | thrown hastily over his victim. He had left Sault Garcia for dead, stirely enough. But the wretched old man was hard to kill, ~ Dead to all appearance he had been for some time, but: the cruel usage he had received had produced exhaus- tion, and a species of trance only, nis Still it was not possible that that withered old frame could survive such a shock. ' The marks of violence were too apparent to render any explanation necessary. He opened his eyes and stared at them, ‘Twice or thrice he essayed to speak, but ho was some considerable time in getting his breath again. “Have you got him?” at last he asked, eagerly, ‘¢Who??? “The murderer.” “Who is that?” . “Emmerson,” wtNo,” Ugh!” growled the old man, “you were too late, He will dodge you all yet and escape.” — “No, he won't,” said the Kentuckian, bluntly; “not if Thave to spend my life in catching him and bringing him to justice.” : The old man’s eyes glistened at this. “Do you say 80?" he exclaimed; “that’s brave.” He fought again for breath for some moments, and ot 14 beckoued them all to draw nearer to-him about ie bed. ; “On that shelf,” he said, ‘you'll find some whisky in a bottle; give me some; it willgive me strength to last out what I have to say, and then I can die in peace.” They obeyed. : ¥ And as the spirit trickled down his poor, maimed old throat, he appeared to revive somewhat, rath The deadly pallor faded momentarily from his cheeks, and his eyes brightened. _~ tha “Now hearken all,” he said. ‘I have no time to make’ a will, but I leave all my property to you.” —__ He pointed his finger at Mr, Jefferson as he said this. All to you.” : ane Peas og: Ra. ARS ecg Peer ay Ca iivagin te pCi as Aer fer erates i | merson—this murderer down. eee forget your brave conduct on that dreadful ing to steady the ladder for you to descend, one of t hooks caught in my boot, L I was obliged to cut the now I keep it in remembrance of your ¢ with emotion, “and the feeling does youjhonor. yp it then, and in years to come, long after your p; ts are. in their graves, that simple memorial will recall the night when you hazarded your own life to saye them from ® eruel and terrible fate.” ! f mn Lg. Having said this, he kissed Jack’s rosy cheeks, and then, having a tie cat he was writing, he took is aI BEE “Why, what fort” “In trust,” “For whom?” Myself.” They exchanged looks at this, His mind must be wandering, they all thonght. But they were wrong. “You will spend it to the last cent in hunting this Ens I am rich,” ho added, “rich! richer than’‘they dream of. Spend it all, spend it like water; there’s plenty to do that! Offer rewar big that his best and truest pals will sell him. See ere. He struggled for something under his pillow, and after much difficulty he produced a small brass-handled key. “Take this,” ho said, speaking with greater difficulty than ever now. ‘It is the key of the iron safe; you will find an iron ring under the mat in the shop, ft up the trap. The iron box is there. Take all, all the house holds, use it allas I say; and until you lay him by the heels, ’ll haunt you. D’ye hear?” And he fixed his glassy eyes on the giant American, He sank back, ; They thought he was dead. But he opened his eyes, and fixing his glance once rare on Mr. Jefferson, he made one last effort to articu- late, It was one solitary word that he uttered, and was only just audible, i } “Remember!” And so he died with thoughts of vengeance on his mind and vows of vengeance upon his lips. His eyes, fixed in death, rested 1poh Jefferson, ag if to give more force to his dying injunction, * - * * * They were not to say squeamish; They were indeed all used to scenes of violence, but it made them shudder to witness such a deathbed. They closed his eyes, and once more threw the sheet gently over him. ; And then they left, but Jefferson fancied he could still hear tbe old Jew’s voice repeat that single word: ‘“‘Remember)”? , CHAPTER X. THR STRING AND THE HOOK.) “Nov quite so much noise there, if you please.” ; These words were addressed by Mr. Harkaway to hie son Jack, who was playing with Nero at one end of the room, while he sat writing at the other. “alt right, dad,” cried Jack; ‘*we’ll be quiet,” But the noise still continued, . ( The monkey had purloined some of his young master’s property, which he refused to give up. And he was now scampering about the apartment. Ad Springing from chair to chair in the liveliest possible manner, young Jack, with a switch in his hand, was pursuing him. “It's this great thief, Nero, dad,” returned young Jack; “he’s been cabbaging my string and won’t give it up.” The monkey had perched himself on the top of a cabi- net in the room. . “Tl soon put a stop to that,” said Mr. Harkaway. As he Ke he picked up a pair of slippers and launched them at the monkey’s head, yin They were not hard enough to hurt, but just sufficient to dislodge Master Nero from his perch, - 4 Down he came with a bang to the ground. — “Now V’ve got you,” cried young Jack, as he sprang ~ upon him, t ) Harkaway, then, as the shortest hae ws keeping Nere quiet, shut him up, for the present, in the cupboard, Young Jack, in the meantime, was carefully winding the stving upon a small piece of stick. At the end of the string was a moderate-sized hook. “What's that?” asked Mr. Harkaway of his son, with a smile glimmering on his features. “It means mischief, T think, doesn’t it?” ; He remembered his own boyish peculiarities, and fan- cied the hook looked a little suspicious. “Oh, no, dad,” answered Jack. yi he 4 , “Are you quite sure—quite sure that that hook is not intended for some respectable gentleman’s hat, or un- _ suspecting old lady’s bonnet?” ‘ Le’ “Quite, dad, and I don’t think you’d ever guess what this is from,” } are . My “Indeed!” AR SAS acto! A “NG? 2 ; ¢ “Suppose you tell me, then.”” - } “It's a memorial,” ; “4 memorial!” echoed his father, with a smile. bee ‘i : There was a slight pause. Then Jack said: 4 hat “You remember the night of the fire, dad?” Mr. Harkaway was seriqus ina moment. ~ byes “Do I remember it! Shall I ever forget it?" he mur- mured, fervently. { A ye “T never shall,” said onryoung hero, ue, “No, my brave boy,” warmly returned his father. “f _ 5 tog” Phot “Well, on that night,” continued Jack, “as I was help- and fixed itself so firmly that hook away from the rope, and » “I understand you my dear child,” returned hisparene | pie - vi os Pe } as

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HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. a nuusual thing for him—for some little time after his parent’s departure. At last Jack started up, saying: ‘ ‘Dad’s gone out; I don’t see why I should not go too.” The monkey, who was imprisoned in the cupboard, seemgu to be of the same way of thinking, for he rattled the door and chirped vociferously. “ah! there’s Nero wants to come, thought Jack; “I mustn’t leave him behind So he went to the cupboard, and said: “a suppose you're sorry for what you’ye done, ain't you? The monkey gave a penitent chirp, “Very sorry, eh?” “Chirp, chirp.” Jack turned the key and opened the door, , Out sprang Nero, and immediately evinced his contri- tion by tumbling head over heels and walking round the room on his hands, ee “That'll do,” said his young master; ‘you can drop that hanky panky now and be quiet.” Nero appeared to understand and squatted down quiet- ly on the hearthrug, where he became absorbed in hunt- in eg fleas. As rang the bell, Monday answered it, “Are you particularly busy to-day?” “Well, not particular, Masea Jack,” answered Monday; “um got few little odd jobs, that’s all,” “And how long will it take youto do these ‘little odd jobs?’ ” . “Something like about half an hour. Why you ask?” “Well, I was thinking of going out fora good long ramble, and if you had done your work, I should take you with me,’’ replied our hero, condescendingly. _. “Take this child wid you, Massa Jack! Golly, him cut along with de jobs like bigs pet And away hé hurried in a state of great exhilaration. The Limbian, in the pride of his heart, went straight to where his comrade, Sunday, was busily engaged in polishing a pair of boots, “What you tink, old San?” he said, his ebony counte- nance glistening with satisfaction, “What?” “Dis child have jess received a very kind invitation,” “Where from?” , “Massa Jack Harkaway.” “To go where?” “Out along with him for a big spree.” Sunday dropped the boot he was pouting. i ‘‘Masea Jack might have asked dis child to go as well,” “what he want you out with him for, um like to know? Massa Jaek only like de society of gentlemans,” Mon- day replied, ashe stuck out bis chest and, cocked his nosein the air conceitedly. i “You mean to say dis child not gentleman, den?” in- quired the African, in an aggravates tone. “Um mean to say,” returned the other, “you not got de polish of dis child.” This was too much for Sunday’s endurance, “Take that, you impudent nigger!” he shouted, as, snatching up the boot, he threw it at his comrade, who sere it cleverly in Kis hand, “fake it yourself, you black fellow!” cried Monday, as he threw it back. ; Sunday also caught it—on his nose, : “There now, you’vé got the polish as well as me, yah! yah!” grinned Monday, 4 . Tho African rushed after his comrade. The latter dodged himnimbly. ~ ’ ‘Phew! it’s no good running after you, you are too quick for me,” muttered Stunday, breathlessly, as he came to a standstill, and prepared 1o continue his labors, “What you length. ‘ “Him not in a passion,” Sunday answered. “Am you prepared to forget and forgive?” “Of course.” ; . “Shake hands, den.” “Dere’s mine,” said the African, magnanimously, as he extended his hand, een dere’s mine,” returned the Limbian, as he took “Now we friends ag’in.” 1 It may seem strange that Sunday should have so sud- denly forgiven his comrade, * . But he a plan of retribution in his head, which will presently appear, “Well, now, den, him get on wid him lilly jobs,” said Monday at he *‘cos Massa Jack is waiting.” see. about to turn away when his comrade called “I say, Mon,” he said Pie ay you say, Sun?? : “ you could drink lilly a: te i i sou got ths y drop ob rate ners asec if « Monday opened his eyes and licked his li ingly. “Tink him jess could,” he nepliad: } “am iF ype His comrade went through some, very expressive pan- sg and eventually pointed to a door at a short dis- It was where the coals wero kept. “Coal cellar rum place’ keep rum in, ain't it?” re- Sees oe + eee ; “Jess de proper ” replied his brother nigger, winking and putting his finger knowingly to the wine 0: his nose; “keep um safe, No one ’xpect find rum in de eoal cellar,” m ‘ v t : press a ” admitted Monday, wit a grin; “dat bery «’Whar'bouta de Bote?” asked baa ‘har’bouts de bottle: ed bis comrad. psseienie Sal chalet eae “You. um 8! Ing on 6) way on dé | side,” Sunday explained. b. ee i: 4 nF “sh Monday, licking his lips, eagerly opened the door, and) wen : » fe asca? No sooner did he disappear than the African stepped gue. after him, and listened chuckling to himself in- tensely, / { é Veg eye ; get in a passion for?” asked his comrade at confidentially. au | to-our readers, who know he is After a moment or two, Monday called out from the in- terior: “Um can’t find no rum.’? * Good reason why; dere none to find. Yah, yah, yah,” grinned Sunday in reply, as he turned the key in the lock. Monday heard the click. ; “What dat you do?” he asked, rather suspiciously. “Lock you in, dat’s all’? returned the African, with immense complacency. ‘Yah, yah, yah.” Monday sprang to the door. ! But he was too late, It was fast. 5 In vain he rayed and threatened and kicked at the oor. s His comrade only Janghed at: him, At this juncture a bell from. up stairs rang loudly. “Dere Mass Jack’s bell,” shouted Monday through the keyhole, : “Nebber mind de bell,” replied Sunday, consolingly, as he took his departure; ‘‘dis chile answer um. You hab partes wid de rats all by yourself among de coals, Yah, yah, yah.” “Where’s Monday?” asked Jack, as the African an- swered his summons, “Monday goue out, Massa Jack,” replied the latter, without turning white at the fib, “Gone out!” exclaimed our hero, insurprise. | | “Yes, Massa Jack. Him gone out hab big.spree.” “Um,” muttered our hero to himself, ‘the silly fellow must have misunderstood me, No matter, I suppose I shall find him waiting outside.” ““That’s all, Sunday,” he said aloud tothe African, “Want me to go wid you instead, Massa Jack?” urged the latter, modestly. “No, thank yon,” answered our hero, will be company foreach other,” _ Sunday made hisexit rather ruefully, He was disappointed, and his conscience pricked him into the bargain, i “Dat de punishment for not telling de truf,” he!mut- tered as he went down stairs, © “Come, old fellow,” cried Jack to the monkey, as the door closed, “we may as well be off,” ) Up sprang Nero in an instant to follow his master. The latter had reached the door, but suddenly he turned back, He had forgotten his hook and string. F “Y musn’t leave you! behind,” he exclaimed, as he took them from the table and put themin his pocket; “you may be useful to me some day. Wlio knows?” Who knows? Who does know, when he leaves his home, what may happen to him before he ieturus? 4 “Nero and I OHAPTER XI, NERO GETS INTO A SCRAPE, ANP JACK GETS HIM OUT OF IT. “Comm along, Nero; keep close to me, and mind how you behaye yourself,” y \ These words were addressed by our young hero to his dumb ar maim as he slepped from the door of the hotel into the street, ” Jack was in the most buoyant spirits. Rejoicing in the beautiful day, he strode along with heart as light as the sky above his head. Nero went hopping along by his young master’s sidein. ayery quiet and orderly manner for a monkey, only’ pausing occassionally to catch a tormenting flea, » : Jack kept a very wide awake look-out as he went along after Monday, whom he fully expected to find either Jounging against alamppost waiting for him, or strutting along some of the thoroughfares as he passed on. But no Monday came in sight, ‘This seemed strange to our hero, although it is vot so safely locked up in the coal hole of the hotel. Jack and his comrade went on for some distance, until they approached one of the quays, beyond which the bright waters of the Hudson appeared in sight, spark- ling in the sunshine, gain he looked out across the water. The more he looked, the more intense grew his desire to take a boat and tc ibe gliding along its bosom, “PI have a boat; here goes, And Nero shall eome with me; here, Nero, Nero! As he called, he turned to Jook for his companion. He was no longer in sight. : ‘ “The rascal, to give me the slip like this,” he mur- mured, fretfull: ; Tmust go and see after him,” But ere he could leave the spot on which he stood, loud shouts reached his ears, , And the next moment Nero came in sight, bounding over the ground in fine style, with some light-looking article in his ah pursued by the owner of the article, and followed by a yelling crowd. . ‘The monkey, hissing andchattering, came straight up to where Jack was standing, F The crowd followed. . “What haye you been up to now, eh, sir?” demanded his young master, as Nero reached him. The monkey, who, appeared yexed himself, grinned rather angrily, and held up the arti¢le he had secured, Tt was a mass of light flaxen lei, “Good gracious! what have you been/stealing now?” exclaimed Jack. “Give it to me directly,” But Nero was obstinate, and. refusdd to part with his treasure, : at “Give it me, I say,” repeated our hero. The monkey, instead of obeying, hopped away and put it on his own head instead. , =< Fae In spite of the yexation he felt, young Jack could scarcely refrain from. laughing at the comical appear- ance the animal presented, f gees: 5 = looked like a dtied-up specimen of some ancient | judge. % But before he had time to take any further steps, the |. crowd had reached him. =, _ 0 Foremost among the multitude was a very tall youn gentien ment, | an of the swell order, in a raving state of exoite- understand?” i ‘say, “Perfectly.” ig | giant, regretfully. He appeared certainly to haye been pretty wel mauled. ; His light coat, was torn to ribbons, His dickey (for he wore a talse one) hung by a tape and fluttered in the wind, s One of his fnoustaches had disappeared, And his head was as bald asa budger, “I demand the life of that yenomous brute!” raved’ the young gentleman, breathlessly, us he arrived at the spot, < Nero had wisely taken shelter behind his master, where he sat winking and and chattering, with his eyes fixed sharply on his denouncer. iy “Why do you his life?” asked Jack, quietly, “Why?” shrieked the indignant speaker, in ashrill tone, ‘because I do, and Vil have it, too!” “Will you?” thought our hero ; ‘*not if I know it.” And then he asked again: “What has he done?” “What?” shouted the young gentleman, Nercely; “look atme. What do I look like, eh” _ “Something between a Guy Fawkes and a scarecrow,” fe Jack, who could not restrain the impulse bo joke. ; } ‘The crowd laughed unanimously, and our here felt he had, at all events, made his first point. “Tf Tam # scarecrow,” exclaimed the sufferer passion- ately. “‘it’s all through that infernal monkey, Let me get at him,” “You'd better mind,” counselled Jack, But the yor gentleman was deaf to expostulations, ap ee ee id, i? ae a } < ie ae rantic rush at Nero, for the purpose 0: annihilating him on the spot, 3 f rey Instead of which, Nero astonished him by a terrific snap at his fingers with his sharp teeth, . At which the you ‘entleman roared’ lustily. “TI told you you'd better mind,” said Jack coolly. “T insist upon that darned vicious brute being de- stroyed instantly!” shouted the youth. “Knock its brains out, Will anybody oblige me?” uM He looked round at the crowd, but no one responded to this appeal, : i “Why don’t you knock them out yourself, if you're so anxious?” suggested Jack here. ‘Because he’s afraid,” cried a voice from the crowd. Our hero could see, from the expression of the faces that surrounded him, that the crowd was rather for than against him, | " This gave him eonfidence, and he replied, in a banter- ing tone; , ‘ “T beg your pardon, Mr.—Mr,—what’s your name?” “His name is Norval,” cried an English actor from the ee bee , “on the Grampian Hills lis father feeds his 8, “Its a darned lie!” shouted the young gentleman; “my name is Long—Lanky Long, and my father doesn’ — feed, any flock,” * “Bravo, Lanky!” and a laugh from the crowd, ‘Very well, then, Mr. Long, Nero is considered a yery handsome specimen of the monkey tribe, and I cannot have him injured.” attcs ! My “Ugh) the diabolical wretch,” growled the young gen- — tleman; “‘he ought to be skewered, rousted, boiled, bung, drawn-and quartered, the darned object.” te, a don’t see that he has done any harm,” said Jack, coolly. “No harm)” almost shricked the long qoung gentle- main; “my coat torn to ribbens—” , alee: "te “Never mind,” laughed our hero, cheerfully, “itll — make it good for trade, Buy another,” 3 E Alaugh from the crowd, and “Bravos!” from three tailors, Se ‘My shirt front—” es i 4 “Dicky, you mean,” from Jack, f \ ae to ‘shreds; my moustache dragged out by the roo! de “You should have glued it'on stronger.” = te Another roar from the crowd, , fry i ‘All my hair plucked off my head.” : ; “What can you expect if you wear a wig?” ee aan a a the crowd yelled with delight at Jack’s daring — rejoinders. Ath **Yes,” continued our hero, addressing the bystanders © on behalf of his dumb companion, ‘this sagicious crea- — ture can’t bear to be poked with a cane, as sealwageent him the collywobbles in his pandenoddles, and then or ; onevan manage him.” . iayHee ycile This last speech brought the affair to a crisis with aroar, — Jack contrived to get Mr, Long’s property out of Nero’s _ clutches and restore it to its owner. : ager ps ._And the dishevelled young gentleman, amid, the deri- sivé laughter of the multitude, sneaked away with his wig on the wrong side foremost. i Ne n A few monients more, and Jack and Nero were once — more alone, 4 $A he) “There, I’ve got you out of that mess,” said the former, as he looked down upon the moukey, who was itted at his feet; “and now we're going on the river. Doyou | } i aegis The chimpanzee grinned and nodded, as much as Comp on, then; and mind, no more tricks for te-day. | Forward, to the river,” { ychisamneies abel jection at tad Ghovicnls meeeun taeda jection that h; reviously conceale: : ‘ cf aud looked hatefuily after Remiee ERS ‘Unnoticed and unsuspected, Hunston and Toro, “dine guised, had separated from the rest of Emmerson’s _ ang; they had mingled with the crowd, amd hi that had passed, and had received atolerably er men of the coolness of the boy. _ pay ( It seemed to suggest that, if he lived tobe a man, he would be ashard a nut to crack as hisfather, “Is it worth while foliowing him?” said Toro, mo as our hero disappeared, +, a oa ‘i “Tt may be,” returned his companion. WORN Sate) “We can’t do much in broad daylight,” Tantlened, I . ~. J ria = << - “No, curse it! “Fortune seems to go againstus ¥ young whelp,” exclaimed Himeton’ petulantiy. ee Dine ee ae cath APR: suey c blak ph dei So Sak Be

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“es, But the wheel will be reversed before long, haps, and then it will be our turn!” ; “This brat seems to haye the luck of his father,” re- marked Toro, “Yes, and he’s the image of him,” admitted Hunston, aurily. ; giees : @ he’s got his father’s bulldog pluck besides, and that’s worse,” grumbled Toro. ‘ “Corpo di Baccho! Did you hear the young bantam cackling to the crowd?” “Of course I did, I felt as though I should have liked io have 8 a him as he spoke.” “And that infernal grinning chimpanzee, too,” said the Italian, vindictively; “I shall never be satisfied till I’ve Knocked the ugly brute’s brains out.” ‘Never mind him; he has no tongue, and can say noth- ing against us.” ‘But he has nails, and he can seratch,” exclaimed Toro, with a very wry face. “Tcan youch for that,” said Hunston, “and I'll pay him off for old scores some day for what he’s done; but _ now never mind him; let us think of the boy,” “He is going to take a boat.” “Most likely; he’s fond of water.” ‘ But come,” exclainied Hutiston at length; ‘‘while we are talking, our prey is moying away from us, Let us move on,” “Dm ready.” “Be cautious, and keep as much out of sight as possi- ble. This precocious imp ‘has sharp eyes.” “Our disguise 18 perfect; not even the detectives could recognize us as we are dregsed,” said Toro, The two accomplices walked forward, and reached the quay just in time to behold one of the steam passenger boats that plied from one side of the river to the other, leaving the pier with its living freight, On the deck of this boat stood young Jack and Nero the monkey. Hunston and Toro looked significantly at each other. ‘*What do you understand by the young pup being on board the ferryboat?” asked the former. “He is crossing, perhaps, for a walk up the country, or a ramble in the woods—anything,” said Toro, These words acted like a spark of fire to gunpowder. Hunston’s eyes suddenly blazed up with a flerce glare. “4 yamble in the woods,” he repeated with intense ve- hemence ‘fiends grant he may.” “I see, you would still follow him.” “J would, I would,” exclaimed the malignant Huns- ton, desperately, ‘follow him into the dim shadows of those giant trees, Once there, my prey should not escape “meq I'd torture him.” ; _.#Vd help you.” “Kill him piecemeal, Indian fashion.” “Bleed him slowly, drop by drop.” : ‘On! that we may have the fchauce; oh! that we may, “Now let us go and have a cigar and a brandy smash; we will there arrange our plans.” \ Arm and arm, the two ruffians walked toward a drink- _ ing bar to drink brandy, and plot murder of the most re horrible and atrocious character, p 4 ——— ea, CHAPTER XI, ON THE TRACK, | HunsTon ana his companion hurried down to th | water’s edge. . | ‘Mingling with the crowd, but taking care to keep as | much out of sight as possible. Coy ape brandy they had drank had not destroyed their | caution, - ; It had only added fire to their vindictive passions, The passenger boat had returned. Eagerly did the two accomplices watch the passengers | as they disembarked. f r Our hero and his companion were not among them. “Good! good!” muttered Hunston, as the last ger stepped ashore; “they remain on the other side,” iy Sie for us—bad for them!” remarked Toro, signifi- | cantly. - “Ye—es,” tHoughtfully replied his comrade, with an | evil glitter in his eyes. ‘I think fortune is going to favor ua atlast.” “Well, and what are you going to do now?” “Grogs over by the next boat, - “And go after them, eh, as we arranged?” | Yea, after the boy,” growled Hunston, emphatically, , between his teeth; “d—n the monkey, I take no notice | of him,” — __ “I mean to square accounts with the brute by knock- ing. brains out,” ned the brigand. | “With all my heart. Now let us go on board,” _ Ina few momeits the partners in villainy were smok- ing their cigars on the deck, f _ Having received its complement of passengers, the boat was about to leave the pier. - Suddenly a voice was heard (bees vociferously— “Stop de ship; dis chile goin’ across!” It was our sable friend, Monday, who had just reach- id spot, and came hurrying along at a good speed for ___ As the vessel had not yet begun to move, there was no ' occasion for it to stop. . | Monday had time to get on before it started. ee t will be remembered that be had been somewhat rt vpn Ned consigned, to the quiet seclusion of the veal sellar, -_ But on getting out, he started to look after young _ Amd by dint of asking eyeryone he met if they bad ange thei of, Mazen Jack and his monkey,” Be was yuded the quay. : fet fa he sought were not to be found there, from Br orks _ ‘Monday oiterere at was informed of this ciroumstance by the ‘the pier, who had seen them depart, gh = they were already on the other side of the Lear, and tmade him pause, > And he said to himself: “Dey gone across, dis chile go arter ’em.” Accordingly, after them he went, And was now aboard anxiously towards the opposite shore. , HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. — eee 000 OE—E——EEEEReEeEeR———>O They were the voices of Hunston and his comrade. The bank was high, and the vindictive purs ing ddvartced thus far wnsuspected, had concealed them- ferry boat, straining, his eyes | selves there the beéter to watch the direction the black was taking, feeling vonfident that to follow him would Trying hard, but failing to catch s glimpse of his | be the readiest meana of finding young Jack. young master and Nero, But, while thus engaged, he was not aware that he was | retreat that their footsteps had first closely watched by two of the passengers, Hunston and Toro, who were scrutinizing the negro with scowling brow. “That darkey belongs to Harkaway. I know the brute well.” remarked Hunston at length, in an nnder- tone. ‘What the devil does he want here?” “It’s pretty clear what. Look how the black rascal rolls his eyes across the water. He is going after the ed: Isuppose,” Hunston muttered to himself, growl- ngly. “That's it,” briefly returned the brigand. ‘Tethim goon. Hell go too far for himself if lie doesn’t take care, I have a trifle or two to settle with “And he willfind some trouble in getting back again, perhaps,” grinned Toro, H eit remained silent and thoughtful for a mo- men B Then he said, reflectively: “This Monday is likely vo be very much in ow way.” tense we put him out of it,” replied his companion, coolly. “Then we will put him out of it,” said Hunston, in a tone of determination, “There won’t be much difficulty about that,” Toro con- tinned. ‘It’s nice and quiet on the opposite side.” “True, a death ery or the report of a popper would searcely be heard,” ‘No, especially a mile or so up the river,” “And how do you propose getting rid of the black?” “T should be guided by circumstances,” replied the Italian, with a cool shrug of his shoulders. ‘How do you mean?” “Tf the i retired, we might knock his brains out with a bludgeon.” ““Psha! niggers have no brains.” “Well, then, we could give hima leaden pill between his ribs.” “That’s better.” “Or send him flying from the path into the river, and fire at him from the bank.” “That would be the best sport,” gloatingly. Whilst this interesting conversation was terminated by the arrival of the boat atthe opposite pier, the pass- engers disembarked. Monday, eager to continue his search after his young master, was amongst the first to leave the vessel. Hunston and Toro were the very last. It was their policy to let Monday go on ahead, Whilat they kept him in sight and followed at a distance. ‘The black, on stepping ashore, made his way at once to the foothpath that ran along by the river’s bank. - _ Here instinctively he began to examine the ground with scrutinising attention, In his own country he had often traced a friend or a foe by their footprints. He had not searched more than a few seconds when he uttered an exclamation of joy. “Here dey am,” he cried; “here de marks of de mon- key’s paws. Dey gone dis way.” For some distanee he continued his course in this > But nsvdediedaking) 4 hin f once looki ut never eagerness, of onee lookin: behind him. er s she Kg Gradually the city on the opposite bank was left in the rear, 2 The path grew more solitary. The footmarks had ceased to continue the path. ; Monday ahi teh a halt, i ‘ The sun was shining hotly down upon his head, - “Him tink hima jeos babdilly drop of ram fore Wit ¢o on again,” he soliloquised. Taking a flask from his ket he took what he called a little, but which some might have thought a tolerably large drop, As he was replacing the cork some sound seemed to strike upon his quick ears, for he suddenly assumed an attitude of Indian caution and listened. \ “What dat?” he muttered to himself, in a low, sus- picious tone, Hastily thrusting the bottle into his pocket, he looked ace ried the road he had just traversed, Noone was in sight. Nothing was visible but nature, smiling in the bright sunlight of that lovely day. But this did not allay Monday’s suspicions. He could not believe his ears had deceived him. “Him almost take him oath him hear footsteps!” he exclaimed, thoughtfully, ' And then he stretched Le perons full length along the path, and eae his ear close to the greund remained in that position listening for several moments. . When he again raised his head, there was no-longer any doubt in the expression of his face. His dark eyes flashed with certainty as he directed their gaze toward the river’s bank, ¥ are Monday looked, as of old, a brave and cautious ndian, “Whoever dey am, dey dere,” he ejaculated, as he pointed in that direction. ’ where he stood, the river muttered Hunston, in a line with At a short distance from wound into a sort eyes were fastened, pat 20) But he did not long remain inactive. With a step as wary a8 that of some wild animal ap- | Seapets, the river’s bank to slake its dhirst, Monday | re w near the edge ofthe creek. the murmuring As he came on, of voices caught his ’ ‘ 4 12 of creek, It was upon this spot his| y It was as they ran hastily up and plunged into this me audible to Monday. Throwing himself once more flat upon the ground, he approached the edge of the creek with the writhing, snake-like motion of an Indian on the war trail. Having proceeded in this manner to the utmost limit that prudence permitted, he stopped and listened, try- ing to hear what those below were saying. In this he was successful, He could hear distinctly, The conversation, too, at that moment, was particu- larly interesting, the subject being himself. t “Ha, hal” he heard one of the speakers say, with a laugh, ‘the black beggar’s stopping to consider which path to take next.” “Yes, and to‘have a suck at his flask, Corpi Bacchol how fond these niggers are of rum.” | It was Toro who had just spoken, His words rather tickled the *‘black beggar,” who Was listening above, ‘Dat’ true enough,” he admitted to himself, with a grim; “‘darkies like ole Jamaikey; dat am a fact.” Hunston then continued: x “Tam inclined to think, from the way in which the negro examined the grass, that Master Jack Harkaway must have branched off about this spot across the coun- try. ‘Very likely; all the better if he has,” returned Toro, we can’t settle him between us,” be “4 pull of a trigger, or a stab with one 8f our knives, will get rid of the carrion,” said Hunston, with con- brary store ay indifference, ‘‘and then there will only remain the boy to dispose of.” “And the monkey,” suggested Toro, “T leave the beast to you,” returned his companion, in a tone of disgust. E “Tl attend to him.” _. As Monday listened to the foregoing ominous words, the smile died out of his face. His eyes glared fiercely. His broad chest heaved up and down like a wave of the sea, Not with fear, but excitement, mingled with horror. The negro, although he had not seen the speakers, had formed a pretty correct conception who they were. , His honest heart was filled with indignation, “Dey think dis chile lead ’em whar de dear young massa gone, do dey?” he murmured inwardly to himself. “Him be shot twenty times ober fuss, and den hin wouldn’t, de dam skunks!” 7 Monday, in his wrath, felt strongly inclined to thrust his head over the edge of the bank, and teli the lurking villains what he thought of them. But prudence held him back, He was unarmed, 4 His young master was, ahead, on this solitary side of the river. Unsuspicious of danger, he would certainly return the same way he went. yi Nothing could prevent him from falling into the hauds of the wretches who waited for him, thirsting like savage tigers for his innocent blood. Nothing—but one thing. F That was forcing the murderers to retrace their steps. But how was this to be accomplished? ~N His foes were two to one. Armed, too, to the teeth, whilst he had no weapon of any kind. Not that he would have feared even these odds in de- fence of his master’s child, But he felt strongly that the life of that child depended now upon his own, i ‘Tf dis child get shot, him not much good certainly,” he argued to himself; “but what poor Massa Jack do? ” This somewhat complicated list of thoughts has taken some little time to peed in words, But they rushed tHmough Monday’s excited brain with the rapidity of lightning. : . He was in a most Gis aide 3 position. But just at this moment, to his dismay, he heard one of the men below say: “wonder what that infernal nigger’s up to by this time? Look out; it is time.” “I will,” returned Toro, to whom the words were ad- dressed, As he spoke the xees slowly raised his head aboye the upper ridge of the bank, ; } “Hullol He found himself confronted by a black face, a pair of Rleaming eyes, anda set of very. white teeth, clenched desperately together, ) * j The noses of the negro and the Italian almost touched each other. ” No wonder the latter was astonished. A “Diavolo!” he ejaculated, in a startled tone,and seemed inclined to bob his head down again, i) But Monday never stirred. Hekep this large brown eyes fixed and glaring at Tore, Toro glared at him, : For a few seconds not a word wae spoki ‘At length Toro, having recovered he had received, growled out, very emphatically: “Who, in the devil’s name, are you?’ “Dat de identical question Ais chile war going to ax ourself,” was Monday’s reply, > 4 “We're gentlemen,” exclaimed Hunston, in. have. ie “We must keep close upon Monday, and it’s hard if - en, ; from the slight start a con-— temptuous tone, showing his face above the bank for the — » first time, “Dis child gen’leman too,” returned 8 ‘to his knees, and looking down upon those he flcgsce Hunston inquired, 7] vA 7’ ae > , ) nF a GY ee the negro, rising — “and what do you, want here, prying al wut, ebe™ ai:

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Aa “Tell dis child what you want fust, den him tell you what him wants,” was the equitable answer he re- ecived. This at once roused Hunston’s inflammable temper do an ungovernable pitch, and, throwing aside all self con- trol, he shouted, fiercely— “Tm here to take the life of that young cub, Jack Harkaway, you ble% son of Satan! Do you undesstand that, eh?” Monday’s broad features became convulsed at these words, His lips quivered, and his eyes rolled ominously, as he replied: __ “No, him don’t; but him tell you why dis child here. Him here to save de life of Massa Jack from you two white debbills, You understand dat, eh?” An ironical burst of malignant laughter answered this appeal. Ryou save his life!” exclaimed Hunston, mockingly “You! Puta bullet into him, Toro,” he shouted. ; “With pleasure,” returned the brigand, readily, as he thrust his hand into his pocket in quest of his weapon, It was a critical moment for our friend Monday, But, just at that instant, he was inspired with a bril- liantthought, and, before Toro could produce his revol- ver,his negro opponent drew forth his weapon, and levelled it at the head of his adversary, . on formidable implement was, after all, only his rum ask. j But, as he concealed the body of the bottle in his large hand, the neck, which protruded, represented the barrel very effectively. “Now, den,” he cried, determinedly, to Toro, ‘de minnit you take your hand out of your pocket, dat min- nit I shall pull dis trigger, and blow you to mortal smash,” The Italian kept his hand where it was; but Hunston, whose patience was rapidly becoming exhausted, quickly detected the imposition, “What are you afraid of?” he shonted. “Don’t you see it is ondy a liquor flask?” ‘Bhis restored the brigand’s self-possession, and he sprang up the bank, and opposed his giant bulk against the stalwart but less formidable proportions of the Limbian. At the same time he drew his revolver from his pocket and cocked it. Another moment and it would have been probably pointed at Monday’s head. But Hunston checked him. A better idea had taken possession of his mind. “Hold!” he exclaimed, as he laid his hand upon his comrade’s arm. *‘Hold!—for why?” aked Toro, Hunston answered, in a low tone: “He must first serve our turn; after that, kill him as soon as you please.” “Right,” returned the brigand, as he lowered the hammer of his weapon, and placed it ina belt which he wore round his waist. Monday’s quick eyes noticed this. His quick ears, too, had caught the remark mado by Hunston. In an instant he had decided upon his course of ac- tion; and, with a tremendous bound, hesprang forward, and, with one determined wrench, dragged the revolver fyom the resting place to which Toro had just consigned it. The giant fairly staggered at this daring feat, and then he recoiled several paces in dismay. Hunston strode forward with a threatening gesture. But it was only to find the six barrels pointed at his face, and looking at him like so many angry eyes. It was now Monday’s time to crow. “Now, den,”’ he cried, exultingly, “de best thing you two fellahs to do am jess toturn round and go back same Way as youcome. If not, sure as this chile’s name eee him gib both ob you more pills dan you like to e. Hunston turned pale, and bit his lips till the blood started. Toro glared moodily from under his thick eyebrows at the sable hero, “We'd better make a moye, or preteud to do so,” he muttered, in an undertone, to his comrade. “I'll drop upon the black devil in a minute.” oe Aas iy ent sa glided his hand into his weck sts rought forth somethi which he concealed palm of his hand. rot daca es Cis Maipr ee ! was af ae elastic ring, which he ipped upon his left wrist, wher = corns by the aleeve ae his coat. forey tae ‘ome, move On, you white debbils!” cried Monda: impatiently, “You know the way—straight ahead.” iy As he spoke he pointed imperatively forward with the pi he grasped, The two accomplices slowly commenced their retreat. aeee whispered afew words to his companion as they went. / Ao pind he in reply, and asked, in a low tone: “As soon as We reach the of i ” Ee Baobab her side of the creek,” was Ina few seconds they had reached this like a faithful custodian, following Minette them, with the revolver pointed and ready for immediate use, “Now’s the time,” whispered the Ttalian, hr Hunston suddenly stopped, and looked Bentad ana “There he ist” he exclaimed, with assumed eagerness, as he pointed over the negro’s shoulder. ‘Massa Jack!” cried Monday, with vivid excitement. thrown off his guard, and looking quickly round. ' Quick as thought, Hunston bounded forward and gripped the revolver, : Monday turned with a startled yell. But ere an, ee could take place, Toro crept iquietly behind, nd took from his wrist the elastic ring, /” Then, by an effort of his immense strength, having HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. expanded it sufficiently, he slipped it dexterously over the head and shoulders of the negro. The strong contractive power of the ligature acted like a vice. Poor Monday was completely fettered. His arms were fixed to his side as though they had been glued there. Taking advantage of his embarrassment, Hunston wrenched the revolver from his grip, and battered him cruelly with the stock about the face and head. The burly Toro punched him with his massive fists. Monday, from the helpless condition of his hands, was quite unable to defend himself. Step by step he drew back stunned and bewildered by the sudden and ferocious attack. He neared the edge of the creek, ‘Toro saw his advantage, and with a yell of demoniac triumph he sprang forward, just as Hunston fired, and struck the negro a tremendous final blow on the fore- head with his clenched fist. It was severe enough to have felled an ox, and it sent Monday flying backward into the middle of the creek with a loud splash. The black was usually a splendid swimmer, but he was now stunned and helpless. Accordingly, after the first commotion had subsided, the waters closed over laim. Only a few bubbles rising te the surface revealed what was going on beneath. ~ The ruffians shouted with fiendish glee at the success of their plan. ‘‘Let’s give him a bullet for luck!” cried Toro, brutally, Bang went a revolver, “There’s mine,”,exclaimed Hunston, with a sardonic laugh. Bang again. ‘‘And there’s one more,” grinned the giant. A few bubbles and some streaks of blood floating up and reddening the surface proved that the shots had taken effect. “Good-bye, Monday,” cried Hunston, with a mocking sneer; “now I have paid you for your services to Jack Harkaway.” “To the devil with you, you black brute,” growled Toro. “And now for the bew, Jack Harkaway.” . Having said this, Hunston turned from the spot, fol- lowed by his comrade. A few moments later they were hastening across the country in search of a fresh victim, while in the river ereek, close under the bank, lay a dark body, washed ashore by the tide. It was the body of the hapless negro Monday. And poor young Jack was to be Hunston’s and the giant Toro’s next victim. CHAPTER XIII. IN THE TOILS. TEMPTED by the beauty of the day, and little thinking of the great danger that followed him, our young hero wandered on till he reached a spot where the trees began to grow thicker and closer. “A wood!” he exclaimed, joyously; “that’s jolly, I like be Come on, Nero, old boy, we shall have some fun ere, Nero gringed and chattered, clambering up one tree and down another, and swinging himself from branch to branch in a reckless manner, that proved him to be sateen | at home in such acrobatic feats. Jack had taken the precaution to bring a packet of sandwiches, And having arrived at a convenient spot, he resolved to halt there and have dinner, Nero also had his enjoyment at the same time, which consisted of seizing upon the table-napkin and mount- ing with it up to some neighboring branch, where he sat looking down with his round, cunning eyes at his mas- ter, and gibbering a strange patois, which, if translated from the monkey dialect, would probably have been: “Catch me if you can,” “Bring down my napkin directly, sir!” cried young Jack, laughing, as he shook his fist at therobber, “Do you hear?” Nero heard, and replied by flourishing the piece of damask, and exclaiming: “Chirp, chirp!” la Which evidently meant “Don’t you wish you may get it?”, “Will you come down?” shouted our hero, “Ohirp, chirp!” and a shake of the head from Nero, ‘Very well, sir; then I shall come up after you, and pull you down by your tail.” Our young hero, for his age, was an expert’climber, and as fearless as he was expert. As he was climbing, he could just catch an indistinct eal of the monkey at a considerable heighth aboye im. _A few more moments of hard work brought Jack within reach of Nero’s tail. | “Now I’ve got you!” he cried, as he made a grasp at that useful member. But the monkey, quick as thought, sprang into the branches of the tree adjoining. This feat, though perfectly easy to amonkey, was ut- terly impossible for a boy to perform. ; And there Nero sat, mischieyously nibbling the nap- kin with his sharp teeth. “Drop it, you aggravating rascal, do!” cried our hero; “Gf you don’t Pil—” : Without waiting to hear his sentence pronounced, the monkey suddenly uttered a shrill squeak, and, dropping the napkin, made a wild spring into the adjacent branch- es, and was soon out of sight. The napkin had finttered to the ground, and Jack thought the sooner he followed it the better, Accordingly he began to descend. ~ * “I wonder what dad would say if he could only see me now,” he said to himself, as he went on, ‘and Monday, 7 , dear old Monday! I wish be was— 7. / 7 ——————————— !]j! oa ae 00(;00 0 SES ees He broke off suddenly, for he fancied he heard a suby dued laugh beneath. “It must be Monday,” he said to himself, “who hae followed us. I hope it is.” He continued his descent, calling as he did so— “Ts that you, Mon, old fellow?” “Come down and see,” replied a voice from below. It was not the honest voice of his friend, however, that reached his ear; but the stern, cold tones thet chilled his blood, he remembered only too well; he had heard them before. j Clinging to the branch that supported him, he looked + a own. Beneath the tree stood Hunston and his gigantic com- panion Toro, The deadliest enemies.of his father and himself, ‘Their eyes were fixed upon hin, He could almost read their intentions in their looks. And these seemed to be summed up in one awful word: “Death,” Death without mercy, in that silent, secluded wood." For a moment, as if fascinated, our hero remained gazing at his foes beneath, and they at him, At leugth, from the lips of _Hunston, oozed forth the imperative command: “Come down!” “No, thank you,” coolly replied Jack, who, in spite of his position, had all his wits about him. . “Come down, I say,” Hunston repeated, in a louder tone. “J shan’t,” returned our hero, with something like a smile of defiance glimmering in his eyes; ‘I thmk I’m better where I am.” “I order you to come down!” “What do you want with me?” asked Jack. “T'}l tell you when you reach the ground,” Hunsten replied. “1m not coming to the ground; T can’t trust you,”’ re- plied our hero, If you’ve anything to tell me, tell me here. Hunston bit his lip with rage. “If you don’t come down this nstant, you whelp, Pz fetch you down in double-quick time. . “Will you? You'll not find it quite so easy as you think to climb this tree.” His listeners, in spite of their aaggravation, uttered # hoarse Jaugh at this innocent idea, and Hunston asked, in a sneering tone: “Who's going to climb the tree, eh?” “Didn't you say, if I wouldn’t come down, you’d fete me down in double quick time?” Jack replied. “J did, and so I will,” growled his enemy, “J don’t see how you cun do that without climbing,” returned our hero, in a quiet tone of assurance. The ruffians below laughed again. “You young idiot!” exclaimed Hunston. ‘There are ways of bringing down a refractory boy without climb- | ing after him.” As he spoke, he drew from his pocket a revolver. Toro did the same, “Do you see this?” cried Hunston, as ‘he held up his. eapon. “and this?” asked his companion as he displayed his. Poor Jack saw both too p! ly, and felt that he had but little chance. ‘“Tt’s all over with me,” he murmured to himself. “These are the messengers we intend to send up the tree after you,” continued Hunston. “they’re capital climbers.” Toro laughed loudly. “Now, then, are you coming down?” Hunston inquired. “No, I’m not,” returned Jack, determinately; “if you mean to shoot me I’d just as soon be shot up here as om the ground.” ~*~, . ‘It won’t be good for you if you remain where you are another minute,” growled Hunston, *Stop your and zome down,” But far from obeying, the young climber only shook his head, and clung more firmly to the branch that sus- tained him. A muttered oath burst from Hunston’s lips, and he conferred for an instant with his companion, The brief conference over, they cocked their revolvers, and levelled them towards himself. It was an awful moment, Our hero felt bis heart throbbing like a giant hammer against his ribs, “Pray God help me, and bless my dear father and mother, and little Emily,” was his simple prayer, Then he quietly closed his eyes, and waited for bia deathstroke, Bang—crash! Bang—crash! The two revolvers had been discharged. : “Strange,” thought young Jack, * 1 am net touched,” ’ The builets had buried themselves in the branch ie which he was clinging, instead of his body. “Will you descend?”” **No!?? Again the weapons were levelled. Again their report rang ont through the wood, Bang—crash Bang—crash! Still he was unwounded, The bullets haa pierced the branch as before, What did it mean? : The men who were firing at him were good sho! It was hardly likely they would miss their aim, Once more the reyolvers were discharged, but without any harm to him. Were they only trying to frighten him? He almost began to think it must be so, when | wi 2% . and again the weapons belched forth their contents. a Suddenly the mystery was explained. Tt At the last shots the branch, which had Pee edly pierced by bullets, creaked for a eet assisted by the weight of the body attached te it, bene, ort off. ; i A ~ Our hero had no time to save himself, | Jy,

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Down he came headlong, crashing through the branches and now lay prostrate on the ground at the very feet of his foe, The branches of the tree had broken Jack’s fall, but he felt giddy and shaken by the tumble he had had. When he opened his eyes, the first objects he saw were the forms of Hunston and the giant Toro bending over him, “You see I have brought you down, my sprightly youth,” grinned the former, mockingly. “And now you’ve brought me down, what are you going to do with me?” asked the plucky boy, boldly. “We'll soon let you know what, you impudent pup!” growled Toro; ‘‘I know what I will do with you.” Then he thrust his hand into his pocket, and produced a piece of cord, “‘Now, then,” he cried to Jack, as he held it up before him, ‘‘do you know what this is for?” *No, I don’t; nor do I want to know,” returned our hero, doggedly. 4 ‘ “1'll tell you, then,” replied Toro, with a demoniac grin; ‘‘it’s to tie your feet together.” Our hero sprang up from the ground. “J won’t be tied,” he exclaimed, defiantly, making a bolt at the same time. f ‘tWon’t you?” cried the Italian, mockingly, as he swooped down upon him like a vulture, and held him fast. vainly to get free. “Oh, yes, you will,” continued Toro, “and be hung up by the heels,’ “Let me go!” cried Jack, excitedly, as he struck out with his clenched fists, and kicked with all his might. “We'll soon stop your kicking,” snarled Hunston, as, * by a sweep of his foot, he knocked our hero off his legs. ‘Noro ater on him in a moment and wound the cord tig round and round his ankles, as an enormous spider might have wound up a hapless fly in his web, “Now, then, pinion his arms; quick!” cried Hunston, gloatingiy, as he watched the proceedings. ‘Toro felt in ‘ pocket, But he had no more cord. “Take this,” said his comrade, as he threw him Jack’s damask napkin, which, in his eager excitement, he had twisted into a wisp. “The very thing,” grinned Toro, as he caught it. Resistance was useless. hie could one poor boy do against two powerful men’ j Young Jack Harkaway was perfectly helpless in the power of his remorseless assailants, “Up with him,” shouted Hunston; “I long to see the young cub hanging.” ‘Ha, Hal with his head downwards,” added Toro, with a ferocious chuckle. j As he spoke, the brigand took up his helpless victim with one hand, as though he had been a bundle of wood or wool, and carried him to a tree, from which a branch projected about six feet from the ground, “T shall want something to tie*him up with,” said Toro, as he stood carelessly swinging his human bundle to and fro. “Anything will do,” returned Hunston, hastily; ‘‘here, use my silk handkerchief.” E As he spoke, he dragged his silk handkerchief from his pocket, and thrust it into Toro’s hand. “That will do. Now then, amico, mio, eee you'll hold our sprightly young friend whilst rt him up by tho heels,” “Y will,” replied Hunston, readily, as he made a step towards the helpless prisoner. But ere he could reach him a very unexpected inci- dent took place. A violent agitation was perceptible amongst the branches above, and a heavy body came plunging down upon Hunston’s head. ay He Hunston found his hat suddenly knocked over his eyes ‘and himself hurled to the ground. _ The heavy body was no other than Nero the monkey. The sagacity of the aninial on his return at once recog- nized Hunston and Toro as dangerous customers, _ - Instinctively he seemed to divine that they meditated evil to Jack, and that under the circumstances strong measures ought to be adopted. Accordingly, he commenced, as we have described, by dropping upon Hunston, and, having floored his foe, he went to work with his teeth and nails in true monkey fashion, ?, Hunston’s hair was tugged out by handfuls. His nose was pulled till he hardly knew whether he had any nose at all. or face was riddled with scratches, like the bars of a gridiron. j __ In yain he struck out wildly and strove to escape from his assailant. The monkey was immensely strong. : Each time he made a blow Nero retaliated by a bite or ~ a scratch, When he strove to escape the monkey pulled him back by the leg, and rolled over and over with him, each time doing Hunston some injury. _ Hunston, bruised and breathless, and unable either to con: so i Ay, send paar oe + 'p, help, Toro!” he gas ; this infernal satires the life ont of me.” Oy; ll be down him,” answere dead his Lalita. upon d the brigand, as he _ Ashe approached the spot, however, where the strug- gle was continuing, a new idea suggested itself. Nero’s tail was towards him, ‘The giant brigand, seeing Hunston getting the worst of the fight, sprang forward and sei i both hands by his fail, ee eo Nero uttered leal a: | aus aaa ie a tremendous squeal at finding himself _ But before he could take any steps for his deliverance, he oh Bie baer and round in the ‘air with i \ rapidi 6 strong arms of A "Poor Nero wae que helplegs, ©)" ne Giant a} rly i ts “No, I wont,” returned the prisoner, still struggling aa HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND, And his captor having swung him in this manner until (monkey thoughhe was)his brains were completely turned, he dashed his head with tremendous force against the trunk of the tree, ; This was a settler for poor, helpless Nero, The last blow was a cruel one, and the poor, faithful monkey lay on the ground, lifeless, motionless. It was with a sickening sensation our young hero watched these dreadful proceedings, The only friend who could have helped him was now past helping even himself. His cruel foes were upon him in a moment. Hunston smarting from his wounds, and more deadly and implacable than ever. ‘Now then,” he hissed between his teeth, savagely, “string the boy up.” As he spoke, he stooped down and dragged his fettered victim rough'y up by his heels, He could only protest against the brutal treatment he palo receiving, whilst Toro was performing;his hangman’s office. 5 oe be punished for this, both of you,” cried ack, *Psha ” growled Hunston. “You are sure to be found out.” **Ha, ha! Who’s to find us?” “My father will,” returned our hero, with strong confi- ce. “Your father be——!” burst out the malignant Huns- ton; ‘he’s nothing but a lying, boasting braggart.” “My father’s a gentleman, and never told a liein his life,” boldly retorted young Jack; ‘that’s more than you can say. “Chatter away you young whelp!”” Hunston hissed be- tween his teeth; ‘your magpie tongue wili soon be quiet enough,and then your bold father shall know where you are and it shall go hard with us if we do not serve him in ie ro way; how do you like our plan you young eas ; ‘Wait till the blood begins to run into his head, and then he can inform us. Ho! ho!” shouted Toro. “‘Wretches!” murmured the poor boy, at these horrible words. ‘My father will avenge me.” “Ha, ha, ha!” shouted Hunston, mockingly. “Let him do his wurst, I defy him.” “Father, father, where are you? Am TI to perish like this? Oh, do come,” and the brave boy strained his eyes anxiously around, as if half expecting to see his parent hurrying to the spot, But, alas! he came not. He was far away at that moment, entirely ignorant of the deadly peril that threatened his darling son, “Ah! youmay look, but no help will reach you hear,” said the villain Hunston, “Poor dad will never know my fate,” murmured Jack, mournfully; ‘‘I hope he won't,” “Oh, yes, he will,” hissed Hunston between kis teeth, ‘the shall.” “I pray not; it would break his heart.” ‘‘Aye! break his heart, that’s whatI desire,” roared Hunston. “Tl take care he shall know your fate,” he con- tinued; “I'll take care he shall ¢ome here, here to this very spot, here to find you, his pretty sailor boy, his darling pet, dangling by the heels from this branch, dead, and to learn that I, Hunston, was his executioner, Ha, ha! this will be revenge indeed. Jack Harkaway’s son and heir hung like a cur. Ha, ha, ha!” And a fiendish laugh burst from the wretch’s throat. “Now, my boy, try how it feels,” grinned Toro, “You can let him go,” Hunston threw young Jack from him with brutal viox lence, and the poor boy was swinging to and fro, sus- pended from the branch by his heels with his head downward, there to die a horrible death, whilst his mur- derers stood by, eager to gloat over bis expiring agonies. Young Jack, as our readers well know, was no coward. He was his father —Jack Harkaway—over again, h ages a the backbone, ut his present awful positi: ‘ht ha Ber teat tease position mig! ve appalled the And the poor boy, if the truth must be told, felt in- clined to give in and plead for mercy, “But what would be the use? No,” he thought, “| lif won't ask,” Even then his spirit triumphed. “Tf I must die, I must,” he murmured to himself, and prepared himself to meet his coming fate, For a short time he strove to bear up against the sen- sations that began to steal over him. But as the blood rushed from his body into his head, the horrible sense of pressure on the overcharged brain became almost too great for endurance, It was horrible as the pressure increased to hear the sounc as of g waters thundering in his ears. Then his breathing became oppressed, He writhed with agony. “He feels it now,” remarked Toro, in a tone of intense interest. ‘ “Yes, yes,” returned Hunston, whose eyes were fixed upon his victim’s face. “Oh, how I wish I had his father and Harvey bound the same way; then would my re- venge be complete.” Poor young Jack! His eyes, widely open, seemed to be starting from their sockets, He gasped terribly for breath. His face was pes 7 The veins in his neck and forehead swollen almost to bursting. The blood flowed from his nose and ears. A stifled cry of agony burstfrom the tortured lips of young Jack Harkaway. : Soon all would be over. ‘ Stay! Hark! : ‘Was it fancy? f j E Or did a shout at a short distance off answer the poor _ | boy’s ery. \ 0 and Hunston seemed to think #0, the coat with his right hand. For they started and looked suspiciously at one an, other, Again the young sufferer shrieked wildly. A quick and loud shout came sounding in reply through the wood. “Hullo!” _ This time there could be no doubt there was help at and. “Dat young Massa Jack's voice?” was shouted in fa- miliar tones. And the next moment, crashing through the under growth, his eyes glaring wildly with terrible excitement, the dark features of Monday came in sight, CHAPTER XIV. THE END OF THE BOENE. He was dripping with wet, and his clothes were stained with blood. But it was dear old Monday still, and not his ghost. Monday alive and ready to do battle against any in defence of the boy he loved, He saw at a glance the two murderers and then the deadly peril of his young master, and he cried, as he ad- vanced, in a voice hoarse with horror and indignation— “You big villains! you dam big cruel *fernal villains!” But he did not attack them. He rushed straight up to him who most needed his as- sistance. “Massa Jack! dear Massa Jack!” he wailed, piteously, with tears in his eyes; “are you alive?” “Ye-es,” murmured the poor boy; ‘cut me down quickly.” “Dis minit,” replied the delighted negro, as he dragged his knife from his pocket; “I save you dear boy,” The blade flashed in the air, Another instant and our hero would have been released from his awful position, but ere this could be accom- plished, the report of a revolver was heard. : ‘Then a ery of mingled pain and despair. And the brave negro fell backwards on the ground, pierced by a bullet from Hunston’s weapon. ‘The idea of that negro having the d——d impudence to be alive after the pummelling and the cold bath we gave him,” remarked Hunston, coolly, as he restored his smoking revolver to its place in his belt. “Nothing but lead will quiet these black beggars.” “He is quiet enough now,” said Toro, giving the mo- tionless body of the prostrate negro a contemptuous kick as he spoke. “And so is Master Jack Harkaway,” comtinued bis com- rade, as he approached the branch from which our hap- less hero was suspended and contemplated his murder- ous work with satisfaction. “Yes,” assented Toro; ‘there’s no doubt about that, His account’s settled for this world, Our next victim shall be Jack Harkaway, his hated father.” Poor young Jack hung there perfectly still and mo- tionless. Not a limb stirred. Not a feature quivered. The purple hue had died out from his face, and he had become pale as death itself. “Tm quite satisfied,” exclaimed Hunston, in a cold- blooded, deliberate tone, as he turned to depart. ; “Shall I put a bullet in his heart before leaving?” in- quired the brigand. ‘hat would make certain that the boy will trouble us no more,” “No, that would spoil my revenge; his father must know he perished slowly. I will let Harkaway know the exact spot where he will find his dead son.” With these words the accomplices plunged into the thicket and disappeared, . . Hardly were they out of sight, when the supposed life- less body of our hero began to stir conyulsively. Suddenly he opened his eyes, and glared wildly around im. Young Jack, in spite of the vindictive maliee of his enemies, was not dead yet. Providence had watched over him. The blood he had lost, instead of hastening his end, had relieved the pressure from his brain and saved his e. But he was in a terribly critical position. And though conscious of his danger, he was too weak to rescue himself. r “Monday, help me,” he murmured, in scarcely audible -accents; Mon—” His voice ceased abruptly. He had no power to finish the word. Poot Mon day. He, alas! wus unconscious. What was to be done? : The helpless boy cast up his eyes despairingly, as if imploring Heaven to hep him. ‘ His eyes fastened on the branch over his head. ; If he could only raise himself so as to grasp that, he. might still be premecrl he thought, He had no strength, Suddenly, as if by ngleam of inspiration, a thought flashed across him, The coil of string with the hook. Might not that assist him? Undoubtedly, if he only had the power to use it. But, so far from that, he could not even get at it. But the desire for life was strong within him. ; As he pressed his arm against his side, he could feet the hook resting in his jacket pocket, ; This inspired him, and he résolved to make an effort — to draw it forth. ; Cramped and pinioned as he was, he endeavored, by means of his left arm and hand, to coax that part of the jacket where the pocket was placed more over his breast, "In a few moments he was able to grasp the lappel of — An instant more, and he had possessed himself of his — coil ee, and hook, ie Pe Dent A thrill of joy passed through him as he ¢ ‘But there was nob mae cause for

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' young hero for endurance. -. He has strength enough to support himself a moment X - and a black face rose apriy out of the river, HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. uae Oana He had yet to fix the hook in the branch over his head, | “<T cam never—never do it,” he wailed, piteously. But the thought of his desperate situation quickly aroused him. Me “JT must try,” he murmured; ‘St is my only chance for life. Please, God, help me!” Having uttered this simple prayer, he began to un- wind the string to which the hook was attached. Then, with a sudden jerk, he tried to swing the string over the branch from which he was suspended, It fell short, anti he had to commence the operation over again. z Again he made the attempt. Again a failure, A ory of disappointment burst from his lips. He was growing dreadfully exhausted and faint, His lips and throat were parched with thirst, and his eid sensations were beginning to return, The pressure on the brain, the strange sownds in his gars, and a strange bewilderment in his thoughts, “I shall die, I shall die,” he groaned, despairingly; “T have no hope.” “Have hope, Jack,” a soft voice seemed to whisper in his eam “courage—try again,” “T will, cried our hero, stimulated by the voice he fan- cied he had heard; “I will try once more; but if I fail this time it will be the last. Ihave no more strength.” By an intense efforf of determination he once more get the string in motion. “One, two, three,” he cried, ing effort, he swung it up with The attempt was successful, God had helped him, With a bold curve, the cord flew clean over the branch, and twisted round it, the hook fastening itself in a pro- jecting knot. When our hero drew in the cord, and pulled against it, it was quite firm and tight, ‘The heart of the poor boy bounded with renewed hope at the success of his exertions. “Tf I can only pull myself up,” he thought. And without waiting to indulge in further surmise, he began at once to make the attempt, This he found the hardest work of all. He dared not make any violent effort, for fear of breaking the cord, which was thin. He was obliged to twist it round each hand in turn, to raise himself slowly, cautiously, inch by inch, The cord cut into his flesh almost like a knife. Tt was a struggle for life, and that nerved our brave as, with one last remain- all his strength. Gradually his body assumes a horizontal position. He is approacning the branch slowly but surely. One more effort, and he will be able to clutch it. Again he breathed a short prayer, and onca more he thought he heard a smiill voice say: “Oourage, courage, Jack. Keep on.” y Again the cord is wound round his swollen hands. Again he rises—gently, steadily, The branch is within his reach, And now— : Ha! what sound is that? Snap. The string has broken. , And the poor boy? Is he— No, no. His hands clasp the bough, whilst he recovers his breath, Then, by one more effort, he rolls himself over full mse upon the branch where he lies, panting but re- oicing. j His object is accomplished. The monster—death—is foiled of his prey. * * * For some time our hero lay with his eyes closed, but fervently breathing a prayer of thanks for his escape from the villain Hunston and the brigand Toro. Whilst Jack is recovering himself, we will turn our at- tention to another of our characters, poor Monday, who was now stretched upon the ground, wounded and in- sensible, ; Our readers will naturally be anxious to know how, after being at the bottom of the river, the faithful negro eould ever have lived;to be shot, The mystery is, nevertheless, simple enough when ex- ained. Phen Monday was, by the iron hand of the giant Toro, knocked backwards into the creek, he was not drowned, The water, which would haye speedily destroyed any ordinary individual, had a contrary effect upon cur sable triend, ; It only revived him, and brought him to his senses. From his infaney he had been aecustomed to live al- Tost as muchin the water as out of it. When, therefore, he found the waters of the creek close over him, he was not alarmed, ag most peoPle who could not swim (and many who could) would have been. n the contrary, he congratulated himself on bis posi- don, his reasoning being somewhat ag follows: ‘ n de fuss place, being at de bottom of de creeks him he eee een of Massa Hunston and Toro; dat one “In de next pli me dead; dat see if I don’t come up again, dey tink| “Den, when dey 800d ting, Let dem tink so, : gone, I get ont and follow the darned caitjomakes—look arter’Marea Jack. Dat do best ting ob passed through the negro’s brain in an eye, and determined him to keep Hardly had they turned their backs, ere a woolly head looked after a them, took a deep gulp of air into his mouth, and slowly disappeared again beneath the surface. “De boy, de dear boy!” thought Monday, as the water closed over him, The idea of his young master’s danger gave him the strength of a giant. With one sudden and mighty effort of his strong arms, he burst asunder the elastic ring that confined his arms. Then, swift as an arrow from a bow, still, however, keeping beneath the surface, he darted toward the bank. Three of his rapid strokes brought him there; and having reached the bank, he lay for a time quite still, to recover his breath, and alow his foes to get a good dis- tance ahead. J His grazed shoulder bled profusely, for Toro’s shot had taken effect, and his jacket was deluged with blood, Anyone looking at him as he lay there would have cer- tainly pronounced him dead, But in a few moments more he was on his feet, and, though feeling rather faint and giddy from his exertions and the continued bleeding of his wound, following en the track of Hunston and Toro, How he arrived at a most momentous crisis; what he said-and did, and the fate be experienced, is already known to the reader, Now helay prostrate onthe ground, the pulses of his faithful heart beating slowly, his strong limbs, feehle as those of an infant, bleeding, dying perhaps, * * * al * * It was after a kind dreamy stupor had worn off, that our hero at length opened his eyes. He felt stronger, and able to remember all that had occurred, but raging thirst deveured him, He would have given the world, if he had had ‘it, for the smallest drink of water. The first object on which his eye rested was the hap- less negro, lying on the grass in a pool of crimson gore. “The wretches have murdered poor Monday,” he ex- claimed, with a cry of horror, “No, dey ain’t, Massa Jack, not jess yet,” replied the wounded man, faintly, as he opened his eyes, and looked up dimly at the sound of the well-known voice. “But you are bleeding,” said Jack, pityingly. “Yes, him tink him am,” was the reply; ‘‘him catch de bullet in him ribs somewheres; but neber mind that, How you do youself, Massa Jack?” “Dm all right, if I could only untie my arms and feet,” Jack replied, “Tank God for dat!” fervently exclaimed Monday. “Dis chile soon get you down.” ‘The staunch Limbian made an effort to riso. But the effort was in vain, and he sank down witha suppressed groan, “Tt no good, Massa Jack; him gotmore dan him can cary dis time,” And with thisfaint attempt at a joke, he felieack again upon the greensward insensible, Jack looked down upon his faithful friend, with intense cammiseration, It was the only thing he could do. **Poor Monday will die from loss of blood,” he mur- mured, anxiously, ‘“‘and I fastened up here like this. If I could only—” : He broke off suddenly, as a faint chirp caught his ear, It was the poor monkey, who was just beginning to have a dim sort of consciousness that he was alive. Presently he sat up and locked round him. Then he rubbed his head with his ‘paw. After which he shook i cpvobabiy to be sure his brains were still inside, Having done this, he threw several “somersaults and flipflaps. Atter which, having caught a flea, he seemed to be quite restored. Our hero watched his coming to with much interest, and then he cried: ‘Nero, old man, I am up here.” t Nero looked up at the bough with a lively chirp, and grinned and nodded as though he was. quite pleased to see his young master again, “Come UP, old fellow,” continued Jack, The monkey did not scamper away as he had done be- fore, but instantly swung himself up to the branch on which our hero lay extended, and sat looking at him se- riously. “Tm in a fix, old boy,” suid Jack tohis dumb com- panion, ‘‘and I want you to get me out of it.” As he spoke, he directed Nero’s attention, as well as he could, to his bound arms. ‘The monkey seemed to understand him perfectly. In an instant he was sitting astride his master, pi at the knots with all his might. Tn less than a minute our hero felt the pressure re- moved oe his arms, Nero had untied the napkin, and was hin, it — peel in his ent : Don Aang ack, having recovered the use of his hands, quickl oe out his knife and seyered the cords that bonne his eet, He was once more free. “Now for poor Monday,” he exclaimed, as he dropped from the branch. His limbs were so stiff and cramped from the long- continued pressure they had undergone that he could scarcely support himself. _ oa, It oes with difficulty he could even reach his wounded friend. But having done so, he knelt down and raised his head in his arms. ‘Monday, Monday, dear old fellow! speak to me,” en- treated young Jack. j The negro slowly opened his eyes, “Him can’t say noting, Massa Jack, now, but God bless you!” he gasped, faintly, and then closed his eyes ain, ; “What can I do for him?” thought our jhero. only had some water, or some rum.” i Monday caught the word, and he murmured, almost nm audibly: ame } “Rum—iilly drop.” Alas! there was neither one ner the other, and Jack was almost fainting for a draught himself. What was to be done? They were some distance from home, our hero not in very good walking condition, Monday unable to walk at all, Nero—the only one who seemed quite himself—-un- able to take a message, . “Help must be got somehow,” soliloquised Jack; “and yet, if I leave this poor.fellow in this state, he’ll bleed to ear before I could get back, and that would be horri- ble,” . As the only thing he could do, our hero endeavored to staunch the biood that oozed from Monday’s side with the napkin. sii it was soaked through and through in a few mo- ments. “I must chance it and go for help,” he exclaimed, des- perately, as he roge to his feet. ‘Come on, Nero; we must be quick,’* He took a few hasty steps, stopped, and returned, “Shall I go or stay?” he asked bimeelf, irresolutely, aa he looked down at the unconscious form. ba 6 de © | 800n have your third wife, aud that alone sko “Tf I go,” he meditated, ‘it may save his life; if I stay, he’s sure to die, My mind’s made up; I’ll go,” Our hero, having uttered these words, was about to depart, when, to his surprise, Monday checked him, “Don’t go, Massa Jack,” he said, faintly; “chim hear de sound ob footsteps coming.” Jack started at these words and looked anxiously around, ¥ If his enemies should be returning! But he neither saw nor heara anything, “I think you are mistaken, old fellow,” he said kindly. “No, him not, Masea Jack,” returned Monday, eonf- dently; ‘him know de steps.” The black’s acute ear, as he lay on the ground, had de- tected sounds at a distance, which to our hero’s less practised sense were perfectly inaudible. “You say you know the steps,” asked Jack, anxiously; “whose are they?” “Dey Sunday’s steps,” replied the negro. “Sunday? Hurrah!” cried our hero; “hurrah! Go and meet him, Nero,” He pointed as he ae and away started the monkey, Monday proved to be perfectly right. In less than two minutes the voice of the American was heard shouting: ‘ “Whar you two got to, eh? No good hiding out ob de way; dis chile sure to find you, yah, yah!” A few moments more, and Sunday, with Nero hop- ping along at his side, came in sight. Young Jack uttered a cry of joy, and rushed forward to meet him, : “Well, Massa Jack, how de big spree getting on, eh?” asked Sunday, with a broad grin on his black face, as they reached each other, “Big spree?” “Him mean de big spree you and Monday going te hab togeder, Am it ober yet?” - But the cheerful expression rapidly died out of his face as our hero replied, seriously: ‘Yes; the ‘big spree,’ as you call it, is all over, ret i unless you move yourself quickly, it’s very likely you’ i be just in 'time to come in at the death.” y “Death, massa” almost gasped Sunday, ‘Who going to die?” ‘Come and see,” replied young Jack, as he began to _ retrace his steps. : E Sunday followed, 2 A very few yards brought them to where the wounded — Monday was lying. 2 “There!” said our hero, as he pointed to him. ‘ _ “What—brudder Monday!” exclaimed the American, in remorseful accents, as he looked down upon his dis- abled comrade, ; The latter opened his eyes, feebly. It was too much for Sunday. He burst at once into a flood feel on his knees by his side. rt “Forgib me, mis’rable sinner dat I am,” he how) 4 lamentably; “forgib me for locking yah up in the ng cellar; him didn’t mean to do it, s’elp him golly, him | i : and looked up at him of penitential tears, and 7 didn’t,” r “T forgib yah,” murmured Monday, “Hab yah got 4 lilly drop ob rum?” “Him got quart bottle full indo basket,” returned Sunday’ hn The next moment the bottle was out and the mouth ap- plied to the lips of the wounded man, who sucked at it _ fs eg greedily, Tt seemed to agree with him very well, ; } “Have you any water in that basket?” asked our hero presently. ' Jack, replied Sunday, as he drew forth a “Lots, Massa ae ch x ur hero pounced upon it like a yo tiger, till he could drink ic ie er. tics yt We need not prolong this memorable scene. Wes ‘ Young Jack, with Sunday supporting our old frien Monday, reached the hotel late that night. ie hy, ; reed was at once put to bed, and his wounds at- | ended to, Ha ete There was no sleep for John Harkaway, senior that night when he heard the hair-breadth escape of his boy | from the two villains, Hunston and Toro, and drank . CHAPTER XV.; Tur day—tho ne} y day—was fixed. if ests Mr. Mole would have crept off to church on : extreme quiet, 3 Pa But Harvey would not hear of this, “No, no, Mr, Mole,” he said, “you have done a action; you have shown yourself superior to all weaknesses, and we are not going to sneak along | if we were doing domethide to be ashamed of. — ses have great courage,” 4

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HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. . “Of course,” replied Mr, Mole, “And we are proud of you,” “Are you?” “Yes, I think it isa noble actian; one to be proud of.” “Ts it?” “Undoubtedly, Mr. Mole,” added Harvey, with a look full of admiration at the tutor. “TI regard you as rey- arent folks must haye regarded the martyrs who sacri- ficed themselves at the stake for their principles.” Mr. Mole winced again, “You sacrifice yourself,” concluded Dick. “Don’t, Harvey, don’t.” “T won’t, if you wish it, but it’s true.” “You mean well and kindly, I kuow,” said Mr. Mole, “T do,” returned Dick. “Of course, but you have precious uncomfortable ways of expressing yourself at times,” “Dear me, I’m yery sorry to hear that, But you must get ready to meet the bride. Here’s your new coat.” “New coat!” ‘Yes, I ordered one for you, for I supposed that you wouldn’t care to be troubled by all these little details at such a time.” , When Mr. Mole caught sight of the garment, his riled belief in Dick Harvey’s seriousness was shat- red. **& bright blue coat with gilt buttons, and a green yel- vet collar!’ he said; “‘it’s a mistake,” “No,” returned Harvey, ‘‘for here’s the coat of yours I sent as the pattern garment, instead of bothering you to get measured.” “Do you want to make a laughing stock of me, Har- vey?” exclaimed Mr. Mole. “This is the latest fashion,” replied Harvey. “Why, it was getting old when I was a boy,” said Mole; “the people would take me for some antiquated old fool.” “Sirl?? “A second edition of Rip Van Winkle, who had been bexed up asleep for twenty years, while the world was going on.”” “Ave you aware, Mr, Mole,” said Harvey, in his most impressive manner, ‘‘that this was the fashion that the heir to the throne of Great Britain led at the last royal marriage in England?” “Nonsense!” “Tt is true,” Mr. Mole was silenced, and consented. The wedding favors were something to remember, be- ing of such abnormal proportions that they suggested reminiscences of the pantomime. Indeed they would haye done credit to Dyk Wynkyn, if devised for the nup- tial ceremony of King Uglimng the Oneth, or some such imaginary monarch, & All Dick’s eloquence was, however, thrown away when he-endeayored to persuade Mr. Mole to cut off the trouser which covered his wooden leg, and festoon the leg itself » with white satin ribbons, + Harkaway went to the wedding with Harvey in one _ carriage. Tn the next carriage followed the two gentlemen of color, tho Prince of Limbi, alias Monday, and Omsar Hannibal Augustus Constantine Jex, alias Sunday. ' Now, perhans of the whole party, it was Sunday who appeared to be the gayest. =, Indeed, he seemed to have some special und secret reasons for mirth, for he could with difficulty, repress a sort of incipient chuckle the whole morning through, ‘and in his efforts to drown the eachinnations, he nearly swallowed one of his Berlin gloves. The size being thirteens, this would have occasioned him some inconvenience, Following the two gentlemen of color was another car- riage—last, not least. In this vehicle sat young Jack and Nero. He had purposely taken the last carriage, in order that they might not see him bring Nero out. Nero was in gorgeous array. Young Jack had had a white satin waistcoat made for him on the sly, anda light blue coat, and a new cocked t. And what with his wedding favor, and a bouquet as large as a tea-tray, Nero was a very prominent feature in the procession, Let us hope that no young ladies will read this chap- ter, or we fear that we shall get severely handled by the fair critics, ¥; We have actually sketched roughly the appearance of the bridegroom and the wedding guests, even to Nero himself, and not a word has been said of the bride. _ The blushing bride! What would you say to learn that she looked the best of the party? Her wedding toilet had been the especial care of Emily and Hilda, and everything she wore was simple, elegant, and in good taste, There was the orthodox lace veil, which completely hid her dusky face from view; and as her figure was good, maany people who saw her envied Mr. Mole his bride. Well, they might do worse, for under her black skin there beat one of the warmest and most generous of hearts. The ceremony went off very satisfactorily, in spite of _ the presence of some high-spirited colored persons of tender years, who raised alaugh by their antics at a _ most inipressive moment during the service. _ . Monday was very fond of children, and he had a num- ber of infan pensioners, who joined the wedding party in church without receiving any special invite, _ One of these was a boy of ten years of age, who was a “most diverting young imp. His name was Pompey Ball. ‘ Master Pompey had two intimates with him of his own ip; Julius Smith and his brother Pete, etat nine; be- sides a little bright-faced negress named Prissy. _ Now this juvenile party appeared to be greatly di- : mirth took such a noisy form be told off to keep them in order, i that Sunday had to eK BN a tg Imitation is the highest flattery, it has been said. Surely, then, the wedding party must have felt high- ly flattered in this instance, when little Pompey»Ball per- formed in a comic manner the nuptial ceremony for Pete and little Prissy. Pompey’s mimicry of the clergyman was perfect and little Pete stood on one leg, holding a stick (to resemble Mr. Mole’s wooden leg) with one hand, while he gave the otber to Prissy, who looked as demure as a bride should, Sunday was mightily tickled, but he pretended not to ob- serve it until Julius, who could not restrain his laughter, burst into a loud guffaw that startled the whole party. “How dare you, you imperent critters!” said Sunday, suddenly appeariz to be outraged: ‘‘take dat.” And he floored Master Julius with a slap on the head. And this abruptly ended the little negro’s funny mim- iery of Mr. Mols’s nuptials, Soon after Mr. Mole with his friends left the church, with his third black wife lovingly at his side, looking down with a smile of admiration at his wooden leg, young Jack having, unknown to Mr. Mole, turned up his trousers, and brought to view the wooden leg, bound round with white satin ribbons. : The party had not got far on their journey home be- fore young Jack shouted: “Tockout, Nero is after you,” The next moment the monkey came dasiming full tilt at Mr. Mole. Mr, Mole, hearing the shouts, turned round as quickly as any man could who had a wooden ieg on one side of his body and a dusky bride on the other. Nero was close upon him, and evidently mistook Mr. Mole’s sudden turn for a hostile movement, So, being nable to stop himself, the artful animal suddenly darted between the bridegroom’s real leg and his wooden substitute, intending by this method to get behind his enemy. . But Nero rose too suddenly, and the consequence was that Mr. Mole was thrown off his balance and on his back. “Murder!” screamed the professor; “take the savage brute away. It is trying to steal my wooden leg.” “You had better get up and fight, Mr. Mole,” said young Jacl, ‘‘or Nero will run away with Mrs. Mole.” But Nero, however, was busy. The gay ribbon with which Mr. Mole’s timber prop had been decorated caught the animal’s attention, and he resolved to secure itas a eee of victory. Nero’s fingers or claws quickly untied the knot, and then, with a shrill squeal of triumph, he danced round his fallen foe, waving the bit of silk in the air, and fin- antag by hugging the bride as though be meant kissing er. Some of the others, who were getting rather anxious about the matter of refreshments, deemed it time to in- terfere, s0 Mr. Mole was at once set up on his feet. Nero would not part withthe ribbon, which he fast- ened round his own leg, and, thus decorated, followed the bridal procession. And when they were safe home, there was the wed- ding breakfast and the speeches, which was the occa- sion for Mr. Mole to distinguish himself, which he did, On this one occasion, however, Mr. Mole was compara- tively moderate in his cups, and when the rest were at the Belge of their merriment he quietly withdrew with his ride, — CHAPTER XVI, THE DUEL—MR. MOLE TO THE RESCUE, Berween the darkies Sunday and Monday there really existed a very strong feeling of affection, but which, however, they had their own peculiar manner of exhibiting. Their attachment partook somewhat of the cat and dog quality. Like those interesting domestic animals they were sometimes all fun and frolic one with the other. At others they might be seen snapping and snarling, as though they were going to bite off each other’s noses. One morning they had got into one of their arguments, aS ie time it was neither one of nationality nor of politics. It was entirely a personal matter, / The question started being: Which of the two had rendered the most signal service on the eventful day when the “big spree” came off in the wood? Monday declared “the had all to nuffin,” Sunday protested that ‘what he did licked Monday holler.” It seemed likely to prove a stiffish subject. Our hero came up almost at the commencement of the discussion. “Ah, here Massa Jack,” cried Monday’ ‘the settle de matter off hand.” “Ob course he will,” exclaimed Sunday; Massa Jack?” ‘ “Certainly I will,” Jack replied; ‘what is it?” “We want to know who war the bess man on de day we had big fight in de wood,” exclaimed Monday, “T war,” cried Sunday. | “No, I war,” insisted Monday; ‘‘warn’t I, Massa Jack?” “You were laugh. ; “No, dat not right, Massa Jack,” returned Monday, shaking his head profoundly; ‘can’t both be bess; one must be better dan de oder,” “Ob course,” exclaimed Sunday, triumphantly, stick- ing out his chest; ‘‘dat me;l’m de one. ’Merican niggar lick all do oder niggers in creation into fits.” ; “No, you jess wrong; you de oder.” “Boo!” “Yah!” x A’ this point of the argument the two disputants craned their necks till their noses touched, and made “won't you, both the best,” answered our hero, with a verted by the sight of the bridegroom’s timber toe, and | horrible grimaces at each other, “What you mean let dose men catch hold and nearly kill Massa Jack, eh?” demanded Sunday atlength, — ‘Dat your fault altogether, you black tief!” answered, Monday. “Tt dam lie, it yours, sar.” “How you make dat out, sar?” “You ought to have looked arter him,” “Stop aminit, dar; didn’t you lock dis child up in de coal cellar? Answer dat.” “Well, what if him did?” “Why, how de debbil could him look arter Massa Jack same time him locked up in de coal cellar,you big pump?” Monday chuckled intensely as he put this perplexing question, His opponent, not being prepared with an answer, did not attempt any. He only growled: ‘De coal cellar de bess place for ugly black nigger like you; if you stop dere you’d not been shot.” “Tf this child bin ‘longside Massa Jack, he not been tied up by de heels,” retorted Monday. “Bah! you no good! What you done when you lie on your back with your big mouth open, if I no gib you de rum, eh?” “Him done widout, you ugly nigger.” “How you get out ob the wood if this child not carry you home on him back?” «Him stop where him was, of course,” replied Monday. “And kick de bucket,” sneered Sunday. ‘Him kick youin a minit, if: you talk like dat,” ex~ claimed Monday, irritably. “Kick me, you ugly black pudd‘n?”? “Yes, kick you, you imperent tief!” “What you mean call dis child imperent tief, eh, sar?” “What you mean, call me ugly black pudd’n, eh, sar?” “Bah y “Boo!” Once more the irritated negroes grinned in each oth, er’s faces, Young Jack came between them. “You’re a long time settling this matter,” he said. “Dat dam niggar dere insult me, Massa Jack,” ex claimed Monday vehemently, as he pointed to his com- rade, “So he did,” assented our hero; ‘I’m a witness.” ‘Dat dam niggar dere insult me too,” cried Sunday, with equal intensity, pointing in his turn. “No doubt of it,” admitted the young referee, ‘I’m a witness to that also. You have both grossly insulted each other.” At this consoling piece of information the disputants ground their teeth and growled at each other. > “There’s only one thing to be dene to make things straight,” continued our hero in a magesterial manner, *War dat, Massa Jack?” asked his sable listeners, eagerly, “You must have satisfaction,” said Jack seriously. “Tat’s it; hab sat’misfacshun,” echoed the niggers, “(Call each other out.” “Dat de sort; call each oder out.” “Fight a duel!’ “Golly! dat proper! Fight um doo-el,” exclaimed the enthusiastic opponents, “With pistols.” i “Wid pistols.” “Gorra, yes, loaded.” “To the muzzle!” “Of course; to de muzzle.” “With powder and bullets.” “Dat de sort, powder and lots of bullets.” * “Then, when youtve blown each other to bits,’ you'll be satisfied, said our hero rather solemnly. “Perfec’ly, Massa Jack,” replied Sunday, “Yes, Massa Jack, when we hab blown each other to bits we shal] be satisfied,” cried Monday, “But whar de poppers to come from?’ , “and de powder and de bullets?” joined in Sunday. “T’l] provide everything,” replied Jack. ‘‘In an hour’s time all will be ready. Meet me on this spot.” With these words they parted. The two antagonists exulting in of annihilating each other, t Young Jack rejoicing in the prospect of the fun he was going to have. Our hero commenced his preparations by borrowing, (without asking, by-the-by,) a spendid pair of his dad’s six-barrelled revolvers. Together with a powder-flask, anda bag in which to hold the bullets and a box of caps, y He then procured a coupleof bullock’s bladders, inte each of which he put a handful of peas to make them rattle well, and a quantity of flour—to add to the general effect in the eyent of their bursting. These he inflated, and having tied them on to the ends: of two sticks, he gave them a coating of black lead. Next he mixed some dough, and made a quantity of bullets out of this material, which he baked on the hob, giving each one a rub with the black lead to give it a natural appearance, His warlike preparations being complete, his active: the joyful anticipation mind suggested a plan by which his worthy tutor, Mr. Mole, should participate in the coming entertainment. He accordingly sat down and wrote as follows: «“‘Wednesday, 11 o’clock a, m. ‘Dear Mr, Motx,—I write in a terrible state of alarm to tell you that Sunday and Monday have had a dreadfui quarrel, and are going to fight a duel. I have tried all T could to stop them, but they won’t be stopped. They are both like savage tigers thirsting for each other’s blood! As soon as you have read this, run (Jack, know- ing how good Mr, Mole was on his wooden pin, chuckled intensely as he wrote this) as fast as you can to Orack- shaw’s Field, where you will find them firing away at one another, Your influence alone can stop this dread- ful affair of blood. : “Yours in great anxiety, “To Isaac MoLE, Es.” Haying sealed the note and left directions that it should be given to Mr, Mole when he came in from his. peo walk, our hero went to look for the bdiligerent a 78, * ee “TAOK, &

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HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. He found them all ready. > Polished up and dressed in their best. Their ebony faces glistened with delight at the pep- pering they fondly hoped they were going to give each other. Forgetting that they were very likely to be peppered themselves at the same time. As soon as their young master appeared they rushed to him. “Am you got de poppers, Massa Jack?” they asked, eagerly. 4 *t Cevtainly,” replied our hero; “and a splendid pair they are, too. Look!” As he spoke, he opened the leather case that contained them, and revealed them to Sunday and Monday. The eyes of the darkies glistened. Their mouths fairly watered at the sight. “Dey am beauties! Dere no mistake ‘bout dem,” they exclaimed with intense admiration. **Yes,” said Jack and there’s no mistake about the way im which they do their work either.” “Dey got six barrels apiece, too,” chuckled Monday; *fdat capital!” ‘ “Rather,” grinned Jack; “by the time you’ve fired a few rounds at one another, you'll both be as full of holes as the top ofa er box.” Sitar and Tronday did not seem quite as rapturous as they might have been at the idea of this wholesale system of ventilation. vThey scratched their woolly heads, looked first at their young master, who was whistling ‘‘Pop Goes the Weasel” yery unconcernedly, and then at each other. “Oh, golly!” thought Sunday, ‘if old Monday kill dis child, him not hab any more rum.” Monday was also in deep thought. He was thinking, if Sunday shot him, he might make love to his wife Ada, and our old friend Monday did not relish the idea. In fact, the thought was beginning that they had been alittle rash, __ Perhaps Monday recollected the one bullet he had had extracted from his body. If one bullet was so painful, what would a dozen or two be? Monday did not feel happy. But there was no time for reflection. “(Tt’s time to start,” cried Jack, And away they went, but walked very slowly. to dawn upon them * * * * ° * * Sunday and Monday recovered their spirits during the journey. They had snarled at each{other all the way as they went, and by the time they arrived at the scene of operations, they had almost reached their former state of ferocious enthusiasm, : 2 Kivery unpleasant allusion to the “tops of pepper boxes” ‘ was forgotten, and they were only anxious to commence _ proceedings. 4 “We quite ready, Massa Jack,” they said to our hero. *‘’m not, ? replied the latter; “‘before you can use the revolvers effectually, it is necessary that they should be loaded; and understand, gentlemen, they must be loaded with bullets. “Certainly, Massa Jack,” admitted the duellists. ’. Jack did not hurry himself over this opperation. He wished to lose as much time as possible, in order to give his respected tutor time to arrive just in the middle of the fun, Consequently, he performed his task deliberately, the two anxious combatants watching him all the while with much interest. “Dere go de powder,” soliloquised Monday, as Jack poe the proper quantity of the combustive material to each barrel, “One, two, three, four, five, six; dat jess de number.” “Dere go de crushing caps,” Monday continued, mean- ing reussing caps. . ‘Am all de leaden pills in?” murmured Sunday, as he watched.his young master produce the bag containing the dough bullets, ‘How many of these would you like in each?” asked Jack, as he shook a handfal out of the bag. The duellists reflected a moment, They seemed very undecided on this point. Jack came to their assistance. **You can have any egveees dese like. ie he said, sug- atively; ‘‘one, two, or three; only say. vic ees Fe you tink, Massa Jack?” asked Monday at Jength. “Nay, it’s for you to decide upon that,” Jack replied with a smile. , i “How mapy you hab yourself if you war gwine to jine in this noble fight?” inquired Sunday of his young master. “That all depends where you Jet me havethem, I should say three in the head would be enough,”’ said young Jack?” “Tree in your head, eh, Masea Jack?” echoed Monday, - artes tone. ‘Tree in each barrel, you mean, “Of course, Will that number suit you?” “*What you tink, ole double smut?” Monday asked of his opponent. ‘Tree be enough in each barrel?” ‘Him tink three quite enough,” growled the latter in _reply. Pitti think so himseif,” muttered Monday, t “Then yon settie upon three?” asked Jack, “Yes.” \ Our hero had now to perform fa little feat of legerde- main. He carefully counted out the fictitious bullets in threes, and pretended to place them in the barrels; but, instead of doing 80, he slipped them into his palm. The lookers-on, however, did not detect this, After the ramming-down was completed, Jack looked . aaxious across the field, hoping to catch a glimpse of the energetic Mole hurring down tothe scene of slaughter, No signs, however, of the preceptor appearing, he approached the combats, / “‘Here are your weapons,” he said, as he placed the re- volers in their hands. “Tank you, Massa Jack.” “Berry much "bliged, Massa Jack,” they exclaimed, each shutting one eye, and trying ,to squint down the bec teahem x i ut our hero had stuffed a piece of paper in the en and they could see nothing. 2 ig “Gorral” murmured the darkies, “dey loaded right bang slap up to de muzzle,” “That's a fact,” returned Jack, with a cheerful Jaugh. “Don’t look down the barrels, please,” he added, in a tone of precaution; “if one happened to go off, the con- sequences might be serious; one charge is enough to blow your head off.” “Golly, yes, um tink so,” exclaimed the sable, aliering tho positions of their weapons in double quick time. “Well, now, I think we’re all ready,’ said our hero. “You'd better take your places.” “‘Whar we go to, Massa Jack?” they asked. “T’ll show. you,” answered the latter, as he placed them back; ‘but first I must ask you if you have considered where you would each like to be buried,” “No, Massa Jaek, we hab not.” “That is very forgetful on your part,” said Jack. “But have you ordered coffins for yourselves?” “‘Qoffins, sar?” cried Monday and Sunday, in a breath. “We don’t want no coffins; we only want to fight like gentlemen,” “Very well, Now you'll walk away from each other as many paces as you like, and then stop,” said our hero, Away walked the darkies rapidly. From the eagerness of their manner, and the tremen- dous strides they took, it seemed as though they were determined to get as far as they could from each other. Young Jack stood shaking with laughter at seeing the niggers getting so far from each other. At length, as they kept walking and walking on with- out evincing the least intention of coming to a halt, he bawied: “‘Hollo! how many miles are you going before you stop?” “Um didn’t know we got to stop,” they bawled back, s ee yes, you ought to have stopped long ago. Come ack, They returned, and stood back to back, as before. “Now start again. Count six paces, and then stop.” They took # timid glance at each other’s pistols, and off they went. “One, two, tree, seben, nine, six,”’ they counted. Perhaps it was excitement made them a little erratic in their numeration, “Stop! That will do very well,” remarked Jack, scarcely able to control his mirth, “Golly, massa,” murmured Sunday, as he glanced over his shoulder at his opponent, who seemed to him un- pleasantly near, “de distance berry short’? — “Short! exclaimed our hero; “that’s the proper dis- tance, What's the use of firing at each other a mile off? There’s no fun in it at all,” “But dis rader too near, Massa Jack, don’t you think so?” continued Sunday, ‘““Specially as de por rs got three dozen bullets in each barrel,” urged Monday, “Only three, you donkey, not three dozen,” corrected Jack; “but there,’ he added, “if you’re afraid, you can take two steps more, but not another inch.” ‘Dis child not fraid,” returned Monday, indignantly. But they both availed themselves of their young mas- ter’s amps and took two more strides, good long ones, too, Now, then, are you ready?” cried Jack, - “Tss, massa.” “Listen to me, then,” continued our hero, in an au- thoritative tone, “Tss, Massa Jack,” a will please remember your weapons have six bar- rels, “Tss, Massa Jack,” “Hach of which contains three bullots. “Iss, Massa Jack,” was the somewhat shaky veply. “Oonsequently,” our hero went on, you will have six shots, and discharge eighteen bullets in the first round.” “When we begin to pop?” asked Sunday, nervously, “When I give thé signal, you must take steady aim at each other’s heads,’* Jack replied; “and I want you to be very particular about that,” “Tss, Massa Jack,” responded the tyros. “What am de signal?” “The signal I shall give you,” said our hero, very em- phatically, ‘‘will be ‘Knock ’em both down, Mr. Mole.’ Can you recollect that?” “Certainly um can,” replied the darkies, in consider- able perturbation of ideas. “ ’Knock down Massa Mole,’ ” “No, no,” laughed Jack. ‘’Knock’em both down. Mr. Mole.” ‘ : “Ah, iss. “Knock ’em bote down, Massa Mole,”’’ re- peated the belligerents. That’s it,” returned our hero, “don’t forget that. When- ever you hear me say these words, fire away as hard as | you can till I ery ‘stop!’” There was a dead silence for a moment, “Attention, ready!” said Jack, “All—right—Massa Jack,” stammered the bloodthirsty duellists, Another slight pause, and then—the signal, “Knock ’em both down, Mr, Mole,” shouted our hero. Both the combatants shut their eyes simultaneously. Up went their two arms in the air with the revolvers at the end of them. Both oo the triggers. But there was no report, Gee a hollo!” cried Jack, ‘‘what’s the meaning of at “Um tink dere someting de matter wid de poppers,” said pad combatants, opening their eyes in astonish- men ; | ‘Let me see,” said our hero, rather impatiently, as he stepped forward, “Why, you've neither of you cocked your weapons,” he exclaimed. : “No more 'em hab,” admitted the duelists. “Don’t forget that again if you please,” enjoined Jack, rather sternly; “it’s important.” “No, massa, um sure not to forget,” they replied, as they pulled back the hammers of the revolvers, “Now, then, once more—ready! Knock ’em both riba Mr. Mole,” shouted our hero, for the second time. The same process was repeated as before. The duelists shut their eyes, raised their revolvers, and then pulled the triggers. This time they went off. Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang! “Golly, dey beginning to go now anyhow,” muttered the combatants, as they fired right up in the air. Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang! At the two last reports our hero, who was prepared, let fly a handful of the dough bullets he had made at the heads of the duelists. The miniature dumplings came with a sharp, stinging sensation against their foreheads, The effect was electric. : “Oh, gorry mussy, him brains blowed out!” yelled Sunday, as his legs gave way under him amd he rolledon the grass. “Dat nigger got no brains to blow out,” laughed Mon- ay. Jack, feeling inclined to burst with laughter, walked forward, and picking up the revolvers, began coolly to reload them, % During this operation the wounded heroes ceased their lamentations, and sitting upon the grass, contemplated one another rather curiously. They had certainly felt the bullets strike them. Yet there was no blood to be seen, and the momentary sting had passed away. “How you feel, broder smut?” asked Monday at length of his comrade, “Him don’t feel much de wns, ole son,” Sunday an- swered. ‘How you feel yourself?” “Him feel jess de same as you feel,” Monday replied. “Rather faint, eh?” said Jack, cheerfully, as he came up to them, ‘That’s nothing, considering you've got a _ couple of bullets in each of your skulls,” “Golly, massa Jack!” they gasped, putting up their hands together and instituting a vigorous search on their frontal regions, “Um don’t length. “No, the bullets have stopped them up,” replied our hero. ‘You're all right for another Sone Here, catch hold of your shooters,” The combative pair looked rather dismayed as Jack thrust the weapons into their hands, but they were ashamed to decline them, “Now then,” cried our hero; “time! Up with you, and remember, when I give the signal again, don’t shu’ your eyes, and fire at each other instead of in the air.” The combatants again took their places, Jack was about to give his signal, Suddenly a voice was heard shouting in the distance: “Stop the duel; stop it—itis murder, I forbid it.” It was Mr, Mole, who was seudding along with allsails set towards the scene of action, his hat stuck on the back of his head, and his coat tails flying behind him. “Stop, stop!” be cried, as he came waddling up to the spot, puffing and siden 3 like an asthmatic old goose. “TI can’t allow murder to be done; it’s against the law,” he gasped, as he rushed between the combatants, “Put down your deadly weapons, you benighted sava- ges,” he continued, excitedly, - “Um shan’t do nothing ob de sort, Massa Mole,” re- turned Monday. “You won’t?” shrieked Mole. “No, um won’t, um see yah blowed fuss, Get out ob the way, and let us go on wid de shooting.” But the noble-minded Isaac would not get out of the way, “T see that nothing but strong moral influence will do here,” he muttered to himself. Then addressing himself once more to the refractory niggers, he continued y ‘My poor omusguided friends hear me, Listen, you smutty-faced vil—no, I mean my dearly-beloved breth’ Tinsist on your putting an end to to this-unna strife,” “If you don’t stand out ob de way, Massa Mole, um put an end to yo, 8’elp um golly, um will,” growled Sunday “Pray retire, Mr. Mole,” pleaded Jack, in a tone of intense anxiety; ‘‘don’t endanger yourself.” “No, my dear pupil,” returned the pious Isaac, fi “never will I shrink from my duty, No; they may me, but I will not stand by and see murder done.” “But consider your precious life,” entreated our hero, with tears of irrepressible mirth in his eyes; ‘do, pray consider your precious life; consider your young and lovely wife.” feel no holes,” remarked Mondfy, at But the noble-minded man, with Spartan firmness, — refused to consider anything. cried Jack to the negroes, inan assumed tone of strong indignation, but feeling, at the same time inclined te burst with laughter; “if I was Mr. Mole, I’d let you — imow who I was.” “So I will,” exclaimed that heroic individual, as he drew off his coat, and proceeded to tuck up his ; “Pl let °em know who I am.” “Thats right,” cried Jack, encouragingly, as he shook ‘into hig a handful of the dough bullets out of the alm. ui And then he shouted enthusiastically: “Knock ’em down, Mr. Mole.” 2 “Dat de signal.” muttered the darkies, who began instantly to fire away. Bang, bang, went the revolvers in the most lively man- _ ner possible, : i Mig Whizz went a shower of small dumplings from Jack’ hand in the face of the bewildered Mole, who, fully be- lieving he was shot, clapped his hands over his eyes, roaring with all his might: : “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, you two,” 7 :

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HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. “Oh, murder, murder!” Jack, to add to the fun of the fight, fired a pistol close to Mr. Mole’s ear, and just at the same moment the monkey started forward, Bang, barg. “Pm being assassinated!” yelled Mole, falling, . Bang, bang. ‘“‘Murder!” Bang, bang, and another shower of dough from Jack. Down went Mr, Mole to the ground, “Pm a murdered man, I’m a corpse. What will Mrs. ole do without her Mole?” he groaned, “She do bery well,” shouted Sunday. Jack rushed up eagerly to his preceptor. “Are you hurt much, sir?” he asked, “Hurt much??? wailed the unhappy sufferer. “I’m mortally wounded; about twenty shots in my head. Can’t you see that?” “Oh, dear, where—in your head?” inquired our hero, in a tone of well-assumed horror, ; “T don’t know,” gasped Mr. Mole; ‘‘everywhere. Oh, oh! my life-blood’s ebbing away rapidly; I feel it is; send for the doctor.” 7 ‘ Mr. Mole was carried by the two negroes to a little dis- tance, and placed with his back against a tree, moaning piteously. “J don’t see any blood, sir,” said Jack, presently. “I’m bleeding inwardly,” gurgled the tutor, in a hol- low tone; ‘my end is fast approaching.” “Tt will be a great comfort to you, sir, to reflect that you died in the cause of duty,” remarked our hero, soothingly. ‘ I Mr. Mola made a very wry face at this consoling sug- gestion. “J don’t see it in that light atall,” he replied, dole- fully; “I’ve no wish to die just at present, and—and I have only been married to my third wife a few days.” He stopped suddenly, and pulled Jack down close to “Have the goodness to put your hand into the right posket of my coat tail,” he whispered to him faintly; *you’ll find a—a—”* “Wound, sir?” “No; a small flask of ram. I think a little will revive me.” _ The flask was speedily produced, and placed to Mr. Mole’s ape f Whil. he was drinking, a fresh outbreak took place, Sunday and Monday, having exhausted all their am- munition, and not being able to fire at each other any more, had opened the bag in. which our hero had se- ereted the bladders and sticks. . These they had Prongne forth, and were banging one _ another.about the head and face to their heart’s con- ‘tent, “Do'you see that, Mr, mole?” cried Jack, with pre- tended indignation, “Look at those fellows,” The tutor looked. 4 “Unfeeling wretches,” he murmured. “Still engaged in a sanguinary conflict; at this awful moment, too.” ‘ ‘Yes, sir,” Jack replied. _ “What are they fighting with?” demanded Mr, Mole, who was considerably mystified by the peculiarity of the weapons and the strange rattling noise they made. “Pwo war clubs, of the wild tribe of the copper col- ered Crackskulls,” explained our hero, very seriously. “Never heard of cag Sea abslely the preceptor, as he took a pull at his rum : ey) "4 “phere'll be more murder done, I’m afraid,” continued dack, apprehensively, as the bladders and the peas rat- tled away onthe heads and noses of the combatants, “Couldn’t you use your influence, sir, to stop that dread- - ful fight?” he asked, in a tone of earnest entreaty. ‘‘It would be.a noble act for your last,”’ _ The expiring Mole turned up his eyes, and the rum, bottle at the same time to his lips, and emptied it. ‘Then he replied, magnanimously: “Yes, it would be a noble act; an act worthy of a man and a brother, I will doit, Be kind enough to help me 2? Jack set him on his legs, which the rum had made rather unsteady, and the large-hearted Mr, Mole set off ima very zigzag fashion towards the combatants, - &Dark-skinned sons of the —hic— tropics,” he ex- claimed, solemnly, as he reached them, “forbear! Isaac | Mole stands before you.” | The tropical individuals took no notice whatever of the grand appeal, being far too deeply engrossed in their in- eresting amusement. Bang, rattle, went the bladders on the heads of the ers. Mr. Mole began to feel his great soul stirred within _ “Desist, sanguinary monsters, I—hic—command ye!” he continued, energetically. "Still not the slightest attention was paid to Mole. Bang, rattle—rattle, bang, responded the bladders on heads of Sunday and Monday. _ At length Mole’s patience was exhausted, and taking a good aim, he rushed in between them. _ -“Block-headed pigs!” he shouted; “lay down your ~apons! in the name of the great American Republic, order you to—” Bang, rattle, on Mr, Mole’s head, ‘Wretches!” 7, bang. on Mr. Mole’s nose, of the up’ ‘I shal RS ta looking like the ghost of a generied clown, and firmly impressed with the idea that his brains had been knocked out by the war clubs of the copper-coloured Crackskulls. Jack, almost in convulsions of laughter, which he was obliged to control the best way he could, rushed to assist his respected tutor. It was some time before he could convince him that he was not mortally wounded, But having at length succeeded in impressing him with this conviction, Mole was hoisted once more on to his legs. Sunday and Monday had aiready shaken hands, and made up their quarrel; and at our hero’s sxggestion, they apologised very humbly to the discomfited Mole. This soothed his ruffled feelings considerably, ar find- ing another flask of rum in the left pocket of his tail coat, he speedily grew very hilarious, insisting upon riding home on Monday’s shoulders, singing as he went, ina somewhat inebriate and disreputable manner: “For we are jolly good—hic—fellows, And so say all of us,” The niggers and young Jack joined in chorus, and all went well until Monday, getting a little excited, stumbled over his comrade’s foot, and pitehed the jovial Mole off his perch head first into a ditch, The ditch har go op of water, but the worthy tutor was dragged out by his boots before he had swallowed a couple of quarts, But it stopped his singing for that day, and when he reached the hotel, he was glad to sneak in by the back way, and up stairs to his room as quietly as possible. Having reached this, he went at once to bed, ordered hot water bottles to his feet, and drank rum and water till further notice, to neutralize the effect of his immer- sion in the ditch, Young Jack detailed the whole affair to his father, who could not help laughing heartily at the recital, apes, re at the same time, he shook his head reprovingly at his mischief-loving offspring. “Never mind, dad,” was the excuse he received; “I only do as you did when you were a boy.” CHAPTER XVIL, Tue Bowery gang had not yet get clear from the de+ tectives. Toro and Hunston were still prowling about disguised, watching the movements of Harkaway and Harvey, and waiting to see the result of what they thought young Jack’s cruel death. The ‘‘Independence,” the ship they intended sailing off in, had not yet weighed anchor, They were waiting for one more hand to make up the crew. ‘This hand was not a professional sailor. ‘There was, however, a weighty reason for waiting for this hand, Several of the crew who had influence with Clemmans, the captain of the ship, had persuaded him to wait for this passenger. It was altogether a strangely-mixed erew that served on board the “Independence,” and Captain Clemmans cared not for testimonials of honesty and good conduct; he only,wanted their credentials to speak for their daring and bravery. ’ ‘The missing man that they were waiting for answered thoroughly well all these requirements, The influential members of the crew were Hunston and ‘Toro, and their worthy companions from the den in the Bowery. The man that they were waiting for was Robert Em- merson, Delays, however, were dangerous. They little thought how great that danger was, There was, however, a certain clannish bond between those lawless men; and, althongh they would one and all have felt infinitely easier in their minds out at sea, they could not endure the idea of weighing anchor while Pro- tean Bob was absent, Could they have known anything about him it would have sufficed. But, as it was, they only knew that Robert Emmerson had slunk out of their den one night, bound upon a for- aging expedition in their service, and that he had not re- turned. They thought it very likely that he had come to grief in their service. i They had the greatest confidence in Protean Bob’s powers, but this long-continued silence thoroughly alarmed all of them. So Hunston and Toro resolved to go ashore disguised in search of him. They knew thoroughly well the haunts he used. At any rate, they thought they would be likely to learn some news of their daring and adventurous com- rade, f With this PAS they came ashore separately, and made by different routes for a meeting place agreed upon beforehand, This meeting place was a low drinking bar, frequented by some of the roughest characters, While here they got into a dispute with a queer, hulk- ing-looking fellow, who was apparently a freshly-landed emigrant in search of employment, and so hot grew the discussion that it looked as though they were coming to blows, The fellow had got a precious ugly look, and, although he said little, they were on their guard against accidents when they saw ut his hand behind him, as though he were about to whip out a bowie or asix-shooter. Whether it wasthat cantankerous fellow was not pleased with the chance of an encounter with a man of Toro’s build, or whether it was that he did not like the idea of tackling two of them, we cannot say. Certain it is that he slunk out of the bar without a | word, \3 1 ? “He’s an ovil-eyed cuss,” remarked a stranger ca- echt hs y ; ; an vis ' j “ ‘More brag than breeches,” remarked another, Just then back eame the quarelsome emigrant, and, stooping, he picked up a paper at Hunston’s feet, “You dropped this,” he said. And once more he vanished. Hunston turnedthe paper over and over in his hand. “TI don’t think I did,” he said. And then he was about to throw it away, when 4 scrap of writing on it caught his eye, This was the scrap: * “Tt is imprudent to lose your temper ina bar. Keep down your bile till you reach the corner of Canal Street, where a friend may accost you.” Hunston changed color, What could it mean? He consulted with Toro about it. “The writer of that letter knows us,” said Toro at once, “Do you think so?” “T am sure,” “Tt certainly looks like it,” said Hunston, thoughtfully. “It is assure as we are here,” said Toro; “how can: yon doubt it for an instant?” ‘Who do you think it comes from, then?” asked the» other, ‘Friend or foe?” “Friend, most likely,” replied the giant, after a mo- ment’s consideration, : “Why a friend?” “Foe can only point to Pike and Nabbit.” “Granted*” ; “They would never write so as to put us upon our guard,” remarked Toro. True, ” Talking it over in this way, they wandered ont of the drinking bar and on through the streets, until they ¢ame to Canal Street. The part at this precise moment was quite deserted. But not for long. n They had, in fact been scarcely five minutes there when the seedy looking loafer from whom they had re- ceived the letter came up. gs 4 eyed him suspiciously at first, and both ‘ep their hands in their pockets, holding tightly by ; deadly weapons they carried, ready for any emergency. The manner of this seedy personage was, however, Need different now from what it had been at the drinking ar, There it had been cringing and insolent by turns, Here it was neither one nor the other. A quick glance about him on all sides satisfied him apparently that they were unobserved, Tnen, in a low but animated voice, he said: “‘Hunston—Toro! What, forgotten! and so soon?” The man’s manuer startled them considerably, “Who are you?” ’ “‘Can’t you guess?” he replied, with a laugh. “What are you fooling for?” exclaimed the Italian, im. patiently. ‘Why beat about the bush so?” The stranger laughed at this outburst. It needed little to raise the ire of the fierce Italian, as you know, and in an instant he had whipped out his re-; volver and presented it at the mysterious one’s head, with a loud imprecation, “Speak! ’ Hunuston knocked up his hand comtemptuously. “Don’t bea fool, Toro. What good can that do?” “What indeed?” added the stranger, laughing still am + the most proyoking manner. “Speak, then!’ “No threats.” “We don’t wish to threaten you,” said Hunston, “Indeed, But it looks remarkably like it.” “Take no notice of that, then, but say who you are?” , “T will not.” _ Out came Toro’s pistol again, “Judge for yourselves,” continued the stranger, »e- moving his hat. And then, in an instant, to their intense surprise, they sepenaed Robert Emmerson—so aptly named Protean Yes, there was no mistaking his identity now. But how changed he was, How pale—how wanand haggard he had become im those few days. 4 And small wonder. He had been skulking about, afraid to show himeelf im daylight in spite of his aptitude in disguising himself, se fatatly hot had the pursuit of him become, : Perpetually worried and harassed, he had grown to be afraid of his own shadow. In every street he met the officers of the law upon the hunt; in every house where he had been kno and where he could have obtained assistance, he found sus- picious-looking men hanging about on the watch. Matters, indeed, had reached such an alarming piteh with him that he was fearful of buying food ‘with, the money he had plundered from the murdered Garcia, and thus, with a small fortune upon his person, he had. actually felt the pangs of hunger. r Saul eee the murdered Jew, was already partly avenged. Aye, and Garcia’s friend Sol, the Jew, and the mur~ dered London detective, Nabley’s brother, all slain by ' Emmerson, were yet to be bitterly avenged. “Emmerson!” ¢ “Bob!” Such were their exclamations on recognizing their infamous associate, “Hush!” $ ' “What now?” ‘Don’t bawl my name about so,” said Emmersaur, arenes, My life, i tell you, is a misery 0 ag ‘ at.” ’ $ N PVE AN

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HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND, 15 wish,” he added, with a despairing look, “I wiah I was dead and buried,” His comrades in villany looked at each other in mute surprise, } They could not believe that Robert Emmerson was afflicted by anything like remorse. Still less could they regard him as a man who was scared by fear to such a miserable state of irritation and nervousness. Yet such was the case, The wretched man, his hands yet resking with mur- der, had spoken his real sentiments, without a word of exaggeration, in saying that he wished himself dead and buried. His life was indeed « misery to him now. There was no rest for him in mind or body, Emmerson was a haunted man. By day he skulked and hid away in mortal dread of being seen; by night he dreamt, when he had the good fortune to sleep, and dreamt horribly of how the old Jew fought for his life. His visions were always the same. i rnally he was back with his struggling victim, en- acting that horrible death fight, going through every part of that hideous tragedy, in which every detail was presented before his fevered brain with a vividness and reality that were appalling. Was not Saul Garcia, then, already avenged on his murderer, “How did you get away?’, he asked presently, “By digging upwards,” was Hunston’s reply, Upwards!” Yeu.? “How?” They explained then what they had done, and went into their adventures generally with The Bowery gang. “In the house above,” said Hunston, ‘we came across Captain Clemmans—” “Was he living there?” *Ves,”” “Confound it! If T had only known that, what a deal of trouble I might have saved.” “Well, the skipper is a decent sort of fellow.” “A bold man,” said Toro, which was the highest praise that he could award any one, fe is that.” *tYes,” said Hunston, “and we are only waiting to get off—so you can guess the result,” “T can,” “We man his ship,” “And did you all get clean off?” ‘Yes, through the secret way Clemmans took us,” “Where are the others?” “On board.” “When do you start?” “As soon as our crew js complete; we are only waiting for one man.” “And he is—? “Robert Emmerson,” replied Hunston, They sliook hands warmly over this. The wretched fugitive felt a relief at hearing this which is bevond description. He had been depressed, ' overwhelmed with a sense of utter loneliness, ever since that dread night of murder. ‘Crusoe upon his desert island had felt happy and cheerful in comparison with Emmerson, who prowled about in the midst of crowds and yet alone, And so far had this sense of desolation crept over him, that the revulsion of feeling gave him a great desire to shed tears. CHAPTER XYIIT. BURIED ALIVE, Sinox the fearful attack made on young Jack in the woods by Hunston and Toro, he had recoived strict in- structions from his father never again to venture out of the town or-leave the hotel without a protector. Jack’s courage would have taken him anywhere, but he would not disobey orders, so he prevailed on Dick Har- yey one evening to take a stroll with him and Nero, Dick Harvey, wishing for a walk, at once consented. “Well, Jack, if you promise to be good and not run away, I will go with you,” ‘All right, sir, off we go, shall have a run with us.” R “Stop,” said Harvey; “here comes your father; ask his permission before we start.” “What are you up to, eh, Jack?” asked Harkaway. “T wish to have a stroll, dad, and Mr. Harvey says be will come with me, if you will permit me to go.” “Very well, Jack,” replied his father, “I know you will be safe with my old friend Dick; so off with you,” ioe was all eagerness to proceed on board at They walked in single file through the town teward se sree where they were to take the water and go on ard. As they were walking along, thi ight that surprised them, — Hebe Berra Ak A youth was strutting arm-in-arm with a big monkey dresse* up in gorgeous array, and close by their side wrod & hope gee eep bac! suddenly eried Ch Do you necogniza the boy?” Hunston, “See there! ; n i e young cub we thought we had done for an isn ae fi giant, starting with surprise. son, you ‘ac that’s evil,”’ whispered eanatoin . be Baila eee _ “Then he must have escaped our vengeance. Why did you not let me, when he was hanging. put a bullet in him?” growled Toro.’ “And look; there is his infernal monkey. Do you remember him?” Hunston had more reason to recollect Nero than his companion, for he had suffered severely from his claws upon the oocasion of their last meeting, “Qurse Harkaway!”’ exclaimed Hunston, i Emmerson; “‘he’s the author of all our troubles,” \ Come, Nero, old boy, you “All, I remember his visit to our gaming house.” “May he die miserably,” said Toro, “T wish we could make him,” said Hunston, with his old vicious chuckle, ‘‘But he and his crew seem to lead a, charmed life.” Hunston might well say so, for he had tried all that villany could devise, and audacity carry out, to put an end to his old and redoubtable foes. But Jack Harkaway had been to much for him, He was a ticklish customer, was Jack. Meantime, the latter’s son walked on, all unconscious of danger, by the side of Harvey, and Nero swaggered as much, or more, than his master. A burried conversation took place between the three villains, and then their consultation speedily assumed shape. A terrible shape too, alas! for young Jack, “Who will attack the man?” asked Emmerson, “T will,” cried Toro, “Wait tillwe get him with no one near, and this shall settle him for a time.” And Toro pulled from his coat pocket a large life pre- server, “See,” whispered Hunston, ‘“‘they’ve turned down that dark lane; now’s your time,’ Toro the giant was some distance from Harvey, but he swung round his head the life preserver, and fthen it went flying through the air straight at Harvey’s head. With a deep groan Dick fell to the ground, but rising on his arm, he cried: “Fly, Jack, my boy, we are attacked,” The next moment Toro was upon him, and with one heavy blow of his fist Harvey fell like a dead man, " cata stole after the boy, carrying his cape in his and, And, just as young Jack was about to turn round, the cape was thrown over his head, and he was held in a yice-like embrace, Nero bolted. The sudden assault startled the monkey at first, and he squeaked most discordantly, In fact, such a precious row did he kick up that they began to be afraid that attention might be attracted by it, and therefore a hurried attempt was made to secure Master Nero, But the latter was not to be caught, “What shall we do with this fellow?” asked Toro, “Tet him remain where he is,” said Hunston, brutally kicking poor, helpless Harvey, ‘Now let us away,” Young Jack was hurried along for some distance, and then dragged into an empty, half-finished dwelling. Not till then was the cape rémoved, ‘The prisoner glanced around him nervously, The place was certainly familiar to him, This was little to be wondered at, very little, for in this very room young: Jack had before been in a sorry predicament, It is needless to recall to tlee reader’s mind that terri- ble affray in the street in which poor Isaac Mole came to grief, and wherein the unhappy Harry Girdwood was done to death by that butcher Toro. ; Now they had Jack once more alone! f No fear of interruption this time. Their purpose was then to complete what they had be- gun before, What this purpose was would have puzzled a looker-on at this stage of the proceedings, for Toro began opera- tions by pulling away the brickwork by the half-finished chimney, Young Jack saw all, Prayers, tears, remonstrances, the boy knew well would avail him little with these men, He was as brave as a young lion, too, and humble pie was a species of diet he was little used to, “Ready for him now?” asked Hunston, ‘*Yes.?? “Put him inside, then, Emmerson, and don’t fail in having your revenge this time,” **T wish his accursed father was here, too,” said Toro, “That's a lie,” retorted young Jack, quickly. “Silence!” ‘ “You know it isa lie!” added the fearless boy, ‘If my Peek were here, you’d be al’ shaking in your shoes with right, Toro made a savage slap at, the speaker, which young Jack dodged nimbly, “Tf your father was here, he’d be treated the same as you,” said Hunston; ‘he’s a cur, and he I suffer yet,” “You know that is idle lying,” said young Jack; “you've felt the wait of his arm often enough.” “Hold your noise,” thundered Hunston furiously, “Tt is true.” “You lie!” “T don’t! Youknow you have begged your life when you had no right whatever to expect mercy, and he has granted it; and you know how you have turned upon him always, and repaid him by more treachery,” “Pll cut your ML tae CT ‘You tried that on with my father,” said yo Jack, “and it did not succeed.” eras d “But we are alone here, andT do not see why I should not at once ill you,” said Hunston, pulling out his long, thin dagger, 3 “He may escape again like he hag from the hanging business.” said Toro; “therefore, I say let the boy be killed. It will make sure.” *Q, you are bold fellows, I know,” said the boy, with a sneer. ‘I escaped from the woods, and something tells me I shall again escape.” “Silence!” roared Hunsbon, “You'll not escape,” said Toro, ‘for you'll never see mortal face again. So, you young vermin, death is near you. Tremble!” “Don’t know how,” retorted young Jack; “it’s an item in the ednecation of the Harkaways which has been totally neglected.” } In the tussle of master, They waited no longer, but seized him and dragged wits young Jack was clearly their to | him to the chimney to thrust him in. Young Jack offered no resistance whatever, glances with Sunday, it looked as if they were | It would have been useless, as he well knew. Once there, in that narrow aperture, one of them held a pistolat his head, while Toro set actively to work with trowel and mortar and bricks, And now it became apparent what fiend-like villany they contemplated, Bricking him up! : caene the young and hapless boy to a living om And, in all this, what cansed them the greatest disap- pointment was to find their victim fearless and wm- daunted as ever, They knew well that he realized thefull danger of his sition, for his sharp tongue told of keen wit. Yet, whatever he felt, he kept it well to himself, They knew how dreadfully he had suffered when tied — up by the heels in the wood, and they counted this time upon tears, and cries, and prayers for merey. Imagine, therefore, how great was their disappoint- ment. And still the bricking-up continued. The wall which was closing up before young Jack was two bricks deep, and of a solidity which would certainly defy his efforts to free himself. Young Jack kept a calm exterior, but he felt a sickem- ing dread creeping over him. Brick by brick his doom was being consuramated. A death far too horrible to contemplate. But he did not mean to let them see his fear in his ace, He was keeping his eyes open for any chance which might offer, and presently he thought that he saw one, Hunston was standing close by the aperture, and out _ from his breast pocket the hilt of a knife appeared, just within reach, Youhg Jack was at it in a jiffy. He reached it, too, and’in the selfsame effort made a stab at Hunston, which had very nearly taken effect. But Emmerson knocked up his hand | ly. Down fell the knife with a clatter upon the floor, and young Jack received a cruel slap in the face, which sent him reeling back, bleeding at the mouth and nostrils, At the same instant Nero made his appearance at the door, but suddenly disappeared as Toro threw a brick at him, shouting: “There’s that brutal monkey again,’”” The monkey bounded away grinning. But Nero was soon back, and pounecing upon Hun- ston’s knife, he darted across the room, , And then followed an exciting chase, all in fayor of jor monkey, who was here, there, and everywhere in a rice, “We had better shoot him, I think,” said Toro, “No, no,” ‘Why not?” “The noise would alarm the neighborhood,” “pine, ” a on best idea would be to brick him up with the rat, “True, true,” cried the other two in a breath, “hey will enjoy it all the more,” said Hunstom, “and - perhaps they will gnaw each other when the pangs of hunger grow rather more pressing than pleasant.” “JT should like to watch the accursed brat’s face ten,” said Toro, in fiendlike glev, j ‘So should I.” “But, happily, we shall be far away from New York, upon the ocean, I hope, by then. Now for the monkey. ‘They spread out, and drove Nero into a corner, But Nero was not to be caught so easily. Just as they thought they had hold of him, he sprang up and bobbed past them, Then, with a bound, he flew to the chimuey and joined his unfortunate young master. As the last brick was being placed, Hunston called through the small aperture to young Jack: “Will you beg for mercy?” “No,” me ill you sue to us for forgiveness?” °. Nn it I es more, for the last time, will you beg for yeur 6 ; “Never, You thought you had destroyed me in the woods, but I am here, beg of you my life.” “Quite right, boy; you would not have got it.” , “Finish,” said Toro, impatiently; “he is bragging as much as he did in the woods,” | The last brick was placed, The deed was done, , And thus was young Jack Harkaway ‘consigned living to the grave. I do not fear you, and will not CHAPTER XIX. if MR, MOLE AS A STUMP ORATOR, Mr. Morr and his bride took the first train for Boston, and thence proceeded to Harkaway’s plantation, whem he was to spend a brief honeymoon with his dusky bride. In attendance upon the ‘“‘young couple” were the brace of blackbirds, Messieurs Sunday and Monday. They had both been duly coached up bd Dick Harvey before starting, and they had made up fun with the newly-married pair—with the new bride- om especially, Wh As soon as they arrived at the plantation a grand gen- eral assembly of the colored population was called by Sunday and Monday, The meeting was settled to take place in a large barn, and Monday was of the opinion that it would be better for it to take the character of a farewell lecture. le) Accordingly a temporary platform was raised, A table or desk was placed upon it and duly withethe orthodox water bottle, glass, and hand-! The hand-bell | was to invite silence when the lecturer should be ready. ; : Mrs. Mole waa seated in front, close by the lecturer's desk, and by the way in which she exchanged nods and strangely familiar terms, eir minds for — 3

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HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. a Presently there was a general hush; then a burst of applause which rang through the burn. Mr. Mole stumped gracefully on to the platform. “Bravo, Massa Mole!” shouted the niggers and ne- lustily, ‘Bravo, sar!” Mr. Mole bowed his acknowledgements. Then he turned to Sunday, who had followed him on to the platform. “ Sunday had evidently some official duties to perform here, for he began by ringing the bell to call for silence, Then he cleared his voice with rather more ostenta-~ ion than was precisely necessary. “Ladies an’ gemmen, an’ specially gals ob de colored persuasion, he began, with an elegant wave of the hand, “Bravo, Sunday!” screamed the audience, Mr. Mole looked rather indignant, Was he to lecture, or was Sunday. That was the question he had to ask himself. ’ Sunday bowed gracefully and continued: “fT hab de extinguished honor ob introducing my “ prudder Mole,” “Drop the brother,” said Mr. Mole, audibly. “T repeat, ladies an’ gemmen, of introducing my brud- der Mole,” continued Sunday; ‘an’ ladies an’ gemmen, it’s twice de pleasure to introduce a man an’ a brudder when he is such a brudder,” “What are you driving at, Sunday?” exclaimed Mr. Mold, growing impatient. ‘I wish you would be a little Jess familiar in your manner.” “What for, Massa Mole?” “What for, you ignorant nigger?” ‘Yes, Massa Mole.” “Because IE don’t care to be brothered all over the place by you, It’s all very well to call a black pudding like you a man and a brother; it’s all very well, I say, in a speech, or in a sentimental song, orin a book, It’s a sort of sentimental figure of speech, you understand, that’s invented in some tract; for, of course, a black doll—a male Aunt Sally like you, can’t very well bea brother of mine,” “Oh, I can’t!” . “Of course not.” ; “Sure?” “Don’t talk stuff.” “Come here, Chloe,” said Sunday. “Sunday,” said Mr, Mole, “I beg you won’t.” “Won't what?” “Won't be quite so familiar with Mrs, Mole, Remem- of 9 tare her name is Mrs, Mole,” “Yes, sar; Chloe Mole.” “Mrs. Mole,” said the tutor, severely. And whether Mhoe Clole—t mean Molly Chole—that is, Chloe Mole or not, little concerns you.” Sunday scratched his wool, and winked again at Mon- There was evidentiy something up between them, “Well, brudder Mole, I willif yer likes; but, by golly! hey sound rum to hear me call my sister Mrs, ie?” Mr. Mole made a very wry face at this speech. Sauer do you mean, you ignorant bit of coal, by your 1?” “She is my sister, brudder Mole,” returned Sunday. “Don’t make a greater ass of yourself than is neces- ne Sunday.” “It’s a fack,” persisted the darkey. “What is?” “Dat Chloe am my sister.” ) “Bah!” “‘Ask her,” “Tf you try on your unseemly jokes with me, Sunday, I shall certainly complain to Mr. Harvey.” “You can ’plain to Old Nick himself if you like, brud- der Mole; but Chloe Lisbef Jex dat was, Chloe Lisbef Mole dat is, am dis chile’s sister.” peony, leant over the handrail, and appealed to Mrs. ie, “Ta dat so, Chloe?” \ “Oourse it is, Owsar Hannibal,” replied Mrs. Mole, Sunday turned triumphantly to Mole. { “You hear, sar?” “Yes, yes,” replied the bewildered Mole; ‘but I don’t understand” —— “You don’t es i to’ understand nuffin’, brudder Mole,” said Sunday, with a fain. dash of contempt in histone. ‘If Chloe Lisbef Jex and Cesar Hannibal Au- gustus Constantine Jex was brudder and sister, ob eourse you and me js brudder and brudder.” _ The argument bad grown public by this. As it grew more animated, they spoke in a louder at and so that the audience could hear all that was “Bravo, Sunday!” said one of the foremost niggers. The applause was taken up, and Sunday had to bow gracefully his acknowledgments of their approval. Mr, Mole winced, A dreadful feeling was creeping over him. He felt convinced that he had n. done, yet he could rate on fee pone at once, ANG tioal if good friend Sunday 6 sina jical sense he naid, with a bland sini,” fs an “No, I don’t,” cried Sunday, “I don’t know nnffin’ about pottery.” “Poetry.” _ “I says pottery. What I mean, sar, is dat you’re my ‘orudder, cos Chloe and me had the same mother and sam father.” “Hal”? Mr. Mole was staggered. 5 . There was no polata Se this any.further, “The same father and mother!” groaned Mr. Mole. “Why didn’t you say so before?” _ It was a sad blow to him, for he had reviled Sunday, and heaped all kinds of moral dirt upon that darkey’s devoted head before everybody, and now he discovered that he was his brother by marriage. ; _ It was really too bad. f However, this w not all he was to suffer, The brace of dui ‘bin, y wags had something in store for They had not forgotten nor forgiven him for painting them up as he had done. “He made us white,” said Monday to his colleague, ‘Well make him bl: Dat's de way we'll take de larf out ob him,” y Sunday went on with his introduction of the lecturer, “My brudder Mole,” he said, “‘am a pusson ob high ’stinction, and don’t play second fiddle to no living cuss as an orytor. He’ve only took to lecturing since he lost his leg. Perhaps you'll say, ladies and gentlemen ob color, dat it’s quite natural dat, under de circumstances, he should ‘go onde stump,’ Dere ain’t nuffin’ to larf at, you niggers, My brudder Mole, I say, am a pusson ob high ’stinction. He’s got a good deal more in his head dan you can get out, What are you larfing at, you niggers? He hain’t got so much wool on bis cokernut as some of us?” he went on, asif replying to a remark of one of the audience. ‘Maybe he ain't, but it’s not what he’s got on his head, gemmen; it’s what he’s got in it.” And as Sunday spoke, he thumped the table to empha- sise his speech, and in thumping, he jerked Mr, Mole’s hat off on the ground. Monday picked it up, and as he did so, he tipped the wink to his colleague, and they both grinned. oo almost looked as if there was some mischief in the nd, Monday made a great show of brushing Mr. Mole’s hat inside as well as out, Now, if you had looked a little closer, it would have appeared as though Monday were rubbing just the inside of the hat, just the rim of the lining which rests upon the forehead, with some powdered burnt cork, Moreover, he dropped some of the finely-powdered cork into Mr. Mole’s colored silk handkerchief which was in the hat, This done, he hastened te restore the hat to Mr. Mole. Sunday had, by this time, finished his address, and made way for Mr. Mole, who stumped forward, and gave a preliminary cough. ‘The allusion to his growing baldness had not been thrown away. He did not care to appear to notice it, but by degrees he fiddled at his hat and fidgeted about until he get it on to his head, i “Ahem?” began Mr, Mole. ‘Ladies and gentle- men—” “Bravo, brudder Mole!” from Sunday. “T haye much pleasure in meeting you all here to-night, although I must confess that I could wish the cause had been different. We are going away—” “Oh—h—h,” yelled Sunday, suddenly grief-stricken, and the whole of the audience caught it up, howling away at a deafening rate. ‘Hush! my good friends,” said Mr. Mole, with diffi- beg making himself heard, It is notasif I were going to ie—”? “Dye what sar?” asked Monday; “‘not your whisk- ers?” “Dear me!” cried Mole, quite perplexed. ‘‘No!” . “What den sar? Can't be your wool; der ain’t ’nuff to dye by no manner ob means,” Mr. Mole sighed. They seemed to be playing at cross purposes. “When I say die, my friends,” he said, “I don’tmean to paint or change the color of my hair or beard—far from it, I simply mean dissolution—the word of the same sound, but of a different orthography—” “Don’t know nuffin’ bout jography,” said Sunday, “Tn other words,” continued Mr. Mole, not heeding the interruption, “‘I meant, as Shakespeare says, ‘the shuffling off this mortal coil—’”’ “Dat’s mel” cried Sunday, with a laugh, “Oho, Massa Mole says he means shufflin’!”’ “Hooray!” yelled the colored audience, . “Now, you darkies,” cried Sunday, “we ali know dat Massa Mole is a heavenly dancer.” “He am dat!” cried Monday, “regular beautiful.” “So, gents all, likewise gals,” said Sunday, gravely,” “what'll you have? Quick step, Lancashire breakdown, or hornpipe? Don’tall speak at once.” “Dear me, dear me!” exclaimed Mr. Mole, ‘‘I mean—” “Fandango, bolero, cachuca?” cried Sunday. ‘Now, den, black folks, choose, for brudder Mole wants to be- ” “De ‘Essence ob ole Virginny,’” cried one of the la- dies, The rest approved of this, for they kicked up a rare row. Now ‘The Fssence of Old Virginia” was a breakdown which was danced by aged niggers, whose legs had lost their youthful elasticity. Mr. Mole knew this, and he had a double reason for resisting the suggestion. Firstly, he did not mean dancing at all. Secondly, he did not approve of this allusion to the summer of his own life having so completely departed. “Dear, dear me,” he exclaimed, in sheer despair, “af I am not allowed to speak, I shall leave the platform,” He would have carried his threat into effect had not Sunday been there to have stopped him, Neither he nor Monday meant to let the worthy tutor off so easily, They managed to obtain silence, and Sunday pro- ceeded to offer some explanation, “Massa Mole don’t mean to dance now,” he said;the’ve changed his mind.” The audience Re aro “No, no!” cried Mr, spoke of dancing,” “Oh, yes,” corrected Sunday, with a serious and re- proachful look, you said shuftling most distinctual.” ‘He did, he did!” 1 “But I didn’t mean double shuffling,” cried Mr, Mole, in despair. ‘Oh—h—h!” ejaculated Sunday. ‘‘Massa Mole mean to say dat he’s only a ornary shuftier.” Expressions of anger were manifested at this explana- Mole, “that’s not it. I never Mr. Mole gave it up for a bad job, He turned t the water-bottlefor consolation, and filled a tumbler, You would never have forgotten the wry face that he made as the water trickled down his throat. “Sunday!” “What’s the matter, sar?” “You've forgotten to put the ginin,” he said,in a whisper of the greatest disgust. “Neber mind the gin, Speak to’em; dey’re getting in a debbil of atemper. Say summat to smooth ’em down like.” “What shall I say?” “Tell em dat black and white is all one—dat we're all brudders and sisters, and sich; dem’s de sentiments what'll fetch ’em.” ‘Ladies and gentlemen,” said Mr. Mole, ‘to resume. I came only to deliver a short farewell address to you. I do not like the idea of leaving, even though it be but om a journey, without bidding you gobvd-bye,” ‘‘Hear, hear!” “Thank you. For are you not as dear to me as any white ng ta Of course, are we not all men and wom- en, with hearts alike—all brothers?” An’ some sisters,” added Monday, in an audible voice, which made the audience laugh. : ‘Dat’s right, brudder Mole,” said Sunday, sotto voce; “you's gwine it. Pile it in stiff.” Mr. Mole could not but see that the pair of darkeys were haying some fun with him, and so he made aaly dash at retaliation. “Black and white are all one to me,” he went on te say; “our A ya friends here will tell you that I have ever regarded them as my equals. looked upon as of little consequence, Yet they will tell you I haye done my best to make them as white as I am myself.” Sunday and Monday exchanged looks at this. “They will tell you,” said Mr. Mole, encouraged by the laughter and cheers of his auditors, “that I painted them site to try and demonstrate practically that we were all ike, “Haw! haw! haw!’ laughed the colored people gen- erally. “An? Massa Mole, findin’ dat won’t answer,” said Mon- day, suddenly getting on his legs, ‘is going to paint his- self black; so, anyhow he’ll make hisself our equal.” They cheered at this. “T can’t exactly promise that,” said Mr. Mole, super- ciliously; “but I may paint them white again on some future occasion.” As he spoke he took off his hat to wipe his forehead, and there, sure enough, was a coronet of black dye, And then, when he wiped his forehead, he smeared it all over his face, Three or four dabs of his handkerchief, and he was a regular sweep. The } sebagai cork did its work well. ‘ “Ladies an’ gemmen,” said Sunday, on his legs at once, ‘Massa Mole promised to paint hisself, which he denies it like; but don’t b’lieve him, he’s gwine to do it all de while.” “Haw, haw!” “Tn fack, you might almost say as he’s doin’ it.” “Haw, haw!” And all the while Mr. Mole, smiling and bowing grace- fully, and alternately wiping his face with his begrimed handkerchief, was utterly ignorant of any further cause for merriment than his own waggish allusions to the practical joke he had played upon the darkeys. How the lecture would have ende there is no saying, had not an alarming incident occurred. A telegram was brought in to Mr. Mole, re $e from New York, and sent by Jack Harkawey the elder, “To IsAao Moxie, Beddington Farm, etn JAK Harxaway, Fifth Avenue Hotel, Kew ork.” “My Jack has disappeared. Ts he with you? If not, we fear the worst. Pray return immediately. We are in the deepest distress, My old frien@ Farvey has also disappeared,” “Read that, Monday,” said Mr, Mole seriously, ‘‘and then pack up.” ‘ “To gor” “Yes,” f “What's de matter, brudder Male?” asked Sunday, A loud wail from Monday ansuored his query, “Oh! my Jack, my Jack,” he cried; ‘‘dem dam willins hev got him ag’in. Oh! my poor child, why did dis miserable old nigger come away and leave you? Willin, and traitor, and tief, dat I 1s.” They were all back again in New York by the first OHAPTER XX, Jaok HARKAWAY senior was at the railway station to meet them as they alighted from the train, He shook them aj] eagerly by the hand, “He’s not with you?” he demanded in a broken voice, Mr, Mole shook his head. “Then,” said Harkaway, falling upon Monday’s sheul- ders, the last hope is gone.” f And the big-hearted, bold-hearted Harkaway gave himself up to his bitter grief. The last, last hope was gone. He now feared for his young Jack ant his dear friend gered life. che Pata rac a ‘orgive my weakness, arkaway presently; ‘ have aekes such a bold front at home, that the tine has overstrained me. If his mother saw me give way, she would die.” mre ‘When did he disappear?” asked Mr. Mole. “Within an hour of yourstart,” was the reply, “He went with Harvey.” ‘*What have you done in the matter?” The difference of color I - *

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HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. eee “Everything.” “Now, Nero,” said young Jack, “Iam going to trust; The daylight was unmistakably gone, and with it all “Police?” you on a yery serious mission. I want you to take a let-| hope. Alas, poor Jack! : “Yes.” ter for me to dad, or to some oneat the hotel. Do you| ‘There was no hope. “Offered rewards?” hear?” None, “Yes.” Nero whined. “T wonder how Nero will get on,” thought young Jack “Do you suspect anybody in particular?” “Nobody but our old enemies, It must be the work of Hunston and his gang. “We must all put our heads together,” continued Harkaway, ‘‘and try what we can think of to recover my Jack, and my old friend Harvey. If they’re alive, we'll find them” “We will, for my love is with them both,” said Mole, Mole did what he could to cheer up the poor bereaved father. But in vain, He was not to be comforted. “You must keep up a good face, my friends,’ Harka- way said, ‘‘before my wife and the ladies generally, It is no use alarming them,” “True!” “Meanwhile, my dear oJd friend, I think you had bet- ter not see Emily or Hilda to-night.” “Why?” “Because they have been so building upon young Jack and Harvey being with you, that I cannot find itin my heart to undecsive them to-night, at least.” “Very good.” “Take heart,” said the faithful Monday, who was ready to blubber. “Take heart, massa; we will find Jack, He is so dear to all ob us,” “Tf my stumping through New York,” said Mr. Mole, ‘until I have worn my timber toe down to the size of a cotton reel, will do it, I will find our dear Jack,” “Heaven bless you;” rejoined the heart-broken Hark- away. “Cheer up, cheer up,” returned poor old Mole, swal- lowing his tears, and wabbling his nose, for it tingled with grief. ‘I shall find my boy Jack yet.” “How?” *That’s more than I can say at present.” They little knew the great danger of young Jack, or that Dick Harvey was at that moment stricken down near to death, * ” * * * * Isaac Mole and his Chlos were lodged in the same ho- tel, but in a remote part of it, in order that Mrs, Hark- away gt ae not run across them. And Mr. Mole, worn out by his day’s journey, fell fast asleep and dreampt that he had found young Jack. He thought that the boy was shut up in an oven, with Nero the monkey, and that, just as the bakers three, who bore a wonderful resemblance to Hunston, Toro and Emmerson were about to heat it, and bake young Jack alive, he came to the rescue, \ It so frightened Mr. Mole that he awoke with a start. eee as he opened his eyes, he gave a loud cry of alarm. * Chloe, Chloe, my. dear, wake, wake up.” ‘What is it?” asked his black wife. } “What’s—s—s that on the foot of the bed, my dear?” “Nothing.” “What” ejaculated Mole, “do you call that nothing? Do, pray, look,” “TI see nothing; you are dreaming; or, perhaps it am your wooden leg I placed at de bottom of de bed.” “Well, if ITever. My dear, do pray wake up and look. Tt is not my wooden leg. Is it Nero, or is it the old gen- tleman himself come for you, my dear?” Chloe logked up rather frightened, Then she Wave shriek oné, shriek two, and dived sud- denly under the bedclothes, CHAPTER XXI. Tr is now high time that wereturn to young Jack! Poor Jack! * So soon after his escape from the woods to be again threatened with a cruel death. Buried alive! ° Bricked up in a chimney by his implacable foes, the three rufflans, Hunston, ‘Toro, and Emmerson, This surely was the end of all. Hope seldom dies in the human breast, it has been said, yot it was well-nigh extinct in young Jack’s, The faithful Nero evidently understood that there was danger, for he nestled closer and closer, to his master, “Good Nero, brave Nero,” said young Jack, returning his caresses, “you are ajtrue friend. You saved me when near death in the forest tree, and may once more do me a service,” The monkey whined and whinnied, and nestled closer and closer yet to young Jack, And as they cuddled up together thus, young Jack gaught a glimpse of daylight overhead, He looked eagerly up, Yes, there it was, sure enough. The chimney shaft was nearly streffht, so that, small as wasthe aperture at the top, it let in a good-sized ray of pire tae ree “If I could only reach that,” thowght young Jack, ‘ gould escape.” rs H pa ied gas And then hope began to revive. But it was soon faba ; He soon discovered that it was h ttem! a feat of climbing. int nie oe Sle Fe is more than Nere could accomplish,” said young Jaek, Here even as he spoke, he made up his mind to let Nero y. He sent him up a little way, and Nero, it could naount te the top, i: De ere gee as young Jack watched him, he had a lucky potion, “Nero, old boy,” he said, “‘come down,” The monkey understood as well as any Christian could have done, and he did more than many <Christians do— he obeyed He understood, and this was his response. Young Jack carried a pocket-book, so he took it out, and by dint of a great deal of perseverance and guess- work, for it was dark, he contrived toscribble the fol- lowing note to his father; “To Mr. JoHN HARKAWAY, “Jifth Avenue Hotel, “With my earnest prayers to anybody finding this note to forward it immediately to him, “My Own Dear Faruer: I am in the foils, Hunston and his Villainous companions have caught me and caged me, I fear Mr. Harvey is killed, I am in the empty house from whence Mr. Jefferson once rescued me, buried alive, bricked up in the chimney on the first floor. Muay Heaven preserve my life until you can come to rescue me, “Your unhappy boy, “JAOK,”” fs me next thing was to secure this note about Nero’s ody. He carried a small pincushion—the sod of little Emily —in his waistcoat pocket, and this being amply fur- nished, it came in just handily, He pinned the letter to Nero’s jacket, amd then, with many a pat of encouragement, he started him up the chimney again. And as Nero climbed, something fell from his pocket, and clattered upon tlhe ground by young Jack’s feet, It was a knife, A long, slender-bladed knife Mr. Nero had spied in the pocket of the villain Hunston, and boned. And now it was likely to prove of service to Jack. He picked it up, and then watched Nero’s progress in | DP) breathless interest, It was not easy climbing. But Nero was equal to the task, and he went up at a great rate. Once at the top, he squeezed through, aad then, squatting beside the chimney pot, he leant over and rammed his head in again to take a farewell look at his young master, It ‘ quite shut out that little ray of light for the mo- ment, “I’m glad that there is that much light,” said young Jack to himself; ‘it would look horribly like the grave if that little bit of light were shut out.” Poor boy! he little knew what was in store for him, And this little light, poor as it was, was soon to be de- nied him, While Nero was there, grinning at his young master, he was alarmed by a noise close behind him. The poor, faithful monkey could not understand what was said, But the voices were thoseof enemies, and so Nero made off, Gliding along the parapet, he dodged down behind a stack of chimneys, And justas he had taken up his position to watch what was going on, the three men crept over the roof, and made their way to the chimney from which Nero had just emerged. “This is the chimney.” Are you sure?” “Yes.” “To work, then.” ‘‘Where’s the mortar?” ‘‘Here it is.” Emmerson watched without Saree} any assistance, and as the work proceeded he criticised its utility. “The boy is safe enough where he is,” said Emmer- son, *<We know that,” r “Then why waste your time in blocking up the chim- ney top?” “He ‘ht live.” “Well! “And we don’t exactly want that.” ee you don’t Ryane Hind to die at once.” “No, “What, then?” ° “He must be made sure. revenge in the wood.” “There's not much danger this time of his being dis- covered,” said Emmerson; ‘‘but you seem anxious not to cause unnecessary pain.” “ Wel” e “Yes; if it isa question of humanity,” said Emmer- son, with asneer, “all well and good.” ‘“‘What do you mean?” growled Hunston, “Simply this,” returned Emmerson, “that ‘by closing the chimney in, you will make an end of it too quickly. I should have liked the brat to die slowly; for him and that cursed monkey to have gnawed at each other, and fought when the pangs of hunger were on them hard, and to have dragged on a miserableend, ‘That’s what I call vengeance,” “It is—it is!” cried Toro, “These Harkaways have as many lives as a cat,”” Hun- ston went on to say; “and if we left him half a loop-hole, he might escape us yet.” “He might,” admitted Toro, “J can’t see how, for one,” said Emmerson. “No matter; let us make sure, ‘Safe bind,’ you know.” “All right,” And as they talked, they set to work with tiles and mortar to end theirfatal business, poe Jack saw his daylight gone, and his heart sank, He did not understand it at first. His idea was that Nero had returned, and was lolling fight the chimney-pot so thoroughly as to block out the But he could not deesive himself so far long. ; erat: We were tricked out of our fins tohimself. ‘‘I wonder if he will find his way to dad or to Mr. Mole, or to any one who can help me,” “Let me think,” he said to himself again and again. “What is to be done?” “The wall is newly built,” he thought to himself, “and 80 it can’t be very strong.” He pushed against it with desperation, but_he might aa well bave tried to move the Pyramids. Then he tried to bring the knife which Nero had let fall into use¥ He dug and picked at the mortar with great perse- verance, until by dint of much hard work, he contrived to insert the point of the knife into the mortar betweex the bricks, ‘ He pushed on and on at this until he fell asleep over his task, and forgot, for the time at least, all his troubles, and forgot even that he had been entombed alive, —— CHAPTER XXII, Youna Jaox woke up with a feeling of stiffness im every joint, and an alarming hunger upon him, - He was not aware for a moment of what had taken place, but he soon digcovered this in stretching out his hands, for he grazed his knuckles against the walls of his narrow prison. This was a forcible reminder. By degrees it all came back to him, He remembered all that had occurred; poor Dick Har- vey stricken down, the brutal e, his violent abdue~ oe and finally being buried aliye in that horrible ace. How long he had slept he had no idea, for it was pitch dark when he feilasleep, and it was equally dark now. Not a ray of light, any more than one of hope! Poor young Jack} He little thought that he had slept for fifteen hours at a stretch, The stillness and darkness of his cell had lulled him off. It was night when he dropped off to sleep; it was night now. Always night! E od “J wish Ihad slept afew hours more,” he said to-hitae- self, ‘instead of waking so soon. “1 could then have forgotten all my troubles. Digy “[ can’t help myself at all; as it is, itis no use try= ing.” “They'll never think of looking for me here.” ‘ “T wish I could go to sleep or die.” And then he felt very much inclined to weep. But when be found the tears rising to his eyes he felt ashamed of himeelf. So he drove them resolutely back and resolved, come what might, to die like a brave boy. What was he doing when he dropped off? 2 - He remembered now that he was trying to pierce the — wall, He thought awhile, and then by degrees he recollec too, that he was meeting with some slight encouragem: when sleep had conquered him. *‘Where is Nero’s knife, though?” was his next ques- tion. He groped along the wall until he came across the handle, sticking in just where he had left 1t. Then young Jack fell on his knees and offered up a prayer for help. Poor boy, he needed help in that dark cell, Alone and shut out from the world. - Springing to his feet, once more he set to work, “T’m precious hungry,” he said to hiniself. His trouble assumed a new shape. He would die of starvation beyond all doubt. He set to work with redoubled vigor.to pick away the mortar at the hole in the wall, until it suddenly yielded to his pressure. a He drew back his instrument, and thet, by, all that bh lucky! there was daylight through. This'was gle- rious, : It gave young Jack heart and hope. . i He forgot hunger, fatigue, despair, and sucked gre: at the draughts of comparatively fresh air which thé ap- erture admitted, . It was at first meat and drink for him, 5 But such sustenance could only suffice for a short time, A ¢ B-am, a After awhile the old pangs of hunger returned, ra a ay He was going to starve! rate Of this he was sure, 5 Still he meant to die hard. M He had heard of sailors wrecked without food or water, and he remembered how they began by “taking in & reef,” in other words, by tightening their waist belts, He profited by this reminiscence, iS But still nature would not be denied. “J shall die mye he said to himself, “and what will they say of me? Will dad say that I Was a thoughtless young monkey, and disobedient? as “Ah, no; poor dear dad! he will forget my bad conduct and talk only of my good queen know that well enough. And ma, and little Emily, w! willshe say? _ “she won’t think much of me. wre “She'll throw my gift, away, and as for hers—” He bag short, ‘ Hie What Pace toh ee: © aN What ie done at She had given him a box of chocolates, you! will remember, He had it still with him, He fished out the box from his pocket. But a box of chocolates is only @ small stay for a grow- ing boy. ; Atter the contents of the box were all devoured, the / ‘ aa

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y° pangs returned, and although he fought hard against them, they were too much for him, Slowly, yet surely, he drooped, drooped, and sank, and presently he was powerless to help himself. Three days and three nights passed in this way. On the fourth day, poor young Jack, wasas near death as ever living soul was yet. Yor twelve hours he had done nothing in the way of struggling out of his imprisonment, His strength was gone. A faint sickly feeling was creeping over him. A chilly sensation was stealing over his young heart, and a nameless dread was upon him. This was surely death. 2 “Mother!” he cried. sinking upon the ground help- ’ leasly; “dear, dear mamwma!—dear father!—Emily dear! _ tomed to associate with the heroes of romance, earl dreadful to die so young, like poor Harry Gird- wood,” And then, with broken phrases of prayer upon his lips, poor young Jack sank senseless, ——$— CHAPTER XXIII, Mrs. More dived under the bedclothes, but Mr. Mole was too frightened himself to allow his domestic partner to hide away, while he was alone to face the danger, if there was really any danger to face, “Qhloe!” cried Mr. Mole, still, wagging his one leg out of bed in a threatening manner at thesupposed dreadful object at the foot of the bedstead, ‘‘Chloe!” “Ugh!” grunted his partner from under the sheets, “Come out.” ““Nebber!” replied his spouse, “Nensense!”” said Mr. Mole, severely, “Whatis there to be afraid of?” “Nuffin’,” t i “Just my sentiments, Then why don’t you come out?” “Y won’t—I won’t; de ugly ting come for you, not me.” “It’s ridiculous, Chloe,” said Mr, Mole, his teeth chat- tering with fright, “Come out, do,” continued Mr, Mole, imperatively. And then he tried to rout her out. But to judge from his maneuvers, in trying to get un- der the bed clothes, he was more full of shielding him- self from danger than of convincing Mrs. Mole that there was nothing to fear. In fact, not to disguise the facts of the case, he got as far under the bedclothes as be could; and$when, after a good twenty minutes, his head emerged therefrom, and Jooked about, that dreadful vision had disappeared from the foot of the bed. ; “Gone!” Well might he be astonished, for it was indeedamazing, How that weird and spectral-looking visitor had con- trived to disappear so effectually it would be difficult to say. Mr. Mole, however, accounted for it to himself. “Gone! Oh, I see,” he muttered; ‘it was all my fancy. But it’s really very extraordinary what lengths one’s fancy will. carry one.” And he crouched down in the bed closer to Mrs, Mole, and covered up bis head too. n A precious old humbug was Isaac Mole. One of the worst of humbugs, for he tried to humbug himeelf. He lay trembling from head to foot, so that his wooden Jeg, lying atthe bottom of the bed, rattled against the end of the bedstead, while he heard some one very dis- tinctly moving about the room, Ard yet he pretended to be asleep when Mrs, Mole ‘popped her black head out and called his attention to the alar sounds. “Mr. Mole,” said his fair spouse; “Isaac!” ‘Never a word from Mole. He was too artful to answer, for he guessed what was avanted, He would be expected to get up and dothe manly thing—ty rout out the intruder, “Thats all yung weil,” said Isaac Mole to himself, when it oecurred to him in this light, “‘but I might not be able to carry it off with that dash that one 3 iin might, in fact, be the routed out, instead of the router,” “Tsaac!? whispered his wife from under the clothes, nudging him again. He could keep silent no longer, as she now began to pinch, and if there was one thing more than another that worried Mr. Mole, it was a pinch from Mrs, Mole, So he grunted: 5 _ “Bh, dear? What now?” “Hush! Get up; there’s the ole gemman hisself here,” said Mrs. Mole. “Me tink him must want you.” But Mr. Mole was not to be roused. Mrs. Mole, however, was possessed of the great virtue of perseverance, and she pegged away at herspouse until he could no longer affect not to hear. \ At length he sat up in bed, keeping close to Mrs. Mole, and they both looked about them, Nothing was to be _ ween, _ sessed of what an elastic mind to beso easily made up to |’ snything you may wish. p ‘The cause of ai] their alarm had vanished. The new-married couple looked at each other sheep- ishly. “Well, dear?” said the artful male Mole. “well, dear,” responded the female Mole, “there’s “Of course not.” “Well?” _ “Well, my dear?” _ “What's all this noisefor, dear?” __ ‘Humbug again, that you are, Isaac Mole, and pos- He kad just before been in an alarming state of mind \ , account of that fearsome sight which both he and his wife bad witnessed, and now he ehose to 100k pon se \ | dered | Jack Harkaway, the elder, Mrs, Harvey, and Ada, ia \ i + 7 HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. “Yes, Isaac,” returned his better half; “but it wasn’t mine.” “Nonsense, my dear; your fancy was biassed by my own—that’s all.” Mrs. Mole scratched her nightcap. “That means you persuaded me to think the same as you did.” “Well, yes,” replied Mr. Mole, involuntarily. “Then that couldn't be by no means.” “why?” “Because IT didn’t know what you thought. You neber tole me, Isaac, and I see a ghost as plain as possible, 50 get out and look, and when you got him tight, tell dis ehild.” “What was it like?” asked her husband, wishing to gain the necessary time to screw up his courage to the sticking place, ‘‘Ffulf like de ole one, an’ half like a monkey.” She was mistaken in this, The ghostly visitor was a good deal more like a monkey, At length Mrs. Mole, growing impatient, and pertly reassured herself, slid from the bed, with her eyes fixed upon the late perch of that grim visitor. Isaac Mole could no longer hang back. He stumped down on to the floor on the other side of the bed. And then the search begem. They looked everywhere—high and low—but no trace of anything or anybody could be seen, At length Mrs. Mole appeared to be on the scent. *‘Fush!” she eried, holding up her finger warningly, “What?” “A noise in the chimney,” responded Mrs, Mole. Mr. Mole listened, and surely enough there came sounds of an inexplicable character from that direction, So, with an effort of courage, he advanced to make a reconnoissance, when just as he got his head well forward there was a scramble in the flue, and down came a regu- lar cloud of soot. “A4-chew!” cried Mr, Mole, suddenly converted into a ‘man an’ a brudder” much more promptly than by Sun- day’s system at the memorable lecture, **A-chew!,’ sneezed his spouse. And they kept up this peculiar duet for several minutes, 2 After awhile,the titillation of their olfactories ceased, and the cloud of soot cleared off. s So they drew carefully nearer tothe chimney again, and then Mrs. Mole gave a loud cry of alarm, “What is it my dear?” asked her husband, hanging back, “Took up.” Mr. Mole advanced very carefully this time, and he was just soon enough to catch a glimpse of a long, hirsute tail flick along and disappear. « “Good Heaven!” “Oh, mercy!” And there they stood, trembling and staring at each erp i like two half daft people, suddenly stricken with palsy. % * * * * % % * Meanwhile, Nero careered gaily up the chimney again, He had taken alarm at the aspect of Mrs. Mole in her night cap, and so he returned by the way he had come— up the chimney. This was the explanation of the whole of the ghost mystery. Up the chimney and over the roof went Nero, only pausing for the luxury of an occasional flea, When he had got along some little distance, he began to look about him for a new chimney, He had no great liking for the roofs, and he had been trayeling along from house to house so far that he began to have quite enough of it. The corner stack of the next chimney took his fancy, 80 he dropped over, put in his tail carefully, and then followed with his legs. Facile decensus flue, He found it easy going for awhile, but presently the atmosphere of the chimney appeared to change and get warmer with very remarkable suddenness, » At first it was more agreeable than otherwise, But by degrees it grew to be too warm to be pleasant. Then @ faint smell of smoke arose, and in the course of afew minutes it grew so dense that Nero was well- nigh choked. He squeaked, and spluttered and squealed, and then up be went again. But before he got to the top, it so far overcame him that he grew suddenly dizzy. The consequence might be anticipated. Up there went such a yolume of smoke that it choked the unlucky monkey, and down he came with axun. He acattered the fire, and frightened them all half out] of their wits. The ocenpants of the room started back into the dif- ferent corners of the room, as Nero, like an animated ball of soot, rolled into the room. Nero jumped up and squeaked, and then shook the soot from his face. Those present, however, appeared to recognize him, “Nero!” } A general chorus of astonishment ensued. “‘Nero!”? said everybody in a breath, Nero, having en his yssion clear, surveyed the company, “It is my Jack’s monkey,” ejaculated the voice of Harkaway. Nero grinned. He knew him well enough. The room-into which Nero had so unceremoniously introduced himself was the sitting-room of Mrs. Harka- way, young Jack’s mother. The calamity which had just befalien the family had fairly prostrated her, and their medical adviser had or- er to keep her room. , But that her spirits might not be allowed to drop, she was to keep as much company as possible, And so there chanced to be there present, Emily and 4 tf ‘ nos We prt 2 “Poor Nero!” said Jack Harkaway, having recovered from his first surprise. ‘‘Nero, where is your young master and our old friend Harvey?” “Ah, he can tell us,” said Emily, with eagerness. Could he? Alas! we believe that they would have given half theie fortune—aye, the whole of it if they could have invested Nero then with the gift of speech. “Nero,” said Jack, ‘come here, my intelligent friend, and let us know what has become of my boy.” Nero sat upright before them, surveying the company and grinning. “Perhaps he’s hungry,” suggested Mrs, Harkaway. He was too, You would not long have remained in doubt upon that subject had you seen him dispose of some bread and a few apples. While Nero was enjoying his meal, Mr Magog Brand, the dwarf, was announced, “Show him in at once,” said Harkaway. The little gentieman eutered with a downcast face that reflected its sadness and disappointment in Harkaway’s. The dwarf shook his head. “ “What luck?” demanded Harkaway. “*None, so far,” “And Mr. Jefferson; where is he at present?” “Outside,” The fact was that Mr. Jefferson had so signally failed in his hunt after young Jaek that his hope was gone. His spirits drooped in consequence, “Our latest Sidea was to return to the empty house, where they once forced our dear boy,” said the little gentleman, “Why there?” asked Harkaway. likely place,” F “So say 1.” “Then why try it?” “Because Jefferson has his own obstinate views upon the matter. Because he’s as difficult to move as a mule. ‘There’s no doing anything with him if once he gets s fancy into his head.” ‘‘What does he say?” “He is convinced that Jack is spirited away there some- where. “Where?” “In the house,” “Impossible!” “So say I,” “But upon what does he baso his fancy?” “He says he is sure that they haye some hiding-place there—that when he came up so weli in the nick of time before they were about to stow Jack away; but, if you remember, the villains suddenly made their escape.” “But where?” “Precisely,” said Mr. Brand; “that’s what I say to Jefferson.” “Well, but you have been there?” “Yeu,” “And found nothing?” “Nothing.” “Then his obstinacy is cured at last?” Mr. Magog Brand shook his head and langhed sadly, “Not at all, That’s the curious part of it. He is just as positive as ever that young Jack is stowed away there.” “Tt is impossible?” “So I think,’ answered the dwarf, pensively. ‘Yet Jefferson is cautious and bold, It seems the result of some strange instinct—some strange inspiration, more than anything else. Why, he spent balf an hour if he oe a minute in the room where he rescued young Jack ‘ore. “The same room?” : “The,very same, Yet it is not a place containing holes and nooks. You can tuke it all in at a glance. I have told him that it is impossible that anything can have oc- curred there, for it no longer is the deserted house it was. The builders are at work there. In the very room he hovers about so, they have been completing some of the brickwork!” And the braye Jefferson had, in his search for you Jack, been so closé'to him that his hands had wande: a dozen times over the newly-placed bricks, behind which young Jack Harkaway was slowly, yet surely, dying of hunger and suffocation! . PC cd noise is that?” asked Harkaway, looking towarda e door. The next moment the door was burst rudely open, anc Mr, Jefferson strode in, dragging Mr. Mole with him. “A letter from Jack!” cried the big American, wildly; “look—a letter from Jack!” The ladies shrieked. F ets, turned faint, and Harkaway grew as pale ae eath. “A letter from Jack—my Jack?” “Yes,” j “Jefferson,” said little Mr, Brand, “are you mad?” * ‘““Mad?—no. Heve is the letter, and our good friena& Mr, Mole has brought it,” “Mr. Mole!” cried Emily, “Yes, my dear lady.” “Ts this true?” Tt is,” + “Oh, Mr. Mole!” exclaimed young Jack’s mother, “2 thought my boy was with you. Butiitis at any rate # consolation to find you have some news.” “News!” iterated Mole, who was apparently more tham half stupified by it himself. ‘I have a letter.” “‘Where’s the letter? Pray give it to me,” said Emily, with eagerness, “Here!” : “Oh, give it to me—quick!” She took by yee it. throu; “Tt was scarcely @ and then she sank back, as though overcome by what she had read. Harkaway took the letter and read itdown twice, Ts og tnt evn er wie is 0 a8 tO this was the which poor young Jack had often. under difficulties, after being bricked up in the chimney of the empty fe. ent ee od did this come from?” exelaimed Harkaway, ex 5 SAVED AY. \ eve . “CWho brought itz ; PR 4 h

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peer eren se **Yes, yes,” eehoed everybody present; ‘‘who brought the letter?” ‘Why don’t you answer, sir?” said Jefferson to the tutor, in a tone of remonstrance. “J brought it,” answered Mr, Mole, “and it was brought to me by a ghost.” “A ghost!” “4 what?” “Nonsense.” “An evil ghost,” persisted Mr. Mole, ‘We took it for the devil himself because of his tail, which we caught sight of as he flew up the chimney.” ; But Harkaway began to see the real state of the case, and his views were confirmed by Jefferson, who cried, guddenly: “T see if all!” ; “You do, you do!” ejaculated Emily. “What is it? Oh, pray explain, Mr. Jefferson!” . «J will, willingly. Nero brought this letter. It wants no magician to tell that; it says so in the letter itself.” “Tt does!” “Go on.” “Gently,” said Mr. Jefferson; “acd it confirms my yviews—my obstinate opinion, asimy friend Magog calls it.” “Then you think—”? “That young Jack is in the house where I found him before, and where I am going to find hint again,” “Hurrah! hurrah!” And before they could utter another word, Jefferson had dashed out of the room.” —_—— CHAPTER XXIV. Tux bold Jefferson was a man of action—not of words, x He set to work. Firstly, he set two or three persons at once to fetch picks and spades. At the same time he had a cab brought to convey the to the scene of action, The object of this wasto avoid creating any unneces- sary sensation. In less than twenty minutes they were upon the scene, He led the way quickly upstairs to the room where the unhappy victim was bricked up, and there Jefferson, after a brief glance round the room, pointed to the fresh brickwork, “Met to work there; lose not a moment,” he said to his amistants, They obeyed readily, ’ “ply your pick and spade quicker.” “Any fool might have guessed as much,” said he, half to himself; ‘‘and.so should Tif I hadn’t let myself be half persuaded from it by that Magog, idiot that I was, Poor bey—poor boy! I much fear he is dead,” It was not a long job for them. In less than one-sixth of the time that it had takem the yillanous accomplices to build up that hideous tomb, they had dragged it down. And when they had got it sufficiently demolished to secure a firm hold, they made a desperate tug at it. But it held firm. “Stand away,” said Mr. Jefferson; “let me try.” Then, with one mighty tug, down came the brick- work, and there a heart-breaking spectacle stood before them. The unhappy young Jack was livid. Death was-fastening on him rapidly. Hunger was within an ace of completing the work, ‘As the wall gave way, he gave a faint, hollow groan, 'The pallor of death was upon him, His eyes were lusterless, His lips wore the hue of the grave, Probably a few minutes more would have settled it, Suddenly a cry arose from the end of the room, A wail of heartfelt anguish. : “My boy, my boy! Ob, my poor darling Jack!” * It was Harkaway, The grief stricken father would have burst his way through them, but Jefferson held him back with a gentle, yet resolute hand, | ; “Quietly, Harkaway, quietly,” he said, in a low voice, “Qonsider the dreadful state your poor boy is in.” “Tet me take him in my arms, Jefferson.” ‘Keep back!” “Unhand me, I say, Jefferson,” said Harkaway, grow- ing indignant in his impatience, ‘Would you insult me?” “No, Harkaway; you know that well.” “Then I say—? Mcicinger al I will not let you or any man kill our poor Oy ay, or imprudence until all that can be done has been tried to save him,” “Kill him?” “Yep.” “What mean you?” y _ “Then wait till the doctor comes.” ‘ ee been sent for, and just then he put in an ap- "© “Good ‘Heaven? exclaimed the man of skill, startled out of his accustomed calmness by such an unwonted vets apne wae stake, ien le’ answe' ack’s father, wringi ay “Oh, would that I had ‘sean tata clutch now “Calm yourself,” said the doctor, rey ingly. <« is life pee, and oe is a} Te henge upon a tha a Tg in great danger?” as wa i The aie nodded. vik te 4} By ha uy not answer for the consequence,” he replied gravely, if he is’ rudely disturbed, ‘True affection is shown more in the restraint which one puts upon one’s feelings than in noisy demonstrations. The least shock may kill him.” ; “Prust me, then,” 71 r Clarnt. Uae HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. The doctor took a bottle from his pocket, and un- screwed the stopper with mathematical precision, as he said in a whisper: “See he has fainted. He may go off in that state.” Who shall describe the torture that poor Harka- way suffered, upon hearing this fatal opinion given in such a way? To be restored to his brave boy, only to know that the slightest accident, any moment, might snatch him away again, was indeed agonizing. Hunston had indeed part of his long sought revengé on Harkaway at that moment. ‘They had to wait and watch. The doctor placed a phinl to the poor boy’s nostrils, and held it there with considerable patience for a time. Presently there was a slight twitching of the face, and the doctor looked up at Harkaway. ; There were evident signs of satisfaction in the doctor’s ‘ace, “He lives yet,’ he whispered to Harkaway. The nostrils of the patient dilated faintly—then came a gentle sigh. The doctor took the phial from his nostrils and ap- plied it to his mouth. A single drop of this sent a thrill through the suffer- ing boy’s frame from head to foot. He opened his eyes, Harkaway was about to rush forward again, when the doctor restrained him with a warning glance, Jack looked about him in a half-dazed manner, “Here, my boy,” said the doctor, “taste this.” Some weak brandy and water had been brought, and young Jack sipped at this, and at eaeck sip his strength recovered, His expression grew less vacant by degrees, and his eyes glistened, y His senses were returning rapidly. The first face his eyes rested upon was his father’s, and with a smile of recognition, he murmured: “Father,” It was half playfully done, half sadly, Then looking up again, he cried: “Dad!” ‘My boy!—my boy!” faltered poor Harkaway. ‘Are you cross with me still? You—it wasn’t my fault —I fought hard, They were three against me, after striking down poor Harvey.” He sank back, The effort was too much for him, and it took the doctor some few minutes to bring him round again. “Tell dad not to be cross,” said young Jack, “T won’t tell him anything,” said the doctor, with an assumption of sternness he was very far from feeling, ‘unless you promise to be very calm and quiet,’’ “T will—I will.” “Then I daresay Mr. Harkaway thou igh damme if I know for what,” breath. The next moment Harkaway was kneeling on the ground beside his boy, and there father and son, once more united, mingled their tears. will forgive you he added, under his CHAPTER XXV, Ir was some time before they could venture to moye the unfortunate boy. But when once they could get him back home, his re- turn to health was not a very long job. Now, it was about a fortnight after the events just narrated that one evening, just towards dusk the Hark- away family were all assembled, talking over the strange fate and absence of Dick Harvey. “Poor Harvey,” said Harkaway, ju reply to Emily. At this moment three visitors were announced. They proved to be Mr, Nabley and his brother detect- ive, ee Pike, in company with young Harry Gird- wood. , rk ou mentioned Mr. Harvey,” said Pike, “I have news of him, “Tell us quickly, then,” said Jack, for Hilda had re- tired a few minutes before, — - “Tt took- me a great deal of trouble to find him, but at length I managed to discover the chamber where he was lying apparently at death’s door.” “T had him moved; a first-rate physician has restored him, and here he is.’ ‘ At the word Dick rushed into the room and greeted his old friends, “But where is Hilda?” he asked, looking round, “Not far off,” said Emily. In a few minutes more all were happily reunited, and the detectives retired with a handsome reward, taking young Girdwood with them. The latter was the inseparable companion of the two English detectives now. He devoted himself to hunting down the murderers of his beloved brother Oliver. His whole life was devoted to it. Now it fell out that soon after that alarming encounter in the woods which young Jack and his monkey had with Hunston and ‘Toro, Harry Girdwood went to the scene of the strife one night to take observations, His object was clear, The Bowery gang had mysteriously fled, Disappeared. But where? He held a yery decided opinion that the Bowery gang intended sailing away with Captain Clemmans. The time for their departure was not yet up. Meanwhile, they had some hiding-place. Harry Girdwood hovered about the wood night and morning. At length his perseverance was rewarded. He came upon three of the party unexpectedly, Hunston was one. j ‘Toro was another, The third man he had some difficulty in recognizing at t it was Protean Bob, — we } ft are: p - alt 19 Tt was here that these desperadoes lurked and skulked away. Harry Girdwood crept into the thick brushwood close t their very feet. It was a dangerous game to play. y But he thonght of his peor murdered brother, and nerved himself up for the task. “Have you got any news, Emmerson?” asked Hunsten. ‘‘When shall we go, then?” “That you can know to-morrow if you like.” **What hour?” “T cannot say, but early.” ‘Will you bring us the news?? demanded Toro. “No; I have to be elsewhere, and I want one of you to go on a message for C down Broadway. I think you had better do that,” “7?” said Hunston. “*Yeg,”? “why?” “Toro’s big body is a sort of landmark, and is likely to betray both himself and us.” “True.? i “Very good,” said Toro; “then T’ll be here,” “Clemmans? messenger will whistle as he crosses the water.” “Very good; I will answer,” And after this they separated. Then, when the coast was clear, Harry Girdwood crept out of his hiding place and hurried off to Fifth avenue, eee he sought first Nableyand Daniel Pike, the, de- ctives, To them he confided all that he had heard. And then a grand expedition was organized. The two detectives and Harry Girdwood went off. to lay Hunston by the heels, Harkaway, Harvey, Jefferson, Magog Brand, the twe darkeys and young Jack went after Toro. ee which party shall I attach myself2” asked Mr, ole. “Why, sir?” said young Jack. “Why, because I must do my share,” replied the tutor pompously, “Tn what respect, sir?” demanded his punil, “Tt is likely to inspire the enemy with a wholesome fear, in fact, great dread, when he hears my name.”, Young Jack stuffed his handkerchief into his mouth to stifle his laughter. “Yes, Jack, my boy, I shall first bid farewell to Mrs, Mole; for as I shall tackle this giant brigand single-hand- ed, I think it better to -say farewell to my dear wife, in case I should not return aliye.” r: “Oh, Mr. Mole,” cried Jack, “no fear, Youll return to Mrs, Mole all alive, all alive, oh!” Mr. Mole made up his mind to go. And go he did. see raat Jack,” said ale his pupil, “thease soenes of ac! are my proper sphere. “Indeed, sir.” ai ie “Yes, I never shine to such advantage as when in 4 scrimmage of some kind.” “¥ should not have believed it, sir,” responded young Jack, comically, “unless you had told me yourself.” Mr, Mole was cross. \ “And why not? Do you, then, take me for a coward?” “Good ious, no.” “J should hope not,” said Mr. Mole, with dignity. “In my earlier days I earned some not unmerited distine-~ tion, at least so the world has been good ag to by my address in action. Many’s the manI haye aid low with this powerful arm, Jack, my boy.” “Tndeed, sir,” “One's reputation is sure to cling to one, TI shall go; in all probability I may be of very signal service, and perhaps be the means of saving all your lives.” “Tam glad, sir, you will go.” “Yes, my dear boy,” replied the great Mole; ‘fear no’ for inthe hour of danger my courage and power sree the giant tremble.” nd the noble Mole departed, leaving young Jack to ini fig explain to his father Mr. Mole’s intention of ting the brigand single-handed, They started before daybreak, and crossed the water as quietly as possible. id. They had not long to wait. Toro was eager to learn the news,.and got te the ap- pointed spot before the time. Just as he arrived, he heard a whistle from the water. , “They are here,” said the Italian half aloud. | Toro took a whistle from his pocket, and blew the ans, wering call, It echoed shrilly in the forest for awhile. Then some- thing whizzed through the air, Before he could utter a word, a rope flew over his head and as it dropped to his elbows, it tightened. There was a jerk, and down he was d@ by the lasso, which had been so dexterously thrown over him by Magog Brand. Amoment more, and the murderer and brigand was surrounded by the whole of the Harkaway party. CHAPTER XXVI, CAUGHT, , Cacep at last, The brigand struggled and wrestled like 4 seeond Samson. *.. But it would have taken something more than the strength of even that hero to haye Liebe his bonds. ‘The assembled enemies of the brigan: mn every hand stood a f m every hand stood a foo, Here was Sunday, holding a hatchet, ready to bury its ly blade in the prisoner’s head should he s desperate struggles, to set himself free, Besides Sunday stood young giant with a La ext to you ack stood armed with pistol in each Ms our old friend Isaac Mole, se , : + fed, formed a for- ith tol in eack bend, 5 be 1s in abet J round his waist, and a long sword ry his si can contrive, in Jack, covering the writh- b

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oe — Ce —————— But Mr. Mole was evidently in doubt about his own BARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. At any rate, he would not look at this hideous thing address in the handling of firearms, for he held them at | which was to choke the breath of life out of him. arm’s length and averted his gaze. : Had they chanced to explode, itis probable that he would have done more damage to his own party than to the prisoner. Next to Mr. Mole stood Dick Harvey, still pale and weak from Toro’s attack, and Jack Harkaway. And, although Toro saw all this, he struggled on, Had he been unfortunate eneugh to wriggle himself free from his cords, he would have been done to death before he could have stirred from the spot. But luckily for him, he could not. Little Magog Brand came up just then with Monday. “Now, freinds all,” he said, with so cheerful an air that no one eould have anticipated the proposition which he was about to make; “shall we get the noose ready?” Toro heard, This was evident enough, for the words sank deeply into his soul. : They meant to hang him, 7He felt sure that his fate was sealed when once he was trapped, yet the thoughts of death by strangulation were dreadful to him, The Italian ruffian was, of course, no coward, No, he was brave enough in his way. Yet his courage was of that peculiar cast which would Jead him to face death in action—meet the most for- midable foes you could find him—aye, even at the can- non’s mouth, but he could not mect his fate coolly as a Briton or a Yankee would. He turned livid. “Shall we hang de tief,” asked Monday, “or shall we tie be up and roast him fust? De big beast roast well. There spoke the savage, Long intercourse with the Harkaways had smoothed it down, you see, but could not entirely eradicate the natural instincts of the ex-Prince of Limbi. “Tet’s tie um up and whip um up a bit?” suggested Sunday. “No,” “Only a little bit, Massa Harkaway.” pleaded the darkey. But Harkaway weeld not hear of it. “We are not wild Indians, net are we savages,” said he. “He has earned his death, and dio he must; but we are civilized people, and cannot put a fellow creature to death by torture,” The silence of the surrounders showed clearly enough that they entirely with this sentiment. “What shall we do with him?” said Harvey. “Burn him like a ole possum up a gum tree,” suggest- ‘ed Sunday. “Tie him up by his toes to a tree,” added Monday. put bulletin dis “De big villain tie Massa Jack up and child’s ribs.” f “Let's hang him,” persisted Magog Brand. ‘‘And do it at once to get the vermin out of our sight.” Toro scowled at the speaker, He could have almost met his fate with resignation, if he could but have annihilated the dwarf first. “True,” said Harkaway. ‘Mr. Brand is right; but should we not give him up to justice?” “Justice is here. Shall he hang?” “Remember, Massa Harkaway,” said Monday, ‘‘de big brute nearly kill Massa Jack twice, and perhaps him do it quite third time.” “Well,” said Harkaway, ‘he has lived like acur, he has warred against boys and women, and no enemy has eon too small for him. Let him hang like a rabid cur; ho deserves his fate.” Toro writhed, Every vein in his huge carcase swelled with his mighty struggle to free himself from bondage. His face and forehead grew purple, until it was hide- ous to look upon him, for you would have expected each moment to see the blood start from his eyes or nostrils. This was torture. His more civilized captors did not understand torture according to the Limbian programme, nor as the darkey’s African brother would suggest. But they tortured him far worse than any physical agony could possibly have done. The scathing contempt they showed for him até into his very soul. You have often seen how he writhed under the biting tongue of his fellow-ruffian, Hunston. How much more, then, must he have suffered now?” Now, curious to relate, amidst all this bitter hatred shown to the captive giant, the one person who felt in- clined to relent was the one who had been the greatest sufferer from his violence, _ Young Jack, He was not squeamish. He did not fear the sight of blood, but he could not endure to contemplate such utter helplessness. He would not haye cared had Toro fallen in fight. ' But there was a grim solemnity about the condemning es to death incold Blood, which horrified oy. “We are all agreed?” demanded the dwarf. / “Yes.” ; erent vokce responded with the fatal monosyllable , Bhat “Yes” sounded in Toro’s ears Ife a death knell. .' The miserable man fought hard with his feelings. He shuddered in spite of himself, Now came the fatal order: ~ “Get ready the rope.” The heart of the man mountain, this mammoth tyrant, ay rae S his very pp hag teat C} ‘tongue and clenched to prevent their chattering. 2 “Hyar’s de rope, Massa,” said Sunday; “I’s made a ‘evingly noose; me show it him,” “Yes, let him see it,” eried Monday; “it am better rope and stronger dan him use for poor Massa Jack in _ de woods,” ; Toro shut his eyes, So he thought. So he resolved, But think you he could keep to this purpose? No, struggle as he would, it had a fatal fascination for him, and he was forced to open his eyes to look upon the cool, deliberate preparations being made for his own execution, “Tet me see the rope,” said Harkaway. “Here, sar.” He took the rope and tried the noose against his knee as hard as he could, And as he tugged, the fear-stricken wretch upon the ground drew mental agonizing pictures of the rope about his own throat, and thought how he should look as his face was conyulsed with che death agony. But Harkaway never thought of this, His sole purpose was to see that the noose was prop- erly made, and that the doomed man should not suffer any unnecessary pain. It slipped a little way and then % stopped. “Sunday.” “tYes, sar.” “Come here,” ie hegsd hed, hanging his head, The negro approached, ead, “This will not do, Sunday,” ead Harkaway. “‘Why not, sir?” “Why not? You know why not; it would slip half way and thus cause him endless agony.” “Him not die too quick, sar,” said Sunday; ‘‘die a lit- tle bit at a time like, nice and comfortable.” In spite of the solemnity of the occasion, they could not help forgiving Sunday’s idea of making their enemy die “nice and comfortable.” ‘Let it be properly done,” said Harkaway, sternly. “¢Yes, sar.” The cheerfulness with which he assented made Harka- way still have his misgivings. “T have already said once, Sunday,” he said, ‘‘that we don’t want to torture him. We want to put him out of the way of doing more mischief, as we would kill a scor- pion or any other venomous reptile, but we will not have him put to any unnecessary pain.” ‘6Yes, sar,” The making of the noose was taken out of .Sunday’s hands, and personally superintended by Magog Brand, It was tested fairly and found to be satisfactory. “Ready.” The rope was thrown .across the branch of the nearest tree. Tore caurned faint. “Up with him.” They got about him, and lifted him from the ground. Sunday got his hand down the prisoner’s neckcloth, and contrived to give him a wrench or two that became each instant more and more unendurable. “Aha, Massa Toro poro!” said the negro, kicking up his legs gleefully; ‘take that, and that!” And “that,” we can assure you, was not pleasant. As Sunday had dropped upon a place which caused the prisoner the liveliest agony, he did not fail to profit by it. He pressed harder and harder there, and Toro yelled with pain until Harkaway interfered. “That is against orders, Sunday,” he said, sharply, “Him a dam tief, sar, and he make dis chile smell per- tiklar agony on him nose once, sar, in de hotel, and now dis chile give him toko!” 5 He did it, too. ‘Toko being administered—whaterer “toko” might be —the unhappy prisoner yelled with pain. “Ory out, you cuss! you polecat! you wiper! you rat!” At each epithet he gave Toro some little proof of his attention, “Brave savage!” exclaimed Toro, bitterly, “worthy of your brave masters, You can torture a prisoner when he is well tied up, and when you are at least ten to one.” “Sunday,” said Harkaway, sternly, “‘unless you desist you sball not stay here,” “All right, massa,” And then he gave him a final dig. It was a good one, too. Toro turned deadly pale with rage. “Brave men,” he said, with a sneer of profound con- tempt, “bold hearts! Why, if I had my arms free, you wou f fly for your very lives—aye, all of you, craven curs Oho!” laughed Magog Brand, “Be not so boastful,” cried Harvey, “Did you not in a most cowardly way take advantage of me, and strike me brutally, when helpless, and on the ground? If you had been a brave man, you would stood before ine on equal terms.” “True,” said Harkaway, ‘the is a coward, for he was one of three that tried to take the life of a young boy.” “So I know, to my sorrow,’ said young Jack. “ButI wouldn’t haye him tortured, brutally as he used me.” “You are about as humane as the rest of them,” re- torted the giant, with a sneer. “Tet him go,” said young Jack, ‘He'll promise never to molest us any more.” “He'll promise, perhaps,” said Harvey, ‘‘but we know how much he would keep to his word.” “Come, we are losing time,” said the dwarf, The rope was got ready. The end was thrown over the tree, The noose was around the brigand’s neck. “Tf you have any last wish to make,” said Harkaway, “any yer to utter, now is the time. You must die, Toro, but I would not endanger your future life as well as this.” He changed color, But never a word escaped him, The last moment was near, “Sunday.” “Yes, sar.” | “Take the end of that rope.” Yes, sar.’? “Be ready.” ‘Quite ready, Massa Harkaway, Shall I pull up?” = - —_—_— It was shocking to hear his cheerful yoiceas he said this. No one could have dreamt that he was talking of send ing a fellow-creature out of the world, “You have nothing to say?” asked Harkaway of the brigand. Not a word, A slight gnawing of the lip. A faint shudder shook his frame. Otherwise you would scarcely have known that the doomed man was cognisant of what was going on. A pause. ‘“‘Sunday,” said the dwarf, in dull, solemn tones, that inspired the listeners with awe, ‘ready! Sunday gave a tug, the rope strained, and Toro the giant was swinging in the air, * * * * *. * * Suddenly a loud and stern voice was heard, “Stop that!” The speaker was Jefferson. He had been quiet for some time, Then the huge American, with a stroke of his knife, severed the rope, and Toro dropped on tothe ground, considerably frightened, but little hurt. “I’m not going to look on and see a man—well not a man—a skunk like that wiped out in cold blood.” ‘What do you mean?” “T won’t have it. Get up, Toro,” The lattter obeyed. “Hark you,” said Jefferson, ‘‘You are an outrageous— the biggest villain I ever came across, but you shall have a chance for your life.” The Italians face lighted up at this. “Do you hear me, a chance for your life?” “Yes,” “Then answer me quickly,” retorted Jefferson, “or 1% leave you to the rope. Have you any courage left?” “More than the rest of the company put together, it strikes me,” said Toro sullenly. ‘*Modest man,” said Magog Brand, with a dry laugh. ‘Well, my friend,” said Jefferson, ‘now here’s a prop= osition for you. You can have your choice.” “Speak,” “You can be hanged if you like, or you can be set free and fight it out.” ‘With all? Well, you are almost enough for me,” said Toro, looking around him, “J don’t mean with all,” answered Jefferson, “only with one.” “Which?” “Me. ” “Tumph!” . The brigand looked just a little bit uneasy. It was undeniably a joyous thing to escape death upon any terms, and such a death, | But Toro had once a slight brush with Jefferson, you will remember, And the recollection of it was anything but pleasant, Im all his life he had encountered but one simgle nar with whom he feared to cope, i ‘This man was Jefferson, the American, “Well, what do you say?” “T consent.” “You will fight for your life?” ey will.” It was reluctantly given. It was, however, a matter of choice between two ovila Bad as it was, he naturally regarded this as the least, “Set his arms free,” said Jefferson, coolly. » i f At this point, Harkaway thought it high time to inter. ere. “Jefferson,” he said, “this must not be.” “Why not?” “Because it is tempting Providence,” “How?” ; ; “He is delivered into our hands, and you have no right to run any risk in the matter. I feel that it is quite law- ful to put the villain out of the way of doing further mischief,” \ “That’s my intention,” said the Kentuckian, grimly; “only I like todo it in my own way, that’s all. TI don’t like murder; it doesn’t agree with my notions at all.” “But why should you risk your life? Hehas done me more harm than you, and if he must fight for his lif let me be the man that tries strength and skill agains him,” cried Harkaway. “And I say—” “Say nothing, Harkaway,” replied the other, interrupt. ing him, “for it will make bad blood between’ ua if you interfere. It will sever our friendship altogether.” ‘This was enough. P Harkaway liked Jefferson too well to press the matter further, “Out the cords,” This was obeyed, if “Stand clear,” said Jefferson. “and give us plenty of room and no favor. Now clear away.” ‘This was done. The two darkies climbed up into the branches of a tree, from which they commanded an excellent view ¢ the scene, ‘‘Harkaway,” said the Kentuckian, “Yes,” : “You have heard the understanding between ys; my word must be attended to.” “Tt shall.” “Tf he gets the best of it, he is to go free,” “Very good.” | “And I know you will not go against this, my wieh,” “Ag it is your wish, Jefferson, of course not.” “Very good.” 4 , “Toro glanced about him with a restless look, which, however, did not escape the lynx-eyed Kent ; “Tf he should attempt to bolt, you will shoot gig; dows as remorselessly as if he were a rabid dog,” “We will.” : * * “Stand clear, then.” : “Now then, Signor Toro, when you are rea fy.’ This was a moment of breathless interest. The Italian closed his eyes in a semi-sleepy y and peered at his adversary through lis lasbas, Annee at - 7; Sv i,"

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He waited a moment, hoping to taks him off his guard. Then, as Jefferson turned his head for a moment tow- ards Magog, the huge Italian came at him, like a bull that he got his name from, Jefferson was ready, however. He stepped back, drew in his right arm, and then, as Toro caine, he shot it outfull at him with his whole force, A dull, heavy thud followed, and Toro’s huge frame quivered all over. It steadied him in his headlong rush—dazed him. As he shook his head, half stunned at that steam ham- mor, you could see upon his forehead the sign of such a blow as would have pnt an end to you or any smaller jpan upon the instant, Lh) ef id “Bravo, Massa Jefferson,” cried Sunday, up in the tree, “Dat was a stinger,” said Monday. It was indeed a doughty blow, and Toro did not ap- ar to want any more of the kind. “Come along, Toro,” said Jefferson; “there is more waiting.” , Toro paused, but quickly went at it again. Jefferson put his fists up, and as Toro got within shot again, he let fly. Toro guarded wildly, but Jefferson planted his blews just when and where he pleased, y And he pleased to plant them pretty well all over that huge carcase, . One, two, and one on the chest. “Bang!” cried Sunday, in absurd delight, “Dat’s done bim good!” The sight of his own blood made the brigand furious. Herushed upon Jefferson with the fury of a wild beast. And much to the surprise of all, Jefferson fell to the ground, borne down by the great force of the brigand’s powerful blow, But before he could throw himself on Jefferson, the latter was om his feet, and bya straight hit from the shoulder he drove Toro back. Spank! One on the cheek. Ding-dong—two more in sharp succession. “Postman’s knock,” cried Jetferson, langhing. The jeers of the two niggers made the Italian mad. He made another rush at the American, and closing with him suddenly, again brought him with a heavy thud. the ground, Quick as thought Jefferson was up and the brigand down. Toro went at it again and again, vainly endeavoring to close with his adversary. ma each tim he got a fresh visitation of an alarming The brigand’s blood flowed freely. Jefferson had shown the spectators something which they bad by no means been prepared for. He was a splendid boxer. Words cannot describe the pent-up fury of the pas- sionate Italian giant at the bitterness of the humiliation thus put upon him, Goaded finally on to utter madness by the jeers of the two niggers in the tree, he gathered himself together for one mighty effort. Ducking his head to'avoid the sledge-hammer fists of the terrible American, he rushed at him, intending to butt him in the stomach. Jefferson waited for him. Then stepping aside in the very nick of time, he swung his clenched fist round, caught him fairly upon the ear, and stretched him senseless upon the ground, OHAPTER XXVII, “Bravol” “Hurrah!” ' *Phree checrs for Mr, Jefferson!” cried young Jack. “That last was a most elegaut chop,” said Mr. Mole, who had been shivering with fright from behind a tree from the moment they had cut the brigand’s bonds, ‘most elegant. I declare it almost reminds me of my best days.” “You're pilin’ it on, Mr, Mole,” said Jefferson smil- ing. fim sincere,” said Mr. Mole, blandly. ‘That was one of my favorite hits,” “Indeed.” y “Fact, sir.” “That's quite true,” said young Jack, maliciously. “I remember that you taught Mr. Pike that hit, when you gave him boxing lessons on board.” “Eh, what?” He did not like that hint. He felt sure that young Jack must be laughing at him, Be ne ee present, alian lay still, m i ugeehin Feed ae roy ase) insensible. The darkies did not re help the briguca, ot care to move from their perches to og Brand ran f. i Sows he revived, ‘or water and dashed it in his face, ey washed the blood helped nim towdie, from his face and head, and ‘Now, Signor Maccaroni.” r think you'll be more civil intdinrt ert ree ae his bruised head, © ou have earned the right bitterly: “laugh ome” ight to scoff at me,” he said, sek ane want to langh —”? “Oh, you can; yon have it all your own way, Butin my country we don’t consider it € Foner at generous to rail at a “Nor here either.” “So it appears,” muttered Toro, bitterly, “The scoundrel,” ejaculated Harvey. “Does he ex- _pect generous treatment? Why, where would any one of us have been had the conditions béen reversed?’ Sup- posing any one of us had been in the power of gang, what mercy would you haye shown? Considera- tion, you unblushing vagabond?” _ Byery word Harvey said wag full of reagon, } ‘our | by HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. 2a te What indeed would have been the fate of any unfor- tunaty individual who had fallen into their clutches? They had shown often enough what mercy they could show. “You can laugh at your triumph,” said Toro, “but it is not so great after all,” “Indeed.” “Oho!” “No, indeed,” “And why?” “Yes, why?” asked Magog Brand. ‘I am curious to hear what new impudence the raseal hag to advance.” “We are not used to fight like that,” said Toro, “like savages. This is your American civilization,” “Beg pardon, Signor Maccaroni,” said Jefferson, with a good humored laugh, ‘nothing of the kind, That's British. I inherit that by instinct, by virtue of English blood, from my English mother, God bless her!” “Your mother—” “Now, silence!” said Jefferson, seremptorily, ‘for if you let your foul tongue utter one syllable against my mother, you’ll get goss, I promiseyou. You mayn’t like my English instincts, but by gum, sir, youll relish my American instincts still less, I reckon.” “In civilized lands men fight otherwise.” “How?” _ . “With that?” He pointed here to a bowie knife which Magog carried in his belt. “Are you better at that than the other?” inquired Jef- ferson, carelessly, Toro’s eyes glistened, ” aor wouldn’t care to face me if I had that in my and “Oh, yes, I should.” “Bah!” “How d’ye spell it?” asked the American, with comic contempt, “Give it me and try.” “Willingly,” said Jefferson, calmly, to him.” Magog obeyed. Yes, to the unutterable horror and dismay of most of the spectators, they absolutely armed the formidable Italian with a knife. Jefferson the same instant plucked out his own bowie, and stood upon guard. “Tl not permit this,” said Harvey. And he would have rushed forward, But the dwarf held him back, “Stand back, Mv, Harvey,” he said, sternly. “If you pee meddle in it, yowll get our man spiked by that giant. , “Oh, Mr; Brand, Mr, Brand!” exclaimed Harvey, ‘this must not be allowed.” “what?” “What have you done?” “Nothing.” “Jefferson will be stabbed—killed perhaps.” “Don’t you worry yourself. Jeff has shown you a taste of his quality, Now you just wait a bit.” “Toro,” said Jefferson, “this is your last chance; let nothing distract your attention, for I warrant you I shall take every advantage this, time. Your eye and your strong hand must save you, if vou are to be saved at all.” Toro grunted out an ungracious reply. Then he proceeded to take off his neckerchief and bind the knife to his hand with it. The same office was meanwhile performed for Jefferson by his trusty friend the dwarf. é “Settle it quickly, Jeff,” said Magog Brand. “Very good.”” ao bie amazing to hear the cool way in which they spoke it, Anyone would have,thought they were speaking of slaughtering a lamb or some helpless animal, instead of facing a formidable and armed enemy. “Now then, Poro,” said Jefferson, “‘are you ready? Look out—guard.” “Look to yourself,” cried the brigand, fiercely; “this time the game is against you.” “QGome on,” said the American; ‘‘you waste time.” It was 2 desperate sight to behold. Two huge men, armed with deadly weapons, ready to drink each other’s life blood. It was a fearsome sight to see them crouching and creeping round each other, with their eyes fixed with fierce intensity on each other's, Each waiting to spring. Involuntarily it called up descriptions of the gladatorial combats in the Roman arenas of old. Slowly, cautiously they trod the ground, The lookers-on held their breaths in suspense, “Hah!” An involuntary gasp of fear from the whole of the spectators, “Look, look!” “He’s down!” Jefferson had stumbled over something. Toro the giant was upon him instantly, But Jefferson, catching himself nimbly, had only fallen upon one knee, and qui¢k as an eye could wink, he was upon his guard. As Toro bored in with uplifted knife, he caught his wrist. Then with a mighty effort he dragged himself up, And now, in the space of twénty seconds, there ensued ht scene of such pent-up excitement as baflles descrip- on, 1 Jefferson struck as he rose, but being taken somewhat at a disadvantage, the Italian with a dexterous jerk ald the knife fairly out of of his hand, and sent it ying. Fear—a deadly fear was expressed in every face, Their gallant champion was worsted. Harkaway was about to step forward, but was stopped eos loud yoice- 4 ” : rep b ack, keep back! “Magog, give it “The ae a aunt i ; Jefferson had shown how he could fight on equaf erms, He now showed how he could fight in the face of dis. aster, He grappled his collossal enemy boldly. Gave him one mighty hug, then, lifting him fairly off his legs, he threw him over his hip on to the ground. In such a way was it done, that when the Italian meas- ured his length upon the ground, his own knife was seen buried up to the very hilt in his side. The fight was over. They ran in and closed round the ex-brigand. Not a sigh—net a breath, It was all over. “There,” said Jefferson, adjusting his disordered dress in the coolest manner in the world; ‘‘that’s over, and I don’t think that that skunk will worry us any more.” Toro, the brigand and murderer, had indeed this time met with more than his match in the brave American. “Your American and English blood seem to mingle welk together, Jefferson,” said Harkaway, advancing. “You are indeed a fine representative of two nations mingled in one.” “Right, Harkaway,” cried Jefferson; ‘and you are & fine, bold Englishman, Give me your hand.” And then the American, with the grip of @ vice, seized the hand of Jack Harkaway. CHAPTER XXVIII. Our friends gazed in silence on the Italian, brigand for some time, “Itis a just fate for the villain,” said Harkaway, after a long silence; ‘‘but what shall we do with the body?” “Oh, leave the fellow here,” said Jefferson. “TI dare- say some of the pee will find an opportunity of giving the body decent burial.” en Harkaway and his friends returned home, after gin silence one more look at the giant brigand, * * * * * * * 2 Y cas Mr. Mole’s nerves being out of order, he was recom~ mended to take sea baths, Soashort trip was got up to an adjacent watering place. It was upon the occasion of Mr, Mole’s second sea bath — that he met with an adventure. Sunday used to drive the whole bathing party, consist- ing of himself and brother Monday, young Jack, and Mr. Mole, down to the particular spot of the coast where they were in the habit of taking their daily dip. On the first morning, they were just nearing the bath~ ing place, when suddenly there was a rush, a deep, bay~ ing sound, and a huge hound bounded over the hedge. 2 *‘What a fine fellow!” exclaimed young Jack, : “Beau’ful!” added Monday. | “Big as a donkey.” “A very fine Newfoundland,” suid Mr, Mole, putting im his eyeglass. “EDP . “what?” added Monday, with a grin. ©Mr, Mole is not ‘doggy,’ ” explained yo Jack; ‘he doesn’t know the difference between a ound and a Newfoundiand.” __ The laugh that this created put Mr. Mole upon his dignity at once, 5 “Master Harkaway,” said he, grandly, “I have kept Newfoundlands and bloodhounds too, before you were born or thought of.” “Indeed, sir.” “Yes, sir, and poodles and terriers too, as well as greys hounds, staghounds, foxhounds; in fact, every kind of hound. Noman was more ‘dogyy,’ as you were pleased to call it,” “T should never have thought it,” said young Jack. “No, you are a thoughtless youth,” said Mr, Mole, “True sir.” ite bloodhound came bounding up to the side of the ap, “Keep off, you ugly debil,” said Sunday. “Moderatejyour language, you nigger,” said Mr. Mole, ‘Dat Tiger ami berry exceedingly damn. dangerous, brudder Mole,” “Pish!” said Mr. Mole; “pshaw and tush likewise, Tiger, indeed!” “Yes, sar; Tiger.” “Bloodhound,” “Tiger’s the animal’s name, brudder Mole.” Just then the dog jumped up, and made a snap, seenme~ ingly at Sunday’s legs. Sunday gave a howl and dropped the reins. They were, however, very promptly caught by Mon-+ day, who whipped up and drove on rapidly, But Tiger was not to be shaken off. He bounded after the trap, barking ina way that ap- peared to frighten poor Sunday out of his seven senses, “You craven-hearted crew,” said Mr. Mole, “what is there to be afraid of?” “Tiger.” “He shan’t hurt you. If you are afraid, I will tackle the creature single-handed, and drive him off,” said the brave Mole, “He eat you, sar.” “That ’ere damn cannibal, brudder Mole, eat three nig- gers. Him a reg’lar ole nigger hunter, and he like de smell ob nigger’s flesh. He wants to taste dis chile, se sure.”” . “ Rubbish!” ‘He do, he do,” Tiger barked and jumped up slyly, eneouraged by Monday, and Sunday appeared to grow more and more alarmed at every step, “There,” said Isaac Mole, looking about him, “there you see the infinite superiority of the white over the col. ored races; fancy a white man being afraid of a dog.” “Taney,” echoed young Jack, who smelt fun afar off. “Though that dog might have eaten forty nig; I should think no more of tackling him than of pla with a pet poodle. Here, boy! hi, boy! here! here!” He held out his hand over the side of the cart, but when the bleodhound jumped at him, he withdrew it | very sharply, x —

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22 . “And so they say he has eaten a nigger?” said Mr, Mole. sar,” “Yes, “A whole nigger?” “Yysry morsel, sar,” Mr. Mole smilled superciliously at this. . He must have a wonderful digestion; for my part, I’d gooner have a nice dinner of shark or toasted crocodile zhan the tenderest nigger that was ever raised.” _ “Ora donkey,” suggested young Jack. ‘Yes, or a donkey.” “Dat looks as if Magsa Mole was a cannibal too,” said Monday, readily. ‘ Young Jack laughed heartily at this, but at - the same time he explained to Monday that he was mistaken in calling Mr. Mole a cannibal because of his preference for donkey, inasmuch as cannibalism meant eating one’s own species. “Dat’s it, Massa Jack,” said Monday. Mr. Mole’s speechy; yah, yah!” At this moment, a turnin the road brought them in sight of alow hut, at the door of which stood the very man with the gun whose sudden appearance up the road ‘with the bloodhound had so startled the party. He had returned across the country. “Hi, Tiger, Tiger!’’ he called. The dog ran off immediately. “Are we near the rocks?” asked young Jack, “Close by,” replied the man with the gun. “You have a fine dog there.” | ‘have! and as good as he’s handsome,” “Dangerous?” “Sometimes.” “Bark much?” 1 “Only b toe?” ald Jack, laughing M y bites?” 8: young Ja ug) 'e “J didn’t say only bites. Hoe worries and gnaws.” | “Would he pull down a man?” asked young Jack. “Some,” replied the cottager, significantly. “He could tackle a nigger?” ‘a nigger!” replied the man, grimly; ‘‘a dozen.” This confirmed what Sunday had said. So Mr. Mole thought that it would be as well to pro- pitiate both dog and master. So he held out a bit of biscuit at Tiger, who first gene at his master for permission to take it, and then © jumped up and snapped the biscuit out of Mr. Mole’s hand so suddenly that the lattler drew back his hand much quicker than he had advanced it. It was rather curious to remark that, although Sunday had professed to be so frightened of the bloodhound, he _ got out cf the trap and walked past him to the rear of the cottage, where an old woman was engaged grubbing about a bit of garden ground. “T gee you've got Tiger still, Mrs. Grubbins,” said Sanday. The old woman stared hard at Sunday for a minute be- fore she recognized him. “What, that you Jex?” “Yes,” said Sunday, ‘‘dat me, Liz Gubbins.” “What on airth, sar, you dewing here?” ask Mrs. Gubbins. “Come down our parte agin?” “Yes, Mrs. Gubbins,” replied Sunday, ‘for a spell.” Then he whistled shrilly once or twice, and the blood- Lagi Tiger came bounding round to the back of the ouse. “Tiger, Tiger!” said Sunday; “don’t you know your ee friend?” The dog sniffed about for a minute and then whinnied in token of recognition, and carressed the negro in a way that would have astonished Mr. Mole, who had heard ae described as a sort of natural enemy to colored folks. “You don’t forget, do you, Tiger?” The Sbloodhound jumped up and licked and caressed his old friend, Now when Tiger stood up on his hind legs, he was as tall as Sunday—a truly formidable beast, “ Air you gwine to make a stay about these parts, Ceasar?” asked Mrs, Gubbins, ““On’y a while. My boss has to bathe, and so we'll be here every day.” And with this he went back to the front of the cottage, where the party, having refreshed themselves and re- warded Mr. Gubbins, prepared to resume the journey. “Massa Jack!” “Yes, Sunday.” r “Would you like to hab a lark wid Massa Mole?” ( Jack chuckled. ; “Can a duck swim?” “T can tell you how to hab jolly fun, den, Massa Jack, to-morrow morning, if you like.” And when Sunday imparted his scheme to young Jack, and to Monday, it was highly approved of, and it was all arranged, _ Thenext morning, justas they passed the Gubbin’s cottage, Tiger came bounding out after them, and again Sunday dropped down at the bottom of the trap in ab- Jeet terror. ee ity, Massa Jack,” he cried, ‘‘keep him off.” 3) , Sunday,” said young Jack, ‘Keep snug.” Tiger barked and jumped up, and Sunday seemed to grow more and more terrified every moment, Mr. Mole smiled and then laughed outright at poor Sunday’s fears, a i ridiculous to see a man so frightened of a dog,” aid. “Drive it away; Bruddsr Mole,” implored Sunday. “Dat dog eat us all up; drive im off.” “T will,” said Mr. Mole, blandly. fe et leaned over the side of the trap and chivied Tiger: way. But the faithful animal bounded after them again, and “nearing the cart, he jumped up, snapping and barking in away that shook Mr. Mole’s nerves in spite of his evi- _ dent desire to appear at ease in his mind. “Poor Tiger!” he said; “poor dog!” They reached the rocks, and Mr. Mole “Donkey am picked out the | and HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. nook where he left his clothes regularly, and here he hur- riedly undressed, Sunday did not bathe that morning. Ordinarily he was the first in the water, for he swam like a fish, and cut all kinds of capersin the water, to the amusement of all the party. He dared not go into the water according to his own account, “Dat tam Tiger’ll come and gobble dis chile up,” he said; ‘‘I’se ’fraid ob my life.” 3 But this, as you may suppose, was not strictly true. In fact, no sooner was the tutor inthe water, than Sunday glided behind the rocks and softly. whistled the bloodhound up. ; “You see dem clothes, Tiger?” hesaid, pointing to Mr. Moie’s garments. Tiger barked in reply. “You sit on ’em,” said Sunday, “and don’t you let no one touch ’em.” Tiger barked again, He understood what was said well enough, He squatted down upon the garments, and looked about him, as much as to say— “Who'll come and dislodge me? Come, if you dare.” And it would have been a brave man to attempt it, Young Jack and Monday were soon out of the water, according to 4 preconcerted arrangement, and Mr, Mole preperst to follow them, when he perceived “iger on uard, - “Call that dog off,” shouted Mr. Mole. “Tiger, Tiger!” called young Jack. But Tiger never moved. He had received his orders; they knew this well, and it was only Sunday who could have induced him to move. Sunday, however, was seemingly too’ frightened to approach the bloodhound. “Monday,” called Mr. Mele, ‘Monday, do you hear?” “Yes, sar.” ‘Drive him off.” “Oan’t, sar.” “You must.” *“Daren’t, sar.” “But I want my clothes,” cried Mr. Mole. “You frighten him off, Massa Mole,” answered Mon- day; ‘‘Tiger don’t care nuffin’ for a nigger.” **Nonsense,”” “He’s torn a poor fellow to bits to-day,” said young Jack, ‘‘and I don’t half like his looks.” “Rubbish!” “He'd be afraid of you,” said young Jack. Mr. Mole perceived that he was expected to show his prowess, and 60, although he scarcely relished the job, he advanced out of the water to within a few yards of the bloodhound, and endeavored to coax him off, “Good doy, good dog!” cried Mole. Tiger growled. Shen, as Mr. Mole drew nearer, he snarled, snapped. and showed his fangs, And such fangs, i pe dashed back into the water as though he was ot, “Can't anybody get him off?” said Mr. Mcle. getting the shivers and t to come out.” No one eculd, however, induce Tiger to move from his post. Isaac Mole, in sheer despair, approached the dog once more, for he had formed the somewhat rash resolye to drive him away. But oh, for his rashness! Alas! for his resolve! He tried to pursnade the bloodhound to quit his post, but he little knew Tiger’s sense of discipline. It would have been as easy to move%one of the pyra- mids of Egy t ag to dislodge the bloodhound, “Here, or said Mr. Mole, coaxingly. ‘Hi, Towzer! GOOF dog—beast! you wont move, eh?—here—st—st— st! He held an imaginary something in his hand which he expected Tiger to take for a tempting morsel of food, ‘Tiger looked, and even sniffed, but no more, Hyven his sniff was scornful, Tiger was iN oe ack, my dear boy where are you? Do please and tell Mrs. Mole to bring me some ethics epee mr No answer came from Jack, “You beast” said Mole, turning his attention once more to the dog; “I wish 1 hada gun ora pistol, I’d brain you—or I’d try at it—you beast! Oh, if I could only get my boot! It is very hard to be crippling one’s solitary foot while one’s solitary boot is under the cus- tody of a notorious man-eater! Oh! oh! my poor foot!’ He was on the shingles, and the truth was that they crippled him, in spite of his having a stick to. help him along, and just as he had got unusually vituperative, a nubbly pebble mangled his little toe cruelly. _ “Oh! confound the dog! The beast is inaccessible to argument—it’s as bootless as I am.” “Oh, that’s a joke,” cried young Jack, who was within hearing. “You've got your stick, Mr. Mole,” shouted young Jack; ‘why don’t you drop into him with it?—you’d drive him off.” “Tis all very well to say why? I’d precious soon show him if I had my clothes on.” . aoe won’t hurt you much, I dare say,” said young ack, “Him not gnaw you alot,” said Monday; ‘tyou too thin and gristly, Massa Mole.” “Yah! yah!” cried Sunday. oe Mr, Mole resolved to recover his boot at all haz- ards, With that he could mount the shingles fearlessly, he thought. So he made an effort. 4 Creeping up, he took his stick by the wet end and made a dash at the boot with the crook. “Uh—wah!” snarled Tiger, showing such fangs. With more haste than grace Mr. Mole retreated, Over he went down the beach head first. And then, ashe rose to the surface, he was spitting pluttering. ae Me a eg i ok s Dae a ie “Tm | zupt WiLL MEER Reaee ot “He’s got it dis time,” laughed Sunday, “Shipped a lot,” said young Jack, “Capital physic,” shouted Monday. ‘‘You hab water first and rum when you get home Massa Mole,” Isaac Mole was outraged. He arose majestically, and blew away his long, strag- gling, damp locks, which tickled his purple nose, Thoughts of dire vengeauce filled the tutor’s breast, “If I only had you in London for an hour,” he said, naking his stick at Tiger, ‘‘I’d teach you! They should soon find your bloated corpus floating gracefully on the bosom of old Father Thames. A nice bit of liver, sa- yored with a nice little something from the chemist’s, should soon wind up your clock, you beast!” He worked himself up into a towering rage, and was just going to throw his stick at the faithful bloodhound, when he fought better of it. His stick was.a crutch. His stick might yet haye te serve him as a weapon of defence, Ha! A brilliant thought! His leg! That wooden member was of little use momentarily, 80 Mr. Mole, balancing himeelf dexterously for a while on his natural leg, unscrewed his artificial limb. “Now you shall have it!” he muttered between his set teeth. He,meant it. Indeed, if Tiger only got half what Mr, Mole meant him to have, Tiger’s days were indeed numbered, Isaac Mole poised the wooden leg in‘his hand, “Now for it,” said the tutor, ‘‘one, two—I don’t care where I hit, for damme, I can’t get out of the water with- out my clothes—three!”’ The wooden leg flew straight at the mark. Yes, and what’s more, it might havelanded poor Tiger heavily, had he not at that identical moment bent his noble head to take a sniff at a diminutiy2 crab, whieh had just excited his curiosity by crawling past his paws, “Missed!” “Missed!” The word was echoed from behind the rocks, Young Jack. Monday and Sunday had seen it all. Des« pair! . And the most humiliating part of the business was that Tiger bent his noble head and only sniffed, and gazed occasionally at the unfortunate Isaac Mole with the same stolid indifference, { “A-chew!—dear me!” exclaimed the tutor. “I know I shall catch my aeath of cold, Oh, will no one fetch Mrs. Mole?” It was high time for the spectators to interfere. So Mr. Mole’s pupil took the initiative, + “Get Mr. Mole some other clothes,” said young Jack; — “do you hear, Sunday?” * Yes, sar’? . \ The darkey disappeared, and presently he brought some clothes bundled up under his arms, and Mr. Mole crawled ashore a few yards off bis own clothes. “Jack, my dear boy, it is very kind of you, but can. not some of you drive the brute away? What animag ic evidently a very dangerous one,” “He is,” “Be quick with my clothes, Anything to get back im, for if I catch cold, I had much better have stopped away altogether ” He took up one of the garments and shook it out. And then he gave a cry of amazement. . “What is this? There’s some mistake.” “A mistake?” said young Jack. “ “What mistake?” “This is an old woman’s gown” “No matter,” cried young Jack, ‘‘you will look well in anything, sir,” , *Dut's all I could get,” said Sunday. ‘‘Mother Gub- bins lent it for Massa Mole. She ain’t got no other, and ole Gubbins ain’t at home.” : “Confound old Gubbins!” exclaimed Mr, Mole; “I can never go along dressed up like that.” “Then don’t dress, sar,” suggested. Sunday; “come along with no clothes.” - “Tmpossible!”’ “You must,” “Ridiculous!” said Mr. Mole, ‘Besides, consider—” “Then you must drive Tiger away; Ican’t do it.” “Dear'me, dear me,” said the tutor, in considerable distress, ‘‘this is very unpleasant,” “Te it, sir.” “Sunday, or you, Monday, my dear friend, kindly lend me your clothes, and take my place in the water.” “Not if him knows it, sar,” cried Monday, with a grin; “dis child am bery well with his clothes on, You better eh home in de old woman’s gown; you look a bery fine gal.” } “What, inthe gown?” “Yes, sar.” **Nonsense,” i ig “Shall we go on, sir?” asked young Jack, slyly, “and — tell the old: woman you don’t want her clothes?’ “No, no,” replied Mr. Mole, quickly; “Pd better go home in her old gown than nothing.” And so he began to dress, , When once they got him into the gown the rest was comparatively easy. Fi There was a bonnet of white straw, and of that shape which our grandmothers knew as the “coal scuttle,” and a shawl as well. And inthis eccentric garb Mr. Mole frotted back te ia trap, while his companions were convulsed with laughter, j ‘ HNfaasi Mole makes a Iubly gal,” said Monday, witha — grin; “on’y it’s a pity dat his petticoats ain’t lenge, Bad i he looks like one ob dem young gals what dances theayter.” _— WHEREIN MR, MOLE MORTALLY OFFENDS A | YANKEE. tans Moun’s adventure at the bath with terminated his stay there, — i A rade ha

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> HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. Wext morning Mr. Mole received notice that a letter of | hey’ turned the tap on my ringulets, I'd lift his hair— tmportance was waiting for him at the Harkaways’ resi- | some.” dence in New York. Mr. Mole was glad enough to depart, as he had been thinking and dreaming ever since that he had been torn to pieces by the man-eating dog, Tiger. On arriving at New York with young Jack, they learned some highly interesting news from their friends. After that di rate battle of the giants, the party had paid another visit to the woods to see if the vanquished ‘Toro’s body was still there, But judge of their astonishment when they found that the body had disappeared, There could be but one way of accounting for this. The ex-brigand’s comrades had carried itoff. They jearned also, to their intense disappointment and dis- gust, that the rest of the Bowery gang had escaped in the ese by Captain Clemmans. But whither boun “J understand their ship has sailed for the China Seas,” said the detective, éntering at that moment, “but we'll have them.” Harkaway handed Mr, Mole his letter. “Sygan he had scanned it down once, he cried—‘Oh, my: “Oh, yours!” said Harvey. “Oh, his!” said young Jac! “T beg you will not conjugate in such loud tones,” said Mr. Mole, smiling complacently. “This letter is an official document. It is from one of the English consuls in Tae I ar pag of ae ely, death of the gentleman to whom I disposed of my property there-” ‘“The tea plantation?” asked Dick Harvey, “Yes. The gentleman has made moe his heir,” replied Mr. Mole. “Good gracious!” “Wish you joy.” *‘Long life to Mr. Mole.” Mr. Mole was silent. His brow w cloudy, “Tt is npanied by a certain condition.” *“What?” “That I should go and live on the property.” “"Why not?” . an: “J should have to go and leave you,” said Mr, Mole,

» Mr. Mole started. “What can that be?” he asked. “Tl see,” replied young Jack, with alacrity, He opened the window and looked out, for he strongly suspected there was some fun on, Yes, there was Harvey busily engaged with Monday, who caught a little of the water—very little, by the way —and they were laughing in anticipation over some scheme which Harvey was proposing. ‘What’s the matter?” called out young Jack. “Hush, Jack, hush!” said Mr. Mole. “What is the use of ing any notice?” “It?s all very fine, sir,” said young Jack, turning round to Mr. Mole, and looking very frightened, ‘but you have thrown tho water over a gentleman. He looks very fierce; he has two reyolvers and a bowie knife stuek in his belt, and is coming this way.” “Good gracious me!” ejaculated Mr, Mole, “is it pos- sible?” “It is possible, Come and see for yourself,” said young Jack. “No, no,” said Mr. Mole, very much alarmed. “Come away, Jack.” Just then the same irate vakee which had been heard before exclaimed: “Was that you, myfbleating babe?” “No, sir, it was Mr. Mole. “Hold your tongue, Jack,” said the tutor, in alarm, “Do you want to make a disturbance?” “No, sir; but he thought it was me.” “Yew, was it?” re the voice below. “No, Mr. Mole, and he is up here, sir, with the water bottle in his hand.” “Molel Darn Mole! Tl ‘Mole’ him!” “How dare you, Jack?” exclaimed Mr. Mole, in a whis- per of alarm. b “Say, my youthful strainger,” called ont the indignant unseen below, ‘you can pass the work that Solomon Brick is coming up to settle matters right away, and that if I don’t sliee his darned liver in half a whittle, he may jest call me the milkiest coon in the Union.” “Dear me, dear me!” exclaimed Mr. Mole, “I fearthere has been some great mistake,” “Rather!” : “These Americans are yery violent, too, I have heard.” “Very.” “Dear, dear! how very unfortunate.” “More than unfortunate,” said young Jack, ‘‘He’s com- ing up. Now is the time to show your native-born cour- age, sir,” “But J don’t want to show my native-born courage, Jack, at this moment.” “Well, sir, he is coraing up.” “Neyer!” cried Mr. Mole, now thorougly alarmed. At the very instant came a loud knock at the door. “Come in,” cried young Jack. “No, no,” cried Mr. Mole, stumping hurriedly across the room, and locking the door. **Who’s there?” “Me, siree.”” ° “Who's that?” “Solomon Brick.” Mr. Mole’s countenance fell, “T’ve come to see Mole, the skunk that dared to throw water over me,” said the irate Brick, with the strongest nasal twang that Mr. Mole had ever heard. “I’ve come jest to wind “up his clock right away—that’s so. Open the door.” “T can’t,” answered Mr. Mole, in great confusion. “We're out.” “What?” “We're invisible,” stammered Mr. Mole; ‘‘we’re dress- ing—in fact, we are in bed. and—we're taking a bath.” *That’s high pressure some,” returned Mr. Solomon Brick throug! e keyhole, ‘You Britishers pile it on considerable.” “We do—we do,” answered Mr, Mole, eagerly. “Right, siree, bob; you contrive to do a few things at reves, sir.” “Well, Mole, I'll wait for you. I'll give you five min- utes, and I'll kill time sharpening up my prodder for your ribs.” . “Oh!” cried poor Mole, “his prodder for my ribs.” ‘ae go through you better,” continued the fire-eater outside. “ “Blood-thirsty monster!” groaned poor Mr. Mole. “Mr, Mole says you are a blood-thirsty monster, sir,” cried Jack through the keyhole. ‘aoe I am that, and I’ll load my six-shooter ready for “Ruffian!” chattered Mole, from between his teeth. “Now, old boss, I give you two minutes more, and then Yl] pop the muzzle of my barker tothe keyhole, and bust the lock off; and then I'll come in with my bowie out, and carve away merrily at cap old carcase.” Mr. Mole staggered a little, and caught at the chimney for support. i He felt that he was lost. : “Carve away at my old carcase!” exclaimed Mole. “Oh, horror!” This person, calling himself Mr, Solomon Brick, was evidently the typical Yankee rowdy that he had read of in English books, “Yes, sir,” said young Jack, “I think he means it. Can I give any message to Mrs. Mole for you, sir, before you are carved up?” “No, Jack, my dear boy; I would like to deliver the message myself to my dear wife, Cannot I escape, Jack, for the fact is, I don’t feel well?” “There is no way to escape, sir; you had better meet your fate like a mau.” _ “T should prefer it some other day, Jack,” cried Mole, tremblingly; “At the preserit moment I am noe See carved up; the operation must be most un- ‘Mole was conscious of having mortally offended and ‘insulted an out-and-out Yankee rowdy, and he felt that his life was not worth an hour's purchase, ae Wha Mba e et Ae aie | Mole; d’ye hear?” 23 Had Isaac Mole been an artist, his fancy sketch would have shown a long, thin man, with a square lower jaw, yee atuft on the chin, and a broad-brimmed coni at. ; Had he sketched Dick Harvey, it would have borne life-like resemblance to Solomon Brick, And this is not’ to be wondered at, seeing that Dick Harvey and Solomon Brick were one and the same, “Now, siree,” said the fire-eater, ‘my patience is at an end, andI guess I’m gwitre to blaze away.” Mole groaned. “Tl just count out three,” pursued the irascible Solos mon. ‘Now, oncet, twicet, and—” “Stop, stop!” cried Mr. Mole; “don’t be rash, sir, I beg. Ili have the door opened,” = “Oh, you will?” “Yes,” “Then no more palayer, or I'll see tew it myself, any- ow.” “Restrain your ferocity, my dear sir,” said poor Mole, “Don’t ‘My dear sir? me, darn you—on—” “T cannot let you in just yet.” “Why, you—you ring-tailed roarer!” “Oh! my?” “You—you all-fired snorter!” “How dreadful to be called such awful names.” “Open the door.” __ “T can’t sir, I assure you. Mrs, Mole is seg te “What's that to do with me? Put Mother Mole into bed Rui we carve away at each oe : “What a sanguinary villain,” gaspe: ole, “And if your old woman can’t stand fire, let her plug up her ears with cotton wool while we blaze away. She can cover over her head, if she don’t like to see your ruby spilt; but, damme! I'll make you dance.” It was piteous indeed to behold poor Mr. Mole, He was as pale as death; the color had fled from his lips, which were growing blue. Oe ember, sir, I am a married man,” cried Mole, “Sarve you right, for making a darned fuol of your, self,” shouted the fire-ester. Young Jack was laughing inwardly. ' “J'll bust it open!” exclaimed the wrathful Brick out- side. A mighty thump, that threatened to shiver the panels, wound up this fierce speech, Mr. Mole had grown desperate by this time. So he stepped up to the door, and stilled the chatter- ing of his teeth by a tremendous effort. “If you will only curb your violence,” he said, in his most dignified manner, ‘and make known your desires, I will endeavor to meet them,” “Tl ‘desires’ you,” retorted Brick, through the key- hole. “vhat do you want?” “To slice your darned liver.” Mole shivered. 3 “If you have been offended, sir—” he began. “Offended? Outraged, you mealy-faced cuss!” “T am ready to make an ample apology.” «Won't have it.” . “What more can a man do?” asked poor Mole, in de- “Come ont and draw iron,” yelled Solomon Brick; “come out and get catawampously chawed up.” “Qhawed up; dear, dear, whatever isthat? Is it worse than being carved up?” “Bust, spifflicated, and IT’ll be your buster, your spifflicator; come out.” “Dear, dear me, how violent, What a fury.” “Tf you’ve got the pluck of a maiding gal, come out and got goss.” “Whatever is a maiding gal?” exclaimed Mr. Mole, fairly puzzled, “We wants you to fight him, sir, Had you not better — have it over at once?” “Ugh! A duel?” “Of course.” “Put him off, then.” “Well, sir?” “Mr, Mole says,” replied young Jack at the door, “that he’ll be very glad to meet you— ; “No, nol”? “Tf you'll name your time and weapons.” “No, no, no!” cried Mr. Mole, in an agonized whisper, “Time now,” retorted the fierce Solomon Brick through the keyhole; ‘nothing like the present. Weapons, any- thing he likes, from toothpicks to blunderbusses, popguns to forty-eight pounders, and he may consider nie there; at’s 80.” ; “P]] never fight, Jack,” groaned Isaac Mole, now thoroughly lost to a proper sense of his’ dignity before bis pupil. “You must, sir.” anv “Well is he ready? Shall I send some one to order his coffin? I don’t mind paying for it.” : “Well, sir, Mr. Mole says that he is not ready for his coffin, and he couldn’t fight now as he’s too busy,” an- swered nn Jack, ‘and he’s got a bad toothache, and he aon’ fee! well: but he'll be glad to accommodate ‘ou—”? “Say next Tuesday week,” ested Mr. Mole, *'To.morrow,” said young Jack, “To-morrow, then,” answered Mx. Briek. ‘What time?” Z “Six.” i i “In the morning?” F i “Yes,” ; (ct é “Don't be so rash,” said Mr. Mole, in « whisper; ‘sey evening.” ; “Byening.”: ted young Jack aloud. _ 4&Very good; I'll be here and conduct you toa place where you can chop away like fun foran hour or two, and say! j f tA “Yes, sir. 2 «1 hev a barrer with me to wheel off what is left of i ‘Ana then they heard the sounds of Mr, § Brick’s retreating f iP elle Tsaagb th of relief at this, Tsang, hole drew o long breath a», EY Bled cs ay + =)

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24 “Thank goodness that that man-monster has left,” gaid he, ‘By six to-morrow evening I hope to be a long “way on the road to Cuba.” Mr. Mole hurried the preparations for their departure in a feverish manner, aud by noon next day the wholé of the Harkaway party, Jefferson, Magog Brand, Harry Girdwood, and the two English detectives, were on their way to Mr. Mole’s tea plantation in the Celestial Empire, via that hotbed of revolutien—the Island of Cuba, os CHAPTER XXX. WEMESH ON BOARD—JACK AT HIS OLD TRIOKS—MOLE- HUNTING. « Her bowsprit points to Cuba, o ‘The coast ites far behind,’ ” / amy Mr. Mole, who was quite elated at the idea of being once more afloat, and having escaped the fire-eating Brick, ‘This reminds me, Jack, of my strange adyen- tures with a slaver, that I fell in with once when I was on my travels,” be Dear me, sir!” exclaimed his pupil, “a slaver?” “Yes, Jack.” “Did you ever trade in slaves?” “‘Y’m afraid I did.” ; «You were a desperate character then, sit!” “J think I was, Jack,” answered Mr. Mole; ‘in fact, my dear boy, 1 am afraid that I was a deuce of a fire- eater wheu young.” ne “ How strange. You have changed now, sir. “It is strange.” 3 as “Yes, sir,” said young Jack, reflectively. ‘Itis by the same rule, I suppose, that the prettiest babies grow up the uggliest men und women, at times,” “And vice versa,” added his tutor, with a modest cough. “I have heard my parents remark that I was far from comely in my infancy.” : “Whioh accounts for your splendid appearance now, ” “Precisely. I was too fiery in my youth, Jack, far too fiery; and I was given to resent every offexce in a way that a man ought really not to. I was a dare-devil, you see, a high-spirited dashing young blade, Jack; in fuct, a species of—of—” “Solomon Brick,” suggested his pupil. “Not quite so misguided, I might almost say 80 mad; but I was almost as desperate if Thad any real offense to resent,” “He was very alarming, sir.” cn, was very absurd, Jack, if you mean that,” he re- lied, if “He frightened you dreadfully, sir.” "Frightened me?” echoed Mr, Mole, nonsense, Jack,” “Do you mean that you were not frightened, sir?’ “Of course not, Jack. The fact is, as I was about leaving America, I did not wish to have the poor fellow’s blood on my hands.” “Then you were not frightened?” asked Jack, “No, Jack; and I am glad I did not chastise that mis- guided man for his rudeness, though it quite upset me.” “T thought once you had got the captain aboard, sir.” “The captain aboard!” iterated . Mole. ‘What captain?” “Captain Funk,” answered young Jack demurely. And without waiting to watch the effect of his speech upon his tutor, young Jack turned upon his heel, and strode aftin search of Dick Harvey. Dick was engaged in a chat with Dick Harkaway, senior. “I say, Mr. Harvey,” said young Jack, “‘we shall have to bring Mr. Solomon krick to the fore again.” Harvey grinned. 5 Hae for, aan tk wild 5 ‘Oh, he’s going it wildly. “Mr. Mole?” **Yes.” * “Bragging?” “‘Worse than 6ver.” “‘Very well, then, we’ll physic him,” said Dick Harvey. So they let Harkaway into the secret, and they got up a notable scheme between them; for young Jack’s father had never got over his old predilection fora practical joke of any kind, and a. spree with Isaac Mole—so long as it was not carried too far—was of all things in the world just to his taste. This just helped them to carry out their joke. _ Harkaway loved fun now as much as ever, and into pepo scheme iS entered ie and soul ‘Don’t talk *% “Mr. Mole,” said Jack Harkaway, senior, a little later a “$e there any foundation for what the captain of this ip has been telling me?” _ “If T only knew, my dear Harkaway,” said Mr, Mole, with a very supercilious smile, ‘‘what Captain Disher had been telling you, I might be able to hazard a reply.” “You shall know at once, sir,” replied Harkaway.” It relates to a gentleman you offended—a Mr. Solomon Brick.” Mr. Mole started. . Has Captain Disher been speaking to you of that in- solent person?” “Then there is some truth in it?” “T don’t know what yon may understand by that, Harkaway, There was a person calling himself Solomon Brick—odious name—who presumed to be very insolent to me, and whom I shonld certainly have punished, had our hurried departure—” | “That’s it, then. Good Heaven, my dear old friend.” ‘Don’t excite yourself. Harkaway.”” we “T do not—I do not, Mr. Mole; only I can’t say how , glad Tam that this man did not goad you on to rash- . “Ahem!” ~ E , a “That our ee se from the stain a plood.” _ _ “True,” returned the tutor, pompously, “he was ver | ‘Provoking, and, although I'am not given Wo'tuke offense 20 ame r Tats) = 1) Dh ale NES HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. too readily, Imust say that I was sorely tempted to give him a lesson,” “You were?” “Yes.” “You don’t mean it,” said Harkaway, apparently quite staggered by the tutor’s display of courage. “Indeed, I do,” “And would you really like to meet him?” “Such,” replied Mr. Mole, complacently—“‘such is my dearest wish, In point of fact, once let me finish the business which I have now on hand, and I shall, without loss of time, make a point of seeking ont Mr. Solomon Brick, and either make him eat his words and humbly apologize, or—” “Or what?” “Or he shall account to me for his violent conduct with sword and pistol.” And Mr. Mole, looking as fierce as a maggot, strode up and down a la militaire. To look upon Isaac Mole just then, you would have thought him: the most desperate duellist that the fighting world could produce. Harkaway appeared to be shocked. _“Oh, Mr. Mole, Mr. Mole!” he said, with a long-drawn sigh. “What, Jack?” ; “T am so sorry to see you betray such ferocity.” “One cannot help one’s nature, Harkaway. You know I was always brave.” “True, but still I had hopes of passing a time of tran- quil and calm enjoyment on our voyage out.” hs *‘And so we shall.” ‘Not if you betray such bloodthirsty instincts.” Mr. Mole was in positive ecstasy at this, Not only had he got out of a very difficult position with considerable skill, but he had very easily acquired a repu- tation for fierceness with the most sceptical of his friends, “Do not fear for me, my dear Harkaway,” he said. As fierce and warlike as I may bein presence of the ene- my, I am a very lamb in the time of peace.” Huarkaway shook his head doubtfully. “There will be bloodshed yet on board, I fear.” “What do you mean?” asked Mr. Mole, a8 though he had not heard aright. ; ‘Tf you insist on molesting this man,” “Don’t be weak and silly, Harkaway! Once for all, you will find me calm and peaceably-disposed enough here. Only once free from this job, I will get you to bear a message for me to this insolent rowdy.” “JQ? “Yes, you.” “T should feel flattered at being chosen for your séc- ond, sir,” said Harkaway, “but the dread of anything happening to you—” Mr. Mole winced. It gave him a turn tothink what might have happened to him had he not managed to put off that bloodthirsty Yankee, Solomon Brick. At the same time he mentally vowed never to set foot in New York city again until he had heard of Mr. Solo- mon Brick’s demise. But a startler was in reserve for poor Isaac Mole. “Mr, Mole,” said Harkaway, in a funereal voice, “T can’t refuse you.” “Of course not.” “No. My respect for you, my dear old friend, forbids that; but ol! I cunnot describe to you my anguish when I reflect in how short a tim® it may be my wretched lot to see you stretched at my feet.” “Mehatl” se ed in your own gore.” “Harkaway, don’t talk such nonsense, Your words are more forcible than pleasant.” “Ah, you make light of it, sir,” said Harkaway, ‘‘You know not fear, but I—I—when I think that another hour ga << ide ey r. Mole pricked up his ears, Another hour! ‘: ' Surely there was some mistake, “Are you aware, Harkaway, that it will be months be- fore this voyage will be settled, and all the work in hand?” . ‘Yes; but I suppose you mean me to carry your mes- sage at once,” od once? How? Whatever do you mean, Harka- way “Is it possible, Mr. Mole, that you can be unaware of presence on board?” “Whose?” “‘Why, whose but Solomon Brick’s, that dreadful man who is now thirsting for your blood!” Had Mr, Mole suddenly sat down upon a needle, he could not have started more spasmodically. The color forsook his cheek, He held himself steady by the nearest projection, and stared wildly at Harkaway. “Do you mean that he, Solomon Brick, is here, Hark- away?” “Yes? “On board?” Yes, “Have you seen him?” “No, but the captain is full of it. Mr, Brick has paid his fare to Cuba solely with the idea of following you.” “Gracious!” ‘He has sworn to have your blood; in fact your life.” “The villain!” . “And no doubt he'll eeep hi word, for Captain Disher tells me his skill with the bowie-knife is something mar- vellous, and that he is never satisfied until he cuts his enemy into mincemeat; while, as for shooting, he can do things that look more, like conjuring tricks than pistol practice,” _ Mr. Mole shivered. f He hadn’t a word to say for himself now. Tt was so sudden—so awful. _ Sucha gigs from the calm, delightful feeling of satisfaction which he had experienced in ag escaped his danger, that he was utterly dumbfoun: tf eee =. POSTEO “Well, Mr. Mole,” said Harkaway, “‘since J see you se resolved, I may as well go and carry your message,” He moved a step, But Mr. Mole detained him, “Stop a moment—” . “What is it?” cried Jack. “Why,” said Mr. Mole, grasping Jack’s hand, ‘‘my dear Harkaway, I am thinking that at my time of life, perhaps it would be advisable to turn my quarrel over to a younger man, for instance, my dear pe ee You may, if you like, take my place, and fight i, dreadful man-eater for me,” A “No,” cried Harkaway. “I will not rob you of the honor of ridding the world of this horrid villain, and ¥ had better lose no time; for if we’re not sharp, the chal- lenge will come from him, and since you are so fiercely regolved, let us take it out of him altogether.” “One moment, Harkaway,” gasped the tutor, “Yes, sir.” “This is so sudden, and so unexpected.” “But not disagreeable to you, I suppose?” } “Of course not—but—” “All right, sir,” said Harkaway. cheerfully, ‘we'll talls it over when I have settled the particulars. Meanwhile, let us be first with our message, or—” “Mr, Mole,” said one of the crew, stepping up at this moment. “Yes,” “Mr. Solomon Brick wants to see you on urgent busi. ness that can’t be put off; he seems to have a lot of pow- der and shot, and a sharp knife or two, sir, he says; and. he’s coming to you right away.” Mr. Mole gave a cry—a species of gasp—and hobblea away at a rate that rather astonished his friends. In his hurry he tumbled head first down the steps, shut himself in his cabin, and did not appear for the next two days, CHAPTER XXXI. THE ISLAND OF CUBA—STARTLING NEWS, Mr. Moxx became a regular amusement for the whole ship. He called for food and drink to be placed outside his door day by day, being much afraid to come on deck. But when they neared the coast of Cuba they had other matters to distract their attention, and the tutor gota rest. A Spanish cruiser overhauled them, and a rigorous examination was made of their papers and cargo. The reason of this barsh proceeding was patent to all. The insurgents of Cuba got supplies of arms and am- munition from all quarters, The authorities had their floating spies about in all di~ rections, aud sometimes they succeeded in bagging a delinquent—catching him in the act. And when they did, it went hard w.th him at last. They issued proclamations threatening all blockade- runners with death in the eyent of their capture red. handed. Captain Disher remonstrated to the Spanish cruiser in language more plain than polite. “We sail under a flag that wont stand much, senor,” he said, pointing significantly to the stars and stripes floating about in the breeze; “so Jet me recommend that to your polite consideration before you go too far.” “I can accept the full responsibility for my actions,” replied the Spanieh commander, with gravity, “You are free to depart now, but1l warn your passengers that any one landing runs very considerable risks. These are serious times, and we can’t well spend precious moments over matters of form and ceremony.” They learnt something more interesting than this. More interesting, that is, tothe Harkaways, The Spanish cruiser Lad the day previously madé an important capture. A vessel carrying arms for the insurgents, together with other goods co ntraband of war, bad been taken, A very important capture indeed it was considered. Amongst the prisoners, they counted Captain Clem- mans, one of the most serious and most successful block ade runners, and his.crew, there was every reason to be~ ae was simply a body of recruits for the revolution- ists. t “And what will be done with the men?” questioned Captain Disher, in Harkaway’s hearing. The Spanish officers smiled significantly at the ques. tion. “What has been done with them, you mean, captain?” “Well, has been done, then?” “Shot.” “Never!?? “Such is the case,” replied the officer, gravely; ‘‘and now judgeif you are fortunate in baying nothing in your cargo which calls forth any suspicions concerning ou,” pee information confirmed what this officer had said. A number of prisoners were taken, and after a hurried mockery of a trial, they were placed against a wall and shot down mercilessly. Harkaway was not a little startled by what he heard, as you may suppose. t “Can you give me a list of names of the parties shot?” “From the ‘Independence?’ ” asked the officer. “Yes.” = “Here is the official list.” ‘ The Spaniard produced a list of names from his pocket, and handed it to Harkaway. He hurriedly scanned them down. “Richard Barkley, John Clemmians, Futz Von Koppen- cis War- haagen, Juan Ostani, Robert Emmerson, Fran: ible,” said Harkaway, meditatively, “that the end of the villains who have caused us 80 men?” inquired ‘ ix ai ' burton,” “Ts it this can rauch trouble and bother?” ee" “Did you know any of the murdered the captain, who stood near Harkaway. ag “Murdered men!” iterated the Spanish cer, nantly. “They were men deserving of death.” 1B x ne

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“I knew several of them,” replied Harkaway. ‘‘It is /@ertain that they merited their fates. But can it really “be true that Toro, Hunston, and Emmérson are amongst / ‘the slain?” A After some little conversation, the Spanish officer suggested that the best way to accertain whether the men exeeuted were really those our hero had known, would be ‘to inquire of the consul, who would be able to furnish him with full descriptious, So Jack Harkaway the elder and his friend Dick Har- vey went ashore in a boat for the purpose of visiting the British consul. They were challenged by the sentries as they landed. . But they were fortunately accompanied by the Spanish revenue Officer, whose presence was 9 guarantee for them. Once on shore, they were soon conducted to the British eonsulate, Harkaway had no difficulty in making himself known. “Tam very pleased,” said the consul, “to make your acquaintance, for I have many things to tell you.” “Indeed, sir,” said Harkaway, in some surprise. ‘Tt concerns your late agent. ; “Don Jose?” “poor Don Jose! Ho was a personal friend of mine, and his death caused me sorrow and trouble in vainly say Hig to unravel the mystery connected with his death,” “Mystery?” “Yes,” “‘What mystery?” ‘His continued praises of your father’s great liberality » excited the cupidity of an adventurer called—or calling himself—Juan Ostani.” “Thon how same Don Jose to name Ostani as his suc- cessor?” “Tt was your father who did that,” said the consul, it Harkaway shook his head rather seriously.- d “Jt is a forgery, then.” “Are you sure?” , “Qertain, for I know positively that my father was always opposed to this Ostani.” . ; “Then,” said the consul, “I can see it allnow. This ' supplies the only link wanting to complete the chain of evidence I have been fitting together. Don Jose, your father’s agent, died in a way that convinced me there had been foul play, and Ostani produced letters appoint- ing him successor, From the first moment that t saw - that man I was prejudiced against him. He ee be- eame woefully unpopular with everyone, and it began to - he whispered about that he was concerned in the political intrigues which led to the civil war.” “Tndeedl” sides,"and that he played false to both,” “The villain!” : “Presently it grew too hot for him here, and_he one fine day disappeared from the scene, bearing off a con- siderable amount of property with which he had been entrusted.” _ “Flow is it that he did not get into trouble with your _ hot-headed islanders?” . “Why, in. some measure his physical weakness pro- fecte him, “How? Was he deformed or very aged?” ‘ f “Neither. He was a well-grown man, but he had only , @mearm.” — 7 | Jack looked up. “One arm?” erat 1” he said, ‘‘My great- “That is a singular coincidence sit eat enemy is a Ceara man. Describe this Ostani.” “Fe was rather tall, sallow-faced, with a lowering brow and forbidding glance—an objectionable man, in fact.” “The very man!” exclaimed Jack Harkaway, jumping Bp. ; _ ‘@he consul looked up in great surprise. Your Juan Ostani, » continued Harkaway, “has been taken prisoner, and, as I haye-been given to understand, shot yesterday.” i was bh ba a A ; . Harkaway ci med: “He was taken here with others on board a vessel car- xing arms to the insurgents. Juan Ostani is an Eng- ‘ton. man, Lam sorry to say, and his real name is Huns- : y CHAPTER XXXII. _ “wHO GOBS THERE?”—AN ADVENTURE AND AN ARREST. ‘THE consul rang, and a servant “Sage _ - “OQan you give me the names of the crew and passen- gars of the ‘Independence’ who were shot?” he asked. _ Two men only were shot.” “But I heard that they were all condemned.” “Tt is sir, but they were mostly respited.” “Give me the names of the two who were shot,” on ih ne was Joachim Hertz, the other was called Sal- Fiat, : b] “Stay while I write a letter to the or of the Sal Bison I wish to-see one of the prisoners af ~~ “The rest of them have been gat at liberty,” +o ‘““Nevyer!’* ry “Pardon, your excellency, it is the tr _ *Gonfound it!” ejaculated the cons e Further ingniries corroborated this statement, 4 r had, with his own extraordinary luck, again peers the most terrible danger he ever ran. : He had actually been taken red-handed by the out- % ‘Paged anthorities, who did not scruple to take the lives pane sep condition: tespded The only condition impose: ne uid leave the island at once. This and his companions in infamy reddily prom- 0. j : e consnl rang again, and gent for a native clerk, to i ae ‘ : th.” “Then a great ‘as large.” “Tt has since transpired that he was in the pay of both coundrel has been set loose again to prey upon society men who were comparatively innocent, and yet he upon him was that he HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. oi he gave some directions in Spanish and dismissed Harkaway and Harvey only overheard the name of Oa- tani, and could understand no more. “IT have given my clerk instructions” explained the consul, “to write out two or three copies of an announce- ment concerning Ostani, or Hunston, as you call him— offering a reward for his capture.” “But he has been set at liberty.” “He was set free by the Spanish authorities over the other business. His presence was unknown to those he had injured during his residence at Havanna and other ports of the island, Ishall place the notices in the way of people who I know have been deeply injured by Os- tani, and believe me, if you will, they are sure to make such @ hubbub that his escape from the island is next to an impossibility.” i “And if he is caught 2?” “Teave the rest to me,” said the consul, nodding sig- nificantly. § They then léft with the intention of calling the next day. They strolled toward the shore for the purpose of going on board again, andon their way dropped into a cafe, Here they called for something, and sat down to re- fresh in a shady part of the place. ; “What do you think of Cuba, Dick?” asked Harka- way. t aca “Push!” 4 “What's the matter?” **We are being watched.” ‘ re Pog hom?” , “That eyil-eyed black-muzzled-looking fellow behind there.” “Do you think so?” “T am sure of it,’ “What can their purpose be in spying us?” “Strangers are looked upon with sg in these troublesome times, and we are liable to arrested for nothing, or next to nothing,” ‘“Phey would never dare.” Dick laughed. “You would soon see whether they dared or not, They would haye no more compunction about tying our arms behind us, putting us against a wall, and shooting us down, than they would of drowning a kitten, These dons are nothing if not bloodthirsty,” Now barely were those words uttered when a man glided from close behind Harkaway. He had not missed a word. , The shrubs had concealed him from view, and he had contrived to play the spy there with a vengeance, Harkaway and Dick rose to stretch their legs a bit, and strolled out of the garden. Ow, barely were their backs turned when the two men who were watching them made signs of signifi- cance to each other,and followed closely upon their heels. * * * * * * “Do you know, Jack,” said Harvey, “what I should ies if en ‘ni =f on’E know,” responded Harkaway, with a yawn “and I am far too tired, dear boy, too oxert my power of divination,” ad should lke to drive round the island in an open carriage.” | i Harkaway burst into a loud fit of laughter at this, “Oh, Dick, Dick,” he said, “I always knew that you were mobs great geographer.” vi ell,” said Dick, humbly, “I can’t really say that I am, “But hang me if I ever thought to hear anyone speak of ‘driving round,’ the island of Cuba, as if it were an- other Jersey, Guernsey, or the Isle of Wight.” ’ “Well, no, Jack; but what is the extent of Cuba?” e‘‘Why, rather mors than the entire length of England and Scotland, taken from the most southern part of Eng- land to the northernmost point of Scotland.” They soon strolled out of the town and enjoyed the country for a time. ; ‘They passed ay whole groves of orange trees, Jaden “It is getting late enough for us to return,” suggested Harkaway, pausing and turning. “True; we have some distance to go,” said Harvey, They turned, and walked brisklyon until they neared the town, when they were suddenly accosted by a fierce- looking sentry, who was on guard at one of the ou! . He challenged them in Spanish, of which they under- stood not a aingle word, and Harkaway ‘replied in Eng- lish, ‘Habla Espanol?” “No,” - “He is challengin, ™ remarked Harvey; ‘friends,” A eae said frarkaway, “and there goes all my spanish, “Which may, or may not be correct,” added Harvey, langhing. “Ameriéanos?” demanded the sentry, Harkaway shook his head, “TInglese.” : f ‘ “Bravo!” said Harvey, laughing, “you are getting quite a don at it.” 3 The sentry evidently did not understand what was said for he took ‘the laughter in bad part, and growled ont something in his own tongue, whereupon they looked \ B ti of it, for my part, "said Har- ‘pted to move by, but the sentry brought his “He looks like mischief,’ said Harkaway. ‘He means it,” “Come on.” Harkaway was carrying a stick, so witha flourish he knocked up the bayonet and pushed on, : But the sentry quickly recovered himself, dropped back two paces, and brought his bayonet again to the | charge, useing some very hard-sounding words, as he did so in his native tongue. “Hokey pokey rickeraboo,” said Harvey, mimicking the soldier's tone and mannér. The sentry grew furious, and he made a lunge at Har- vey, Which Harkaway parried dexterously, “Sword and target against bay: ” said Harvey. “I haven’t altogether forgotten the old practce,* laughed Harkaway. ow, had they contented themselves with parrying this warrior’s thrusts, it might not have gone any fur- ther, but to be laughed at into the bargain was too much for the dignity of one of the most pompous of a people proverbially possessed of more pride than pence, The soldier swore desperately; atleast; so they judged, for of course they csuld not understand a word he ut~ tered, and again recovering his rifle, he suddenly cocked it and covered Harkaway. This was a startler, . What was to de done? \ “Shall we show fight?” demanded Harkaway. “No; discretion is the better part of valor,” answered his companion; “drop it.” “What??? ‘ “The game, and your stick too.” Harkaway let fall his stick, and made the sentry an extravagant sign of submission, It was clear that they were laughing at him. However, he grounded his rifle, and the next miuute a guard of four men, commanded by a sergeant, marched up. - , Afhurried conversation ensued between the sentry and the sergeant, in which the only words that they could distinguish were ‘‘Inglese” and “passports.” ‘Does any one here speak English?” asked Hark- away. . + “TI do, alittle,” said the sergeant, This was a relief. “ ‘““What does our vigilant friend want with us, captain?” asked Harvey, The sergeant smiled. ‘The mistake in his grade was not displeasing, “He wants your passports,” “Then why inthe name of all the furies couldn't he ask for them?” { “Te says he did,” ‘ “Not he.” : “He is a humbug,” said Harkaway. Do pou under- stand the meaning of that, captain??? : “Yes,” / “Tell him, then,” . “J cannot blame my man for being vigilant,” “True,” “But he rather overdid it,” said Harvey, “and he wasn’t polite,” ; . : ‘The sergeant smiled. may, ‘ f “Give me your passports, and if they are correct, you hh peace,” oe rts? i”? “Yes, “We don’t carry any.” “What, no passports?” No.” “That is, to say the least, imprudent in such times as these; I must trouble you to fall in and come with ua,” ‘*Where?” “To the guardhouse,” “What for?” meee re a orders,” e two Englishmen began to look glum, “What shall we do Jack?” said Harvey, in a whisper, ‘fight or go?” = mipiting for preference,” retufned Harkawa; , in the one; “though I doubt if that would be most same prudent course,” ~ “Perhaps not.” : “Go, then?” : “Yes, it can't be long to get through the formalities.” “Tr ee a not.” * “Now then, ” said the sergeant, “fall in—march,” Andlso it fell out that Jack Harkaway and his friend Diek Harvey passed the night in the guardhouse, * i CHAPTER XXXII, YOUNG JACK ASHORE—A CUBAN PRISON, You may im e their sensations on board. _ , Not a wink of sleep did any one of ney guid got that night, and as soon as it was fairly daylight, young Jack sought his mother’s cabin, THER. y “Dad did not come back last night?” he said. ee ‘No, N 3 “Do you think, mamma, that anything could have happened to them?” P ; “Scarcely.” ' A But the ae of ptt ee 0 eee oued nee kira She was pale, and young Jack co f ve plai enough the traces of tears upon her oe “T can soe you are uneasy, mamma,” “No, no, Jack,” k “You can’t tell me,” insisted her son, “but*you are mistaken, _ Tears upon my father’s account are thrown t He knows how to take care of ft if course.” , ay me, and to leaye you just #2 uneasy as Dolore,” sais he added proudly, ‘is @ a [many men in co} strength, or ip Ms he cae ee ox he ee ed Harvey occa. lonally) I would unde: eto Ba ey are fit to meet Oe ac. as ee m vor thin at the; ve Pye He paused. bras » Aiea ears ; y vi . al Of

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ia 26 HARKAWAY AND H{S SON HOMEWARD BOUND. “T don’t know, but I will go in. quest of father and Harvey.” Having heard his father speak of the consul, young Jack thought that he could not do better than go there himse! The consul was : “fortunately an early man, so when ae Jack ‘sent up his name he was shown in at a oe John Harkaway!”’ he said,as young Jack entered, “why I oe pel “Jack Harkaway, sir—not John,” said young Jack; “I am the son of Mr. Harkaway, you know.” “Your face and yoice im that,” “J come to.ask news of my father.” ‘The consul opened his oyer wide at this, ‘News?’ “Yes, sir, ” “What news?” “Ts it possible you don’t know, sir?” “Know what?” “That my father has not been back ou board?” a all night?” 0, “This is yery ae gre “Tt is, very—and it made us very uncomfortable,” “No doubt, But these are ticklish times to live in,’ said the consul, “and nes they haye been arrested on suspicion by the mili’ “For what a “The Gaerne get supplies in a way that baffles them ae a they cannot guano, my father in this?” “They suspect any’ any Me om posing he should be arrested, where would he be taken?” “They would -be taken to one of the prisons. , ever, we will waste no more Large) young gentleman, but just make our round, without waiting until they can come to any further harm,” ‘They started together. On calling at the first prison, the consul contrived to get the information he required respecting Harkaway and Harvey. They were not Jocked up there, but he found out where they were. And when they: were found, it was no alarm to discover that they were treated as Sie oo Dee aelicd £ iasion to visit them, but 6 cons! ‘or permission em, bu this was denied him. Ri Now, the consul “hay d to know that*magistrate very well, so he lost no time in seeing him. id) remember these two people,” oe said to the consul; ‘hey are desperate fellows, I am told. One of them Pope here: used violence to the sentry on duty.” { nm "Yes; but fortunately they will have an opportunity of gtving fn account of themselves to meé within a week.” piel week?” ae “And “then?” asked the consul. “Yes, sir,” added young Jack, eagerly, ‘“‘what then?” . “rf thei innocence is clear to me, they will be set at be: Aids “But supposing—' The poor boy ate in faltering tones, but ‘could not proceed. r To Pre ow egg anything but a favorable result was art Be cine what you would say,” interrupted the alcade “If there should be any doubt, why, then they will have an. opportunity of cléaring themselves before a legal tri- , for I never pass a capital sentence myself.” Young Jack turned alee The remotest possibility of such a coil naeneye filled him with dread. “You do not think, sir, that there is any danger of my father and his friend not clearing themselyes.” y,”” he replied, with a piercing cause for the regular ) signed the order for dine admission to see the brisouers, and wae a the be) They walked on in silence. . The consul feared that the alcade might not dare to set the English prisoners free, In a very short time they reached the prison. It wasa tall, frowning fortress, built upon the rocks fronting the sea, Sita washed the base of the building. ‘The entrance was through a huge iron door, that “awung heme Fe es and struck a chill to young Jack, | ©}. SeMly, rr Harvey!” he said. They must i pod oe lh ched ie iid "a - ‘ ie door swung open e Lat rang out, and there they saw the two prisoners, , ae ey were playing at cards on a rough wooden ben ns polling y with jaughtor at something that Harvey ' Just then sai Beside thes, ‘upon m he table were cigars,and wine. eae CHAPTER XXXIV, PRISON, BREAKING—THREE ‘TO THK RESCUE, &€ I,K!” * '. f ys “Dad! 4 iy , ¥ ‘Father and son embraced, ~ m : Dick and the consul shook hands, an “Well, sir,” said Harkaway, ‘these are pretty di ioe abe gentiomen in”? MRE eres pear r, langhing, ‘‘wpon their hospitality to strangers,” ten don’t Sppear to be very sad over “it” said ‘the ibe + hei rey “allow me to tell you everything is done irregularly now, or not at all.” irre lar,” said Harvey. feet to reach it. himeelf thoughtfully, ina way that was meant for the prisoners to hear. a strong swimmer to tackle that leap,” ed Dick; “‘if there was a boat there or within half a mile sash would precious soon show them a clean pair of ere.” *$t is for you to help yourselves.” How- | him some yoice, while the consul discreetly remained out of direction.” work,” better carry a lantern; keep se covered over until you know we are off.” before we leip.” Jack and the consul took their departure. go ashore in a boa his forelock at him in salute. owner of the big monkey, seen your honor often,” Harvey gave the countersigns “Then you must have been too proud to speak to an “Now for it.” old friend, Ben.” Harkaway left the door. that Ben -Hawser would be the very man to row him up to the prison where his father was confined. want some one to row me,” ‘ get the s) cl or permission.” itepped forward just as a noisy burst of man with me, tat th tears can abs no harm in your going.” “J should think not.” A roll of drums} They got & lantern and matches, and prepared to muf-| A heavy tread of soldiers, fle their oars when they shouldbe a-mile out from the | If was wnusual—it had an alarming sound, and “they sai: | began to look blank. brace of revolvers, ‘T can’t compliment he mar Spanish friends, added Har- | mere tn aah i But have you bronght the ordér ferro “ ! Pi Be a 3s WA any mite, to ow fc : ae ot wrag a é wna gator 7 zs aa i TE im paar’) ¥ » ‘They don’t care much whether it is right or wrong,” ; “T have had no message from you at all.” answered young Jack, anticipating . his questions, “Are you sure?” “Yes.” : “Might is right, nowadays, here, 50 We must getmy “That is strange. I sent you word as soon as we came | poor dad and uncle out of prison before the night i here last night.” over.” “We willl” ‘We will!” said Ben Hawser, ‘‘or I’m the biggest land- lubber that ever turned a quid.” -] It was dark by now. They mufiied their oars in silence, for they were with- in three quarters of a mile of shore, and the greatest precaution was necessary. “Now for the lantern,” “My dear Mr. Harkaway,’”’ said the consul, gravely, “Well, I know that our coming here was precious ind our getting out ought perhaps to be in keep- "he consul seized upon this chance shot at once. “That’s it, as in ras you please, only get out as It was lighted and held aloft by Harry Girdwood. “ quickly as possible.”’ § And in * Ewa darkness of night they shippedtherr — Harvey and Jack looked through the barred window. oars and lay watching in breathless anxiety for the The sea flowed beneath, but there was a drop of thirty | signal from the prison window, The fortress looked dark and frowning. Not a glimmer of light could Feds seen a any part of it, Presently there was a roll of dum! 8, “Hark,” cried young Jack;! “what can that mean. Per- haps danger to my father.” i Then all was still. { ‘The consul looked down into the water and talked to “It is a long way down; it would want a bold man and “T have dived from as great a height before now,” said The silence grew oppressive, and poor young Jack be-— Harkaway. gan, in spite of himself, to be filled with uneasiness. : ‘Have you?” “T hope there is nothing amiss,” “Indeed, I haye.” “And you, Mr. Harvey?” “T shouldn’t think much of it,”’ replied the light-heart- “Keep up your pecker and your patience, Master Harkaway, said Ben Hawser; “it'll all be right yet.’’ *“T hope so, ; “Pm sure “A it.” ae They waited et src for about half an HON: op And then their patience was rewarded. A light was seen at the window. “There it goes,” they exclaimed, all three together. “Answer!” cried young Jack, ge ihe “How?” ; rw “With the light, quick.” y So saying he snatched it from Harry emen abi « waved the lantern backward and forward three times The lantern was waved at the window again thrice. | “Hurrah!” said Ben, shouting in a whisper—rather a — difficult thing to do, by the way—‘‘they. Bee us. Look, gy ee are AN tad the countersign,” “And would you recommend—” began Harkaway. “I recommend nothing,” answered the consul, warily; Harkaway called young Jack to his side, and then gave urried directions in a low but epee “At dusk, Jack,” said Harkaway, “‘you undersand?” “Yes,” ‘Don't leave it till dark, for fear of. mistaking the ‘*Never fear me.” ‘Have only one man with you, for this is. desperate a light, or still ae ye an hour, please God, we'll have them safe aboard, f said young Jack. i But their work was not yet over. , Danger and death were near Harkaway and Dick Har- | vey, ar ‘‘Have materials on you for ‘How shall I know?” a signal,” at is it to be?’” “ret us wave our light three times at\the window Just CHAPTER XXXV. | a A LEAP FOR LIFE AND A FLYING SHOT, ‘Harkaway and his friend Dick Haryey hed been awaiting nightfall in considerable anxii + The former’s ers fear was that young. “y ‘ack would ba over eager to get off, and not curb his impatience until it would be safe Sto venture afloat near the prison. ; Harvey watched atthe window while Harkaway listened 5. at the door, >y “Will he never come?” said Harkaway, impatiently. wae ‘There is something wrong, I fear.” \ “T fear it is 80,” “T understand,” said young Jack, eagerly. Sao you, my boy!) Keep a ‘firm heart, and you will-bring us off safely.” “Now, Master Harkaway!” said the consul, “*Pime to go, sir?” “Yeu, if you ‘have nothing more to say to your father.” “T am ready, sir.” And then, with @ significant nod and glance, young ‘Towards eT e you na begged permission to “You can, Master J: 3” said the chptain, ‘with pleasure, if you are going to fetch Mr, Har away.” “Tt must be.” RO = going for that purpose, captain,” But even as they spoke, there was a faint IE Wied * The emipper ¢ gave him permission also to take one of | of light seen upon the water. A! the crew with him, “See there!” cried Harkaway. uf : ‘Young Jack went to select a likely man, and going aft,| “Where?” ty he met Harry Girdwood, talking with a sailor whose face “Took, look out at sea—that speck dancing there upon * "was certainly familiar to him, - the The sailor evidently knew young Jack, for he pulled Dy Mart I see!” said Harvey; Git grows larger—they sik nal us, Huzzah!” . t “Rush! be cautious,” Fat eae . “Here,” cried Harvey, “you take the lantern, and wave Fr it three times as we agreed,” This was done; then they waited and watched in the 7 most intense anxiety for a few minutes, ; + ' “Look, they answer it!” Beir! |s, The light was waved from thd boat out at sea, 4: eee ‘‘How’s Nero by this time, your honor?” oung Jack,recollected him at once then. * it was Ben Hawser, y You will remember that po ‘Hawser was tho original ero. “What, Ben?” said Jack, “What cheer, my hearty?” “Your honor didn’t obsarve poor spins aboard. But I fy This appeared to tickle the old tar immensely. His heart was beating ghiawty) as the moment drew And as they were talking, it occurred to young Jack “Now for: it,” said Harvey. “Wait one moment! | Lower yourself a little way at least and then drop. 7 “No, no! better jump the whole way” i. “Tt is a fearful leap, Dick.” “Right, old boy, vont He it is for life. I must jump out into deep water; if I, drop straight down, I may fell im | the rocks.” _ “True, Jack; now, thea, a bate leap and off.” “Hark bd ‘ “What was that?” “T am going ashore, Ben,” said young ane, “and I “Dm the man,” “Tt is a matter of some dan; “Blow eager,” said Ben r,” said young Jack 3 i awser, heartily. “I’ll jest “No need for that; I have got it already.” “That's h “Pm with ih got ton “too,” ay Harry Girdwood. “Very had orders to have only one “Thev have discovered something,” said Harvey. “J fear 80,” cried Jack; “it we are Mvasttirn ‘death is certain, ip. Then they. t's, couple of muskets, a cutlass, and a Jack thought it best to be prepared for all emergen- i cies, for there must be no mistake in this work, “What shall we do?” { ; 5 My ciie ‘They were soon under way, and pulling at a good rate |’ Harkaway a .& moment to i ecutsier” Neale | toward the prison in which Harkaway and Harvey were | ‘Better make a dash for % and chance a hay for He confined. old boy,” + “Now,” cried young Jack, “I'll tell you both where we| “Good!” ne hd turned to the seindow: and prepared for th jum Ho; held, bot\his band behind him, and “Harkey seized it Senne silent pressure: fror ihe rue old friends told all they 1] arr They were brave men, but deadly,-and it was just look upon éach other mot that grasp was full of me arg going. Do you see that, building over there?” “My father and Mr, Harvey are ‘n prtonibers. : “Prison!” cried Ben Hawser. ‘‘Avast, rye: a Peet ar Ben, and they are be aaee ap er? “What. nave ng ae “done?” ” asked Harry ‘Girawood. ing.” ‘ w how came rok Iubberly a dong”

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HARKAWAY AND UIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. 27 ‘ “Now for it!” _ Dick Harvey planted his feet firmly upon the ledge, arid then he made a desperate leap into the dark waters. At the self-samé,mioment a rifle was fired under the window. : Harkaway’s heart beat quick with dread for his old friend. z * Harkaway clambered up eagerly. He looked down, down into the black, sullen water. But he heard no splash. “Bang!” Again a loud report from a rifle. He saw no signs of Dick. He had not yet risen to the surface, He waited and watched until his eyes ached with the intensity of gaze. No signs of Dick. It seemed an age. . . “Oh, Dick! oh, Dick!” cried Harkaway, lifting his voice in ‘agony, ‘‘what shall I doif you are gone, killed by these bloodhounds, brave heart? My best and noblest friend, where shall I replace your loss?” ‘ Craning over, his eyes untilit seemed as though they would burst from their sockets, And presently the reward for his patience came. He saw a figure dashing through the water. By degrees he could detect the outline’of a human form battling boldly with the waves, Eh jae Dick! bravo, old man!” cried Harkaway ex- Ve . Bat then, as the swimmer progressed rapidly, his anx- lety grew less, © He felt sure that Dick was safe. And turning from the window for a moment, he ran to the door of the cell to listen, for he fancied that he heard the tramp of the jailer in the stone-paved passage. ‘*¥es; he’s coming!” This was unlucky, What was to be done? Before he could reflect upon this, the door was unbars red and thrown open, The jailer entered. : “The sentry says it isfrom here,” he began as he came vat ae he must be as mad as an Englishman to say so . —bullol” Harkaway had squatted down again upon a bench in. the middle of the cell, and was endeavoring to look as innocent and unconcerned as possible, “Hullo!” Harkaway nodded with a cheerful air, “Where's the other?” ; Which other?” “Your friend and fellow-prisoner,” was the reply. “I have neither, don’t you see I’m alone?” F _. The man now began to perceive that he was being fooled, so he moved angrily toward the door, Harkaway slipped sharply after him, and blocked up thedoorway, _ “Stand aside,” said the jailer, who somehow did not like the look of the prisoner. ; Harkaway made no reply, but dropping upon the man with sudden fierceness, he toppled him over and bore to the ground. ‘ “Tf you say half a word,” hiesed the prisoner in the jailer’s ear. “I’l1 put’an end to you.” The man was silent. } His face showed what he felt, and this was anything ee | y there,” said Harkaway, getting up. ‘Keep quiet, and you'll not be hurt. Breathe but a word, and—” He said no more, but his looks told their own tale. Harkaway jumped up to the window and looked out. It had all taken place in a moment, and the boat was pil wary in the same spot. ‘The light was still shining at the boat’s head, but there were no signs of the swimmer, “He is safe on board by now,” said Harkaway. | Barely were the words uttered, when he had to turn gound to see what was taking place in the cell, i The jailer being relieved from the prisoner’s unpleas- ¢nt attentions, had crawled on his stomach to the door and ae the alarm, Box { Armed men ran in, and in‘less time than it takes 4o write the words, Jack Harkaway was covered than five rifles. ‘$ by no less “Yield!” cried the jailer, E “Pickles!” er aa Harkaway, +} And then,-before they could have an idea of his inten- tions, he waved his hand and leaped out of the ee Stupefied for a moment, the men sprang forward to. the window, and one of them stared down into the pitehy Aarkness, » : .‘There he goes,” cried the soldier. Seyeral others sprang up. They crowded to the window. _ Maskeis were pointed—hurried sights were taken at something moving, which they took to be the prisoner, end a sharp succession of reports followed, __And then they watched anxiously until the smoke cleared away, to seo if their aim had been as deadly as __ they had hoped. * * * * * * CHAPTER XXXVI. } ‘THR VASTY DEEP !—A MEETING IN MID-OCEAN. | Jack Hanwaway, the elder went down, down, down, _wntil his breath was almost cut by the terrible flight through the air. " At length—ah, it.seerned a terrible time—he struck the Hepes He went below, and his downward flight was an nas ine we bY ei excitement, shouted out with all his might and main, and then turned over on his back and floated with long and vigorous strokes towards it. But while he was floating thus, his eyes were fixed upon the window of the prison from which he had just leapt, and suddenly he saw there that he was the object of most unpleasant attentions upon the part of the au- thorities, There was a flash—a report—and a rifie bullet struck the water close by Jack Harkaway’s head. ‘‘That’s enough for me,” said Harkaway. And down he went under water. Now, as he breasted the surface again, he ran foul of some dark object that thrilled him with fear, So quick is thought that he went through a whole drama of horrors in his fancy—all, as it were, in a flash. He thought it was a shark. The monster of the deep would have had him in his ghastly maw in a moment, and then good-bye to all, Good-bye to the world; to his hopes and fears; to his love, and fancies generally—he would never be able to look again upon his Emily or his boy. Good-bye to— Hullo! | Why, it was not a shark, it was about as different from a shark in point of fact as anything could well be. {t was a man, and, like Harkaway, a fugitive. He, too, was swimming towards that light on the sea. Yes, swi ng for dear life, ‘Help! oh, help me!” gasped the swimmer. “Pve scarce strength to save myself,” replied Harka- way, faintly. sink!” faltered the other. “I sink! Idie! Ob, “oy i ‘kaway was sorely distressed. Yet he was not the man to leaye a fellow-creature in peril, and so, at the risk of his own life, he turned to end a hand to the sinking man. 4 Just then there was another flash at .¢ fortress win- ow. ‘Then a report. And a ball whizzed past Harkaway, and struck the unfortunate man beside him in the water. “Oh, merey!” cried the unfortunate wretch. He threw up his arms in his agony, and sank, Down, down he dropped, like a lead end of a line, and down went Harkaway after him. What ensued was the work of a minute. *To help an unfortunate fellow-creature was with Jack Harkaway a sort of instinct. Had he been able to reason it, he would surely néver have ventured upon such rashness; for he was already | 80 much exhausted himself that his preservation hung, as if were, upon a mere thread. As it was, he seized the wounded and drowning man by the hair, and made a vigorous stroke upwards. - A little more, and it would have been too late. His strength, his senses were fast leaving him. “Hold up!” gasped Harkaway. “Now strike out— both arms, both—I say!” A yoice that was familiar then rang in the ears im wel- thers words of encouragement. “That's right!” “One more !”” “Bravo!” “Boldly done, my hearty; never saw.a betterer as sure as my cognomen’s Hawser!” And as the words were uttered, a pair of strong hands grasped the exhausted Harkaway by the hair, and he was unceremoniously lifted out of the water and dragged into the be * man that Harkaway had sayed was likewise cared ‘or. y And then the oars were unshipped, and while two of the party bestowed every care upon the half-drowned men, the others rowed desperately out of musket range of the fortress, _ 2 Andas they rowed away in silence, the moon burst eo i the inky clouds and shed a silvery ray across the at, It fell across the face of the unfortunate stranger, upon whom the boat’s crew—including Harkaway, who had re- covered from his exhaustion in some degree—were exerting their best cares to bring him round, The aim of the soldier who had fired from the fortress window had been too true. ‘The ball had struck the Water first, and so was partly spent before touching the unfortunate man, otherwise rarer beg eat a saved him. ‘ twas, flicted an ugly wound upon his head, from which the blood gushed, satura’ his f i oornese it ss nt uve deeb, : re rere ey washe off as tenderly as possible, and stannched the wound with a soaked handerchief..” as the silver moonlight fell upon that pallid ghastly face, young Jack ines, 4 ie eae ts ane recogulned the features, er, father, look!’, it etDonttgou semester nate po ut remembr now, father ok!” ; The elder Harkaway Ypres again ge cued man, and acry of amazement, wonder, disappointment burst from him, z “Merciful Heaven! It’s Hunston!” “Whi J ' CHAPTER XXXVI, HUNsToN! . Tue notices which the British con sed written out by his clerk and posted Gone keene The notices had been posted in the rte 1 Senor Ostani, otherwise Hunston, had. been wet eee Tn less than an hour there were many persons on the hunt after Ostani. ‘ Information was zealously sought after concernin, the movements of the released prisoners, and some. of danger for the ‘particulars were gleaned, They had not left the pom ‘ } J ee 4) No sooner was this known than a regular plan was ors ganized for their pursuit. ¥ The coast was guarded by a number of those whone the English scoundrel), had victimized. ? Every boat was keenly scrutinized, ; Now, while the excitement which this created was at its height, two men, greatly interested in the matter. stood reading the proclamation, which was posted up at . the consulate door. One of these was a one-armed man. Next him stood a tall fellow, of lierculean build, whose fine proportions were shown off to great advantage by « “ riding cloak. It made his figure look colossal), a “Diavolo!” exclaimed the latter, under his breath. “This is a serious job, Hunst—” “No names!” interrupted his companion, affrightedly. “We are observed.” “Where?” “Behind there,” Surely enough, too, there was a man watching them with great interest. er exchanged a few hurried whispers and sauntered off, As soon as they werefree from the attentions of the person who had excited their suspicions, Hunston spoke to his companion—who was none other than the ex- brigand Toro. It will be remembered that he had been strangely car- ried off after his desperate fight with Jefferson, “Lend me your cloak; it will hide my deformity. Ths loss of an arm fixes my identity to the casual observer.” The cloak was exchanged. “Now, what is your advice?” asked Hunston, *T think it would be safer to remain in the town until” nightfall, and then have a boat sent ashore for you.” “You're right,” observed Hunston, ‘but great care must be observed.” v “It must.” “The boat had better be sent ashore out of the town,” “When?” “Tet me see,” They thought if over for a while, and then Toro hada suggestion to offer. ; “You know where the fortress is situated?” “Well.” * “They shall pull ashore there, and fetch you.” “Good,” “Tyne,” - And so they parted. cA It was agreed that a rocket should be fired from the ship before the boat left. t “itih Hunston strolled about to kill time before nightfall, andin his rambles he came toa public garden where — music and dancing were going forward. ‘ On entering, he resolyed merely to. call for some © refreshment, and to take it in a remote corner, 80 x 10 avoid all accidents, / But this was ot to be. _ i Hunston was recognized almost immediately. He saw it, and slipping out, made off at full speed. Then, with loud outeries, the whole of the compan fled after him and apve chase, The hunt, however, suc as.it was, was but short lived. No sigus of the fugitive could they discover, Thanks to his knowledge of the locality, he managed very soon to get Out of danger, Out — resent, at least. But it was by no means over, He to reach the coast by a circuitous route, 80 as to bein readiness for the signal from the ship. And then, for two long, weary hours, he prowled about in anxious expectation, waiting and watch tie: and full of weariness. Would they never come? Would they never send up that signal-rocket? It seemed so. ” * e * “There it goes!” bie i AM! From that moment the wretched man was not alone. Two of his Cuban foes glided after him as he moved | along toward the seavhore, for they had seen the rocket which Hunston’s comrades had sent up as the signal agreed upon for the departure of the boat, and this Y excited their attention, They had not proceeded far when they recognized in the mysterious man in the cloak the traitorous Ostani, upon whose head, so to speak, a price’ was set, ‘ : “Caraioba!” munnured one to the other in an under+ — tone; ‘it is Ostani himself!” it . “After him, then, and Jet us make sure of him.” * “Good.” j ’ They soon cau ght up with him, and then, with aban@ — on each shoulder, they brought him up to a standstill. “Stand!” , _ “How now?” ejaculated Hunston, turning round, P “You are our prisoner,” ‘What for?” i ‘That you shall answer to the alcalde.” ; Smee “mnband _ “Pah! ejaculated Hunston, turning round; me, or—” : grid But instead of complying they only ¢lutched him tle — more firmly, whereupon a short but sharp meceale stake. ; place. Hunston, however, contrived to shake them of, ~ And then he darted forward, and made a desperate r of it towards the fortress in which his two redoubtable enemies had been confined. We mean Jack Harkaway and ‘Dick Harvey.. When he reached the castle there was ne — signof the boat, Despair! The pursuers were fast — nearing him, He could hear their footsteps close behind him. Suddenly he sawthe boat, as he thought, flashing — asignal lightathim, and then he made‘a dash at the © water, cast aside his cloak, and leapt boldly in. He heard — shots fired. and he felt sure that he was the target; but _ ‘he was safe so far. Little did he know what had taken _ place in that gloomy fortress. i . Little did he think that he was trusting his fortunes to — the deep at the self-same moment as his old enemy, Jack Harkaway. He heard the firing, and then he chuckled. — “The fools,” he said to himself; they haye as much — idea of shooting 2s the whistling oyster, or a white slew And so he swam on, Now, Hunston was a. strong me swimmer, and, spite of his Joss of an arm, he ade! ~ > yi a

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yr: 38 headway. But the task before him was more than nea in a very led des- CHAPTER XXXVIL IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY. Houxs7on remained unconscious. Loss of blood and ,ong immersion in the water had thoroughly exhausted him, and his senses fled. The recognition had not been mutual, No. Young Jack had addressed himself to his futher upon making the discovery of Hunsto.’s identity, and his words had not been overheard by Hunston him- self. And so it fell out that the Harkaways were des- tined to return good for evil, to save the life of the bit- terest enemy they had upon the earth, one who had sought their destruction again and again, And under what extraordinary circumstances was this to be brought about? Harkaway the elder sat in the Lvat as one stupe- fled by the adventure, He could not realize it yet. * ‘They were soon aboard ship. “‘Jaok,’? Well, Dick, old boy.” Glad to see you by my side again, old man.” “And I too, Dick, believe me,” returned Harkaway, ' with heartfelt sincerity. ‘Then they pressed each other’s hand with warmth. Since they had last grasped each other’a hand in silent emotion, half an hour had barely élapsed. Certainly not more. Yet into that half- hour had been crowded such a series of excitements that he appeared to have gone through a lifetime of won- ders, But how had Toro failed to keep his promise about the boat? His companions had lacked courage at the moment. When the rocket went up as a signal for the fugitive, the boat neared the shore, and the alarm- ing sounds from the prison had roused the crew to a sense of their own danger, and the consequence was that in spite of entreaties, prayers, threats, they would not ep basi their course, and gently rowed back to their ship, When the insensible Hunston was carried on board by Harkaway and his party, there was another» who re- cognized him. Nero. The monkey recognized his old enemy immediately, and would have pounced upon him, But the crew kept him off, much to the monkey’s dis- gust and disappointment. Now, when Hunston had Tegained consciousness, a surprise was in store for him. But very soon his feeling of satisfaction at his es predominated over all else. He was as tendetly cared for asif hehad beena dearfriend instead of a bitter enemy. At first they felt inclined to give Hunston up to the fies authorities. But this notion was soon aband- oned, A ‘Better have left him to perish in the sea,” said Hark- ooway, “than trust him to their mercies.” ; “But justice will be dealt out to him,” said Captain Disher, A “Susticel” said Harkaway. ‘Justice is unknown there,” And 0 that idea wasabandoned, Harkaway did not \ LZ know it,” said Harkaway. ‘Then i and I hate you none the less for that.”’ accompani: “Hunston,” said the latter, “I hope you have repented ef your vicious course of life.” Hunston’s reply was brief and characteristic, “No, you old donkey, I have not.” “Shocking!” exclaimed the tutor. f “Don’t preach then, Mr. Mole,” said Hunston; “I can’t stand it now.” “Bat you disabled me for life, Hunston,” said the tutor, pointing grievously to his wooden leg. _ “That was accidental, quite,” replied Hunston. And moreover, Mr. Mole, I wasn’t engaged in that busi- ness. “T know you were,” said Harry Girdwood. “Silence,” interrupted Hunston, with contempt. Harry Girdwood would have rushed upon him had te i bs? of your arm very much?” way, to suff aia | His Jook was a mixture ef sullenness and sadness, and | HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. they saw what bitterness it had caused him. Harry Gird- wood noted it. ‘‘Well, Hunston,” he said, fixing him with his deep lack eyes, “I shall take your other arm,” Hun rted. } He had never met a boy like young Girdwood, and he felt nervous about him. There was an earnestness in his manner—an utter absence of brag, that made Hunston fear for the future. “Torro has already paid the penalty of his crimes,” said young Jack, “Are you sure?” “Yas.” “Rather—woe saw him lying dead with our own eyes,” said Mr. Mole. “You are mistaken, then,” said Hunston, with a light laugh. ‘Toro is not dead; henever was, in fact, more lively than now. The wounds he received were despe- rate, but not fatal. He has had many a rough tussle, has Toro, and he takes a good deal of killing.” Ther stared again. \ “Qan it be true?” “Of course it is,” ‘What proof have you?” inquired one of them. “T left him on the island of Cuba. Moreover, it was I who rescued him when you left him for dead—at the peril of my own life.” They were convinced. “So much the better,” said young Harry Girdwood. rN have the life of my poor brother’s murderer yet. } OHAPTER XXXIX. WALKING THE PLANK, Trreer or four days later the Harkaway party fell in with a sti adventure, It was early one morning that Nabley, the detective, discovered the spars and ldose rigging of a wreck floating about to leeward. Immedi- ately he made known his discovery to the captain. The captain caused boats to be lowered and 0 vations taken, and the result of it was that they made a strange and uncomfortable discovery. There were certain signs about the wreck that told them that a battle had taken *|place there, and that the ill-fated vessel had been sunk in hard a bag What could it mean? Who were the belligerents? e skipper could only hazard a guess: “YT should think,” said Captain Disher, “that it is a French merchantman which has fallen foul of a pirate. ’ This startled his hearers, as you may suppose. “#4 pirate?” “Yes.” eB rigs what kind of pirates do you suppose them to 7? “J should say a Chinese ora Malay. I feel sure that there were Malays on board.” “Why?” “Because we found a creese—a regular Malay instru- ment—stuck into one of the loose pieces of the wreck; so that not me should I say they were Malays, but I should also say thatthey had some precious hard fighting be- fore the Malay wretches made their victory sure.” They presently fished up a barrel half full of rum that was floating not far from the rest of the wreck, and the words branded on the barrel confirmed their belief thut it was a French ship which had been destroyed, They went on their way, saddened by the reflections which these fragments of wreck had called up. “Ship ahead!” A dozen glasses were immediately set upon the distant vessel, ‘ “What is she?” demanded the skipper. “A Dutchman,” returned one of the bystanders, “No, no; an American,” said a second, “A Yankee, for a wager.” “A Yankee—a Yankee,” echoed several. : ‘ The captain gaye along and steady look through his glass himself. ‘Then he handed it to Jack Harkaway the elder, “What do you say, Mr. Harkaway?” he asked. Jack took the glass, Then he gave a long, steady look before he pronounced his opinion, ; “Tt is a Chinese junk,” " Captain Disher took back his glass and looked long and earnestly through it. “Well, captain?” The skipper nodded at Harkaway. “You are right.” “Ts it a Chinaman?” *Yos.” Every minute now made it less and less a matter of doubt. A sailor up aloft on the look-out came down, the |. hands, bura‘- cords ‘aoe J swiftly through his glowin ing with . f ence, a piece of most significant in “Ts it a junk, Ben?” said Harkaway. Be aye, your honor,” echoed Ben Hawser, for he waa the look-out man from up aloft; ‘a precious rum junk, too.” : \ ‘What do you mean by that, Ben?” “Why, a shark?” har Ben Hawser, with an oath; “and if it ain’t the werry identical shark as sunk that poor Frenchman, why, you may call me the greatest Jandlubber as ever crawled.” ‘Do you think there is anything suspicious in the craft?” demanded Harkaway in an undertone. _ in do,” replied the skipper. : ‘You may trust Ben Haweser as well as most men, He has had more bid ee mae than TI have,” added the cap- hand aboard orig with great ankuess; “more than any “But may he not be mistaken?” “T doubt it.” ae And soon as all doubt upon the subject was set at rest, They were fast gaining upon the Chinaman, until at length they could, by the aid of their glasses, make out the _| build of the vessel, and finally the figures of the crew moving about on board. f : | CeBent” eald Captain Disher. ‘ ston | They talked “Your honor,” “Come here,” The skipper and the old tar went aft to converse alone, for some few momenta,;in, Gront pia earnestness, en they called the rest of them into their confidence, “Will you gentlemen step here for a momentt” said the skipper, “Mr, Harkaway!” “Sire? “Here,” “Now all we want are Mr, Magog Brand and Mr. det: ferson.” ‘‘Where’s young Jack?” said Harkaway, senior. “Here, dad,” “Go below and fetch Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Brand.” “Say that Captain Disher begs the fayor of a few min- utes’ conversation,” said the skipper. “Aye, aye, sir,” said young Jack, “A smart lad, your son, Mr. Harkaway,” said Captaia Disher, “‘and you ought to be proud of him,” “ey am.” “And I too,” said Harvey; “we all are proud of him, in fact, and reason we haye too for our pride.” Back came young Jack, followed by Mr. Jefferson and his little friend, Magog Brand, the two negroes, Sunday and Monday, and Isaac Mole, “Now, gentlemen,” said Captain Disher, “I have a matter to consult youon which demands the greatest discretion,” “You can rely on us all,” said Mr, Jefferson. “T know it,” ’ ~ “Tt is about the Chinaman out yonder, if I mistake” not,” said Magog Brand. j The captain nodded, ‘That is a Chinese pirate!” “A pirate!” echoed his hearers, in a breath. “Yes; moreover, it is a vessel which Ben Hawser knows of old. It is a junk that cruises about these Jatitudes, preying upon the smaller craft, and, asa rule, fighting very shy of anything likely to give them any trouble. Now, they would not be likely to cause us any trouble if we ‘chose to show them a clean pair of heels.” “Then, by all means do it.” said Mr, Mole, eagerly, “Silence!” “Let the captain continue.” “Now, Ihave a scbeme for playmg a little game of our own with John Chinaman, if you are all’ willing.” “Explain, captain,” said Mr, Jefferson, ; “Why, the game I have to propose would involve us in some danger, and I don’t know whether we should be justified: leading you into it,” “At least not without your consent,” “We give it.” : c “Understand,” said the captain, “that with your con- sent danger, and perhaps death, will be close toevery man on board.” ‘Very good, gentlemen; I knew you would be all of that mind, only as you have wivesand families, I thonght you would like to have the matter submitted to your con- sideration first,” said Captain Disher. y “Put it to the vote,” suggested Magog Brand. “Hands up, then!” said the skipper, “hands up for ayes—who agrees to follow out my scheme?” All hands went up but Isaac Mole’s. Thereupon the tutor, finding himself alone, was fearful of g hia nee for bravery, and up went his hand with a ourish, } “Very good,” “Now for the details,” said Mr, Jefferson, “And count upon my help,” said Mr. Mole, PES “Thank you, sir,” rep the captain, who had a cér- tain sense of the ridiculous; “no doubt it will prove most valuable.” * And then Captain Disher proceeded to explain his plans for tricking the Chinese pirate ship. They had afew guns—very few—but ainongst them was one which was a terrible wespon. It was only a small brass privet but it was mounted upon a clever mechanical = ance, which made it as easy to point as a pocket pistol, and it was as true as adie, This they placed upon the Ee eb ppr and covered it over with a piece of tarpau- n, so that it looked more like luggage, with a covering to protect it from the weather, than a gun.” “The next thing, captain?” demanded Jefferson, ; “Muster all the small arms on board; let ev be sane and placed in readiness for knmediate “Ne hI “Next let the cutlasses be—" “Man overboard!” cried the look-out. “Where?” : sir,” was the reply, ‘“They’ve use.” “From the Chinaman made a poor devil walk the plank, your honor.” \ Glasses were brought to bear the scene, and it — was found to be true. The pirates had got an unfortu- nate wretch of a prisoner, whom they had just driven overboard with blows and prods from their marlinspikes, — The look-out had — being over the the water, until eld himeelf aa cad aid, They sailed on : pike up by one of the ship’s boats,. Just in time. Had hey been ten minutes later, forever. The rescued man was & he did get his breath, his volubility was se iy can nevare tank you'so mosh dan I aed be

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y /HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. 47] —— bowie 6 his knees before Captain Disher, ‘‘You have saved my life, capitaine.’ “All right, mounseer,” replied Captain Disher; ‘no use to ver over it, I should have done as much for ~ “And they have fought a French ‘La Fleur de Marie,’ du Haxre.” “You fought hard. ¥ suppose?”’ “Comment donc!’ ejaculated the little Gaul, fiercely, ‘Hard! we fight like geants.” “Many kn led?” Fg helas!” sighed the Frenchman; ‘all.’ it yaad “Oui. monsieur tous.” Two?” said the skipper, with a puzzled air; “and that all the crew. The ‘Floor de Mary’ couldn’t have been a very important craft.” “No,” remarked Jack Harkaway, laughing heartily at this; ‘tous is the French for all—everybody.” “Oh!” cried the skipper, quite nettled at his mistake; “then if two means everybody, tt’s a damned stupid lin. go, that’s all I’ve got to say on the matter.” CHAPTER XL. THR BATTLE WITH THE PIRATE, ‘“Houp hard, monsieur! Did they see us aboard the i ye before you had the walk into the water?” “ 0. “gure?” “Gertain. monsieur.” “Then it is ble that they haye not seen us even yet,” cried Harkaway, “Scarcely,” said Oaptain Disher; “they would watch him in the water, and then they would be sure to see 1s, even if their look-out had been so badly kept before.” «“‘Pent-etre—perhaps,” said the little Frenchman; “I am not sure. They were all so dronks than a pig. I mix de grog myself,” “JT don’t quite understand hew you mean,” said Jack Harkaway. ‘How came you to mix the grog for them?”’ “J will tell you,” replied the little man, ‘when dey fall ‘pon us, and I see dat we shall all be lost—all be prison- os or killed, so I got the laudanum-from de medicine box, and pour into de rum and de wine.” “Oho!” cried Harkaway, “I see now.” “So I serve dem all grog, and presently half began t snore; but deré was tree of the crew—des abrutis—beasts Malays, who will not to drink, and dey suspect someting —les miserables! Dey make me ik de plank into de fea, where they pretend to see sharks.” “So then, Mossoo Potirong,” said Captain Disher, “the best part of this crew are tight?” : “Vat is tight?” “Half seas ovare.” The little Frenchman was puzzled at this. ete seas ovare? Ido not know him more den de oder. ' ‘ “Groggy—soapy,” explained one of the bystanders; and then he showed it by pantomimie gestures, ‘ He made signs of drinking, and then rolled about with an exaggerated unsteadiness of gait which there was no misunderstanding. ; “T see, I see,” said So td Potiron; ‘‘gris—en ribote.” “Call it whatever you like, monsieur; we means tight,” persisted Ben fawser, “and that’s clear enough for aly aonest man to say—tight’s the word.” “Vell, then, tight—yes, monsieurs; 80 dronk dan Po- lonais.” . Ben Haweer started again at this queer simile, “Ag drank as polonics!” he exclaimed, ‘Well, of all the rum lingoes, this blessed parleyyoo licks them all,” Harkaway got impatient of these goa aeons ore and playing on mistakes in language, and 80, as briefly _ as possible, he put the matter before M, Hypolite Pot- iron. f = ‘What we want to do is this,” said Harkaway; “we think that, without exposing ourselves to any very des- porate risk, we can take arise out of John Chinaman,” Monsieur Potiron nodded approvingly, “Vat sall you to do?” “Yeu shall see.” . They set to work in the first place to rig up a tarpaulin _ canopy on deck; which was to shelter their operations from view, Wnder this canopy they set to work actively to collect their small arms, which were loaded by two of the sailors. They next got the largest gun they pos- Position, This done, the captain asked for good marks- _ men to volunteer to go up into the rigging. _ jg, Gonsider me for one, captain,” said Magog Brand; ; te “Remington will pick @ few of the pirates off-” een one,” added Jefferson, Ena the rascals ADH join am no baby with powder and shot,” “Pry i yodl ce Nabley, who was a crack shot. coms wae in te rae cela Ss and he followed his a] 7 ; “ae enti iis gentlemen all,” said Captain Disher, Understand, j¢ i : /ignt, ta antteot Wie hey should happen to be on the 1ook- ‘ AE ee enventin” PRP Er iene doaingy they, mtvt And 80 the shrouds were man , shooters, Byery man anned by volunteer sharp- and twenty ronan tay aul death-dealing weapon one, for those brave men Pers eat, lane _ “‘Dve read, Captain Disher, away, “of burning a. X a ‘knew what missing ‘said young Jack , sessed up under their canopy and wheeled it round into} meant death for some) Hark- 7 ae 70) | “Red-hot shot, captain.” : ‘Well, Master Harkaway, and what then?” = “Why not try it on now?” “There is something in what you say, my lad.” ‘Phen you'll do it?” “What do you say, Mr, Harkaway, to your son’s sug- gestion?” asked the captain. ‘Might do worse,” replied Harkaway, “True; but I must fire low.” “Just above the watermark. I suppose?” said Hark- away. “That's it.” “Good,” The preparations went bravely on. Ten bold and skillful marksmen were up in tho rigging. These were Magog Brand, Jefferson, Nabley, Pike, Dick Harvey, Monday, Harry Girdwood, a passenger named Professor Shloppen, who was near-sighted, and shot in spectacles with a muzzle-loader, and two of the sailors. The two guns beneath the tarpaulin canopy were manned by the most efficient gunners on board. The erew were then all summoned to the captain’s side, aud he gave them a brief but stirring address. “Listen to me, my lads,” Oaptain Disher said; ‘I've got some good news for you. Now I have reason to be- lieve that, as true-born men, you will be mighty pleased to hear—” ‘ ‘‘Aye, aye, captain.” ‘ “Well, my men, the Chinaman you see ahead of us is a pirate.” © Men gave a groan. “Those sharks have just run down and scuttled a French ship, and murdered the crew and passengers in cold blood,” Another groan, “ “Well, I ask you, as English and Americans, can you sy by and witness these things?” () “No, no!” -“No, of course we can’t,” said the captain. what shall we do?” i “Down with the pirates!” cried the crew, wilu one ‘oice, “That's it,” said the skipper; ‘4 knew you would say that. Down witli the pirates! Now we must make them feel our power.” Aye, aye, Captain, let them feel our power,” cried the pee some of them commencing tuck up their sleeves, “Now, Pll tell you,” continued Captain Disher, “that poor devil of a mounseer we rescued has greatly helped us, to begin with, He has made a lot of them square by hocussing their A a “Hurrah for the mounseer!” shouted one of the crew. “According to his report there are only a few of the men fit to take care of themselves; but three toone we don't mind, but we must creep up close on to ’em, Then, before they can say Jack Robinson, pop a couple of red-hot shot into ’em.” . “But suppose, your honor,’ said one of the sailors, “that they turn up right and show fight?” “Well, what then?” « “Tt might'look awkward like if we couldn't get out of range of their guns,” { “Out of range be blowed!” interrupted Ben Hawsor. “Why, we have got a lot of gentlemen in the rigging as can shoot against any team in creation.” Yer, but—” cried Ben Hawser, ef grr “Then vi “But—but—but!” ‘he skunks won’t stand a chance against ua; ‘they be picked off as fast as they appear.” “But they may be twenty to one,” - “I confess,” said. the captain, ‘‘we have got a tough job before us; - but if, we are all of one mind and plenty of pluck, we shall avenge those poor French men and women who haye beon brutally murdered.” “Huzza!? cried one of the more enthusiastic of the men, And then they all took up the cry, with the ex- ception of one man, He did not seem to relish the job, and, grumblingly, he dissented, “But supPos! ig that we should be beaten?” *“And—" Bag “And get into a mess?” “Why, then,” coolly returned Ca beta all probability be made sho! 8 “You don’t care for that?” “Well, I don’t, I signed articles to help work ship, not oa fight achat 0 you did, Mason,” returned the tain, quickly. “So you aid.”” ee ; sts ae y “And I don’t care to—” ' “Quite right,” interrupted Captain Disher, hse ir! is a, tain Disher, ‘we work of.” incensed at this. “Go down below until the skin over, Down with you.” : The man paused, and then, irritated by the crew, hé turned round and faced the skipper with a bold front, “Go down below, Mason,” said the captain, sharply, “and save your precious skin, No remarks, We don’t want any half-hearted men, They do more harm than good at such a time as this.” Mason retreated and went below, The test of the crew were not merely willing to fight the Pirate, they were delighted with the chance, ‘The prepatétions for the encounter being so faf completed in one direction, they turned their attention to the decoy part © per- formance, It was done in this way, A quadrille party was got up aft by the sailors, a clumey affair, for they were better at hornpi than at the “ladies’ chain,” but it was good enough for the* pur- Harry Gird- look ine mee = ee 5 5 1 teas eel And now they were so near that up aloft they could see distinctly ali that was going forward on board. — , This corroborated all that the little Frenchman had saidy There were three or four dark-skinned fellows, paked to their waists, and armed with aformidable array of knives and pistols stuck in their belts. These were the Malays. Ii was pretty evident that they were the only members of the crew that were not under the influence of liquor. “Do they all seem asleep or dead on board?” asked the captain. Jefferson gave a look through the glass again before replying, the Malays are busy enough, ca) ” he replied, “but the Chinamen appear to me to asleep. They're calling them up from below.” “TI can see them tumbling up.” “So can I,” said etsy Brand; “they are swarming up the hatchways now like . p the hatch way! bees.” “Up they come.” It was true, The thought of plunder had seryed more than anything else to shake off the waindss of the pirates, In the epace of about ten minutesthe deck was home ie alive with the repulsive-looking wretches: who traded in slaughter, “They appear to be working into something,” said Pike; “I can see one man, who appears to be an officer, giving commands.” 4 “On grand?” called up Monsieur Potiron, “a tall, big: a eee ‘Dat is de capitaine.” “Ts he? By gum!” ejaculated Pike. “Then he shall have half an ounce of solid lead if I can shoot a little bit.” j ; “I say, mounseer,” said Captain Disher, “can you shoot?” + “Un peu—a leetle,” answered the Frenchman, *‘See ere, He drew back his coat and showed a silver medal on his breast, “Premier prix—first prize for shooting at the tir,” he said proudly. “Yon clamber up into the rigging, then,” said the captain, quickly. “You know their officers, and you can pick them off”, The Frenchman was soon provided with a capital rifle —HarkaWway’s property+and up he went like a cat. Once there, he oul not control his impatience as the others had done, but taking along, steady aim at the pirate captain, he blazed away, ‘he tall pirate captain dropped with a bullet in his brain, “Who's that?” called out Captain Disher, furiously. “Me,” returned Monsieur Potiron, proudly, “I haye killed de captaine.’’ “And us too, very likely; hang your blundering. Now then, Ben Hawser.” 4 “Ave, aye, sir.” . “Stand to your guns,” : ig “Aye, aye, your honor,” — - ‘i “Every shot must tell! Aim low—just above the water’ ne,” ‘Ready now—blaze away!” This was the best course to pursue, after all, as the precipitate Potiron had Bue them upon the alert. In lesa than a minute more, their dwarf battery was unmasked, and Ben Hawser sped his first iron messenger, crashing into the junk’s side. They watched pe ey for the re- sult, It struck her just above the water line, and they could see that it was a goodly hole. The Chinese now gee themselves hoarse in striving to work themselves nto something like a fit state for righting their ship. One of the Malays took up the command promptly, and. mounting upon a chest, he issued commands right and left, through a speaking trumpet. He aj to be getting matters Pah Rae so Hypolite mn looked after him, ie took his aim steadily, and fired. And the Malay, throwing up his arms dropped down from his chest, dead, “Two!” cried the little Frenchman; *I must haye a score, before I shall be happy.” ; Meanwhile the Chinese had run out their guns and unmasked their portholes. Every gun was fully manned, “Now!” eried Jefferson to his companions generally, ‘fisten to me. We must not waste a shot—let us pick out our men—do you hear?” : “We do,” ; : “Listen, ‘Waste not a word—not a moment, any mors than a shot. ‘This is of the highest importance. Itake the furthest gunner. You, Magog, take the next,” _ Pn Re the next,” ‘You the next, Nabley,” _ Lia i will,” ae 99 a “Pick oupthe men bringing the ammunition.” Yes, sar,” ,, “Now, then, steady—aim slowly, fine; ane réload,”* “Good!’ said the marksmen in the uds, with one voice. 7 , Then came a rattling volley! Six of the pirates dropped upon the deck, four writhing in the throes of death, two quite dead. Six men pease into their places at once. But before they could make another step in the loading — of the guns, they were picked off. While they were.thus , .d-hot shot had been dropped in the midst of engaged, a red-hot ass 4 the pirate erew by Ben Hawser, An “8 occured a momentary panic amongst the Chinese, Ww) ich looked as though it was all over with them. 1 But fast as some were killed, a of the supply their places. 80 numerous were these SREY steaire bilo Sunday had clambered the to; most part of the rigging, glass in hand, and with a rifle there were others to

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80 first unlucky shot, and already the pirates had lost over forty men. It was hot work, “Look out! They’re sending gharpshooters up into the rigging!” Three of the rifles were turned from the gunners. “Hold hard!” cried Jefferson, coolly, “don’t be rash, Keep to the gunners, or it will soon be all Over with us. Let them get well up before we fire.” ‘This was valuable advice to give. Had thoy left the gunners free to continue the strife, it would have gone hard with the American ship. Sunday let one fellow get onto the cross-trees and settle himself comfortably. Then he loaded'rapidly. - “Now, you ugly nigger,” said he, ‘you shall have it, by golly!” And he dropped a bullet into the fellow’s body. It was not a desperate wound, but the shock made him lose his balance. He staggered. Tried to catch at the cross-tree and save himself. In vain. He jerked round and top- yRed over, sending the man beneath him headlong on to the deck, And so they scattered confusion for a mo- ment amongst their friends, and put themselves out of the fight for good. CHAPTER XLI. THE END OF THE FIGHT—A DISASTER. “A goon shot, Sunday,” said Jefferson; and as he spoke, he picked off another of the men who were vainly endeavoring to work the guns. Any man amongst the Chinese who showed himself at all prominently was dropped in a twinkling, sometimes with two or more bulletsin his wretched carcase. Meanwhile, three red- hot shots had been sent on board the junk, which was burning in two places, ‘ 4 “Steady, lads!” cried Captain Disher. Sunday was seen gliding down the rigging, hand-over- hand, as fast as he could come. But, alack for the faithful and brave black! just as he was nearing’ the deck, a ball from the junk struck him in the calf of his right leg. Down he fell howling. “T see the skunk,” said Jefferson, flring a shot as coolly as though he was practising at the butts. a He had seen him, and what is more, he picked hitn off, thus avenging Sunday before his wound was on’ minute old, Sunday scrambled up and crawled to Captain Disher’s side, while the latter was in earnest consultation with ye Harkaway the elder about the progress of the ght, ‘ , “Do you think it is safe?” the captain was saying as Sunday approached, / “Safe as canbe,” was Harkaway’s reply. “We have hid it all our own way up to the present, for they were taken by surprise,” said the captain; ‘but once let them get one of their big gunsinto position, and it would be allover with us,” “That's if,” returned Harkaway; “but we don’t mean tolet them. We all know there’s danger, but nd more than what we run at present, and short of dropping a pene shot into th powder magazine, I don’t see ow— ' “Dat’a me,” said Sunday, hobbling up, with a groan. “Hullo, Sunday! Seratched?” said Harkaway. Yea, sar; dem dam tiefs shoot dis poor beggar in de ' “Go below and get it seen to, then, at once.” “Presently, sar,”’ said Sunday; “jes now I’se busy.” “What?” 2 “T want to spoke to you pertikler, gemmen, T’se come to tell you, Massa Harkaway, where dey ge de powder from.” His hearers started. : “The magazine?” ‘Where is it situated?” added the captain. ‘*Yes, sar.” “Tell us where, my good fellow,” said the captain, eagerly; ‘and then get down below to look after) your hurt,for brave men are scarce.” ep me up, sar, on to de chest, and I’ll p’nt it out, They obeyed. , “Now then, Sunday, quick,” said Harkaway, very anxiously. jxou ‘Bee dat gong switg jes a little way off?” 8, ; i \ { “Well?” 3 - We mmen, dey fetches der powder from jes be- hind dat i 2 age *Do they?” j Harkaway spotted the place through his glass. f _ well?” dai Captain Disher. } Harkaway nodded his head. } “Sunday's right.” _ j " , “Then hang me,” cried the captain, {4f they’ll bring much more powder from there.’ 5 ( _ . He jumped from the chest, and in a few strides was _ beside Ben Hawser. Now Ben was stripped to the waist, spate Was mii exraite eat mA} 2» LO) or A “Ben,” said the captain, vi ‘ “Your honor,” ‘We haye good news,” _ “The warminis have struck?” said Ben, excitedly. “No.” ‘We have spo' eir powder ” Ben gave a regular jump when he heard this. “Is that a fact, captain? Pik mae Se eee eae ty “Then you were of their own com Act, aie HRN ab Ni HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD, BOUND. Ben Hawser chuckled mightily as he sighted his gun | and three of the pirates in. that boat for the gong. He did not let his mirth spoil his careful aim, for he felt certain now of putting an end tothe bat- tle at a single blow. “Now for the shot,” The ball, heated to whiteness, was swung into the can- non, and Ben took his long fusee, “Ready!” “Look out! Danger ahoy!” shouted those aloft. “They’re lowering boats.” Bang went the gun, and there was a terrific crash on board the pirate. ‘The alarming cry from those aloft had startled Ben Hawger at the critical moment, and he had applied the fusee just a second or so too late. Though the water was comparatively still, care had to be taken to allow to a nicety for the rise and fall of the vessel. The co uence was that instead of landing the magazine, as he fondly hoped and expected, he shot the gong, It was far from being a bad shot as it happened, but yet not near enough, ‘ve played the last tune on their Chinee fiddle,” said Ben Hawser, grimly, “but I must land their magazine.” But this was easier said than than done, The alarm given from aloft proved to be too well founded, While ie aed lost in confusion, the pirates were quietly planning a bold retaliation, The water was suddenly seen to be literally alive with boats, and the peril was serious for our friends, <) Captain Disher and Harkaway held a hurried consul- fation on the matter, “What is your advice now, Mr, Harkaway?” demanded the skipper. “This is a puzzler.” “Something must be done, and sharply, too.” “Tt must.” is ‘We shall have to sheer off.” “Never.” “We must, for the pirates are yet twenty to one of us.” “Drop a shot or two into the boats, Let Ben Hawser try his skill on them.” “Yes, and what of the pirates in the junk?” “The sharpshooters in the rigging are taking care of them.” “No; it will not do. If we once let their boats swarm around us, we are Jost. Once let them be free to work their guns, and good bye tous, The smartness of our fire, and our great activity, have alone kept us safely through the job so far.” He gaye orders for working the ship. The change in her tactics was at once perceived, for the pirates in the boats set up the most discordant cries and cheers. Pre- sently Harkaway, came with a rush to offer Captain Dish- er a suggestion. “What now, Mr. Harkaway?” asked the captain, ‘Why not lower some boats to meet them?” The captain reflected for 4 moment. “Tt would gain time, if it did no further good.” “T think you are right, Mr. Harkaway, Dll haye boats lowered. May I leave you in charge while I go aft and get volunteers to man the boats?”” “Good,” The captain called for volunteers for the boats, and a dozen came forward at once to offer their services. Among these volunteers were two lads. These two lads were young Girdwood and Jack Harkaway, junior. Young Jack was full of eagerness to be off before his father or Dick Harvey should see them, for he guessed that they would ie a stop to his fighting, if they should discover it. rowers pulled desperately for pirate’s boats. the nearest of the 'wo of the latter had been lowered and inanned a few minutes before, the oth- ers, anid. now they were considerably in advance of the ofthem, ‘To engage those two boats was the inten- tion of the desperate—not to say foolhardy—young he- roes. The irate, who were not notorious for their bravery, be it remarked, pulled to meet them, simply be- canse they were ignorant of how far in advance they nions. Otherwise, they would not have ventured two boats against one of their enemy. mien Six to one was their notion of proper fighting odds, Very sae “Pull into this near boat,” cried young Tack excitedly. “Let's bear them down.” “Ave aye!” cried the rowers, as if with one voice. The Chinese were yelling and shouting, and brandish- ing long knives, as thoughithey would have made sausage meat of them all, But nosooner did they see the boat nearing them, than they pulled away with desperation. “The measly skunks!” ejaculated one of the sailors, “Give ’em a volley.” “No, no,” cried Harry Girdwood; “not just yet.” He was net less braye than his youn comrade, but he was not quite soimpetuous. The battle is not always to the brave. But his commands were not stricktly obeyed, One of the pirates, a tall Chinese, in a brown jacket, or rather sm ade himself cons) icnous, by standing up, and giving orders ‘with a good deal of noise, and young Jack could not resist the pleasure of ha a pop at him with his revolver, ‘The fellow dropped with a howl of eae The fall of their leader spread dismay and con- usion amongst the crew of the boat, and they would have fot out of range sharply had they been able to. If. But they were not, This proved to be the signal fora general fight, during which the second boat pulled nearer and nearer, eeeny ae vigor: _“Larboard and board, we shall get it now!” éx- claimed one of the boat’s crew, ! “Run into this one. Chop them down in a crack, and then we shall be free to bowl over the rest.” It was not quite so easiry done as said. They pulled with desperate vigor to the boat in question, but before A volley from the r rifles i cries of anguish, and yells of defiance, they pulled om until the two boats dashed against each other. Simulta- neously, the crews fell upon each other with desperation, Knives, pistols, creeses, hatchets, cutlasses, were used with such vigor that, in a few seconds, the blood was running like water, and there was not a man or boy present that was not woundéd, ‘Then it was that the su- periority of the British and Americans showed itself over the Celestials. The vigor of the onslaught was such that the Chinese were knocked all of a heap in the mid- dle of their boat, It would haye been an easy victory, comparatively, had not the second boat pulled inte them. Then young Jack, who was leaning on his cut- lass, trying vainly to staunch an ugly cut in his side, saw their peril. “Took out, my lads,” ke shouted; “lower your oars, and pull off, or we shall be caught between two fires.” Several of the men scrambled back to their seats, while the rest pushed off by the Chinese boat, leaving a ghastly proof of their prowess behind them. “There’s a boat coming to support us.” “Where?” “There, from the ship.” “Hurrah!” y “We'll give ’em pepper yet,” cried o The two pirates followed them up, Ww. slowly drew near, “Thats a rum sort of reinforcement to send,” cried the coxswain, looking over his shoulder, “Why rum?” asked the next man. ‘Why, there’s only two men in the boat.” This was true, One of these men was the cowardly member of the créw, who had been ordered below by Captain Disher at the commencement of the action, The other was Jack Harkaway’s evil genius, the ruffian Hun- ston. How came they together? They were kindred spirits, and a word will presently explain the seeming mystery. Desperate indeed was the position of young Jack’s party. Ets Already overmatched by the foe, who mustered more than thrice their strength, they were falling back, not upon friends, but upon their worst enemies. The boats drew closer again. And now, when they were within pistol shot, Hunston stood up in the boat, and fired point blank at Harry Girdwood, ‘The shot missed, But the object was attained, and this was to show the pirates that they were friends, and fighting upon their—the pirates’ —side: In the space of two minutes the three boats closed around the gallant little crew. “Yield!” cried one of the officers of the pirates, a Malay, who spoke English tolerably well. : Jem Frost, the coxswain of the boat, leaped upon the speaker, and with ono desperate stroke,.he cut him fairly of the men. le the other boat through the skull, so that his death must have been almost instantaneous, This was the signal for a renewal of the fight. The scramble was so hot, and they were also so closely jammed, that their weapons were half the time idle, They clubbed each other with pistols, and struck out with their fists. ; : But this could not last long. English, Yankees, an os Amidst Chinese fell together in the water, and clutched with — such fierce desperation that they sank together in each other’s arms, and when, from sheer exhaustion, a mo~ | mentary lull took place in the fearful carnage. but one man was sufficiently unhurt on board the American boat to stand upright. This was Jem Frost. He stood UP, | bleeding from three flesh wounds in the face, and hol ing in his hand his trusty cutlass, dripping with the blood of five or aix of the enemy, whom he had put out of the way of doing further mischief in this world, and looking so formidable that the enemy scarce dared to tackle him alone. “Lower your arm, Jem,” eried his old measmate, who had turned traitor, “and they’ll give you quarter,” “That's a lie!” retorted Jem Frost, ‘and you know it.” + “T swear—” “Hold your jaw. I don’t want no palaver with a de- ‘serter, You're one of the enemy, Look to yourself, for damme, here’s for you.” Saying which the gallant fellow, in sheer desperation, sprang at him and cut him down, Then, swinging round his fearful weapon, he shouted: “Come on, you infernal pirates, and try the strength of a true sailor,” Fa , rah And he did damage right and left, unti. his sword arm was broken by a pistol shot; and as his weapon peli in by his side, the pirates fell upon him and bore him down, andl they stabbed and jobbed and cut at the brave — body was hacked into a score of bits, fellow, until and thrown to scent of blood. “Throw the the rayenous sharks who followed the - risoners into the water tothe sharks,” — ejaculated the chief officer of the pirates, ‘‘and let us — see them eaten.” a It would have been done, fered. : _ “I want to save two of them,” he said, “Who are you that gives orders? We'can » And so saying, the ruffian pirate waved his band as a signal to his men, The too, had rot Hunston Later- waits save none.” r wounded sailors wers — hurled over, and fell a dy prey to the ravenots— sharks, who played about the boats, redd Ae water at each fresh step in this horrible feast. ‘oof the pirates teh ee up young Jack and was nearly insensible from fatigue and about to hurl him overboard, At this critical moment Hunston showed both presence of mind and determina - tion. Whipping out his reyolver, he presented it full at the officer who given the command. ii “Stay your hand, If they throw the boy in, you shalt they made a dozen boat lengths, their progress was | die and follow him,” _ checked, A volley from the pirates disabled one of their “What do you mean?» rowers. The sailors blazed away at the pirates, but the | fate.” ‘ , second boat approached, and now the fight became| ‘Put the boy down.’ | -precious hot, e of the sailors besides young Gird-| ‘The two men looked at | wood were wounded, and it began to look desperato, _—| this order, — offi _ “Close with them, or we shall all be picked off before | Hunston’s pistol was near his hi |wecangetaslapatthem.” 4 | by a word of assent that they « farther bot now rattled about them, | and one-armed savage. ‘it, | 1 “Yo de ef id of blood, and were — 44 i 7 ar

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' *J'm quite ready,’ answered Hunston, ‘‘to your cap- tain, when we,get on board. Inthe meantime, I shall see those two boys taken to the ship alive. They are not to die yet, and not as quickly as that. When their time does come, you shall be satisfied.” 3 And that is how young Jack Harkaway and Harry Girdwood came to be preserved by their enemy Hun- ston. GHAPTER XLII. WHERE IS YOUNG JACK? Dovunriess the reader is wondering how Hunston, a prisoner on board the ‘American ship,contrived to escape, and in company with the traitor who had refused to a ar against the Chinese pirates; and who had been sent low by Captain Disher in disgrace. It was the simplest matter in the world. When ‘be man had gone below, he had come in contact with Hunston, and soon his dissatis- faction had been perceived by the prisoner. Now, Hun- ston was not slow to profit by such a circumstance as this, and soon there sprang up between these two false men a mutual understanding. It is needless to onter into particulars now; suffice it to say that they made a guilty compact together. The traitor sailor got a boat during the confusion which prevailed on board, and pro- fiting by the state of affairs, he and Hunsion contrived to get clear off the ship. x * *” * * * Captain Disher watched in breatless interest the con- flict of the boats, But when he saw the brave people beaten down—hurled into the water one after another— _ eturned away in a yery troubled state of mind. But all this time Harkaway had no idea that his boby—young Jack—and Harry Girdwood—were in one of the boats. and consequently among the slain or prisoners, Poor Harkaway! He little dreamed that the life of his boy hung on a thread during that critical period. “They are all done for,” said Harkaway, turning to the captain. **Lfear so,” said the ca again, Mr. Harkaway: oners overboard.” ( “All—stay, they appear to be taking one or two on beard.” ‘ “Indeed!” e¥eg,7 “Can you distinguish who they are?” “No; yet stay, they look to me just like two boys.” “Boys?” ; “Yeu,” é hia came boys tobe onsuch a service? Isent no ys." ¥ . “Why, there’s one just gone up,” continued Hark- away, peering through his glass, “that looks abont the “age of my Jack, You—surely you never accepted his “aervice?” “I—I—I—really don’t know; there were so many,” re- ‘plied the captain, “asking to engage with the pirates, uit I trust your braye boy is uot with them.” ‘ “Sir, if my boy has been permitted to make one of the Aghting crews in those boats, you skall account to me for his death.” 4 ‘ “Sha?” “‘Yes—shall,” “Mr, Harkaway!” cried Captain Disher, ‘you forget yourseX,” ri “If” continued Harkaway, not heeding the interrup- tion, ‘if it be shown that you have aided my rash boy to destroy himself, ee shall account to me for it, sir—to me, with your life,” / Captain Disher bowed. a “I am always at your service, Mr, Harkaway,” he re- plied, coldly, ‘“‘when and whtre you please; once my uties ended on board this ship, you may depend I shall be ready to meet you.” in, after a pause; “but look aye they thrown all the pris- ~ ILS t CHAPTER XLII, MUP FRUITS OF GLORY, 5 Carraix Disnke and Harkaway did not exchange a word for some time, but the captain made inquiries, and found to his regret that both young Jack qnd Harry Girdwood were of the ng | the boats. When they had: epee out of rifle range of the pirates, Magog Brand mn Mr, Jefferson came down from their perches in the gRing. ; Moapiain Disher,” said the latter, ‘‘we have paid heay- ily for our triumph.” ; _ The captain’s countenance fell at this, ‘ “Poor boy,” murmured Jefferson, ‘Brave young Jack! Who’ will break the news to his mother? I _ wouldn’t face her, for one,” __ The skipper, winced, If these were the sentiments _ of Mr. Jefferson, who was in no way responsible for young Jack’s loss, how musthe—the captain—have felt? ves « ; ‘ | * © toaptain | M4 r “Well, Ben?” ; . id Ps fe latent news, your henor, from below?” “Aye, six,” ~ ? ae . : ati “ a one finned skunk,” + “ ; yo? iy ‘ i “How the dickens could he have got awava” “In a boat. While we was fighting tho uhip, he got a ‘boat soméhow.” assistance at hand.” fi wre wrong, sir,” led Ben Haw- | warmint you sent be ou ving onan i i" raat _ wa: ze . Mr, Mole replied ¢ 1 Pa, ech,” my friend,” he said; they fell| — kle. One of ‘on Hig head through the breast. I had 31 “That’s what I do mean, captain)’ returned Ben gravely; ‘fand what’s more, one of our men seé ’em, in their boat, cut off our men’s retreat in the cutter,” “Indeed!” ejaculated the captain, with an oath, ‘I hope I may liye to see the villain swinging atour yard- arm.” : : Ben shook his head. “You'll neyer do that, Captain Disher,” he answered, gravely. | “Won't I, by—” “*Scuse me captain, you never will for he’s already ate up by the sharks, Braye Jem Frost cut him down, and then got finished himself. But he gave em something all round, it seems, before they could settle him.” j “Brave fellow! ” “He was that, sir. It seems he played the devfl with ‘em He peppered ’em right and left, raked ’em fore and aft, as one might say, in 4 manner of speaking,” “Blow me, Captain Disher continued Ben, ‘tit gives me a tingling in the snout as if my blessed peepers was a-going-to begin pumping.” ; ‘Damme, sir, they’re hanging out signals of distress already for my old pal, Jem Frost.” * * * * % * % Need we say that Mrs, Harkaway was heartbroken when she became aware of herloss? The shocking mishap, which closed their otherwise triumphant brush with the pirate, cast a gloom over the whole ship's company and passengers for the rest of the voyage. Poor Emily! it’ seriously affected her health. Do what they would, she could not be roused from the deep melancholy which settled npon her, Jack and their many friends vainly tried to comfort her, Mr, Jefferson exerted all his reasoning powers, and exerted them in vain, “You must not make yourself so wretched over this. Mrs, Harkaway,” he repeated continually. -“You see that our Jack has a special knack of his own of getting out of the most difficult scrapes.” ; She shook her head and sighed in reply. “This is more difficult than all, Mr. Jefferson,” she would say. “I dare not even hope that my poor boy lives.” “Pl bet my life, ma’am, that he,does,” “Tt is not likely.”’ “Why not?” ‘You think as yon wish, I would that I could too.” “My dear lady,” the giant Kentuckian would reply, “I don’t’ simply think, I know, positively know—it is a species of instinct with me, that is precisely the same as positive knowledge—your boy lives, and will be restored to you, Of that you may be as sure as that we two are at present here talking together.” “I wish I could think so,” was all the answer that the bereaved mother could make. i CHAPTER XLIII. BELEICOSE MOLE, Somr days after, our 6]d friend Mole, ventured on deck, and met the little Frenchman, “My name is Isaac Mole, sir, at your service.” “and I am called Hypolite Potiron, monsieur, your tres humble serviteur.”” ‘ > And they exchanged bows. The Frenchman was as full of motion as the dancing barber. Mr. Mole bowed with the grace of a Chesterfield, in spite of a certain’ stiffness caused by the rigidity of his wooden member, “We can congratulate ourselves, sir, holesome lesso: given those wretches a w said Mr. Mole. Happy Mole, He was under the im as he spoke, th i s enced sata the action, and how he had ht comfort, and consolation under bedclothes wi 1s, Mole in their berth... He humbugged himeelf no Jess than his hearer. And that was saying something. “Thaven’t given those raseals suclia lesson, monsieur,” “not for years,” y “Truly, sir.” ate vn the disagreeeble h V6 you eyare had onor of fight- ing ze puke before, sare?” . “Fighting!” echoed Mr. Mole, with a withering look at the F man. “I gee you do not know me so well as the war offices of all nations do.” 4 And then he was buried in silent reflection for seyeral minutes, as if mentally Aghting his battles o'er again. “Fighting, monsieur!” he went on; why, the action «| in which I commanded was, perhaps, the hottest on record,” “Indeed, sare!” “A fact, gir,” : “The pirates must have been nombreux—numbrous, bes you call—dat is 9 Ga rol P t umerous, you mean, Monsieur Potiron,” the tutor. 1# 3 et 3 af Wi “ 6B."? , “Well, of course,” “Great odds, as you say.” ee “Forty to one,” returned Mr, Moje, unblushingly, _“Morbleu!” ; “Yes, sir; and I fought eightech of them single- handed, and, in I may mention that I was more ‘embarrassed by the bodies of the slain which I piled up around me than by allelse. Two hours and a quarter ee ot strife went on, and I smote them hip and On the hip and on al strike in ze same pl: by a supercilious smile, * 444) “A figure of re my arm ke ripe corn before a sickle, ' u two saber cuts on the and I lost this leg in that fight.” _ ; ; j % a ah " —_ ‘I challenged him to upon having Sai at he materially contributed to their success.’ Already he forgot the painful, ny ead gout como mM the thigh? How conld you, sare, | “Vat a great man!” cried the little Frenchman, in pro found admiration: j ; ay “You flatter me,” said the diffident Mole, **You must be a very great personage in said Monsieur Potiron, : Mr. Mole smiled bipan) apeaee “Well, yes, history will re my deeds.” “Mais si—yes; a great capitaine.” ; “Well,” said Mr. Mole, “I must confess that my little feats were much talked about in England.” Your little feets? You mean, sare, ze one you hayes lose?”’ Mr. Mole looked puzzled at this. He could not fathom M, Potiron’s meaning for awhile. But presently it dawned upon him.’ “JT see your mistake, monsieur,” he said; “I don't mean feet—not f-double-e-t, but feat—tf-e-a-t—a deed of daring in this instance,” “Oh-h-h, I see’? exclaimed the Frenchman “Yes,” pursued Mr, Mole;-‘‘I was known for along time as Mole, the Bold Buccaneer.” . eDrety? Mid “Yes,” ‘Mole ze Boucanier?” : “Mole the Bold Buecaneer,” continued the tutor calmly; ‘‘by others I was known as Mole the Avenger— some called me Mole the Pirates’ Terror.” Monsieur Potiron stepped back to takea long look of , deep admiration at the disinterested Mole, who was 80 condescending as to relate his own glories for his /Poti- ron’s) special edification, There was no mistaking the wild, extravagant admiration which the little Frenchman had for Isaac Mole from that moment. Continentalh ars more given to gesticuiating than we islanders, and Mon- sieur Potiron expressed as much with a shrug and a grimace as Mr. Mole could bave done in a long 6 “T know now, sare,” said he, after a moments refiec- tion. “Know what?” demanded Mr. Mole. Pehla! ze pirate have done so little when we engage ” “Do you? Why?” > “Dey have hear that you were on board.” ‘Likely enough,” returned the tutor, “Tt is sure.” ya “Tt would not surprise me,” said Mr. Mole, ‘for it has been my lot to see a villanous pirate once strike his coJ- ors without so much as firing a.shot when I summoned him to surrender.” “Nevare.” “Fact, sir.” J <hehl4 “And what did you to them, vid de pirates?” “Hung ’em up to our yardarm; seven of a row, sir, as I'm, a sinner.” . “Extraordinaire!” exclaimed Mr, Potiron, “So you'd have said if you had only seen our crew, Why, sir, they were twenty to one, and carried forty guns, while we hadn’t so much as a howitzer,” ‘What is he, howitzer, Monsieur Mole?” “A small gun, a little cannon. ‘The pirate chief was a desperate fellow, over six feet high, and big in piper. tion. He did all he could to make his men Aght, but | England,” they were demoralized. “By your great name?” # “Yes.” ws sa “Oh!” ~ “Well, sir, he to think himself hardly done by, 80 I thought I would give hin, a chance,” | It was too generons of you, sare.” — \ Peper eae we then I always respect co’ Mid “I could not hang bim in cold blood with the rest, so single combat,” ! " Cre nom d’une pipe!” ejaculated Monsieur Potirong ‘tvat a hero it is~and you did fight?” © = “Yes, he was a tough customer,” . “He chose to fight with swords, cutlasses”” “We fought for an hour and a half.” “¥ ran him through the body five times,” said Mole, flourishing his umbrella, “but he would not give in, 86 I was forced to chop him to bits literally.” +4 “A most remarkable man,” iy \ “He saluted me as he fell, covered with wounds, and . his Jast words were a compliment to me—an undeserved compliment, I may say.” A ; zy ‘ “No, no.” j “Indeed it was.” SUG at “And vat said ze ite to ze brave Monsieur Mole?” Mr. Mole coughed, and after a moment’s reflection, said: “The last words of the pirate chief were: ‘Honor to the brave Mole,’” : “Allow me ze distinguished honor, Monsieur Mole,” said the Frenchman, with a most elaborate bow, ‘to | take your hand, It is a privilege most distingue. I felicitate the greatest warrig. the world has seen since my father was in the world,” “Your father!” “You,” Bip “Was he a great soldier?” FAI a “What, sare! Is it possible dat you do not know my father?” : oF eily a ny “T regret to say I did not.” ; } ‘He was the great rival of Bona Feces F “Dear, Saat exclaimed Mr, Mole, “that carries us back a very Jong way. Ny q aayih \ “ assuredly; My father won aia tatty bie bravery, Monsieur Mole. Not by scheming as de did. Dey was at ze bataille of Morengo togerer, Ze bataille was lose.” PTT tet TA “Lost,” 4 ¥ ‘Lost, Oni—lost but for my fader—-father I mean, the ar of a whole ‘ is ier At the head of ten men he stoo i) wing of the enemy's army—five thousand! Mr sis eyes at Bee a ar at not lying hi - alive to ridicule of wild exaggeration in others, ie $ re ul of “France.” Nebin si

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HARKAWAY AND HIS SON HOMEWARD BOUND. Mole, in some disgust. “‘Gome, I say, monsieur, don’ youd you are mistaken about the general details?” , Bare,” “Yon must be.” \ Monsiour Potiron looked as fierce as a maggot. “T don’t mis af ze sword to any’ oes and I can prove it at the point | little omhOufel “Your will.” “Vill! Vat is vill?” “Your last dying words.” 2 oe Ba The notion appeared to ake Monsieur Potiron just a ble. Mr. Mole perceived his advantage. He swaggered, and looked as ible as Pistol himself Mr. Mole coughed. Moe had mos expected quite so fierce | on the field of Agincourt. a retort. “J don’t care to make two or three bites at a cherry,” . “[ wonder,” thought he to himself, “if he really means | said Mole, with his regular military cough, ‘I shall it, or if he is only trying to bounce me.” He thought he would test it, So he puton a swagger. “{ know much about the point of the sword, Monsieur Potiron,” he said, ‘and I am acquainted with ‘pistols. 4 “ ‘Ah!’ “f.can snuff a candle at eighteen paces.” “Ohi? “I can toss up a glove and cut out the thumb before it reaches the ground.” **Neverl” “‘® fact, sir,” answered Mr. Mole, nesta ot “OrIcan spot every pip on the nine of hearts, every shot,” “Dat is vat I call ver’ good shooting, sare.” “Well, it isn’t to say bad.” “No, parbleu! you must be a man to fear,”” ““No—not to fear,” fe Mr. fp sew a manage 4 Lo ire respect by keep’ g myself in g practice, that’s atts ever since I winged those three men in the trenches,” “Three!” Yes!” “Vat!—all together?” “Yes, it was all at the same affair; in point of fact, I potted them all three, as nearasa toucher, simul- ly, and this is how if was done, “We fought with revolvers; I pinked one off, and be- fore they could say Jack Robinson turned my weapon and gave the other two the contents of a chamber each.,’ “Wonderful!” “Not wonderful,” said Mr. Mole; ‘‘the fact is shooting became a science with me,” j “Byidemment,” said Potiron, ‘‘evidently.” “You have never seen my feat of abaditags straight up in the air and cutting the bullet with another before it ean reach the earth,” Monsieur Potiron gasped again at this. ““You don’t mean that I Zana believe dat?” “It is a fact, sir.” “Sare,” said Monsieur Potiron, looking indignant, “you laugh at me.” “T would not be so rude,” replied Mr. Mole, ‘though tas wonder at your supposing you were being laughed “Why, sir?” “You must be used to ‘*Morblen!” ejaculated auiswer for dat.’ ‘with pleasure,” 3 returned Mr, Mole, cheerfully, ‘Shall I fetch my pistols?” “No, zare, 26 sword is zeonly arm dat a gentleman can fight with.” “Pistols.” $ “J insist upon ze sword,” “Very good,” said Mr. Mole, complacently, “You shall have a sword, and {ll bring up my paiyof revolv- ers. Dye see?” non shall quarte and tierce, d thrust away you all qu ani a till woujure eid, and Til papper y ou.” etting laughed at.” | otiren, ferociously, “you shall _ “Peypare me! ‘Cre, nom ‘yun chiénp Pep; me?” Yes, monsieur,” said Mole, throwing hi to an attituds caleulated to inspire the other with awe. “And damme, sir, i fallen the first one I have R Bo take a man’s counsel and go and your ” ; - “What?” voila hend Bow very much I admire—” the latter was evidently loth to telli ne and ‘sigh of Sthusainerationt come on a very awkward mission, message of d | very soon put you out of your trouble for this wicked world.” The Frenchman could not brag as loud as Mole, and 80 he had to lowen his colors. He muttered something about meaning no offence, and beingsure that the brave Mole was as skilful at the pistol gallery as he averred, “Only, sare, I wish to express my admiration of you, ut, I could not find words to make you compre- Mr. Mele interrupted him with a patronising wave of the hand and 4 smile. “That is enough,” monsieur,” he said, superciliously; “only I never allow anybody to call my courage in ques- cane for, sir, I am ready to fight any man that does ot course,” “And my pistols are still at your service if—if you doubt either my narrative or my courage.” “Mr, Mole.” “Hullo!” Mr. Mole and: the Frenchman jumped back, startled half out of their lives. Just behind them was. a large ses chest, and from tue rear of this two figures suddenly rose up. They were Pike and Nabley, the English de- tectives. They had been sitting there to rest themselves and compare notes lien Mole and Mr, Potiron came | P) up. “Mr. Mole.” Goodness gracious, how you startled me!” “Yes, X did not know there was anybody there,” “I wan’t a word with you, if you please,” “With pleasure, Mr. Pike. What is sit, pray?” “Tn private, if possible, Mr, Mole,” “Dear me, yes.” So he stepped aside with the detective. “Ttis a very unpleasant matter I haye come upon, sir,” began the detective, with hesitation, “Nothing wrong, I Pry Mr, Pike?” said Mr, Mole, Pike-was ellent, ole spoeaien to Nabley. But reak the unpleasant in- what ever it was; for he turned aside as well, ce fell to the ground, while he heaved a faint “The fact is, sir,” said Nabley, ‘‘I wouldn’t for one have broached this subject if I hadn’t ha ent. to over- hear a word or two that fell f: mx. you just now.” ‘*Ahem!” said Mr. Mole, a bit uneasily. “Nor would I for another, Mr. Mole.” “Will you speak out?” cried Mr. Mole, goaded on now to fierceness, “Well, then, sir—then—there, Nabley, you tell it; I haven't the heart to.” “The fact is, Mr. mole,” said Nabley, “my friend has He comes with a eg.” “ wt ”» ia anecee * defiance, repeated Nabley. R “Goodness me!” “T thought you would say so,” exclaimed Pike. “‘Who from?” ‘From a fierce apebuins ee or who thinks him- self affronted, and whom ig Ca ye” “Surely not ‘Mr. Jefferson?” said Mole \. | So disguised himself to ayoid Nabley shook his head. “No; the gentleman we mean has beem confined to hig room with a bad cold, but he has now recovered, and te fight any tires’ men on name!” I eed Mole. “Oh!” mt soe le, stag; “ay ote 5 Gaspe r. Mole, staggering again? Why was a Brick born?” 4 “You know him?” “T should think I do.” ““Why, he told me he had never seen you, but that you ~ ulted him,” “He says you did, Well, it appears that he followed Sittele ‘| you on board solely for the sake of fighting you and hav~ ing your life.” ruffian!” “Well, if he doesn’t meet, you soon in mortal com he says e"ll shoot you down anywhere he can see you,’ y, that would be murder,” aot course; but he says he has murdered six men, and you will make the seventh—and he likes odd numbers.” You will not allow him?” “Lo murder you? No.” “Quite right,” said Mr. Mole; “youare sensible men, both of you, and—’ ‘is’ how I propose to obviate “And this,” said Pike, alldanger of murder,” Ah,” said Mr, Mole, eagerly. “let me hear your plan, dear friend.” “You shall fight him.” ‘*What?” shouted poor Mole, ; “Wait a bit, we shall choose pistols, We are the ag- ete : party,” and the choice is with us; we ehoose i “Pistols!” “Yes, revolvers.” 4 “why?” “Can you ask?” “Can I? Of course; damme, sir, I do,” cxied Ma, Mole, working himself up into a perfect fever. “The resson is that you shall get first fire, and wing him, You break his sword arm, you understand?” Mr. Mole felt as though ail his inner machinery had cropped down a foot, ae will suit you to a turn,” said Pike; “he, air?” “But I might not have a steady hand, and miss.” “Not likely.” “No, it is. not; but I might miss my aim and wound him badly. “So pie the worse for him,” Mole winced. +“ ‘Ahem, yes. ” “Now, supposing,” said Pike, “that the Freshen acts for you? Til tell him.” “No, no,” ejaculated Mr, Mole, hurriedly; ‘not him, ; See this dreadful Brick for me, Mr, Pike, and’ say 1 shoud § ~~ prefer our duel to come off when we lane, “He wouldn't believe me; and—hullo! why, here comes — Mr. Brick with pistols and swords. My gracious, Mr. Mole, there'll be murder done,” The tutor shot along the deck like a deer, stumped away to ' berth, = C. Little 1209 Denver Dan to the Rescue; or, The oun- taineer’s Stra 1210 Denver Dan and 1 1211 Denver Dan in Now VOD diate 1212 The 'Pwin Boy Scouts....by Pere, 1213 Prairie Phil; or, The Paaither of { the Platte by Harry Rockwood 1214 Trapper Duke; or, The Female Avenger. ae as. D. Montague 1215 en ant Blue; or, Nick harton on the ihe Harry Rockw 1216 Little ial, the Boy Engineer,....2......... ne by Captain Will Dayton Brovigham ecru 1218 a cemanacs for: the Mi He ae Treasures 1222 2 che om: jor, The tia Ot Dead- ~ Joe Jordan, the Young Reet Ue Muni aataek by H. K. Shackleford . by Kit Clyde 1225 Jack Harkaway’s Schooldays. —. x 1226 Jack Harkaway Afloat. ; man’s Reef .....4....5. an Sea Captain ; Za 4 Lasso Luke; or, The Three pe re, # 1227 Jack Harkaway Among the Savages. ...by ©. Little | 1228 Jack Harkaway’s Escape. - by G. Little | 1229 Jack Harkaway at Oxford, ; -by ©. Little | 1230 Jack Harkaway and the Black Band, ‘ . St. John ee Jack Harkaway and the Brigands. rs gles arkaway and the Spy. 2 ¥ arkaway Trapped, , * iat pie Harkaway and the Italians; or, The Brigand’s Doom. a 1235 Jack’ ee, and His Son’s Adventures, — Round the World. 236 Jack Harkaway and His Son Homoward i" Bound. y rer sale by all newsdealers in the United States and Canada, or sent to your address, post-paid, on receipt of the price, 5 cents was | i FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher 34 & 36 North Moore Street, Ne York. & Bey