Pluck And Luck (no. 87) (1900 01 31)
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STOF ie rr | LO UT Issued Weekly—By Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second Class Matter at the .Neuw York Post Office, by Frank Tousey. NEW YORK, JANUARY 31, 1900. Price 5 Cents. “God have mercy on us!’ cried Van. ‘’Kill him!” screamed the madman, brandishing his knife, ‘You shall not harm him!” answers Harlowe, parrying the man’s thrust and forcing him back.
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These Books Tell You Everythings A COMPLETE SET IS A REGULAR ENCYCLOPEDIA Hach book consists of sixty-four pages, printed on good paper, im clear type und neatly bound im am attraectivé, tnwacanced oovhes ; Most of the books are also: profusely illustrated, and all of the subjects treated upon are explained in such a dimple mammer that any ehild Can thoroughly understand them. mentioned. Look over the list as classified and see if yeu want te kmew anything nbeut the subjects THOSE BOOKS ARE FOR SALE BY ALL NEWSDEALERS OR WILL BE SENT BY MAIL TO ANY ADDRER” FROM THIS OFFICH ON RECEIPT OF PRICH, THN CENTS EACH, OR ANY THREE BOOKS FOR TWENTY-FI SHNTS. POSTAGH STAMPS TAKEN THH:SAME AS MONHY. Address FRANK TOUSDY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, Ny SPORTING. f No. 21. HOW TO\HUNT AND FISH.—The most complete hunting “and fishing guide eyer published. It contains full in- gtructions about guns, hunting dogs, traps, trapping and fishing; together with descriptions of game and fish. No. 26. HOW TO ROW, SALL AND BUILD A BOAT.—Fully fllustrated. Every. boy should know how to row and sail a boat. Full instructions are given in this little book, together with in- gtructions on swimming and riding, companion sports to boating. No. 47. HOW TO BREAK, RIDE, AND DRIVH.A HORSE— 'S complete treatise on the horse. Describing the most useful horses for business, the best horses for the road; also valuable recipes for jdiseases peculiar to the horse. No. 48. HOW TO BUILD AND SAIL CANOEHS.—A handy book for boys, containing full directions for constructing canoes gnd the most popular manuer of sailing them. Fully illustrated. By C. Stansfield Hicks. FORTUNE TELLING. No. 1. NAPOLEON’S ORACULUM AND DREAM BOOK.— @ontaining the great oracle of human destiny; also the true mean- ing of almost any kind of dreams, together with charms, ceremonies, gnd curious games of cards.. A complete book, No. 23. HOW LO EXPLAIN DREAMS.-—Hverybody dreams, from the little child to the aged man and woman. ‘This little book gives the explanation to all kinds of dreams, together with lucky and unlucky days, and ‘‘Napoleon’s Oraculum,” the book of fate. No. 28. HOW TO TELL FORTUNES.—-Everyone is desirous of knowing what his future life will bring forth, whether happiness or misery, wealth or poverty. You can tell by a glance at this little ook. Buy one and be convinced. ‘ell your own fortune. Tell the fortune of your friends: + No. 76. HOW TO TELL FORTUNES BY THY HAND.— ®ontaining rules for telling forttmes by the aid of the lines of the and, or the secret of palmistry. Also the secret of telling ruture avents by aid of moles, marks, scars, etc. Illustrated. By A. Anderson. ih: ATHLETIC. No. 6. HOW TO BHCOMH AN ATHEDTE.—Giving full in- jatruction for the use of dumb bells, Indian clubs, parallel bars, horizontal bars and various other methods of developing a good, healthy muscle; containing over sixty illustrations. Wvyery boy can become strong and healthy by following the instructions contained fn this little book. No. 10. HOW TO BOX.—The art. of self-defense made easy. @ontaining over thirty illustrations of guards, blows, and the differ- ent positions of a good boxer. Wvery boy should obtain one of these useful and instructive books, as it will teach you how to box without an instructor. Wo. 25. HOW TO BECOME A GYMNAST. t Dnstructions for all kinds of gymnastic sports and athleti Wmbracing thirty-five illustrations. By Professor W. A handy and useful book. No. 34. HOW TO FENCE— Containing full instruction for fencing and the use of the broadsword ; also instruction in archery. Deserben with twenty-one practical illustratiom® giving the best positions in fencing. A complete book. No. 61. HOW TO BECOME A BOWLER.—A complete manual ef bowling. Containing full instructions for playing all the stand- ard American and German games; together with rules and systems ef sporting in use by the principal bowling clubs in the United tates. By Bartholomew Batterson. TRICKS WITH CARDS. No. 51. HOW TO DO TRICKS WITH CARDS.—Containing éxplanations of the general principles of sleight-of-hand applicable to card tricks; of card tricks with ordinary cards, and not requiring mleight-of-hand; of tricks involving sleight-of-hand, or the use of fally prepared carts. By Professor Haffner. With illustra- Nc. 72, HOW TO DO SIXTY TRICKS WITH CARDS.—Bm- bracing all of ge ieee and most deceptive card tricks, with i]- 7 . An \ sate OW TO DO FORTY TRIOKS WITH CARDS — taining deceptive Oard Tricks as performed by leading conjurers pera Mies Oh eanged for home amusement. Fully illustrated. / ( —Containing full @ exercises, Macdonald. ‘Continued vs page 3 of cover.) oD bay : Y » or Meee 7, 9 i ry MAGIC, ; No. 2. HOW TO DO TRICKS.—The great book of magie eard tricks, containing full instruction of all the leading ie] t of the day, also the most popular magical illusions as perform our leading magicians; every boy should obtain a copy of this bt as it will both amuse and instruct. No, 22. HOW LO DO SECOND SIGHT.—Heller’s second sight explaimed by his former assistant, Fred Hunt, Jr. Explaining how ae the secret dialogues were carried on between the magician and fe. : boy on the stage; also giving all the codes and signals. ‘The only authentic explanation of second sight. No. 43. HOW TO BECOME A MAGICIAN.—Containing the grandest assortment of magical illusions ever placed before thd public. ; Also tricks with cards, incantations, ete. No. 68. HOW TO DO CHEMICAL TRICKS.—Containing overt one hundred highly amusing and instructive tricks: with chemical By A. Anderson. Handsomely illustrated, _ No. 69, HOW TO DO SLHIGHT OF HAND.—Containing oyet fifty of the latest and best tricks used by magicians. Also contaim- ing the secret of second sight. Hully illustrated. A. Anderson. ms es Nea eee fees POT Ona are full irectiong for making Magic Toys and devices of man i i A. Anderson. Fully iiuatrased? an ee : No. 78. HOW TO DO TRICKS WITH NUMBHERS.—Showing 3 many curious tricks with figures and the magic of numbers. By Ae Re? Anderson. Bully illustrated. eS: No. 75. HOW TO BECOME A_ CONJURER.—Containg® tricks with Demixees. Dice. Cups and Balls, Hats, ete. HEmbradgatige thirty-six illustrations. By A; Anderson. No. 78. HOW TO DO THE BLACK ART.—Containing a come plete description of the mysteries of Magic and Sleight of Hang? together with many wonderful experiments, By A, Anderson INustrated. MECHANICAL. ; No. 57, HOW TO directions how to make a Banjo, Violin, Zither, Aeolian Harp, Xy phone and other musical instruments; together with a brief scription of nearly every musical instrument used in ancient modern times. Profusely illustrated, By Algernon §S. Fitzgera for twenty years bandmaster of the Royal Bengal Marines. Be Be No. 59. HOW TO MAKE A MAGIC LANTERN.—Containingia:9 a description of the lantern, together with its history and inventiony; * Also full directions for its use and for painting slides. Handsomelyy, illustrated, by John Allen. = By No. 71. HOW TO DO MECHANICAL TRICKS.—Containinger? complete instructions for performing over sixty Mechanical Trickah) By A. Anderson. Fully illustrated. ; LETTER WRITING. ie No. 11. HOW. TO WRITH LOVE-LETTERS.—A most come) plete little book, containing full directions for writing loye-letterss |) ne ee to use them; also giving specimen letters for both young. as and old, fey No. 12. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS TO LADIPS—Giving | complete instructions for writing letters to ladies on all subjectes)” also letters of introduction, notes and requests, he Pm No. 24. HOW TO WRITD LETTERS TO GENTLEMEN. 08 Containing full directions for writing to gentlemen on all sub, Hy a also giving sample letters for instruction. >| ae No. 58.. HOW ‘TO WRITH, LETTHERS.—A wonderful litte” book, telling you how to write to your sweetheart, ‘your fathemal mother, sister, brother, employer; and, in fact, every and any. body you wish to write to. Bvery young man and every youn lady in the land should have this book. } No. 74. HOW TO WRITH LETTHRS CORRECTLY,—c taining full instructions for writing letters on almost any sub ble, rules for punctuation and composition; together with letters, ;
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Issued Weekly—. ay Seneca $2.50 per year. / November 1898. 12 * Of Congress, Washington, D. C., LUCK AND LUCK. Complete Stories of Adventure. Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York, N. Enteiéd according to Act of Congress, in the year 1900, in the office of the Rieeurene by Frank Tousey, 24 Union Square, New EO: , Post Office, ea sal NEW YORK, Jeuibcy 31. 1900. Price 5 Cents. CHAPTER I, ; * , THE PLOT. ell, Van, my boy, we start for home to-day.” ¢s, father, and I am glad of it.” ‘Do you know, old fellow, I wish this voyage was well over! eel neasy about it.” ‘Bec use you have so much money and’ such valuable prop- ty with you?” rCNOt that altogether, but I fear we may never reach land.” aA ys father, the Adriatic’is the stanchest steamer on the ne. She is new and makes the best time of any between here 4 ie” E : a are afraid of the Adriatic, we can wait for another _ The Oceanic goes in ten days.” - 0, “Van; as far as steamers go, I would rather take this but I feel uneasy, never theless. However, it will wear off, yresume.”’ t is so long since we left our home that I am dying to see se more. Uncle Jack must quite miss me by this time.” “Oh, yes, beyond a doubt.” “You say it as if you did not think so, father.” Il, you, were quite’a boy when we left home, and your ck is so busy that I don’t suppose he thinks of any- ut making money.” wo. speakers, father and son, had spent, some years in ony, Africa, and the elder had acauired a considera- ne in the diamond fields, which he was now taking vere to sail from Cape Town to England, and from would cross over to America, where Mr, Van Clief rer brother, the Uncle Jack whom the young man alled Van invariably by his father, whose Ww a8 & boy of about seventeen, and an only orite wherev he went. ; ifish, money: ‘rightly wher fs BY CAPT. THOS. H. WILSON. j/and nephew, he was probably RASS, them at that moment at the best way is by clock-work, as before.’ handsome, ¢ ai tive, ‘intelligent, fairly, idolized by his which the reckless and willful extravagance of the yotnses had sadly crippled. ‘Pierce had heard from his brother only at rare intervals since his departure from America, ten years previous ‘to h opening of our story, and from his last letter he inferred tha Jack had at last settled down and was making money. From what he heard indirectly he inferred that the fo spendthrift was now a selfish, hard-fisted miser, from whom it would be as hard to wring a dollar as it would be to get blood from a stone, and that instead of being glad to see his brothe the bottom of the sea. If: the élder Van. Clief had. known the real feeling of is brother, or had suspécted the existence of a plot then 0 he might well have hesitated about taking passage up Adriatic. ni ; If the black flag of death had been hoisted from the ‘pe instead of the British colors, it would have been far more propriate, for the Adriatic was a doomed vessel, and but of the goodly number who took passage upon ae were te to reach their homes. In a little shipping office upon toh wharf, ick a feet from where the tender lay moored, previous to ma’ final trip to the Adriatic, which lay just outside the harbo sat 2 villainous-looking man making out bills of lading. “This'll be the luckiest stroke I ever made,” he said when it is over, I can settle down and do no- more work.’ He finished the particular job he had on hand, “an took a letter, soiled and crumpled, from an st pock spread it out before him. This letter told a tale of desperate villainy, atid was as fol lows: cy in the Pireantion ‘of your own business to prev from coming home, do so by all means. date, probably in the Adriatic, as she is new, scruples about intrusting his life on any “pat he b “You know best how to arrange these roils b ra al oa surance are low now, and the profits, owhen a ticularly large. - “T think you can ship an’ onds on this ° 1
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Ph start ; ghee WHsA RS) sDN THE GRASSY SHA. that your precious ubeaaa are with them, I will pay you extra, besides your commission, as soon as the proper time comes. “You probably understand me, and know that I always do ro as [say. Thanking you for’ keeping me posted, and trusting that you will do your best in this matter, | remain, i “Yours to command, Biers “JOHN VAN Ci « Ler,” That there was some hidden meaning.to these words was clearly apparent, and the crafty little shipping agent soon gave the clew to them. “Aha!” he muttered, as he carefully folded the letter and put it back in his pocket. “He knows how to write letters.” Then he chuckled, and continued to himself: ‘Manage it by clock-work! That’s good, very good, He means the infernal machine, made by that villain Goldschmidt. Ha, ha! it’s:a beauty.” and found it work to a charm, and upon the exact moment at which it was set. He had tried it upon a heavy plank, which its sharp knife had split in two with tremendous force the moment the time indicated upon the small burnished dial had approached. “There it is now,” he muttered, “‘sleeping as innocently in the middle of a ‘bale of wool, with. a hundred pounds of nitro- giycerine under it, as if it couldn’t blow the whole business to atoms in a twinkling.” Then he rubbed his hands, glanced over his ledger, smiling diabolically, said: “lve got a big consignment of wool this time, and there isn’t as much difference between the bales as there is between twins. You can’t tell ’em apart. True, they are all in the hole, snug and tight. I saw them put there myself.” After a few moments he went out, and just then Van Clief and his son came along and walked up the gang plank to go Gi aboard the tug. yu) “Who is that, father?” asked Van, ‘man. ( “That's old Cheatham. He’s one of the biggest shippers of wool around here. He’s got no end of bales, and [ bélieve he’s sending a lot of diamonds, too, but I'don’t fancy them + qauch, nor’ him either.” ? f “Palk away, my man, talk away,” muttered the raseally little agent. “You won’t think much of anything two weeks from now. Haj ha! Jack Van Clief will come in for a good thing when you are gone, and you don’t know anything about it.” As he turned away he saw a pleasant-looking man of about thirty just stepping upon the gang plank, the sight of whom ~ eaused him a thrill of astonishment. \ “Harry Harlowe here?’ he muttered. “I thought he was down in the Boer country farming it. What the mischief is he ' doing here, I wonder?” _ -As the man stepped upon the tug the captain of the Adriatic ‘appeared upon deck, and said warmly: : “Ah,. Mr. Harlowe, £ was looking -for you. We shall att ~ soon’ now, and it wouldn’t do to go without my first officer, you Hao TNO WY \ “First, officer, eh?” muttered Cheatham. “Aha, I remember, ri the other fellow resigned at my suggestion. Very well, Mr. Harlowe, you will go down, too, and our old account will be settled.” and, catching sight of the CHAPTER II. THE LETTER. ‘ “Tt see that rascally old Cheatham is still alive,” said Har- _ lowe, as he and the captain went into the cabin. “It’s a won- ' | der that such fellows are permitted 'to live.” “Oh, he is harmless enough,’ answered the captain. “He’s gota good deal of freight aboard this trip, and a lot of dia- * monds.” . “Worthless, I'l] bet a guinea,” “Oh, they ain’t his; he is merely shipping them for an- ‘other pariy, and gets ‘a commission on them.” "Talking of diamonds makes me think of a trick I*fooled ¥ ‘him out of once. I blew the business, and he lost his insur- ‘anee! They were good for nothing, and of course he ‘got pothing.” “But if he had paid his premiums, and the goods were jost——” “On, but they weren’t. I was agent, and I just left those bogus: fellows out, and when the ship was lost, old Cheatham ‘dlaimed his insurance, but as they weren’t lost, too, of course couldn't get it.” t ad he ship ’em on the next steamer?” ree gues to, in ae not to let himself out, ae she | u ; | he has or not. 4 Well he knew its powers, for he had experimented with it a lot of stuff not worth five shillings. for it.” “How did you happen to leave the Boer country?” “Well, [ got tired of it, and wanted, to go to sea again. “1 heard, too, of the good fortune of a countryman of mine, an American, and I wanted +0 tell him about it.” “What was it?” “Why, a friend of mine, a lawyer in New York, wrote to me, among other matters, that an uncle of this ir iend of mine had { died within the year, leaving a large fortune.’ i “Was he the heir?” “Yes, but there’s a brother who claims it. in the cold, gets it,’ “Even. if the other has heirs?” ; “Well, no, I suppose not; but I really don’t know whether t’s some time since [ saw Van Clief, and I He’s never forgiven me He was left out provided my friend was dead, but otherwise he don’t remember whether his boy——”’ ay “Did you say Van Clief?” “Yes, He made a pile in the diamond fields. I lost track of him, though, and I’m afraid, after all, he may have gone further away. I was in hopes of catching him in Cape Town, but I can’t hear anything about him.” “Then you haven’t inquired very anxiously, Mr. Harlowe, for the man and his son are going in the Adriatic, and are now aboard the tug.” Bi “Why, this is news indeed... Well, you know sinee I en- gaged to gO with you, that I have had my hands full, and haven’t had:time to run around much.” “T know you haven’t.’’ Harlowe found Van Clief, and was welcomed by the latter most cordially, as he and Harlowe were warm friends, al- though there was some difference in their ages. “T’ve got news for you, Van Clief,”’ said Harlowe, “and lam glad you are going in this vessel,’ and then he told Van Clief what he had heard.” “Ha, I’m afraid your Uncle Jaek will be even less glad to see you, Van, than I thought,” said the man, sadly. ‘He will il) brook your cutting him out of a fortune, This is news, in-- deed; but I wonder why he has not communicated it to me, How long have you known it?” ; “About two months. I tried to find you, but couldn’t.” [ _ “Well, this is unexpected, and it comes when [I have a for- )) tune of my own. ‘One always has too little or too much. There seems to be no middle ground.” “Well, | wish you joy of it, old friend, and Van, too. Whats a fine boy he has got to-be. I am glad you are going on the same ship, with me, my lad,’ he continued, addressing Van, 7% “for ll tell you lots of things you never heard of.” yi “Aha, Harry, up to your old tricks. You ought to be married yourself. My poor wife always liked you as a boy, because you were so good to children, and to Van especially.” “But that was when he was 4 little fellow.” “You'll be all the better now that he’s a big: fellow, know. ia ash aboard! All aboard! Time’s up!” was the warning shout. f A. few moments later the tug steamed away, and old Cheat- ham watched the men getting up the anchor on board the _ Adriatic, saw the last passenger transferred, heard the signal- gun, and stood watching until she spread her white wings, and saw the black smoke pouring out of her pipes. "i “They're off,” he said, with a grin. “There goes a fortune to: 4] me and another to Jack Van Clief, and if Harry Harlowe tells — ie anything, much good may it do him.” i Away went the Adriatic with an engine of death in her hold, strong, brave hearts in her crew and a good captain at the helm, while the fiendish little rascal on the wharf ane and*) showed his satisfaction. “The plot works well,” he muttered, as he went back to the little office; “and now to destroy that tell-tale letter. , Some one might guess what it meant, despite its careful wording,” He expected that he was going to draw it directly ‘out of his pocket, but to his horror it was not there, nor in any other pocket, nor in the lining of his coat, nor anywhere about. “Could I have dropped it?” he muttered. “Tt isn’t onthe floor, and no’ one has been in here since-I went out. It would. never do to have it found by any of my enemies.’ Hi It was not to be found on the floor, however, and then the old fellow went out upon the wharf to see if he had dropped it, He thought he might possibly have slipped it into his vest instead of in his pocket, and that when he was walking about it had dropped down; and’ to’ make sure first he hunted all over his clothing, but without success... if Then he looked wp and down on the pier, but without fitiding the important document, and in a state of great excitement he returned to his office and began hunting onlee more, with the same result as before. f oF rottidatt haye lost that | hundred. It's Incky “Confound it all,” he muttered. letter FOr Aift , pounds; no, nor for a
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FIVE. YEARS IN i is ee SEA. was so carefully written, though, for if it hadn’t been, I should be in a nice fix. However, there’s no use fretting, and so I’ll think no more about it.” Phe fatal paper was to play an important part, however, in ¢ his future destiny, and it would have been better if he had not lost it; but as it was, there was no recovering it now, and the ouly thing to be done was to make the best of a bad bargain, / Sand say no more about it. } Had the wily little wretch seen a certain shabby*looking pas- séenger pick up a folded piece of paper: which was fluttering * about on the stone pier and put it in his pocket, before going , aboard the tender, he would have wished more heartily than ever that the destruction of the Adriatic would be more com- plete than ever he had anticipated. He did not know that that curiously-worded letter was now aboard the doomed steamer, and that a sinister-looking pas- Senger had it tucked away in his pocket, and that though its Teal meaning was not apparent, that the day would come when it would be as plain as the daylight. True, the opening sentence was the only one that afforded any clew whatever, but small as that was, it was a dangerous \ weapon in the hands of an unscrupulous man like Matt Mer- ton, the pasSenger in question. . Merton was returning to England like the others, and there were many who would have been glad to detain him, for his ‘record was not a clean one, and he was suspected of robbing | *more than one poor fellow who had risked -his life and health in the diamond fields. ° He shipped on the Adriatic undér an assumed name and at the last-moment, so that there might be no chance of the colonial police getting witld of his intentions and stopping him, and he had therefore escaped this danger only to’meet.a » worse. He kept secluded until the last speck of land had disap- peared, and even then he did not mix much with the rest, but remained alone by himself nearly all the time. He had not read the paper yet, but he had made @ habit of | always picking up stray bits like that, for luck sometimes “eomes from so doing, and there would be time enough to read it before he landed in Mngland, provided he ever did land. * Away and away sped the Adriatic, further from land, nearer | to her doom; and, all unconscious, the passengers were looking | ‘anxiously for the time when they should see their country once | more, and be happy in the recognition of-old friends and old | scenes, and their weary wanderings would be over. Van made friends with nearly everybody on board, and of _» course Harry Harlowe was the best of all, for he told the lad} >’ Many an interesting fact about the ocean, and. was as full of} ‘jokes and fun as he could hold. The lad made advances to the silent passenger, Matt. Merton, _ but the latter had very litélé to say, and Van soon gave up the | ‘attempt, devoting all his attention to his father and the first Officer, whenever Harlowe was at liberty. The days passed by, and one night Merton read the lettér | he had found, being strangely agitated by it. “These two must be the same,” he thought, “I have heard | the boy talk of his Uncle Jack, and this man, too, is returning! »-to inherit a fortune. There is mischief in this letter; but What it is I don’t know. My God! the clock of Goldschmidt! I know the villain. Why didn’t I read this thing before? | “There is an infernal machine aboard!” "A CHAPTER III. THE WRECK. » “T see it all now,” gasped Merton. “I know Sigmund Gold- ‘schmidt, the clock-maker, well, and the devilish ingenuity he possesses. All is clear to me now. Good Heavens! {et me i read this diabolical letter again.” _ #He read it over once more with feverish anxiety, and then exclaimed, as he ase up and down the narrow extent-of his ~ » state-room: “Induce them to go “on the Adriatic—prevent them from - reaching home—manage the thing by clock-work, as before Great God! It is only too plain.” ' He smote his forehead with his hands, and then whispered: “Send his precious goods with the clock, ‘That means dia- wonds, and this is the man who was charged by Harlowe with suring worthless stuff.’ They were to g0 on the Atlantic, but “was lost. I know Cheatham. He is a villain and—worse that—a. contemptible sneak. It was he that nearly had ered by the police. Curse him! he is as bad as I am Worse, for I could not commit wholesale murder like sa im | lowe’s direction. ‘k pamper a whole shin’ s company for gold! Why, oh, why didn’t I read this before? Stop, there may yet be time.” He glanced over the letter again, and then turned deadly pale. “Bifteen days!’’ he gashed. ‘Oh, the foolish neglect, the criminal forgetfulness [ have been guilty of! Fifteen days! My. God, this is the fifteenth day Seip , Pray Heaven I-may. not be too late.” Though a bad man, and one who fia not shrunk from the committal of many crimes, Matt Merton was horrified at this new eyidence of man’s depravity, and his very soul revolted at the awful thought of sacrificing so many lives in this. fearful manner for the mere love of gain. He was bad, but this was fiendish, and even his base mind was horrified at the enormity of such a deed. “There may yet be time,” he murmured captain at conee.” Van was sitting in the moonlight talking to Harlowe, his father being at some little distance, and the passengers sc¢at- tered about the deck at the time that this conflict of emotion. was taking place in the breast of the silent passenger. “What a lovely night,” he said to Harlowe. “One would never suppose that a storm had ever ruffled these waters; they look so tranquil.” “I will see the “And yet I have seen them anything but that,”. answered | Harlowe. ‘“‘We’re going finely now'in this current, and it’s as good as.a2, fair wind. Not many more days and nishss Van, will pass before we’ll be in England.’ “JT shall be glad, for father worries a good deal. not say much, but I know he fears some calamity.” “But the Adriatic is stanch.’ There’s no fear of——’ “There’s Martin,” said Van, that being the name by which Merton was known. “How excited he looks: What is he saying?” “He’s inquiring for one of the officers. | he wants. “My God, Mr. Harlowe!”.cried Merton. we are lost!” “What do you mean?” “That there is’ an in Boom! “Too late, too late!” gasped the man, , and dig fell’ uneon- | scious to the deck. “What has happened?” cried Van, hurrying up. “TJ don’t know, something has exploded. Call all hands there, boatswain. Rouse the captain, steward.” “We are on fire!”’ shrieked a voice. ‘We are sinking!” “To the boats!” He does , I’ll go and see what ” At this moment the captain rushed on deck without his hat, and in-a state of the utmost excitement. “Man the boats at once!” he cried. women and children enter first,” ; A scene of the wildest excitement followed, and one ‘which | entirely beggars. description, the hubbub being frightful and ;the danger most imminent. ; ‘ The deck was forced apart and finmnes rushed up: in erent jets, billows of scalding steam ‘rolled over the. scene, clouds of “Let none but the’ thick, stifling smoke hung over all like a funeral pall, and like: a frightened animal the steamer shivered and groaned; rocked and pitched, and seemed ready at any moment to plunge into the sea. fhe flames seemed to burst out in every part of the ship at once, and many perished from jsheer fright at the outset, others madly leaping overboard, with no thought of what they’ while some: stood motionless and without the were doing, power to stir hand or foot for their safety. It was a scene of the utmost terror, but in the midst of it all, Van worked indefatigably, helping Harlowe to get the ter- rified women and children into the boats, and encouraging his - | poor father, who seemed utterly helpless and despondent. Matt Merton lay unconscious for some minutes, and then Van dragged him away, the flames having burst up through the deck not three feet from where he lay. The captain went off in one of the boats, and the second — mate in another, Harlowe remaining behind, to COnStIUGE in raft... ‘ Some of the boats had been annihilated in the first eduloston and. what remained were not sufficient to bear all the sur vivors, and with a rare forgetfulness of self, Harlowe seized an’ axand plied it most vigorousiy in cutting the timbers neces- sary for the construction of a support on which to intrust their lives oyer the ocean. Van helped, and soon afterward Merton fell to and rendered. ; valuable assistance, half a dozen sailors, comprising the re- mainder of those left. Sean ee good Rig peader ‘Hai “Call the captain, or. >
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FIVE. YB ARS IN THE GRASSY SEA v dling down, the waves threatening: to complete the work begun by the flames. The fear of death incited every man to do his utmost, and in a marvelously short time a comparatively stout raft of con- ‘siderable size was launched, supplied with water, provisions, a mast and sail, chests and blankets, and other. necessities, a ‘hastily gathered up, and then as the flames grew brighter and the pale moon was obgcured by the heavy masses of smoke, the Survivors pushed off and confided their lives to the keeping of the treacherous ocean. CHAPTER IV. THE RAFT. - ' Day succeeded day, night followed night, and still the vic- ‘tims of man’s passion and greed floated upon the ocean help- less and alone. . One by one the sailors died or became mad and leaped into _ the treacherous deep, which closed over them, and Jeft no trace to show where or how they had perished. One by one they dropped off, and the same fate seemed 5 staring them all in the face—seemed reaching out its gaunt -. and bony fingers to clutch them in its grasp. Day after day, each more monotonous than its fellow, passed _ by, and still no hope, still no signs of a rescue, no welcome sight of a sail, however distant. Frenzied and hopeless, tortured with maddening doubts and ears, the sailors perished and were consigned to the ocean, till at last: all that remained on the raft were four. persons. : an Clief seemed hardly alive, for he would lie hour by r bia upon his back, and never ‘move or speak, and it was ‘Nth tostiving heat of the day and the Cee, air of the night acs =the lack of food, the scarcity of Water—all these having told terri ae eee, him, despite his braye heart and strong consti- ity tae days had passed since the explosion, and now ay food had given out, the water was all but exhausted and b rospect seemed even more hopeless than hefoxe. mt rlowe had watched over the lad with the tenderest of care, and ad frequently denied himself that Van might not suffer; A “now all peered to be in vain, and the end but a little fur- on Mas revealed his knowledge of the plot against their nd how it had been acquired, and had sworn solemnly he were permitted to live he would bring to justice ins who had planned and executed this most diabolical @ four men were ali that remained of the crew of the twenty-five days of agonizing, hopeless, tormenting ays of terror, nights of pain, weeks of bitter disap- ef had saved a belt, containing his. diamonds, but mce seemed a mockery, for what was all this wealth hey were starving, dying of thirst and exposure? | slept much during this last night, and it was a he did, for the water was all but exhausted, and had ake he. would have called for water unceasingly. | ws mad with apprehension, not for himself, but for yhom he was greatly attached, and whom he could aw les bang and yet whom he could afford but little : gaurttis, and seemed like a wild beast, his sd hair hanging over his forehead into his eyes, gmenti 8 the fierce look which now coustautly rested ) ince serosa his jaentity. and was now called 3 own name, but as there seemed little chance of his scaping, it did not matter much whether he was known ony eo , Fe Chief had slept a ee ad deal, but now toward morning he F d-calle at hie. to ‘Harlowe to come to him, Fai side in a moment, and, taking his | taco and felt a choking sensation in his pproaching seen in: the this horrible thing, let him keep his money. It is ae and can never a him good. 2 Your diamonds are a fortune in thems suiren? “No, no, Harlowe, I am dying. Promise me that you W : look after my poor boy as long as he lives,, and if you are saved | ise to watch over him as if he were your own,’ “Throw him overboard,’ said Merton. have a dead man aboard.” “You brute,” answered Harlowe. “T’ll kill you, too, ifyou provoke me,” “Tt’s ‘unlucky is eried the other, leap- “a Harlowe leaped up and drew his own knife as the m rushed upon him, and Van, disturbed by the noise, awoke and ; called for a drink, complaining bitterly of thirst. ; “Throw him overboard!” hissed Merton. “We. can’t have any brats here. There isn’t enough for us as itis.” - — , Van sprang forward and leaned over the wasted form of his poor father, calling upon him to answer him most piteously. The man would never speak again, for in that last mom nt he had passed beyond the land of pain and suffering and was at E rest. “God have mercy on us,’ raising his hands in prayer. “Kill him!” screamed the madman, brandishing his ini a “You shall not harm him,” answered Harlowe, parrying t man’s thrust and forcing him baci at the point of his ic) keen knife. * cried Van, falling on his een! and tecting him at the risk of his own life, ee Sut this petit ‘a “Father of all, look down.and protect a poor boy, confide Thy care. Spare my life and those of my companions. 8 da help to us, and end our sufferings. “Bless us all, and——" a : “You hear?” said Harlowe. “He prays for you,’ would kill him.” \ ; “Oh, God, send a sail!” cried Van, in agony. “Amen,” added SO ne revealed a sight which fairly haan Harlowe’ s ele , Van darted a quick glance at the horizon, and then to his feet, threw up his hands and fairly shrieked: “Thank God! A sail, a sail!” CHAPTER V.- THE TYRANT , “Wide-awake there, you lubbers! Don’t be all’ night! Tumble up there, or r ll jump down your thundering anna Are man as ever trod a quarter-deck. . ¥ et With-him, as has been said of others, it was a wand “an blow, but generally the blow first, for he had an ungover temper, and was as strong as an ox in the bargain. It was at the ‘beginning of the first night-watch, and as wor ds above quoted, shouting them down the forecastle in a manner that made them doubly impressive. The first man that tumbled up, according to the | elegant wording, tumbled down again rather more quick he was ready for, the captain’s brawny fist taking him o side of the head and felling him to the deck in an ins The next man dodged the intended blow, and seurr a twinkling to relieve the man at the wheel, but the thir slight fellow, scarcely more than a boy, received a plow on temple that literally knocked him aousnleye at eid are ; “Shame!”’ cried a voice. “What's that?’ cried the skipper, “with an “onithh wheeled quickly around in the direction of the voice. This gave the others belowa. chance to scramble out of reach of their tyrant, for when he turned als | were all on deck and in their places. “Who spoke, I say?” demanded the captain. agai’ of thunder. “By the furies, I'll find it out if I every man aboard the ship!” No one spoke, and the skipper, glaring around w as biack.2 as a Uae od said: ; my
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ne oY au : if “ wile K ; ( r ‘ G oF * Su ss FIVE YEARS IN THE GRASSY SEA. aia a t “What's that to you?” growled the other. “Vll do what 1 like on my own ship with ue own crew. They’re a lot of lazy dogs.’ i “No, you can’t, skipper,” said the man who had interposed, - and who was now bathing the boy’s pale forehead with a wet handkerchief. ‘They is sech a thing as murder on the high seas, and the laws don’t deal temperately with them as does it. ed 4 “Shut up! Don’t give me any of your lecttires, Mr. Siush, for I won’t stand them.. Take the lubber out of the way.” “TI reckon ye’ve done fur him this time, skipper. Them knuckles o’ yours ain’t as soft as a feather piller, and the boy’s head is still a-bleedin’. Ye ought to be more temperate, I tell “Was it you that cried ‘Shame!’ you greasy lubber?” “Ye kin settle on it that it wur, skipper, and I sticks to it. It wur a shame, and you know it. a “By thunder! Do you dare to talk to me like that, you in- fernal bald-headed rat. Take ¢hat!” - That was a blow on thé head, but the sturdy tar did not take} it, being too quick for the irate captain, and parrying the blow “neatly with an upward str oke of his left arm. “T7711 settle you by and by,” he growled. “As for the rest of |” ~ you"—turning to the men whose watch below it was—‘you ; can turn in, since I have found out who was fool enough to dispute my, word. Turn in with you, and if you ain’t up sharp ‘at eight bells you can know what to expect.” The men went below, and then the captain turned to vent his ies wrath upon, the cook, who, by virtue of his office, was derisively ermed My. Slush by the captain, but the cook was out of ight. : vehe boy whom the skipper had struck was standing in the “waist, having recovered from his faint, though still quite weak, -‘ and on him the tyrannical captain vented his spite. ‘Here, you lubber,” he shouted, coupling the epithet with an ath, “go aloft and take in The main- royal. Lively, now, or ‘11 jump on you.” The youth obeyed, but his. iembine limbs and ‘weak grasp totally unfitted him for the work; and he had hardly reached he topmast cross-trees before a sudden lurch of the vessel mised him to lose his hold, and he shot through the air with reat rapidity. He fell, with a sickening thud upon the deck, and lay as still as death; but the brutal skipper strode up to him and gave him h. p kick in ‘the side. ny up!” ‘he roared; but the boy lay still and silent, and x moved; and the captain, leaving him there, went into : bin, giving orders to the second mate to call him if any ortant change in the weather took place, hen he had disappeared, the cook, whose name was Chipps, ‘ma who was an oddity in his way, came out of the galley and took the boy below, laid him in his bunk and administered to waits. | y NET did not stay long, for He heard the angry voice of the swearing ae blaspheming, and he hurriedly returned a kine arter that poor boy, skipper. He’s more badly than he was afore. Reckon he’s got his clearance pa- D ther world this time, sure.” i Serve him right, the lazy dog. He’s been of no use to me Since he came aboard.” Ww you're gettin’ intemperate ag’ in, skipper. Yer ought be more mod’rate. Temperance is a great virtue, and the e@ we practice it the better we are.” ‘Shut up with your lectures, and come down into the cabin have a glass of grog.” ‘Thank’ee, skipper, I don’t care if I do, for while I don’t lieve in intemperance, I consider moderation a PB HY good F you. old sot. You know you like a good lah horn as well as I do myself. 0) Wi North, of the Snowflake, was a sordid, brutal, hard- nnical man, and the scenes Which I have just de- similar ones, were of daily occurrence, sometimes, three or four times in twenty-four, hours. id muscular, and fairly cowed the men un- foe his savage brutality and rigid enforce- ra. wn for a singlé look, and for al xtra EP at the sad besides mak- ee mintelt he made for the better} ’ he paid good wages, made comparatively short voyages an gave large advances. He was shrewd enough to do this, and to treat his men well on shore, but once let him get into blue water and all the: devil in his nature came out, utterly Cee all that had i yaa seemed pleasant before. Having introduced this person to our readersvand he is happily a type which is nearly extinct—we will go on to the interview in the cabin between him and ase cook. \ A ' CHAPTER VI. ? THE MURDER. / . A “You infernal old sea-horse, I’ve a mind to poison your grog,” were the first words the captain uttered when the two, worthies were alone and sitting, opposite each other in the me little cabin. : “Ye dassen’t, LG wouldn’t be 7 healthy.” “Tf you didn’t know what you do, you wouldn’ t talk to me. so, you lubber, but, blast your eyes, I’m in your power, and y know it. ‘What in the name of the infernal did. you want O- say anything about murder for?” ‘ “Ye don’t: like to hear that “ere intemperate word, do ‘ye, skipper? I’m afraid that lad won*t last through the night.” ap “T didn’t kill him, blame you,” cried the captain, in a startle voice. “You can’t say I did that job, at any rate, no mat ter——” ‘What I kin say about the other ones? Waal, I don’t inow, skipper, the law: isn’t at all mod’ rate on some subjicks, and 1 skipper,” said Roel and that ye would be incercerated for a period not less » ; four years, amd not excéed——” miaae up with water, Kee gazing ieee at the ardent. erage. “You ain’t got some sugar, are you, skipper?” Regeaved “Help yourself,’“and North pushed the bowl toward his — companion, who stirred in a large handful. - ; : ; “You must be careful about your language, dr. sides,” continued the skipper. “You'll be ‘haying th mutiny if you don’t look out. You’ve got me where you me, here in the cabin, but you must be careful on, deck. uth what might happen é “Vm thinkin’, skipper, and if you don’t be more. circum: spect, as I might say, I won’t be able to keep the men’s han offn yer throat. A word from me would——’. ; “Have you cane that last jug of rum I let you have?: BP, ie as well.” “Now, Skipper, you know I am mod’rate and don’ t. pelle enh intemperance. Let me tell you, I ain’t. goin’ to endure an} hee more tyranny on your part. You hey been goin’ it wuss this v’y’ge than ever I see ye afore, and Dick Hansen, the has “sharpened up his sheath knife till the p’int and aidg keen as a razor. ‘ ) ov skipper, and : “Here's your health, Onipoe old boy,” and the ‘captai J his glass and winked, the cook foun suit and d ining tumbler to the very bottom. Pal He was in such a mellow state: by ‘that time. that os North sed no trouble in coaxing him to drink Belk t ernie he sat in his chair like a log, with ‘his head. table, and snoring like a steam engine, the cap over and took his knife out of his belt, We examined it carefully, and seeing © cook's upon the handle, smiled grimly, and thet wen out deck wrapped in an oilskin coat worn by weather was bad. He might have been gone 1 he returned witha look of intense satisfaction on i going into .the cabin where the drunken iter) laughed softly. Pla “You fool!” he muttered, “T could kil I have a better: revenge in whether y to) ) hereafter. the
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FIVE) YEARS «IN pAbishy, GRASSY SEA. a ‘“That was a bad business of yours last night, cook. Why _ did you do it?” “The fellow wasn’t on’y a boy, and the skipper didn’t ought _ | to.abuse him so. How is he this morning?” / >. “Dead. That wasn’t what I meant, though, and you know : it, Tam ‘talking of Dirk Hansen.” “What of him, Mr. Norris?” - ~ *Do you ask me that—you, whose knife was fotnd sticking in his heart this morning?’ »“What?” cried the cook, fairly leaping from his seat, “Dirk “Hansen found dead with my knife “Driven to the shaft in his heart as he lay in his bunk. The men ‘on deck saw you go down into the forecastle during the “middle watch. They recognized you by your coat.” “But TI ain’t had——” “We found it in your room just now, and the sleeves were stained with blood. You will not deny that you slept there ast night.’ t “T dunno. going to bed.” “Captain North says! you turned'in at ten ‘o’clock.” “But Dirk is dead?” : “Yes, and the men are in a rage. I tell you, this 1s a bad im business for you. a : ; “y swear to goodness, Mr. Norris, that 1 ‘don’ t know——’ I -was there this morning, but I don’t remember , \ Here a confused murmur was heard just outside, and then one of the Sailors poked his head in and said: ‘“Come out here, Chipps. You’re wanted.” - Chipps stepped boldly out and said, without further parley: *“T know what you're goin’ to say, and I want ye just to be ibdicate, and not condemnify me without a hearin’. Do you - actooally ‘believe as I Killed your comrade?” “Course we do,’”’ said one of the men. “Wasn’t your knife found stuck into him clean up to the hasp?” -“T dunno, surely. Mayhap it was, atid mayhap it wasn’t. haven’t been there to see.” ind ats it wur,” said the man, ‘an’ there’s a dozen kin prove I “M6 and Mister Norris, Sam Brown, ‘Bill Sweep, Tom Bin- nacle, Joe Bunt and all o’ the starboard watch.” bad Fad you Says so, and Mr: Norris and Tom Binnacle, it must be so, ‘cause I knows ye tell the truth. As fur as findin’ the ‘knife goes, that’s nothin’.” ; ger the blood on’ your coat?” Oba bit?! “Them’s pretty good proofs, Mr. Chipps.” _ “They don’t amount to shucks. Somebody has done this J yer, ‘and tried to put it on me.’ » “Who was it?” "Did I ever quarrel with Dirk Hansen?” ' “Naty onct.” ; Wasn't I allus mod’rate and temperate with him? Didn’t he ‘allus treat me decent when he quarreled: with every one be- sides?” , f ~~ “You and him allus ’peared to be friends,” said Tom Bin- Nacle, shifting the plug of tobacco in his mouth from one side to. the other. “Didn't you often hear Dick threaten, to go fur the captain, nd wasn’t the skipper allus a naggin’ o’ him and cuffin’ him around?” | ‘Right you are, Mr. -Chipp y “And you knowed that’ Bie ea sharpened his knife so’s to tick the skipper if he got too intemperate in his speech?” © . There was no answer to this question, the men feeling that @ cook was treading on delicate ground, and the second mate looked Surprised. “You know he did,” said the cook, “and you know’ he was ady: for mutiny, and a dozen others with him. I told the captain of it last night, and told him to look gut, ‘cause I likes ‘to be mod’rate in everything.” The men began to regard him with black looks, for eae ‘all of them were implicated in the matter, and they suspected at Chipps had betrayed them. ‘Ye needn’t' look so extraordinary gloomy and wart on’y. v7 "he continued, “for I ain’t given no names away. I hoped he might let up a little.” * ‘ou're as much in it as we.” know that. If you want to know who iillea Dirk Hansen, d'ax the skipper.” ; Oo you ‘swear it, wasn’t you? ‘Most assuredly. And furder, wid was it Gee the boy and kicked him when he lay dyin’ on the deck?” e skipper, curse bin!” ieee ow Selena mene 5 (358 3 —- | ter destruction. CHAPTER VII. THE MUTINY.- “What is the meaning‘of all this noise?’ denataad Captain North, coming out of the cabin, pistol in hand. “It means mutiny, that’s what it means,” cried Joe Bunt. “Down) with thé murderer, boys!” “You will have it; then,” roared the enraged captain. that, you villain, and nemees to BSED your peace!” “Crack!” Thud !i? The sharp report of the pistol sounded upon, the still air, and then came a dull thud as Joe Bunt fell to the deck dead, “Upon him, my boys,” yelled Binnacle, and, drawing an iron belaying pin from the rail, he sprang at the captain with the. utmost fury. “Ahoy there, Blake, Norris,eall of you!” “There is mutiny!” “So there is!’”’ cried Sweep,. aiming a blow at the skipper’s head. The two mates, the steward and carpenter rushed in, taking | sides with the captain, but Mr. Norris was felled in) a. twinkling. A 4 ' The captain fought like a tiger, and, seizing a handspike; from the mainmast, laid about him most vigorously, knocking down two or three of his opponents. The men came swarming up in numbers to assist their as- sociates, and it looked as if the captain would be beaten. He retreated to the cabin and locked himself in, he and his officers, after which a sharp battle bégan, the skipper firing upon the men from loop-holes and killing half a dozen before the others got under cover. Then!four or five armed with axes climbed up into the. rig- ging, and, crossing to the mizzenmast, slid down by the br aces, | and, springing upon the house, began to attack it pe their » sharp axes. Several more dropped over the rail and made their way aft ‘ along the planksheer, until they ‘had. joined their comrades, nf when they joined them in the work of destruction. ; Quick: and steady flew the axes, and before long one of the deck planks was cut in two .and the men Eee it’ up-and en- 13 \ larged the opening. gt They had not noticed the skylight,,and presently a ‘Bullet: wat came crashing through ‘the glass, ‘and, striking one of the mutineers in the base of the spinal column, finished his isi st forever. val The others flew to the skylight and aemouened it in an in. stant with their axes, two or three leaping down) PXDeCtine ek ; surprise the captain before he could reload. ; The first: was met by the mate, who literally blew the top” ‘of his head off with a double-barreled shotgun, while the second doubling one leg under him and falling in a painful position, was brained by the brutal captain before he could rise. mah The steward grappled with the third man and drove a knife » ‘i into his throat, the captain finishing the work by putting a. pistol to his.ear a3 he lay writhing in pain and sending: a bul Lite let through his brain, causing instant death. Hs I do not care to dwell upon these distressihg scenes longer than is actually necessary in order to show the terrible nature |. of the struggle and the fiendishness of the captain, whosehour was ie at hand, and [ will therefore pass quickly to, the seque rt Captain North, with the ferocity of a wild beast, armed him- he self with all the pistols he could find, loaded and thrust them © into his beit, and then rushed upon deck, discharging: them right and left with fatal effect, every shot telling, so that each sharp report was the funeral knell of some poor fellow, Numerous shots were fired at him, but he seemed to bear scharmed life; the bullets passing harmlessly by him and falling into-the sea or flattening against the rail. _ The other officers were right at his heels,. and the muttinesrs, Sa’ “Take roared North. et ae ‘heart and fell back in dismay before their angry ceaee “Do you surrender?” he cried at last. i “Yes,” replied the handful that was left. “All right then. Go to your work, but mind, every maa you goes. to prison the moment I reach a port.” : At that moment. the steward cried out: “Look to, windward, captain! There’s’ an everlas coming up.” The man was right, and in a twinkling, Betors: be raised, it was upon then; and Riscapentas the ship. s There was no. te aR he! ds parted
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~) ° '‘elothing, water, _ hastily. PIVE «YERARS, IN THE GRASSY SEA. a. —— into the sea, while the lightning, flashing with perternatural brightness, fairly blinded the men. It was morning, to be sure, but the baer were as black as night, and secareely a thing could be seen for the frightful aaa which, suddenly settled down all around the doomed ship. The thunder roared and crashed, the masts were struck and rent in twain by the fierce lightning; the wind blew a-lively gale, and the waters were lashed into a perfect fury, so that nothing could withstand their onslaught. The squall was succeeded by others only a shade less violent, and when the last one had passed, the vessel lay bruised and . battered upon the surface of the ocean, her masts and sails gone, her rudder and bowsprit carried away, her decks littered With rubbish, her hold half full of water, and all but a few of her crew dead. Those who still lived were Chipps, the cabin boy,.a little fel- low named Dave, the captain, the second mate, the steward and the ship’s carpenter, and these were all, the others having - perished. It was close upon night, and the probabilities were that the ship would not float until morning, the captain giving it as his opinion that midnight would see the last of*her. There was one good boat remaining, and into this he put provisions and other supplies sufficient for nimself and three companions. With a blood-curdling oath he told Chipps that he needn’t bother about furnishing the boat, for he wasn’t going in it, as there was but room enough for himself and those who had stood by him. “You didn’t take part in the mutiny, but you formed it, you lubber, and I won’t have you with me. You can go down with the Snowflake, since you are so fond of her.” “All right, captain,” answered Chipps, coolly. “T ain’t any fonder o’ your company than you are of mine, all animadver- sions to the contrary, notwithstanding. I ain’t fond o’ work, and I’m glad to get out of furnishing your boat for you.” The men set to work, and when. their boat had in it all that it would hold, North ordered what remained to be thrown over- board, and several barrels of meat,-kegs of hard-tack, sacks of flour and casks of water were destroyed forthwith. ‘ “May you seo the time when you'll need all those things, skipper,” said Chipps, solemnly. “‘You area devil; but you'll suffer wuss’n ye think for Stu I knowed ye was bad, but this ‘goes ahead——” “Captain, she is settling more and more,’ “We must be off at once.’ “Pile in then, Come, Dayy.” The boy drew back and regarding the captain with the ut- most horror, put his hand into that of the abandoned cook, and * said the steward, _ | said stoutly: ' “No! I will not go with such a brute, for you are all hurry- ing to your destruction. I will stay with Chipps.” 'The-captain swore a huge oath and struck at the lad, but the carpenter pulled him into the boat, and then they rowed away; leaving Chipps and the boy Davy alone on the sinking ship. eRe ra cure y CHAPTER VIII. THE CASTAWAY, t The Snowflake did not sink that night, as was expected, and ’ when the sun rose she was still afloat, although she had settled tully two feet since the previous night. , The heartless captain had not destroyed all the provisions, though what remained were not easy of access, and formed but tg small portion of the original stock. Chipps had secreted an ax, and with this he now set to work . forming a raft, Dave helping him about the light portions, and saving him many steps by bringing him things he wanted. The raft was made large enough to hold a dozen persons, and -had a double deck, a mast and ample sail, rudder, a rail around ' three sides, and a covered cabin, made of the galley, which the ' cook wheeied right on to his raft and lashed peur to ring- holts driven into the planks. \ ‘Hé and Davy secured several barrels of water, two small dasks of rum, a barrel of flour, two of.salt pork, two of hard- ‘tack and one each of potatoes, apples and onions, the last hav- 3 ing been overlooked by the selfish-hearted skipper. ‘There were a few cans of fresh meats, soups, vegetables and preserves, and these were stowed away car stipe by. the ik prudent cook, who knew their value. ‘does business, There was no chart nor compass, no nautical: instruments -help me finish this yer breakfast. Just you hold on a re ; hour glass, nothing to tell where they were or how Yast they - Nvere, progressing, but these were minor matters, so long as _ the he food and ei and Cian wasted no time in f t | ..The Snowfiake continued to setile slowly, and at last the. olitary workman did not dare to wait any longer, and putting in his. last supplies, took the stars and stripes from the cap- tain’s locker and hoisted it to the top of his mast, spread his sail, pushed off and began a voyage destined to last far longer than he had ever dreamed. Little Dave seemed sorry to leave the poor old Snowflake, and cried bitterly as they floated away, but Chipps comforted him, and he soon forgot his sorrow in slumber, being nearly | worn out by his labors. ‘ 4 It was now early afternoon, and there was a good breeze, the © sail drawing well and carrying the raft ahead at a lively tate, Chipps trimmed his sail well, and, as he scudded. along, looked back oceasionally to see if the Snowflake had yet gone down. Shee It was not long before he beheld a sudden agitation of the — waters, saw the waves heave and toss their foamy crests into the air, saw a sudden rush of white, a tremendous upheaval, a sudden swirling, eddying, billowy motion, and then the spray was thrown high into the air, and fell with a pattering sound like rain. The Snowflake had sunk at last, and the strangely assorted pair, the grizzled man and the pretty boy, were alone indeed. * * * * * * * A fortnight has passed, and old Chipps is alone upon his. raft, which still supports and shelters him. Li Poor little Dave has gone from him, and his heart is sad indeed, for the boy was a loved companion in this tenrihi¢ soli- tude, and his loss seems irreparable. The ¢xposure and excitement were too much for the ree suf- | fering as he already was from the cruel blows inflicted by the — ” hard-hearted captain, and at the end of ‘ten days he succumbed, and, laying his tired head in his friend’s lap, breathed his last. Poor Chipps seemed inconsolable when Dave died, and ~~ watched over his body! all night as if to recall it to life, but - p when the morning came and the boy did not answer him, but» lay so still and ‘white with his little hands folded across his breast and his curly head still reclining in the other’s lap, the poor man burst into a flood of ‘tears, a thing he had not done for a score of years, and, laying the boy tenderly down in the little cabin, covered his face with a handkerchief and turned ~ sadly away. The cabin boy was buried in the depths of the remorseless ocean, with a shroud of sail-cloth about him and a weight at) his feet, his hands folded as they had been, his locks neatly brushed, and his clothing arranged as tidily as Chipps could make it, and thus he was laid away to rest to await the judg- ment day, while the waves rolled on as carelessly as ever, and the winds sported with them as though a human heart had not sought repose there, or the grief of a poor old man had not there sought vainly to assuage its bitterness. ; So the days passed and melted into weeks, and-still the lonely castaway was tossed about on the ocean, his grief grad- ually calming and’ growing into a settled melancholy, which nothing but the vresence of pthiors could do iphaa hide Van nad hidesd seen a sail, de it was not the mere fancy of a disordered imagination. The sail was distant, to be sure, but it was bearing down to- ward them, and the Shipwrecked companions felt assured that they would be seen. Nearer and nearer it came, and before long they could make, out that the strange craft was a raft like their own, and that At bore a single occupant. Sr This was a bitter disappointment, for they had. eupcted! a. ship, but as it approached, their vexation grew less, and they. welcomed thé stranger with delight. * They could’see that his raft was larger than their own, that | he was supplied with a good sail and a shelter, that he had — provisions, and, better yet, «Water, the casks being’ plainly visible. The man himself sat on a cask in a very careless attitude, holding a black pipe.in one hand and in the other a huge sand- wich, which he bit at between the whiffs of his pipe. Van was almost ready to throw himself in the sea and swim | to the other raft, the sight of food and water fairly maddening. him, but Harlowe held him back, and then the lone man on the © other raft eried out coolly: “Take it mod’rate, my friends: We ‘should be temperate in all things. Watt till I finish my sandwich and ru Sea ye a line.” “Ror God’s sake, don’t desert us. in our extremity,” cried Mer- ton, making a motion as if to leap into the sea... 4 “Never fear, thy friend. That ain’t the way that Chipp Sard Pm glad I.geen ye, "cause I wanted some one to _. Then, putting away his pipe and Rebs aly b nd
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y bs Jet the men haye any, and they mutinied.” - “How-could rum cause that, if they didn’t have any?” 8 when the two came alongside he quickly made them fast, and said quietly: “Give the boy a show fust, and then the old man what’s fast asleep.” “Alas, you have come too late to save him,” said Harlowe, sadly, “for he is dead!” “Sho! I’m sorry I spoke so sudden: But I’m glad to see the; ” rest of you, and I expects we'll all have a fine voyage together. Ah, none of them knew what a long voyage theirs would be, and what exciting events would take place ere it was finished, ‘ CHAPTER IX. THE ORATOR. “How did you happen to be shipwrecked and floating about all alone on the Atlantic? Tell us of your adventures. I am erazy to hear them.” “Not now, my lad; wait till to-morrow. We must be tem- perate in all things, and my yarns on top o’ your sufferings | would be anything but mod’rate. Wait until to-morrow.” It was evening; that succeeding the morning of the rescue, and Van had asked Chipps to tell him his adventures, the lat- ter replying as above. During the day the body of Van Clief had been consigned to its last resting-place in the deep Atlantic, and Chipps had administered to the wants of his new friends, in moderation, however, for it would not do to let them partake too*heartily of food after their long abstinence. “It wouldn’t be prudent, you know, my boy,” he continued, “to tell you all I’ve gone through with, for ye’d get excited and excitement is a species of intoxication—is a species of - madness. Take my advice, lad, and don’t get drunk.” “There’s very little chance of doing’so out here on the ocean, I fancy,” said Van, with a smile. The old fellow winked, and then went on to diustrate his maxim by a story, a favorite practice of his. “711 tell you what happened to Ben Briggs, chief mate of the Sarah, as trim a whaling bark as ever you see. Ben was a great drinker, he was. He come from Providence, which is in the State of Rhode Island; some folks say nowhere else.” “That's wrong, Chipps, for our meeting you was a provi- ‘dence, surely.” “Will, as I was sayin’, Ben Briggs could drink like a horse. Why, when he got hold of a bottle of rum, it lasted so quick, as the Injun said, that you’d a been surprised to see it. Well, sir, that man actooally drinked hisself to death, he did.” “Did he die young?” “Why, he was in an eternal pickle from drinking so much, and you could smell his breath, if the wind was favorable, for hali a mile. He’d drink anything, he would; it didn’t matter what, from nitro-glycerine to the best French brandy.” “Turpentine, too?” ‘No, for that wouldn’t get him drunk quick enough, but he'd _go intoa ‘pothecary’ s, order a dozen bottles of Jamaicy ginger, and drink em down one arter the other.’ _ “I should think it would burn ‘his stomach out,” said Van, surprised at the story, which, although put into the mouth of Chipps, is an actual fact, as the author can testify, “Burn:his, Stomick? No, indeed, it was fire-proof. Wull, sir, that man, he went on drinking, getting boiling drunk every day of his life, until he finally died at the age of a hundred.” “What?” “Wack, and all ’cause he would drink. Shows the bad eh fecks of rum. Don’t yé never drink it, lad’ “But that’s an extraordinary age, Mr. Chipps: that drinking shortened this man’s/life.” > “Yes,1 kin. Ef he’d a let rifm alone, with his str on? con- : stitution and cheerful ways, he’d a lived to a been two hun- dyed, if not more; but he would drink, and the consequences ‘was he died’ an early death, missed by all, and: partic’ly the “rumsellers, which he allus hung up.” “Hung up?” “Yes, put ’em down on the slate, made ’em keep the ’counts You can’t say =e in their heads, so’s he could come round the next day and kick ‘em out.” Van laughed, and Chipps being anything but temperate when * ae began spinning yarns, went on to enforce his ‘moral still more. “Why, there was my old captain on the Snowflake,” he said, ' “ail the fuss he made was on account o’ drink. He Wouldn't “Why, if they'd a had it.in moderation, they wouldn’t @ re- Te te i hg a rum is a L great sansaepm tae’ Bis cant Fas FIVE YEARS IN THE GRASSY SEA. I SERN ean ann ee “Ah, Mt. Chipps, I’m afraid you are not as strong a temper- ance man as you'd have me believe.” “Why, yes, I am. Rum causes nine-tenths of all the crime what’s done; fills the pawn shops, poperlates the jails and — lunatic asylums, makes all the misery there is, ruins thou- sands, makes men crazy, poor, wretched, dirty, thieving, con- temptible vagabonds, that’s what it does.” ; “IT believe you, Mr. Chipps.” “Course it does. It takes away a man’s self-respect, .de- prives him of many a square meal, snatches the shirt off his back and the shoes from his feet, puts mortgages onto his house and blossoms 6n ‘his nose, unsteadies his character—and his legs, builds palaces for gin-millers, while the customer has to take an airy lodging on a door-step. I tell ye, strong drink is a cuss.” Van assented, and Chipps waxed eloquent, bringing forward many convincing arguments against intemperance, and quite surprising all hands by his comprehensive grasp of the sub- ject. Night came on, and while the three companions slept under the shelter of the little cabin, Chipps kept watch, tending the sail and the steering gear, and heading well up into the wind. At two o’clotk he called Harlowe, the latter being the only | real sailor in the party besides Chipps, and the former mate remained awake until morning. He thought that Chipps acted very strangely, his walk bhe- ing very unsteady, and his enunciation decidedly thick and in- distinct, but he soon forgot about it, and never thought of it again until the sun arose above’ the sea, when he looked in upon the eccentric fellow for the purpose of waking him. He got one good whiff at the man’s breath, and if it wasn’t rum which scented it, he did not know the smell of the article. Chipps was not easily aroused, and when ‘le was there was no mistaking his condition, for he was as drunk as a lord, at he would have said himself. There was no denying the fact, but what puzzled Harlowe was not) that Chipps should get drunk immediately after de- livering a temperance lecture, but where he got the liquor, for he had not been able to discover anything spirituous aboard the raft. ‘However, drunk or not, Chipps was just as jolly as ever, and was the life of the party all that day, though Van was sadly chagrined at séeing his condition until the funny fellow’ got him into a good humor by his quaint remarks and his tén- derness and kindly care, of which the lad still stood in great need, heat of the sun, tempered by the cooling breeze, which, now that they had water and food in abundance, seemed to infuse new life into them all, instead of parching their throats and drying up their blood, as it had done before. After all, delightful as the sea is under many, and perhaps most, circumstances, there are occasions when a séaman’s life is not a bed of roses by any means, and he is in. no mood for seeing the ever-changing beauties of sea and sky. It is delightful to go bounding over the waves, with all sail ~ set and the wind blowing briskly just over the quarter, the bright side of Jife on the ocean, and/now came the reverse. with the spray dashing in shimmering clouds around the bow, and the porpoises sporting all around you. | It is a different matter, though, when these same waves are. tossed into mighty billows.by the angry winds, when the drenching clouds of spray reach to the very mastheads, when the labering bark goes plunging headlong into the black waters or rolls helplessly in the trough of the sea, when masts are rent asunder like twigs, and sails are torn to atoms in a mo-! ment, when all around is black and hideous, and death seems threatening in every gust and every billow. ; So with the little party of castaways; they had seen the bright. side of like on the ocean, and now came the’ reverse. Toward noon the. cloudg began to thicken, the wind blew in fitful gusts, seagulls wheeled around and around in“the air, shrieking and uttering discordant’ cries, while afar off the waves could be seen, dotted all over with white caps. “What are those little birds yonder?” cried Van, suddenly. “How pretty they look—and see! they almost go under the . waves as they swoop down.” “Storm petrels,” said Harlowe, briefly. . “Mother Cary’s chickens,” added Chipps, “what makes thei? All day they kept on, the weather being propitious and the . bY { nests on the waves, so sailors'say, and like that kind of | | weather the best which brings storm and shipwreck to» peor Jack Tars.’” “T have heard they were birds of ill luck,” said Mentone gloomily.* “It seems that our troubles are not yet over.” “Don’t abuse the poor petrels,” said Harlowe, “for did. they. not appear we should have no warning ‘of the Neate which i sweep over the ocean.’” tien rea pact pose said Metta hu 776 in in hey ey bring storms Pp EP
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PIVE YE EARS. “ray THE GRASSY mgt aes SEA. ie ok «No, they do not bring, but give warning of, the storms. I would not have the petrels banished by any means, for they al-| on sabe Ge give one time to prepare for danger.” “Like rattlesnakes, eh?” said Merton. “Tell you what's ‘coming, and then let. you have it, hot and heavy.” Beats CHAPTER X. 9 THE CURRENT. - “T think it will be as well to take in our sail and strengthen our lashings, Mr. Chipps,” said Harlowe, without taking time to answer the gloomy Merton. “What do you say?” ' “Not a bad——” Ha! lively there, my lads, for there she comes in good earnest. Look out for yourselves, first of all. Our lives are of more importance to us than the sail is. Hang on tight, my boy, for there'll be no getting ye back if ye fall into them waves.” His caution was well timed, for in an instant, almost with- - out warning, the storm broke upon them in all its violence. . -The sail was blown from its fastenings in a moment, and ' witha report like a cannon flapped and fluttered in the wind ' until it was ragged and torn to shreds. - The mast quivered, but released from the strain which the sail would have brought upon it, held firm in its place, the _halyards singing and whistling as the wind caught them. ' The raft was fortunately strong and well built, so that there was no danger of its going to pieces, the bulwarks which Chipps had constructed doing much to save the Pee from a _* thorough drenching. -On they swept over the billowy ocean, the Ione: heavy swell _ seeming to carry them forward with great rapidity; the spray > dashing’ as high as the top of the mast, and just escaping them. - Van went into the little cabin and lay down, Chipps remain- ‘ing at the helm, and keeping the head of his craft well up into the wind, and although he had no sails to steady it by, main- tained. a tolerably straight course. Harlowe and Merton strengthened the “lashings about, the casks, boxes and other movable things on deck, taking par- ticular care to secure the galley, in which had been stored the iost of the fresh provisions. “Thus on and on they flew, the wheel howling around them, the waves, all white with foam, rolling beneath them, the uds gathering thicker and thicker over their heads, ana the whole boundless ocean spreading away on all sides, pre- S¢ nting a scene of awful desolation never equaled on land. rents; they swept on and on towar d that strange region ere they were destined to remain for so long, and where wonders would appear that they had never dreamed of: arried onward by a mysterious power, or perhaps by a mbination of them, they were now on their way to that strange land, which is both sea and meadow, whose area éx- that of the whole Mississippi valley, where ud ocban ' seem to store up its rubbish; where wind and rain are rarely me th, and where whatever enters stays to rot and crumble dust, forgotten and neglected. the rest of that day the gale lasted, so ‘that it w, is im- ssible to ‘get up what sail there still remained, if haply the es contained any, and they were forced to*go whither the s and currents would take them. The danger of being swamped was happily over and the four ds could enjoy some degree of comfort, the motion of the being far less violent than before. ’ Night came, and although the wind was not So strong, the vatt: was still driving forward at a more rapid rate than the cir- ces would seem to warrant. ch was kept that, night by all except Van, the boy be- r from strong; but as there was little to, do,;one man ly stand ‘watch alone, letting the others sleep. and yet the raft, with no sail up, kept steadily on at her rate of speed, a good four knots in the hour. breakfast, prepared by Chipps, and eaten with a relish, ~ the goo ele seaman proposed ar Seagal should, go to gail- Ng mal ng for hile. ook through his stores, Wrst eese softly to him- Guided by an unseen hand, the mysterious force of the ocean morning when the sun rose the breeze was quite mod- | book says; so don’t Jet's worrit. The current has “Pxactly. What extry ‘call cloth we had went fee alles Rice shroud for the poor man what died, and the sails that blowed ee away was the only ones left.” Merton. ‘Take that.” “Won’ t do; it’s thick with paint and soot, and We, want i besides.” “We are going along pretty well without any sail,” somianees fz Van. “I don’t see as we are so ida off, after all. See how. the waves ripple.” | “You don’t feel very Seely wind, a6 you?” asked Harlowe.. ‘ “No.” “Take the canvas out of our bunks,” said Merton. have sails.” “Can’t do it,” said Chipps. Nothing more was said, and the raft floated on at. the same even ‘pace all the morning, Van reading one of the books which Chipps had saved, and the latter preparing. dinner as” uncon- cernedly as though he were aboard ship; and there was noth- ing to disturb him. A The wind died nearly out by noon, but the speed of the tee seemed to have abated nothing, s steady rate of four knots i being kept up. No mention was made of this fact during diane time, s after the meal was dispatched, Merton lay down in the ‘shai and went to sleep. Van busied himself with his book once. more, ahd Chipps; after washing up his coppers and utensils, — lit his pipe and sat upon his bench, calmly smoking. Presently Harlowe entered, and, sitting down alongside of Chipps, said quietly, as if that had been oh only purposs in entering: q “Give me a bit of fire, cook.’ He lit his pipe, puffed away a few minutes, and’ then asked “What d’ye think of the weather?” “Mod’rate and pleasant, not much wind and none. too w rm. for comfort.” : “Look here, cook,” said Harlowe, suddenly dropping. Lis careless tone, “you know just as well ag I that we are in a bad strait, and that even if we had a sail it could do us but it ood. ne ; from his lips. “You know as well as I that we are in one of the great ¢ currents, which is bearing us on at the rate of four good” an hour.’ “We couldn’t do that without any wind. Gutess you right.” 4 a “You know it, and making up your mind that ‘there w 5 help for us, you have pitting at) resolved ae say” pars What current tbo Wi kat 2 Japanese ' nor yet the Humboldt “Don’t: try to fool me, old ate Tt is ae F eaustonaled rent, Do you know what becomes of it?” .~ “wWull, I ain’t much of a scholard, but I’ve been, to loses itself somewhere off the northern coast of Afri swirls around and around, and, with a part of the | runs around and around ag’in on the outside of like, between the West Injies and the Spanish M *) “And it is altogether likely that we may’ drift into the outer branches of this current and get carried i huge basin you speak of?”. Lys “It might happen as you say. Here, take a light; you've | your pipe go out talking so much.” Harlowe relighted his pipe, puffed away until herp red glow in the bowl, and said: “Tt is the current, then, that is influencing our. ¢0 termining our fate, perhaps. The likelihtood of meet sels now is roa ee “Very.” \ ya “There are foun of us, with food enough 40. last —— “Seyen or eight months wi’ mod’ration.” _ : “And then?’ F } “Wull, you nor I nor nobody knows what then, as the the current must take care of us. ‘Gimme a light, out.” i a long search, during which nothing like sail-| i in the aaah Une, his face began te
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nn ¥ ys FIVE YERARS IN i there a gap of water as far as the eye could reach, the color being generally a reddish yellow, with an occasional green or ' brown spot to break the monotony. of; “Where does it all come from?’ asked Van, after looking at the floating masses,’which looked like meadows set adrift. “Oh, it grows, and it gets washed by the ocean currents and | gathers in big patches like this. There ain’t very much of it here, as Merton says, and if I ain’t mistaken we shall see more © of it before the week is out.” _) “Why don’t you tell him that we won’t see anything Bins by and by?” asked Merton savagely, looking out from under his shaggy eyebrows. “Why don’t. you. tell ‘him that we are hope- ‘lessly adrift,-and that these floating meadows are destined to be the graves of us all? That would be better than holding ‘ out hope only to have it disappointed.” " “*Pwouldn’t be mod’rate,” said Chipps, coolly. ‘Breakfast is ready, and you better take a good cup of strong coffee. | There’s nothing like it for driving away the blues.” f “J haven’t got the blues,” said the other, fiercely. “I’m not ' yauch* of a sailor, but I know what the presence of so much - ‘weed in this part: of the ocean means as well as you do. Curse you, it was an evil day when you came across us.” _ | The old rage was coming upon him, and there was no telling ' ‘to what excesses he might 26 in his fury. ; As before, when crazed by thirst, he was as likely as not to id Kill one of his comrades; and Chipps was no more safe from | his rage than Harlowe or Van, toward whem his anger. had | formerly been directed. . “alm. yourself, Merton,” said Harlowe, laying a hand upon * his shoulder. “We none of us know what is in store for us, _ and we must resign ourselves patiently to-whatever comes,’ “You/are a sailor, and are used to the sea and love it,” re- ‘joined Merton. “I am not, and the dreary monotony of waves ‘and ‘sky is horrible to me. The sea has ever been a treach-| ‘erous. foe. when I have trusted myself upon it, and I am sus- , ‘picious of it.” i. “There is not much here to eause alarm,” | gales, no ‘huge waves, no tempests.” ~* : “The calms at sea are sometimes more terrible than the tem- \ pests,” answered the man. ‘Heaven help you, boy, but there Hi is much trouble in store for you, and if I mistake not none of Us shall ever behold the land again.” During the day Merton sat moody and silent upon the deck in thé shade, or stretched himself out and slept. Chipps went about his, accustomed work as usual, and Van, when he was not reading, came out to watch the drifting weed. The patches grew denser, the straits between being less fre- quent,;and acres upon acres of the floating meadows stretched away, red and green. ‘Phe raft floated through it, and Van picked up great bunches which he examined carefully, finding numerous little crabs feeding upon it, and sometimes a Hay fish caught in the inches. “Gulf weed. There is a botanical name, but I don’t know it. Ou might possibly find it.in one of Chipps’ books. There is one that treats of.the wonders of the ocean, I believe.” ‘And shali-we see more of this weed?” ae “Undoubtedly.” Do you know «where we are drifting?” nek can guess. “Where?” an ’ “Ton’t ask mé now, Van. It will be time enough by and by.” In two, days more the weed had greatly increased, the area ing not only more extensive, but the mass considerably ‘thicker than before, so that at times the raft made slow prog- 885 through it. ‘We have left the current,” said Harlowe to Chipps, as they ‘side by side in the galley after dinner. ‘Or it has left us. What a lot of the weed there is. There'll e bigger fishes in it before long, I reckon.” 1 know what you are thinking of. si may have to eat ese fish.” “Well, they. ain’t bad eatin’, and area aod sight Better than hin’. I wouldn’t mind a good fat Wa or dolphin, but éékon there won't be any.” Sea much water is there left?” tes i] | said Van; “no | ake Harlowe, izapres- “consfivabe and it may rain afore long.” : the ¢alm’‘belt? Not likely!” Sow, you mustn’t be intemp’rate in your speech, cause it @in’t good. Why, there was Bill Gunn, a fellow E knowed: _ Just see what licker done for him.” : ane lecture?" ae Van, putting his hoad in at: the This tie Bill Gunn, me used to ke a fish, an8 ie a-haying to work on the railroad, too. at fellow, he made a hundred dollars ‘al week, and all rant, 07 een hae: fiftee THRE. ough | where he had got his liquor, out there on the wide aes was tresher than the last, the masts partly standing and the sails [ membered, uncared for,” at ¥ i bichst role GRASSY” SEA. “Where is your moral for that?” asked Van, with a laugh. “Where is it?” said Chipps, scratching his head and looking puzzled. “Yes; it will be hard to find, I take it.” ' “Not a bit, my lad. The moral is jist here: If he hadn't’ a- drinked and had saved his money, he’d a-lived longer and had forty thousand saved up. I tell you rum’s a cuss.” Then the queer ‘old fellow gave one of his leetures upon temperance, which quite edified his hearers, and in the even- ing he was so drunk that he could hardly stand up! a mystery, for neither Van nor any one else had discovered any aboard the raft. Two days more passed by, and the mass of weed still in- creased, the weather being calm, and but little wind Dee vailing. Occasionally, to pass away the time, the friends would get | out the oars, push the drift aside, and propel the raft through the water, thick with the floating weed, now and then a broad patch of open water occurring when the progress was piaicN a f faster than among the weed.. a One evening after supper the two sailors were sitting ‘to- Ue gether as they often did, when Harlowe said: ia “Your firewood is about gone, cook. What, are you going to | do?” “There might be some drift-wood among all this weed, and the sun would dry it... I are got a boat-hook, you know.” “Come, come, man, out with it. You know where we are drifting now.” “It might be the grassy sea, and that’s a big place.” “Whence there is no escape. Do you know its extent?” en “Four or five hundred thousand square miles, perhaps more. Ne fs that about right?’ “Yes, and ships rarely pass through it.” F “Well, we can stay here, can’t we?” , hy : “Stay in the grassy sea?” Fe “Certain. "Tis calm and Pleasant, and they is old hulk’! % floatin’——” 4 “And rafts with,skeletons upon them,” groaned Harlowe, “and ships that come here, fall to pieces and are forgotten, as we ire be, for the place is the very Meeai | of the Shadow of . Death.” , CHAPTER XII. ak 4 ' “THE SARGASSO! One noon, four days idkar: Van came out to see if Chipps had got dinner ready, when,. looking) over the rail, he cried. ; “€ suddenly: & “Why, look! there’s a bit of a wreck, some vessel’s house and fife-rail. By George! and there’s a foretop with. cross-trees and! a hit of mast sticking up as. though the ship had just One : down.” “And just when my firewood has given out,” said Chinpas , “How lucky! Get out the axes, Mr. Harlowe. Van, you:take the boat-hook and fasten on to that ’ere stick while we chop in up. ” “Some poor wretches sent adrift into this ghastly region may chop our faft up some day,” muttered Merton; “it’s more than likely.” |. \ No one paid any attention to the man’s gloomy ermasted: for ali were interested in getting the drift-vood aboard, and the - three busied themselves, pulling in, chopping and splitting un- til quite a goodly pile of fuel lay upon the deck exposed to: the’ sun to dry and be fit for the stove. Later in the afternoon Van saw more of the dritt, this tna ’ a dismasted hulk, the decks sprung and twisted by long ex- | posure to the sun, the tar having all run ont of the seams, the © ea covered with green fungus, and the pele slowly rotting away. i No 1 name was to be seen on the wreck, and Van gazed sadly be on it as he pictured the gallant ship dancing merrily over the ovean, the hearts of al] on board light and joyous, and now, this ~ poor. wreck speaking of priyation and death, a watery stave - and oblivion. : Ip ee The next day they passed quite close to a vessel, newer and . still hanging over the sides, mildewed and rotten. “What sort’ of a region is this?” eried the boy; “a place for old wrecks?” “You may well say so, Van,” rejoined Harlowe. verti ts Neptune’ s rubbish closet, and thither the currents bring ail refuse of the.ocean to rot and fall mito, sage Bee at last hiding
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ae 2 te. + ua tu. -.e trap FIVE YEARS “TN” THE SSE ae ue ASSY SHAS SS = other masses, similar to this, in the Pacific, Indian and South Atlantic, but none of them equals this in size.” “Why do you think we are in the Sargasso Sea? a chart?” “Chipps has. Look around you. What do you see?” “Miles and miles of seaweed, here and there a floating wreck; >. ‘in the distance what seems a dismantled ship, a few flocks of . noisy birds, the hot sun shining over all, an air of the most terrible desolation hanging over it, and not a sign of human life in all the dreary scene besides ourselves.” “And this is the sea of grass, which the sailors of Columbus thought marked the limit of navigation. From the earliest times it has been here, and ages hence it will still be in its place, unless,the ocean currents change, which is not likely.” “And do the currents make it?” , } “Partly; though the weed grows naturally in the sea water, and. by no means all of it is brought here. You have seén Pal sticks and light objects thrown into a tub or basin, and the water set in motion?” i “Often, and when I was a little fellow T used to watch how the rubbish would all go to the middle, where there was: the least, motion.” ae «Tt is the same thing here. You have this immense basin _ between two continents, and two mighty streams rushing in coutrary directions, causing the whirling motion. This basin \ is the calm centre, and here come all the bits’ of wreck, masses of weed and other floating things which the great currents do not carry ashore.” Ba “And it will always be here?” ) “While the world lasts.” “And once here——” Harlowe was about to speak when Merton stepped forward, pointed to a rotting hulk in the distance, and said: ‘“There is the emblem of our. fate! We have come here but to die! A stanch ship enters this accursed spot, she swims * ground and around lazily, her masts melt away, her seams open, her decks whiten and crumble away under the gleaming sun, little by little she sinks beneath the waves or rots and ; falls into dust upon the ever moving weed. Annihilation is +. the lot of all that comes into this sea of death, whether human or inanimate.” : “Be more mod’rate,” said Chipps. ) *ere yet, so don’t ye be frettin’, Van. but it may be providential after all that we’ve come here. one kin tell.” ' “Look at yonder ship,” ‘said Merton, pointing- to the one they ‘had recently come upon. “She seems in good condition, and cannot have been wrecked. Her masts are nearly all standing and her sails are there yet.” ‘The raft ina few minutes drifted right against this ship, and Chipps made fast a warp to a lanyard that had been ‘snapped off :and hung over the side. ' “Suppose we go aboard,” he said. that would be of use to us.” » “het’s look at, her name,” tubbed out.” The boy went to the end of the raft, and by straining his . neck could just make out the ship’s name in tarnished gold _ letters on the stern. Re f “She’s called the Vampire, but I can’t tell where she comes >. from,’ he cried, upon making the discovery. or bird of evil omen,’ muttered the gloomy Merton. “(’U / warrant that she does not belie her name. None but the devil's ships call themselves by such unholy titles.” “Make the warp fast there, Van,” said Harlowe, “and we will go aboard. It won't do to have our raft float away from us. even if we have found a ship.” Van took an extra turn of the warp, and then Merton - Scrambled up the side df the vessel, followed by Harlowe, with ) anax in his hand. Van was given a lift by Chipps, and then the jolly cook him- ‘self followed the rest, bringing an ax with him, as well as Harlowe. ©The hatches are all down,” said Harlowe, “and the cabin doors closed tight. af a “Let's open ’em,” cried Chipps, walking aft. ' ean find the log.” The doors leading to the cabin were evidently barred upon ‘he inside, for they would not open when ‘Chipbs' put his hand - upon the knob. “What a horrible smell!” said Van; 40 come: from the hatches.” /‘T don't like the looks of the ship at all,” said Harlowe. ‘seems to me like-—” \ >. Merton suddenly snatched the ‘ax from out’ of Harlowe’s hand, cut away the battens upon the main hatch, ripped off ‘i ‘the: taxpaul ns, and threw Pe, of the Raves don into: the At on ro nat can. be Have you + “We may get out of this It’s a big place, I know; .No “We mought find suthin’ said Van. “I don’t!believe it’s YEE) “Perhaps we “what is) it? it! seems. re -|ing cast one jook into the horrible: pit beneath. mt ceived, as though & aihoue th had broken forth; and Merton, turn- Oy ing as pale as death, fell upon the deck, the ax dropping from) — his grasp, while in the most terror-stricken accents he gasped: “Mercy on us! J said she would not belie her name. She is’ a slaver, and the hold is crowded with ed carcasses of. dead negroes!”” CHAPTER XITI. THE SLAVER. At this, terrible announcement Harlowe turned pale, but. © springing forward, he seized Merton and dragged him away from the open hatch whence the deadly effluvium from the rot- ting corpses seemed to rise in a cloud which could be almost seen. * “My God!” cried Harlowe, as he Groot Merton away, shay: “They gens there in hundreds.” co “Are they all dead?” asked Van, retr send to the further end , : of the ship, where the exhalations from the hold were not so overpowering, though even here they were frightful. “Yes; the very air is poison. I would not be thrown, down into that-sickening pit for all the wealth of Africa.” : “Charcoal is a good thing to take out the stench,” said Chipps, “or even lime. We might find something aboard which would kill that awful smell.” é “Better scuttle the ship or burn it,” said Harlowe. “Shali muttered Merton. “This *) we enter the cabin?” We had better set fire to the accursed “Death may lurk there, too,” stench is frightful. bark.” “And make it worse,” retorted Chipps. Axi. With one blow he smashed in the door, and descended a short ~ companionway, followed by Van and Harlowe, finding nothing © in the outer cabin to cause any alarm. ch The-air was hot and close on account of the place having been shut up so long, but that was all, and closing the outer door so as to keep out the stench from the hold, Harlowe tried: : the door which he saw just in front. E It yielded to his touch, and he pushed it open, recoiling with ~ horror at the very next moment. : The dead body of a man, covered with ‘clotted plod, was - seated before a pine table, upon which rested his head andy hands, surrounded by a dark spot, which was undoubtedly: dried blood. “Smash open the cabin’ windows, and let us have seme air,” said Harlowe, and Van resolutely advanced, passed the hideous object in the chair, and dashed out the sashes of the windows, letting in a flood of pure air. “Here’s a bar’l o’ charcoal,” cried Chipps, suddenly, having a: be en, nosing about the cabin. “Guess the cook must ha’ used ~ ati “Here, gimme the Then’ without further ado he fumbled around in the stew: ard’s pantry until he found an iron pot in which he proceeded — at once to make a firé of broken bits of barrel staves. 3 When he had gecured a hot blaze, he broke up some good: sized pieces of charcoal and put them on the fire. Then he carried the. not outside, and set it on the deck, Jay- i ing several large sticks of eharcoal on top in a manner that — would cause them to ignite, and yet not smother the flames beneath them. a." A dense cloud of smoke soon arose, and to a great degree ! killed the stench from the hold, though it was stillamnbearable if one went too near the mouth of that death-pit. 1S: ia Meanwhile, Van and Harlowe had been exploring the cabits, oe and had found the captain’s log-book, a case of eka and am munition enough to last some time. MA The vessel was a slaver, as they had supposed, and had had an eventful history, as the diary of the captain testified. This man’s name was Dominick Main, and he had been. at slaver for many years, this last voyage, had it been successful, being the best he had ever made. He had got his slaves at Congo for almost nothin: and’ set sail for Cuba.. When three days out the men mutinied, and a pitched battle oceurred on deck, in which at least:a, eee Me: kinted. et The mate, at evil. fellow called’ Gregoire, a Wrendneane shad been at the bottom of the trouble, and against him the capta: was particularly bitter, disputes occurring constantly et wee! i the two, ending fatally at last. Ke To add to their troubles, the plague broke out among ¢ slaves, and spread to the sailors, five dying in a Biuete 4 their bodies being thrown overboard. » > As they swept into the equatorial current a. storm 8 PA CEOE the vessel was Seed the men bei
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FIVE “YEARS IN + THE “GRASSY SEA. The hatches were battened down securely, as the slaves had already made one nearly successful attempt at escape, and the poor fellows were imprisoned below in the foul air of the hold. The storm swept many of the remaining sailors overboard, where they became food for the sharks, their despairing cries ringing in the ears of their comrades. _ The Vampire drifted with the current; the captain, locked . in the cabin by the treacherous Gregoire, being unable to take command. He had been badly wounded by the mutinous Frenchman, and it was from these hurts that he died, writing out the last pages of his record while his strength remained. The mate had fled,.be knew not whither, and the men with him, if there were any left, for he had called repeatedly to them, and had listened without hearing a sound: By the dates of his last entries the castaways found that it was about two weeks sinte the captain had died, and the Vam- pire must have entered the Sargasso at tha* time. “Good Heavens!” cried Van, suddenly, Gregoire may, like ourselves, be wandering in this place of desolation.” ' “It is not likely,” said Harlowe, quietly: “Let us look about us some more. We may find what we wantin the tool-chest.” “Tf you want an auger,” said Chipps, suddenly appearing, “Pye got one, and a stock. I got it from our own craft.” “Then let us get out what we want and scuttle the ship.” ) “You won’t go down in the hold?” “No, but in the run. We can work on the outside, too.” When they went on deck they found that Merton had been in the forecastle, where twe’dead men were discovered, the poor unfortunates having evidently died from the plague. < Wan, in one of-his trips from the raft to the Vampire's cabin, came across a chest containing gold, and this they emptied, taking the bags to the raft and depositing them in a place of safety. “What mockery!” muttered the taciturn Merton; Such a place. Of what use is it in the grassy sea?” “We don’t intend to ‘stay here all our lives,” answered Chipps; “and gold in moderation is a good thing to have about.” When everything that was of use to them had been taken wa from the slaver, Merton descended into the run, which was first thoroughly fumigated, and.bored three or four good-sized holes in the bottom of the ill-fated vessel. / Van and Chipps had been at work upon the outside in the ineantime, and before long the Vampire began to settle per- ceptibly, the water pouring in great jets through the holes that had been made. “We will soon see the last of the slaves, 4 said Van, “and I am not Serle: ie “sold in CHAPTER XIV. THE CALM. ¢ 4 ’ e Z Before leaving the deck of the Vampire for the last time, “Harlowe secured the cabin doors,.and with *the assistance of ' Chipps and Van, for Merton would do nothing, covered over the » open hatehway with sail-cloth and fastened it down by, rolling ~ a spare yard across. *~ When the vessel came to sink, the dead bodies would natu- Yally rise and float upon the surface if the hatchway was left “open, and as one of the hatches was in the hold there was no “ing strewn upon the waters, to breed pestilence and death. When everything had been done the party hastily retreated to the raft, and, cutting loose, pushed away, for the slaver was sinking rapidly, and they did not care to be swamped when she “went down. Chipps had carelessly overturned the pot of burning, char- ‘ coal, and the deck, as dry as tinder, was soon in a blaze, the ~ flames spreading rapidly, and Very, nearly cutting off Van’s re- ‘treat. - Harlowe sprang to the boy’s assistance, and they both eg- ef _ caped in safety, pushing off as soon as they got on board the | Debts) The flames spread very rapidly, the vessel. being soon wrapped in a sheet of fire and smoke. The water made as good progress as the flames, however, and by the time the castaways ‘had gone three cables’ lengths the deck was level with the ocean. * _ Propelling the raft through the thick masses of weed, an space, occurring now and then, they. made good progress, ud were out of danger when, with a sudden plunge and hiss; th l-starred vessel sank beneath the waves and disappeared ‘ er “the villainous [ other way to close it and prevent the horrible objects from he- t surface, but, striking into an open channel of considerable length, rowed steadily, the cook merely pausing once to’! look back over his shoulder and say: , “Wull, that ’ere is the last of those poor critters, Gorry, how they did smell! The stench sticks in my nostrils yet. Wull, slavin’ is a godless trade, whatever ye kin say,.and the fate o’ that cap’n was deserved.” “And the Frenchman?” asked Merton. him?” “What Frenchman?” asked Harlowe, not ant that Mer- ton knew anything about him. “Gregory, or whatever else he calls himself; I know all about aa It will be just our luck to run across the frog-eating nound.”” “You must be more mod’rate, my friend,’ said Chipps, or ye'll git the reputation of bein’ a Jonah. I animadvert as how you've read the Seriptures enough to know who Jonah was?” - Van laughed at the cook’s queer expression, but Merton only sulked and said nothing; presently, throwing down his oar, saying: “T’m going to sleep. in this horrible place.” As he went off and lay down in the shade, Harlowe said, | drawing in his oar: “You can go and finish your book, if you like, Van, as there is no particular use for us to row any longer, and I ee Mr. Chipps wants to see after our supper. “Tis pretty near the ’propriate time, fer our incursions to that fateful bark occupied-considerable of the afternoon, and the sun is rushing down the west, as the poetry hook says.” That night the two counselors sat upon the rail in the moon- light smoking, Van and Merton being fast asleep, and Harlowe, after a few puffs, said gravely: “How long is this calm to last, friend Chipps?” “Well, friend Harlowe, we are in the neighborhood o’ the | Tropic o’ Cancer, there or thereabouts, and a sailor like you ; must know they’s calms running along that region, and’ it ain't often that it rains,’ “Had we better.go through or across the Sargasso?” “Tt can’t make much difference. You’re a navigator, and you |know just about how fur it is either way, and there’s small odds. We ain’t got sails, and we can’t row all the dis- ‘tance.” ‘Phen we are doomed to spend out lives here?” “Pre-haps. Any rate, we’re safe trom bein’ wrecked or swamped down here, and up to the nuth’ard or’ east’ard we'd have winds and storms. When we get a ae itll be time to. talk of gettin’ away.’ “How much water is there left?’ “You've got a suddent way o’ puttin’ questions, you saves They’s enough fresh water, if that’s what ye mean to intimate, to last us without stint for two weeks.” “And after that?” “Tf the calm continues, we shall have to drink grog—allts. providin’ we can obtain it.” “T have known the agony of thirst once, and I pray to Heaven that I may be spared the experience again. Come what will, that boy shall not suffer. I would throw myself into the ocean first.” “And give up the trust his poor father left you? ised to look after the lad,” “And so I will. Listen, for what I say is important. When the rain comes we niust fill everything we have and take care that no water is wasted. We have not a flowing spring where we can go and draw whatever we want at any time.” “Not mouch.’* “We are in a desert, with water all around us, pie none ato drink, and without that, food, though we had an abundance, is useless to support life.” The dreadful calm continued for days and days, the raft seeming scarcely to move, being, like the bark of the Ancient ~ Mariner, ‘ Ber we meet: ’Tis the only comfort a man can have You, prom- “Ag idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean.’ The waves were green and slimy, fungi formed upon the © sides of the raft, birds ceased to appear, the very air seemed to stand still, the sun rose in a hot mist and sank into a seeth- ing caldron; the heat was unbearable, and the slightest exer-— tion produced immediate fatigue. F ‘Merton fretted and fumed as the bie calm continued, Harlowe fearing that he would go mad. : “Of “vhat use is gold?” he cried one day, tearing open’& ~ yen that he ‘had secreted, and throwing the glittering pieces, into the air. “See!” he shrieked; “I would give all these for a breath of. the yale upon wy, cheek. Givé me hE My ee ie pene ie ‘days panded and the notte ay 8 wy
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om ; FIVE YEARS IN THE GRASSY SBA. » green\and slimy, and was scarcely fit to drink, the supply, of course, giving out much sooner than Chipps had anticipated. At last they were unable to drink it, and food became dis- tasteful to them, the appetite craving water, and being satis- fied with nothing else. J, And in the midst of all their sufferings there came no sign _ Of rain, no ray of hope, and they were almost ready to leap mt ‘into the water and put an end to their agony. Merton grew delirious, and had to be carefully watched lest Ted should take his own or another’s lite,.for he knew not what ‘he said or did, and raved constantly. And thus the horrible calm continued, until, in his despair, poor Van fell upon his knees and cried aloud: “Oh, God! let me die at once rather than suffer this agony. Have pity, and send the blessed rain!’ ¥ - WSS Bs CHAPTER XV. THE WANDERER. A The poor. boy’s prayer was not to remain wnanswered, for _ that very night a refreshing shower’ fell, and the castaways inew the blessed sensation ,which-water produces when one’s “threat is dry and parched. Chipps gathered several bucketfuls of the water and care- fully saved it, but the clouds, when once they had proved themselves propitious, were not niggardly with their supplies, and during the next two of three days the casks and barrels ' were all filled, the precaution being taken to throw two or three handfuls of powdered charcoal into each cask. » The breeze once more blew cooi and refreshing, the raft ' glided through the water, the birds appeared, fishes leaped _ trom the mass of weed, and all was life and motion. “71 tell you what,’ said Chipps, one afternoon, when he and Yan had chopped up a lot of drift-wood which they had come 4 across, “there’s nothing like water after all, ‘in mod’rate quan- _ tities, arid we've got lots of it.” - “Better than rum?” asked Van, quizzingly. “Certain. Talkin’ 0’ rum, there was. the cap’n of the ‘Sea Gulias could drink more toddy than ye ewer seed. He wouid dilute his water with it, associate it with his coffee, fry his | passengers in it, have rum sauce to his puddin’s; stew his kid- eys in rum, have rum omelettes, rum slapjacks and rum in iis milk. ~ “Tn fact, it was rum in everything that went down his. gul- i let from morning to night, not counting between whiles, and then it was rum again. Why, one day the cook grabbed up }/ the captain’s gun to shoot a gull with, when-bless me if he \didn’t shoot out a pocket pistol what the old man had stuck a there for safety! >» “That ’ere bird got hit in the head and was made so drunk with the grog that it fell right down onto the deck and flopped ~ around like a fellow with three sheets‘in the wind. _ “They wasn’t a mark of bullet or powder onto her, and she wasn’t hurt, on’y made drunk with the cap’n’s rum, so’s ,the cook just walked up and collar ed her as putty as you please, ‘and in two minutes that ’ere cir cumnayigating bird was: as dead as rats. “There was the cuss of rum, for if that pocket pistol hadn’t been in the gun, old Slush would no more ha’ hit that gull than he’d a-flown, for-he was no marksman and couldn’t hit a flock o’ houses at ten paces. - “There’s one moral, and I can give you another off the “same piece. The cap’n was drunk so much that he didn’t have “time to fight and maintain proper discipline, whereas, on the ontrary as I maintain, if it hadn’t been for rum he'd ’aye icked every critter aboard and got ’em all so seared that er6 wouldn’t ‘ve been a better disciplined ship in the huli Memerchant marine, even if every man,aboard had two black eyes ‘and all his teeth knocked down his throat. There was dis- ‘cipline sacrificed, ye see, and all on account o’ too much rum.” The days lengthened into weeks, the weeks into months, and I the four companions were drifting wearily through the ‘sea of grass, four or five months haying now elapsed Since the eeting with Chipps. Van spent the most of his time in reading, the cabin of the Vampire having furnished him with several additional books, ‘among which, strange to relate, was a Bible, as much out of lace in such a vessel as the devit would be in a church. One. mi Van suddenly Stakted ‘up. from the little cabin hw lying down in a mon of half doze. and, coming quickly: s that’ ‘you singing, Mr. Chipps?” e singin’! Why, ye couldn’t git a chirrup ont o’ me any could out'n a pure eey hig ain’t got; what you might voice.” i 5 Fs, > place? let the phantom pass. ever, don’t hail him again, for I want to sleep.” night, was eet?” “Was it you, Mr. Harlowe?” “No, indeed. There was no singing by any one.’ “But I heard it distinctly. The words were Beanie ‘to mae, put the air was quite familiar. I think it is French.” “Are you sure?” asked Harlowe, thoughtfully. “‘You may have been dreaming and imagined that you heard it.” “But I know that—— There!” As the boy spoke there came the sound of music across the dreary waste, and a man’s voice was heard singing in, clear, distinct tones the national anthem of France.. “<The Marseillaise Hymn’” muttered Harlowe. hear anything, my friend?” “T do, as sure as preaching, and if there was anything to drink out in this ’ere wilderness of woe, I should say I was drunk.” : “Hark!” “Do you The effect of the music as it dame floating over the water i was most weird and unnatural, for it could not be possible that, there were other human beings in this desolate waste, and, least of all, that they should be singing. ~* Had not all four heard the sounds, for Mertom was now awake, and listening with all his soul, it might be doubted that they were real; but it was not possible that they could all haye been deceived. a “Who is that singing?” growled Merton. nap.” “You'll have to go out there and see/the’ feller yourself, then,” answered Chipps, “for it. ain’t none of ws.” Merton sprang to his feet, gazed at each of his companions, and then gaspéd huskily: “Am I then ad? Do you hear no singing, any of you?” “T do,” said Van; “and it was I who first heard it.” “And you, Chipps, and you, Harlowe—do you hear it, both?” “T want to get a “Yes,” they answered. “Tt is a French song—‘The Marseillaise!’” “Wm! Then I am not going mad, aiter all. Weil, let the wretch sing, if he wants to, though it’s a puzzle to-me how, any one can sing in this horrible place.” “Aha, he’s changed his tune,” cried Van, as the air of a rol licking sea song which they all knew sounded over the waters “Are we dreaming?” said Harlowe, in a whisper. “It. can: not be possible that a man is out there, amusing himself by singing!” “Suppose we hail him,” said Van. “It must be a wanderer like ourselves, and he is singing to keep himself company.” “Don’t do it,” said Chipps. ‘It may be the old fellow him- self, Davy Jones, come up to take:the air.” “Tt can do no harm,” ‘said the former mate, in a tone of assent. Van stood up, and, making a trumpet-of his hands, shouted: “Ahoy! Where are you—you that sing in this desolate Who are you?” The song suddenly ceased, and all was still, not a sound being heard but the swish of the waves. After a short pause Van: put his hands to his mouth again, and cried, at the tep of his voice: Z “Why don’t you answer?. Who are you, and where did you. come from? Are you on a ship? Tf so, come and pick us up.” There was no answer, and Van was about to hail again, when Merton spoke up, and said: “Little good comes of hailing a specter; hold your peace, and “T can see no vessel,” observed Harlowe; “but then the moon is not yet risen. Our man has stopped singing, and I am afraid we shall not hear him again.” ! “We have frightened him,” “Prighten the devil? said Van., i“ I think not,” grumbled Merton. “How- Nothing further was heard of the mysterious singing, and’ after waiting in vain for a long time for the song to’ be re- peated, Van sank into a deep sianber) being shortly followed by his companions. It was nearly suntise when he awoke, and after dressing himself he came ont to see if Chipps was about, when he sud- denly heard a strange voice behind him. ; He turned, and there to the right, close to the rat, was the ' waterlogged. hull of a wrecked. vessel, and leaning over the broken vail was the figure of a man, bearded, swarthy, and |. wearing a red night-cap, on his head, talking to his friends. “Fo, ho! eet. was zou, my leetle friend, zat fright me in ze ~ “You hear my chanson and you say, ‘Hello!’ and zat makes me stoap. Ha, ha! -I fright you, too, eh? Bien, we must be friends. taire than mine, and so I comé@ aboard.” said the man. It was no vision, then, but a man, a wanderer like them: selves, that they had heard, and there he was coming Tleht. yh : ong them. st eet Bb dN vivo 1) hee rate te ; 2 ee: ‘ 13" It’s bad luck to speak to the evil one,”. Your sheep: is bet- wt
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ee a ‘RIVE -YHARS- IN THE “GRASSY SEA. I CHAPTER XVI. THE 'HIEr, “Ts this the man we heard singing last night?” asked Van of Harlowe, as the stranger began sliding down a rope, one end of which was fast to the rail. “Yes. We came upon him this morning, and he seemed as much surprised to see‘us as we were to hear him.” is i “He heard my hail last night?” “Yes, and was too frightened to answer; was a ghost.” pat ‘ At that moment the man swung himself over-into a boat alongside, and then, pulling to the raft, came aboard and said, with a smile which Van did‘not at all like: “Bon jour—zat ees to say, goot-day, my friends; mes amis “zis ees a fine sheep you hafe; moche better zan zat one,” throw- ing his thumb back over his shoulder at the miserable wreck he had just left. “What might a feller call you, Mr. Frenchman?” asked | Chipps, introducing himself, and then added: “This yer sailor-looking chap is Mr. Harlowe; the boy is Master Van Clief, though we call him Van fur short, and this other one is Merton. rageous land, or, rayther, water.’ “You would know my name?” said the man, with that eruel smile of his. “That's it, cause I suppose you've got one, si) itll be awk’- ard not to know what it is.’ “T am Gregoire Lenoir, foorst mate of ze Vilture; ze beez trading sheep what go down in ze meedle of ze Atlantique.” Gregoire! “That was the name of the treacherous mate,” thought Van. “Tl try this fellow.” “How long is it since the Vampire was lost, did you say, Monsieur Gregoire?” the boy asked, coolly. ' The Frenchman flushed deeply, and then said petulantly: "Sacre bleu! I did not say ze Vampire. I do not know him. said ze Vultare.” “As evil a bird as the other, 4 spoke up Merton. ae you leave Captain Main and the slaves?” i f “Wa, what you say? Captaine Mann and ze esclaves? I know not what you mean; I no comprend.” “Are you not Gregoire, mate of the Vampire, and) did you not kill and leave the captain locked in the cabin?” said Van, growing bold. “T kill him? Oui, J kill him, but he foorst gif me ze bad cut / “4 on ze forehead. . See!” : The ¥renchman pushed back his red night-cap and displayed a terrible sear right across the forehead, and extending down “How did bare. _-, “Of what account'ees it, if I haf killed him?” he said, lightly. “Te was a bad man, he deal in human life, he lock ze poor negres in ze hold to die and rot, he treat ze poor sailor man - like dog. Hef he is dead, what mattaire now?” ~ “None} I suppose,” said Harlowe. “How did you manage to live since leaving the Vampire? I may tell you now that she has sunk beneath the waters, she and all her ghastly cargo.” “Ea, you go aboard? You not tell me this by ze magic?” “No; we went - aboard, and learned all there was to be learned from the log.” _ “And she is gone down?” 4 “Ves. » e “Eh bien, it is well, she no more trouble ze poor black man. Wh bien! I haf been afraid of ze plague, and I leave. in ze grass already, and I take ze boat and ride through the weed, and I find zis sheep wiz some wataire and ze hard tack. ' Hein! I moste catch ze crab and ze fish to make out a / dinnaire.?’ “We can offer you better fare than that,” said Harlowe, “and she though you can sing ‘amidst all this desolation, we cannov ‘abandon you. This shall be your home ds long.as you choose * te make it so.” “Better leave him aboard the old hulk to starve,{ muttered Totton between his teeth. “I like not this smiling French- wan; he ig too much like that old willain at the Cape, to whom we owé our being in this place.” “Merci, »” responded ‘Gregoire, with a profusion of smiles, gyimaces and ‘shrugs. “You do me too moche honor. [ kiss “your. hands. J haf ze famine in my estomach, and 1. could eat ‘ake it mod’ Tate,” gérunted Chipps; “ "bwouldn’t do to be tao and rum is a cuss. | | “Ha! | was not given the credit of seeing. said he thought it ! passing bits of wreckage, but seeing no more hulks or aban- Glad to see a human being in this out-| adroit questioning, learned all he.wanted to know concerning © / over the left eye to the cheek-bone, which had been left nearly diamonds are both missing!” We are}: horse wiz ze harness on.” ; lemp’rate at eating or drinking to'begin with.’ “'Temp’ranee OY Be wise, and avoid intemp’-} ta A you aré ze great oracle, ze temperance apostle,” said © the Frenchman, with a grin; “one of ze kind who gif ze goot rah advice in ze evening,and in ze morning is blind dronk.” pe “Bilest if he hasn’t hit off old Fatsides this time,” muttered, Merton. “The fellow is sharp enough, I take it. I mush watch him.” TN The morose passenger was not the only one that indulged in. watching that day, for the Frenchman, volatile as he’ seemed,’ did his share of it, and he observed many things which hé Two days passed, during which they slowly drifted along, ;doned ships, though the drift-wood, in all stages of decompo- sition, was piled thick around them. 2 The days were passed in conversation and an occasional bit of fishing; the nights, when they were not asleep, in, singing and story-telling, the Frenchman having an inexhaustible: stock upon which to draw. No watch was kept, as there was no danger of being rin ! down by passing ships in this part of the sea of grass, and ites : | utmost confidence was placed in all by all, no thought of treachery, even on the part of the Frenchman, being en- tertained. The keen-eyed Gregoire had noted the belt of diamonds wo | by Harlowe, and in the course of two or three days he had, by it. His eyes lit with the utmost greed when he looked at Ge though he was careful to conceal his. emotion, and ‘seented to” utterly scorn riches of all sorts since they, could do him no good in such a place. Upon the third night after his coming, thé party : all slept. particularly sound—Van in the cabin, Chipps in the galley,) Merton under the shadow of the rail, well up forward, and Harlowe and Gregoire amidships. 5 The moon shone with great brillianey upon the strange scene, and those on deck kept their faces covered, having the natural fear, common to all sailors, of being made moon-blind or haying their Teatures distorted by the supposed evil in fluence of the goddéss of night. At daybreak Harlowe awoke, and, getting up, called Chipps noticing for the first time that Gregoire was missing. He awoke his companions, but nothing was to be seen of. the Frenchman, nor of the boat which had been left towing — astern when he came aboard the raft. Then a sudden pallor overspread his features, and he put his hand to his waist where:the belt of diamonds was si ie securely fastened. “The diamonds!” he gasped. “They, are gone! | lected my trust, I have allowed'them to be stolen.” “Stolen?” repeated Van, aghast. “Yes, and by that false-hearted Frenchman. I have he He and ithe’ CHAPTER XVII. SERPENT, ; i “Can he have been so base?” said Van. “Of what use will the jewels be in this place?” “The poor fool hopes to get away, as we do,” replied Mer- ton. “It was not enough that we should be in danger of ow lives from infernal machines, shipwreck and storms, hung and thirst, pestilence and heart-sickness, but now we mu have this vile thief come among us and steal that which cannot use.” MES ibe es 8 “All my poor father’s fortune,” said Van. “It was going'to 4 accomplish so much when we got home, and now it is gone.” “T was to’ blame for trusting him,” imterposed Harlowe.. ought to have known better, after what we discovered abou i the. man.” “Even T, with all my crimes, would not have done so co temptible an act,’ muttered Merton under his breath. |“ oe mon gratitude and the sense of our dependence upon one an other, would have restrained me, and I have been. none of thi best. I am bad, but at least Tam not as bad as thaty? “> 6 “Van, my boy, I have ruined you,” continued’ Harlowe,, greatly moved, “and if, by the mercy of God, we ever escape ftom this place, you will be penniless, when but for my ne, Li gence you would have been able to begin the' world bake t brightest auspices. Can you forgive me?” “Say no more about it,” replied: Van, his: voice ehowen wil emotion. “We haye still life and health, and what are compared to these? You cannot buy youth and Reet wy the diamonds in the mines.” Lean “Thats: good mow rate. tal, ia put in’: hi pS, | in all ao tit Tha t about thi THE i
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“Saar ‘FIVE YEARS IN @HE GRASSY SEA? °°) Pt ee ‘that he'd be rayther short o’ breath for a spell, and after that} of a gun, remaining fixed unless pressed in a certain spot. he’d have no further employment for any of the vital sparks, | fishes whose lateral fins ended in round points like toes, and “as thejhist’ry book says.” ; which carried a regular pipe upon their backs, from which } Van could not, help smiling at this sally, and, turning to| vapor was emitted, thus giving them the name of “‘steam- . Harlowe. and grasping his hand, he looked him fondly in the! boats;” fish that angled for their prey, fish that were so trans- face and said in tones of the utmost kindliness and con-| parent that you could see their whole internal organism; all fidence: these were common, and what wonder then that among these “If ever’ we do escape from this weird, unreal place andj curious creatures should appear this hideous monster? reach our beloved homes, believe me, you will never hear a “Take care!” .cried Merton, warningly. “He is about te word of reproach from my lips. But for you I should have} attack us!” , perished a hundred times, and your tender care of me is worth ten times the price of any diamonds that ever sparkled.” » “And the coffee is a bilin’ like to split,” announced Chipps. “1 can’t tell how much longer our supply is goin’ to last, but we've got lots o’ ’baccy left,” “And some seaweeds supply nicotine,” said Van, who had ‘been reading up, “though I never heard of sea coffee, so be Sparing of the fragrant berry, Mr: Chipps, for we can’t pick them from the weed.” “*Tain’t unlikely that we'll run across a ship wi’ a cargo 0’ CHAPTER XVIII. ; ‘THE COMBAT. It was indeed true that the serpent was about to make the attack, having discovered the enemy that had disturbed: him? He rose from the water to a great height, arched his neck,’ rolled his big eyes, and made a sudden dart, as quick as a coffee aboard. ‘Who'd ever thought of meeting them dead | lightning flash, at Van. ar niggers? I’m sure coffee’s more likely than corpses.” Chipps had armed himself with one of the guns taken from). ™ ts “So you've got fish for breakfast, have you?’ remarked Van, | the Vampire, and he fired upon the instant, the bullet striking” pays ‘sitting down; “and crabs, too, as I live, and big fellows. You’ll| the creature upon the neck and glancing off as if from a steel pis ‘be bringing us in a turtle some day.” plate. : f i It turned the creature’s head somewhat, however, and Chipps ttirned it considerably more by delivering the monster a blow hetween the eyes with his clubbed musket. ‘ The worthy man expended.every once of his strength upon the blow, which shattered the stock of the tousket, sending the fragments scattering in all directions and leaving. the barrel in Chipps’ hands. ( ut “Well!” ejaculated the astonished fellow, as he drew back; “the critter scarcely winked at that, but anyhow; he didn’t get + ““"Fraid not, Master Van; they don’t. grow in this part of the **Lantic, as: I ever heard on, unless one might get drifted in while making his way over from Bermuda to the Azores, If I see one, I'll do my best to fish him in, never you fear.” They did not see’a turtle, indeed, but something quite as in- teresting and vastly more exciting; the incident which follows fiving them a good idea of the dangers as well as the deso- lateness of their position. lt was about a week after the disappearance of the thievs ing Frenchman, avd Van, tired of reading, had come out upon | at the boy.” , deck to see if there was anything new to be seen. Van seemed to be the creature’s especial point of attack, as) > “By George! look at this log,”” he cried, leaning over the rail. | though he was perfectly aware that it was the boy who had gg “Tt must be the mast of a big ship.” : first broken his rest, and recovering from his first effort, he “Where is it?” asked Chipps. threw himself once more upon the lad, uttering a savage roar. | “Almost alongside. Ii’s quite long and thick, and covered This time it was Harlowe who came to the resene, driving “with slime or barnacles, I don’t know which.” the boat-hook, which Van had dropped, deep into the frightful “Maybe it’s no good.” - s, creature’s body, causing the red blood to spout out in a per- i “YU try it, anyhow,” and Van got out the boat-hook and } fect stream, and making the monster writhe with agony. jJabbed into the mast with all his might. He drew back and disappeared beneath the waters, which > The effect produced was most marvelous, and totally wnex-| were dyed crimson with his gore, presently coming up again, E pected, re : however, upon the other side of the raft. ; There was a convulsive movement throughout the log, and Again he rallied to the attack, directing his energies against » , then a roar like that of an enraged bull. Van as before, seeming to have an ‘especial antagonism to the » °. Then the water was violently agitated, ,the. floating mass} lad. »| suddenly arose in great folds, and a monstrous head appeared Chipps.and Harlowe rained blow after blow. upon: his head ‘above the water and darted an angry glance all around. and neck, their weapons being clubbed muskets, and again the Great snakes!” cried Van, “what have I stirred up, in the] terrible creature retreated, diving beneath the water, trom ‘name of all that’s marvelous?” which he seemed to gain new vigor, as Anteus did from falling ‘Chipps turned at the sound, and said: upon the earth. ‘ fopr a “Heavens and airth! If 1 was a drinking man I should He arose for the final attack, his eyes seeming to glitter with hink I’d ‘got the horrors!” the deadliest rage and hate, his forked tongue darting forward. ) “Merciful powers! a sea-serpent!” erjed Harlowe, leaping to| and back with lightning-like rapidity, and his tecth and jaws | y. _ bis feet and seizing an ax. covered with a slimy froth that dropped in huge flakes upon © / ye The creature that Van had unwittingly aroused was about! the troubled waters. ‘ ie et ‘seventy-five or eighty feet in length, its tail being bifurcated| .‘“Here’s to end your miserable existence,” hissed Merton; like that of a fish, the flukes being Jong, thin and very pliant, | “the boy’s life is too precious for you to take. .Hé is pérhaps a “its neck sinuous and circled with glittering scales, its body | destined for better things, and I shall at least give him the ~~ thick and muscular, and its head perfectly enormous. chance, provided he ever escapes from this place, to show the” ‘It raised itself in folds, and, gliding over the weed, raised its| metal he is made of.” |) big head and twisted its arched neck around, emitting all the} He thought rather than said this, for he had already raised + while a peculiar hissing or singing noise, a double-barreled gun to his shoulder, and, as the monster, “Its head is as big as a water cask,” said’ Van. darted forward, he fired. ; { /).. “With eyes as big as a bushel,” added Chipps. “My stars! | Crack! \ : ‘what a mouth! He would take in Jonah and his whole family; Crack! , without grunting.” The reports rang out with startling distinctness in that si- Do Mee ” * te ; : > ) Look out!” cried Harlowe, “he will attack us next.” lent place, and for a moment the monster was hidden from The huge monster, whether serpent or not, they did not | yjew by the dense smoke which arose, Merton having crammed ~~ care, seemed more anxious to show. himself just then than to! both barrels full to the muzzle. ty ch ged oe egin hostilities, as he glided. about, now sinking beneath| ‘The recoil neatly took him off his feet, and would have don 1, waves, and then rising and puffing out green streams of | so had not Chipps caught him in his outstretched arms, asthe _ Water and vapor. \ raft rolled and tossed with the motions caused by the dying _.. The body of this huge monster of the deep was of a dark! leviathan. . j Sis iy y green, lighter upon the belly, and mottled with deep brown Both shots had told with fatal effect, for when the smoke. » Spots, flecked here and there with ‘gold upon the back, with | cleared the monster was just disappearing beneath the waves, » >the changing color effect seen in the dolphin. both eyes closed, blood flowing in torrents from hig jaws, arid — | ts head was enormous, the eyes big and prominent, the ibe a s his arched neck wrinkled and shriveled in huge folds, i ; ie aws armed with cruel teeth, and a mane extending from the He sank at once, and the raft glided over the spot where he pst of the nose along the crest of the head down upon the é had disappeared, never to rise again, for that was the last they. saw of him, and glad enough they were, too, for the sight of his” dead body would afford: no particular ‘consolation, now that’ they knew he was dead and quite beyond resurrection. Penny “Brayvo! Mr. Merton,” said Chipps; “ye done well, eate- chise me if ye didn’t, and you have my most-hearifelt and un- © Meated thane hy Ale ict whe as Pe loa ale mee x “Altogether it was a most hideoug-looking thing, and unlike ny fish or animal that Van had ever seen, although since be. in the grassy sea he had come across many curious speci- the finny. tribe. pie at herae Ru ea whose dor; 1s moved up n like the trigger a ay
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_ing for your praises. “And mine,” added Harlowe. “You have acted nobly.” “What I did was for the boy’s sake,’ growled the man, half. petulantly, throwing down his smoking weapon. “I care noth- I am as indifferent to them as to your condemnation.” * “Mr. Merton, I thank you for saving my life,” said Van, putting. his hand into that. of the man, who had rescued him from a horrible death’ “That is all I feel able to say.” “And it is enough,” replied the other, giving the boy’s hand a strong pressure, and turning away his head to hide his emotion. -“I am more satisfied with those simple words than if you had said ten times as much.” Then he released Van’s hand, and, turning away, lay down in | his accustomed spot up forward in the shadow of the rail, and | ‘disposed himself -for a sleep, as though he had done nothing | more unusual than caught a few fishes or eaten his dinner. A week passed, during which the raft made its way slowly | through the water and weed, an occasional light shower oc- | curring, which gave the castaways an opportunity to replenish their stock of water, and you may be sure that it was not neglected. There were no wrecks of any size to be seen, and the rubbish they did come across—broken boats, splintered spars, tops of ships’ houses, planks, ribs and bits of deck timber—were all so} ‘- rotten and water-soaked that no use whatever could be made . while. of them. Now and then they would come upon what may have been a raft, weak and fragile and falling to pieces, with perhaps an! empty water cask aboard, a ragged sail hanging from a mis- érable mast, and fragments of old lashings fluttering in the wind, to show how some poor unfortunates like themselves had been cast upon the waves, and, more for tunate than they, perhaps, had found rest beneath them. These were sad sights, and the party turned from them with heavy hearts, thinking that perhaps theirs would have been a happier lot had they, too, perished, instead of living to float aimlessly about in the sea of grass. “T can’t imagine how the Frenchman manages to live,” said Van, one night, a week after the adventure with the sea-ser- pent. “There are no ships here from which he might possibly obtain supplies, and he had no provisions with him.” “He took a keg of hardtack and a hunk o’ meat as big as his body,” remarked Chipps, “and that would support him forma Perhaps he thinks: he can eal diamonds.” “We is not the first fool that has sacrificed, all for the love of gain,” observed Merton. “Much good may his ill-gotten wealth go him. I wish him no greater harm than that he may repent of his rashness.” “Let us not speak lightly of his misfortune,” “for our own case may be a desperate one yet.” That night, after the others had gone to sleep, Harlowe and Chipps sat side by. side in the galley, not speaking, for their said Harlowe, '. tobacco had given out, when Chipps said suddenly: “Did you guess how near you came to the truth to-mwight?” /‘What do you mean?” “We haven't got ay enough to last a month.” CHAPTER XIX, THE RENCOUNTER. A month has passed, and the castaways are without food, ex- cept such as the sea can afford them, and that is little enough, the fish being scarce and hard to catch, the crabs insufficient to support four hearty persons, and the prospect of obtaining food slight enough. There is water in abundarice, so that there is not the horri- ble fear of thirst before them, but water will not support life indefinitely, though water alone is better than food’ alone, and death again stares them in the face. ‘While there remained an ounce of food, Van had an abun- dance, Harlowe eating but little that the boy might have a sufficiency, but carefully concealing until the last the fact that there was so little. Merton, too, denied himself, drinking Jarge quantities of water, which no one begrudged him, and submitting? uncom- vi plainingly to his‘lot, his manner having considerably altered ‘for the better in the last few weeks. ‘But at last starvation threatened, and ihe prospect looked ‘gloomy indeed, for-in such a place it was-only by the merest providence that they would be able to find anything to eat, the chances being small, as what vessels did float into this waste * had’ been already abandoned, and the syipplies taken off! ‘Day succeeded day, night followed night, and still no sign _ of food, the poor castaways growing daily more thin and hag- gard, their pale end sunken cheeks, their glittering eyes and vasted limbs telling too piainly that the a hand of death FIVE YHARS IN HE GRASSY SEA, The air was hot and dry, too, for they were in the very midst of the calm belt, and at a time when there was little chance of outside influences penetrating to their retreat. ps Famine was now added to the list of the perils which as- a sailed them, and it threatened to prove a more powerful foe a than any they had met with. e This condition of things could not last forever and unless a 7 change came there was but one ending—death by starvation. ; Wor a week they were entirely without food, being kept alive by copious draughts of water, which promised to last long after they were all dead. It is my pleasure to record a change, however, and I pass from these terrible scenes to others more agreeable to read of, ne lives of these four being destined to be saved for better lings. | On.the eighth day after the last morsel of food bad given out a breeze suddenly and unaccountably sprang up, the waters \ being tossed into foamy billows, and the weed rolling about and piling up in great masses . The raft was carried throu; zh the water at a good speed, and ¢ the change in the motion and temperature of,the air was de-> | cidedly beneficial to the castaways. They seemed to imbibe new life from the salt air, and their cheeks were actually flushed with healthy color. ; The sun set in a bank of clouds, and soon after dark a most , refreshing rain storm fell, Chipps not neglecting to catch as ~~ }much of the ‘hi a as possible, even though he was dying of | hunger. Night came on, a few stars twinkled from «between the ' clouds, and the slender crescent of the new moon could be seen through the thin masses of vapor which partly obseured it. out Tle hours passed, the moon set, the skies were cvershad- |; owed, a thick darkness prevailing, through which it was im- ~ | possible for the eye to penetrate. ai Merton, of all the little company, was awake, seated on the rail, his head. vesting on his hands, his eyes fixed upon the ~./ darkness, his thoughts wandering, and his lips unconsciously - murmuring a prayer for relief. : The others wererall asleep, nature having, been merciful to them and given them at least that precious boon, for while | they slept no distressing thoughts of the morrow visited them and they dreamed only of pleasant things.’ re: Suddenly Merton raises “his head, peers forth into the dark } ness, bends his head and listens with the most rapt attention. ~ | Could he be dreaming, or’ were those actual sounds he heard © coming across the dreary waste of waters w bse startling dis-) | tinctness? { , They were words which, from hearing often, he had learned to know, although they were in a foréign tongue. What he heard ‘was a fragment of a French chansonette, which he had often heard Gregoire singing: “J'ai trois castelleS dans la plaine, : ae Devieus en la chatelaine; ta Je suis plus riche qu’un roi j Eh bien, ta resille.” There the song suddenly ceases, the singer being either dis- turbed or not caring to. indulge his musical propensities any — further, having been merely singing a few odd snatches. om “It is that accursed Frenchman,” muttered. the listener. “So we have found him againcat last?» This time he shall not es- cape me.” Cheat Then the man procured a sharp knife from the galley and) stuck. it in his belt, lying down in the shadow of the rail, and 7 appearing. to be fast asleep. e. Shimber did not visit his eyelids for hours, howeyer, and meanwhile the raft. drifted along in the darkness, the faint swish of the waters being now the only sound that could be heard. He After a long time there came a gentle shock against the bow of the raft, which aroused Merton, but did not awaken his. — companions. He raised himself upon one elbow cautiously, and_raised his ‘ eyes to the level of the rail. . ; A dark mass obseured his vision, and he put forth one hand, fe at the same time raising his eyes. : He could see a dark outline, which he knew from long prec: : tice was the hull of a vessel, had not his touch assured him al- ready that such was the case. He listened attentively, and hearing no sound, arose to his feet and ran his hand along the planks for some, distance as high as he could reach. i Then he stood upon the rail and moved his hands back and forth, presently coming across something which seats ‘to. give him considerable satisfaction. He had touched the fore-chains of the stray vessel, and, 1 twisted, but still in their places, Grasping the ends of the halyards jwith: b
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FIVE YEARS IN THE GRASSY SEA. ate right foot and then the left against the side, and continuing to pull himself upward until he reached the planksheer. He quickly threw one leg over. the rail, and, stepping lightiy upon the deck, looked around him. ; A lantern was burning in the cabin, the light being dis- “tinetly seen through the open door, and adding greatly to the weirdness of the scene. He walked up and down the deck with the lightness of a cat, and, seeing no one, descended into the cabin. There, upon a swinging bed in the main cabin, lay extended the form of the villainous Frenchman, wrapped in a profound slumber. “T will not kill even this viper in his sleep,” muttered the man,-and then he shook the alee pet roughly, and awaited his awaking. ‘ = CHAPTER XX. THE AVENGING. “Wake up!” cried Merton, again shaking the sleeper. Gregoire turhed, opened his eyes, rubbed them, apd then half raised hituself, and, as if doubting the aceuracy of his vision, stared in a frightened way at the man before him. “Mon Dieu! Haf I been dreaming, then?” he muttered. “You may have been,’ answered Merton, “but you are not now. Do you know me?” “Sacre lleu! It is not M’sieur Mairtone! take! Zis fs ue pleasaire extreme. How you do? , not expect you.” art! He arose, and then stepped out upon the floor, when Merton, _ drawing his knife, and holding it so that the light fell upon its glittering blade, said: “Aye you atmed? You, and I have an account to settle. Where are the diamonds you stole?” I am not mis- Sapristi, I “Diamants! Of what use are diamants in ze grass? I have zem not.” . “Liar! Give them to me. Whether you do or not, I am go- ; ing to have your life. Do you understand that, you villain?” Vi “We sall see,” muttered the other, drawing a knife from 5 some place of concealment in his berth. “No man sall take my life eef I do not choose to gif it. En garde, sacre animal!” ' “Ha, you will fight, then?” said Merton: “I was afraid vou + would not,” and he at once threw himself into an attitude of =; defense. ft The Hrenchman made the, first advances, his eyes glittering With rage, his jaws firmly set, and every muscle nerved for action. He made a savage lunge at Merton, which the latter parried, _ tje two blades sending forth a shower of sparks as they . clashed together. |. Again the Frenchman advanced, cutting open Merion’s left cheek, but receiving an ugly wound in the side to pay for it. z After a few more struggles the two clinched, Gregoire en- _deavoring to throw. his opponent to the deck of the cabin. Merton’s knife fell from his fingers, and with a clever movement the Frenchman tripped him and both fell to the deck, Gregoire on top. 7 He disengaged his right hand, and, raising it aloft, aimed a savage blow at Merton’s heart. The latter suddenly wrenched his left arm free from the pressure of the Frenchman’s knee, and in an instant he had seized the knit® by the handle. Suddeniy twisting his adversary’s arm with a force that nearly broke it, he turned the point, of the knife toward the _ Frenchman’s own body, and, throwing all his force into the ef- fort, plunged it up to the hilt in Gregoire’s heart. . The man fell back, bleeding profusely, and in an instant Merton had recovered his own knife, which lay not far away. again and again through the Frenchman’ § heart, and only de- ' sisted when too faint to strike another blow. Yhen he searched the body, and, finding nothing of any par- ticular value upon it, dragged it gn deck, weak as he was, and - hurled it overboard. Then descending ‘and taking down the lantern, Merton he- gan exploring the cabin, making for the steward’s pantry the first thing, as if by instinct. ‘There, to his great joy, he found a quantity of cooked food, some cold coffee and a tumbler half full of grog. This he emptied at a gulp, and without waiting to set the ings out upon. the table, attacked the fond ravenously, wash- _ ing it down with the coffee. Tt was very fortunate that there was not much in the pantry, * he wonld certainly have killed himself..a hearty meal alter ; late fast being ine waa thing ae could indiwige in, “little ‘aboye the other, he drew himself up, first bracing the | Thep, to make sure of his work, he drove the keen blade | He became drowsy after this, and: throwing himself into the berth lately occupied by the Frenchman, was ‘soon fast asleep, | giving no thought of his comrades. Fortunately the raft and the ship drifted along together during the night, and when Van awoke and came out he saw the black hull towéring above him, and awoke -his come E with a shout: : They at once discovered that Merton was missing, and suy- posed at once that he must be aboard the vessel, the name © which—Good Luck—they could see upon the quarter. . “It will be good luck, indeed, for us,’’ said Harlowe, “if thes {are any provisions aboard. She seems to have been ahzns - coned in good condition, her masts being nearly all standiig "> “Hey, you, Merton!” cried Chipps. “Where are you?” | As he spoke the man came on deck, looked over the rail, and said: “Like the dog I was, I forgot all about you. Here is a line; make fast and come up. I'll drop a ladder for you.’ ‘ape In a few moments they were all-on board, and Harlowe, de - scending into the run, found a keg of hard-tack opened. He was wise enough not to eat too much at first, and his first | care was to see that Van had something to eat. Upon a hasty examination, it was seen that there were plenty oi provisions aboard, a large quantity of canned goods being, stowed away in the hold and in the run. Some cans’ of beef soup were first ‘attacked, and Ghipps, — ighting a fire in the galley of the Good Luck, prepared a ‘nn- © tritious bowl of soup, which greatly restored the strength of the castaways. In the cabin were fouird ‘several skeletons, which Merton looked upon with superstitious dread, muttering something. : about not daring to Stay aboard the ship. : Harlowe spoke up, however, and said, cheerily: “Phere is no need of our being alarmed because there are. skeletons hare. They cannot hurt us. The ship is stanch and sound, there is food enough to last us for years evith proper care, and we shail have a shelter over our heads when stor ms arise, or when the sun is too hot.” Two or three days passed, during which the four compani ions regained considerable: strength, Harlowe having found some wine aboard, which he administered in small quantities, keep- ing the key of the closet in-his own pocket, much to the disgust of the temperate Chipps, who would have liked to get jolly drunk. : When another week had pas sed Merton revealed the seeret . of Gregoire’s death, Van having been puzzled to account for % the fresh blood-stains on the deck, A careful search revealed the belt of diamonds hidden away - in the mattress upon which Gregoire had slept, and Harlowe once more took possession of them. The raft was relieved of such things as would be of value to the party, Chipps making a secret trip one night and carrying © aboard what looked like two small kegs, though, as no one saw him, I may be mistaken. The raft was left towing astern, for it was an old friend, ~ the party did not like to abandon it, and, besides, it might be . of great use to them subsequently. : One morning, however, Van’ came on deck and found that | they were in quite a good-sized patch of open water, looking. like a lake in the midst of a meadow. ; Suddenly he noticed a bit of chafed rope dangling over the» rail, and, darting a sweeping glance all around, cried out, as he ~ made an alarming discovery: ; “Our raft has broken adrift, and is nowhere to be seen!” tt } } + ; CHAPTER XXI. THE BATTLE. It is now a year and’a half since the castaways entered the, grassy sea, and there seems to be no more chance of their get’ ting out of it now than there was at first—if anything less. The Gopd Luck proved to have an appropriate name froni the start, for there was food in abundance, books for Van," nautical instruments for Harlowe, clothes for Merton and. supplies. of all kinds for Chipps, so that the loss of the, raft, which had drifted away, was not so serious a one apparently, as was at first thought. The only thing they lacked was sails, and the qrhereenene to make them, for they could have rigged up jury masts an made some headway, although the steering gear was badly: broken, had they had any’ canvas to put upon them... — It was better than the raft, however, for there was shelt when it rained, and when the sun beat too. fiercely, and night they could all oe in the re aud. peri biane e in many ways. on , :
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FIVE YEARS A T ‘abl wart rh has THR GRASSY SEA. things. which were of use to him, and at the end of six months - the boy was as good a navigator as his instructor. ~~ The puzzling thing in the affair was that the ship should have keen abandoned in such good condition, for there was ’ Hothing in the log to show either sickness or even bad weather, though it was evident from the shattered masts that the vessel ‘had gone through some very heavy gales. The castaways did not puzzle themselves much about the matter, seeing that nothing was to be learned, and they ac- eepted the home which Providence had sent them without ask- ing any unanswerable questions. of sea and sky, floating weed and drifting wreckage presenting itself in turn day after day and month. after month, but in “spite of ali this they led a happy life and never once had a quarrel. ~~ Yan used. to amuse them evenings by giving recitations, . there being several books of plays and poems in his collec- tion, and as he had a good voice and graceful, manly presence, ‘those exhibitions were a source of great delight to all, even the “taciturn Merton giving his approval. “That's all very fine,” said Chipps one night, after Van had read some of jolly Jack Falstaff’s drunken harangues, “but if ‘'that ‘ere Mr. False Staff had let licker alone, he’d ’ve been _ twice the man he was.” “How do you make that out?” asked Harlowe, ‘laughing. ‘Well, rum is a cuss and ruins thousands; it builds jails and Tunatic hospitals; it makes lawyears and judges rich; it sows misery and dissensions among the hull civilized world, and even the semi-barbarous not-to-be-mentionéd heathen tribes of Airica, whfch they don’t wear nothing, more shame to ’em, when the good missionaries send ’em. ship-loads of overcoats and woolen. mufflers every year, to say nothing of pocket hand- “kerchiefs, even. they will go off on a thunderin’ tear cnce in @ ‘way and get bilin’. ‘ “Tf it wash’t for rum there’d be policemen among the Hot- tentots.to club the life out of ’em when they got drunk, but / it's. such a cuss. that all the police are needed in civilized places to help take care o’ rum’s victims. . “f wish to opine and asserverate most distinctively that rum \ ‘is a cuss and a blight, arid that ten men out of every nine that + ¢onimit crime does it on that account. Why, if General Napo- ) Icon hada’t taken a glass of hot whisky toddy just before the - hattle of Waterloo, he wouldn’t have been licked! ' “Just see the retribution what followed his yielding to his “passion for the cup that don’t inebriate but cheers. No, no, ‘Tive got that wrong; I should -have said what inebriates but doesn’t intoxicate. “Look at the retribution, I say, which followed his yielding to temptation and whisky toddy. He was put onto an island, ' where there wasn’t nothing but water all-around him, Just to ‘show what he deserved ‘for taking all licker. He oughter have mixed his drinks better, and then this condign and unmiti- gated punishment wouldn't ’ve been meted out to him. i * “hook At Hannibal again: ef he hadn’t taken a hot rum be- ' fore crossing the Alps, the Rum’uns would ha’ had no effect on him, This is all hist’ry, and the picter-books will tell you the ; “THe old man will be as drunk as an owl to-morrow morn- ins, whispered Harlowe to Van, as Chipps walked out ofthe cab im: ‘ ' The boy was about to reply, when there came a sudden sound like the booming of cannon. ‘Thunder,” said Merton, quietly. NDS ea sound like it,” replied Harlowe, quickly. ‘Tes Boom! ‘Boom! q “Crash! ‘Tt is the sound of cannon,” cried Van in great excitement; who can have penetrated to this waste?” 1 explosion louder than all the rest sounded at this mo- _ ment, and the three rushed upon deck at once to discover the ‘meaning of the strange sound. Shipps was already there; and pointing over the ‘starboard Bhs hore the heweomers saw a bright red. light, he cried: ‘It’s a blasted pirate ship, and they’re having the fiend’s n time aboard her. They’re fighting like mad.” ; » By. the bright light ahead of them they could, plainly see.a i nder full ‘sail, or ee least with all her sails up;-though fof the cannonading and the rush of the combatants, drifted - | gle?” mused artopes CHAPTHR XXII. ‘THE PIRATE. ” Chipps had spoken aright when he declared that the ae i vessel was a pirate, for above the glare of the fire, illumined. by the pale moon, was the dreaded black flag, with its terrible skull and crossbones in glittering white upon the sable field. ' : The vessel was near enough for the castaways to see all that occurred upon her decks, a fierce red.light upon the poop | casting a glare over the whole scene as though it had been Their life was without incident, the same dreary monotony } bathed in blood. Well might one think so, for blood flowed like water, making | the decks red and slimy, and running from the scuppers in a crimson fiood. “ High on the quarter deck stood the figure of a man who ce could be taken for no one else but the captain of the pirate “ crew -himself, his tall, commanding form and majestic bearing raising him at once above the common herd, and his lordiv bearing bespeaking him the leader. is His ringing voice as he urged on his adherents, theré being +f an evident division among the forces, could be heard above: all. ae din of battle, and wherever he struck a man was sure to a : The men seemed to fight like so many fiends, the main deek being covered with one struggling, surging mass of comba- tants, and how the men of either party were able to distinguish friend from foe in the contusion was‘ a mystery. Boom! ; The cannon belched forth their fiery contents, seattering the bristling missiles among the combatants and mowing a bloody swathe across the decks, while above the red light burned brightly, and, showed some new scene of horror every moment. “Cut down the villains!” roared the pirate chief. “Charge them, my own, and hurl their putrid carcasses into the sea!” To and fro, forward and back, from side to side, and from the poop to the forecastle surged the angry mass, steel clash- ing with steel, pistols flashing, cutlasses cutting their way through flesh and bone, pikes, capstan-bars and every other conceivable weapon flourishing about, while man alter man ~ fell dead or wounded, the contestants fighting on, heedless of the dead, and seeming to care for nothing but the total anni; hilation. of the whole crew. The sails caught fire from the discharge of the cannon, and as the flames rushed upward a fiery shower fell upon the decks, adding a new’terror to the fearful scene. “God sr ant that they do not drift too near us,” sihilivaneeaie Harlowe, “for if our ship is burned, what hope have we for a shelter in this: frightful place?” The pirate vessel, all ablaze and quivering with the shock past. the Good Luck et a safe distance, while the uipate tbe called out: “Ho, there, ye mystic Swell ers in this region of deniiht Cunt a spell over my enemies and drag them down to your: deadly caves to rot and be accursed!” Harlowe said nothing, and now the red light seemed to ne extinguished as. a cloud of flame burst up from the hold and drove back the blood- ais creatures, though the feyyne ess not cease for an instan ‘ Suddenly the pirate Sci disappeared, the famies seemed to wrap the vessel in a perfect shroud of fire, the thick, black — smoke hanging like‘a pall over it all, and from the centre. Of p ane the blazing mass a sheet of living fire shot upward to he es heavens. Then there came a frightful report- which cased the waves to leap up in angry billows, dashing the spray high in air,’ and when the smoke and mist cleared away, not one trace of i the pirate ship remained. “The cusses have chawed each other all up like two. Kik- kinny cats,” said Chipps, “and I do not prevaricate when bY af firm that not even the tails is left.” i “There are none ieft to tell the tale, at all events,” 58 4 Harlowe. “1 will wager a good gallon o’ wine that rum was the cause on it all; and if you could arrive at the facts, 1 would venture to sug) zest that you would find that those freebooting Duc: eaneers had been haying a high old time just previous to disturbance. Hp tell you, rum is a cuss. Just lod effects,” : seas of pirates,” said Naps “and I should oe obliged to blessing:in. disguise,’ a shall forever cling to this manteg: crew? "he their name will
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at >! : ss Metta jain a FIVE: ¥ EARS "There is some commotion yonder in the water,” said Mer- ton, “Something is swimming toward us.” “A shark, most likely,” said Chipps. “No, no, it is not a shark.” “Tt is.a man,” said the lad. . “Impossible!” replied Harlowe, quickly. have lived after that explosion.” “Tt is a fish of some kind.” “No, it is a man, I say,” ee “Nonsense!” a “Hail it, Van,’ said Merton, quietly. "3 i “Don't ye do it!” cried Chipps, aghast. Jones hisself!’’, “Aail him, Van.” F “Shall I, Mr. Harlowe?” j z \ “Tf you like.” ‘The boy proceeded to the rail, and, looking toward the round object that was floating toward them, appearing just above the Bi, water, he shouted in ringing tones: Bie “Ahoy, there! If you are human, speak! you?” { Hardly. had the words. died away before the answer came clear and distinct from the water: “Tam human, at least, whether you are or not.” sel is that?” “The Good Luck. Come aboard.” “Whither bound?” ! “Where the Lord of the tempest wills.” E . “If he is a devil, that'll settle him sure,” grunted Chipps, ' “for them:fellows can’t stand no such talk as that.” Far from being a spirit, however, the swimmer proved to be a@ man, and in a few minutés he clambered, up the side and / |. stood, all wet and dripping, upon the deck. be “You have come in good time,” he said, in a voice that.quiv- ered with emotion, “for I had given myself up for lost.” Van started at the sound of the voice, and drew back, for in the stranger he at once recognized the pirate*captain. “No man could “Tt may be old Davy Whence came What ves- (i <7, os ag CHAPTHR XXIII. ’ THE “Don't be afraid, boy,” said the pirate chief; Harm you; my fighting days are over.” “Tt am not afraid; I was merely surprised.” , “At seeing me alive after that terrible explosion? ‘Well, it is a lucky thing that I leaped overboard just before it hap- pened. { thought. that that would be the end of it.” “You are wounded,” said Van, seeing clots of-blood upon the man’s uniform “Yes, but it matters not; before.” “You choose a singularly appropriate name, NARRATIVE. “IT will not Captain Moloch has lost blood ” » would have been better yet.” ' “Wa! ha! you know me, I see,” replied the man, with a fierce laugh. ‘A merry life mine has been, and I am sorry to lose my beautiful Nemesis. That was the name of my ship.” ‘ “Have you never imagined that a Nemesis was pursuing you?” asked Merton, in grave tones. “You have changed for the worse since I last saw you, Jack Hazard.” “Who calls me by that name?” cried the pirate, starting. “Ha, Matt: Merton, is it you?” he added, coming forward and looking the man in the face. “Yes, it is, indeed. What have you been doing since you and I roamed the bush together in Australia, Matt?” “Much the same a3 ever, though lately Ishave changed. The old life has no charm for me now, and I shall end my days in this wilderness, an honest man.” “Are you two individuals acquainted, might I ask?” said Chipps. _ “I, should say we were,” laughed Captain Moloch. “Why, we “yoamed the bush together, got in and out of jail together, cracked the same cribs, knocked the same men, on the head, were regular pals until I took to the sea, and Matt skipped over to Africa to try his luck at robbing the diamond seekers.” +, “I Rave abandoned all that,” said Merton; “pray let, it be “| forgotten.” “Why were your men fighting?” asked Harlowe, changing the subject, seeing that Merton was pained at the ba of om these bitter remembrances. “Why?” asked the captain, shaking his dripping banat and sitting upon the rail. “Because some of the villains smutined, that’s why. JI will tell you all about it. ii -.. “We were chased by a beast of a frigate, and I ran into the argasso to get rid of them, knowing that they would not fol- “me in such a detestable hole. \“Having once got in, the: bequbis. was, to get ont if Chine ec muttered Har- |’ lowe, “though if you had called yourself Satan or Belial it] . Moloch will yet hey ea anassy SBA. Oats winds were bafiling, Ghent there were any at all, and the weeks followed one another on the slowest kind of feet, panic still’ we stuck. “We passed a boat containing three skeletons, and the men. looked upon it as a bad sign, and began to growl and thfeaten. For very deviltry I lowered a boat and brought the skeletons aboard, and set ’em on deck, just to spite oe superstitious wretches. “Who the men were I could not tell, but the name upon the +7 stern of the boat was ‘Snowflake, fromn——— ” : “Just as I said,’ spoke up Chipps. “I told Skipper North that he would want the food he chucked overboard, and irre a fearful death was in store for him.” 7 “They had died of starvation, I suppose, for there was no food nor water in the boat, and the thwarts were stained with blood.” “There was the end of as big a villain as ever walked, for I haven’t no doubt that his skeleton was one of ’em. He had done crimes enough to sink a ship, and even the boy, poor little © Davy, would have nothing to do with him.” “You knew him?” said Moloch. “Slightly,” and Chipps winked at his companions, haying already told them the history of Captain North and the loss of | the Snowflake... “Him and me was old pals, and we loved each «, other so,much that we tried to put a whole ocean between us. So old North is dead? Well, I told him he’d die a wretched | death, and his poor victims are at last avenged.” “To finish my story,’ continued the captain, “I brought the skeletons aboard, where they remained for several days, no one daring to disturb them; but at last my second omeak, more daring than the rest, hurled them into the sea. “The men declared that I had brought them here to. die, that - I.cast a spell upon the vessel, and until I died there would be no luck for them. “The crew were about evenly divided for and against me; : and after a few aggressive acts upon the part of the malcon- © tents, we came to an Gpen rupture, “Rallying my own around me, I lit a red light, ran up my flag and-charged the cut-throats, resolving to utterly exter- minate the dogs. ‘ “The fight was long and bitter, as you saw; and though we raked our foes with the cannon, they cut my men down like weeds. “The sight of your vessel caused new terror to “the super- stitious villains, as they thought it was the Mying Dutchnian, or some such ill-omened craft, and they fought more desper- ately than ever, lest they should all be carried down. } “I saw that there was no hope for us, and my first officer - volunteered to go below and throw a torch into the magazine, © to blow up the whole ship. AN “J eared nothing for him, my own life being of more ac- count to me than his; and when he had departed I jumped © overboard, resolving to save my own life at all events. “J sank beneath the mass of weed, and, diving deep, swam 9 beneath the water until I reached a clear space, where t arose just as the last crash took place. “The waters surged over me and I dived again, coming up not far from some vessel, which I struck out for, and was close ~~ at hand when you discovered me. That is all I have to tell. The Nemesis is gone and I still live, though what chance there : is for excitement in this horrible place I don’t know. : “My usual luck will bear me out,'I suppose, and Captalas plow the seas once more, and, standing on his quarter deck with the black flag. floating over his head, will t Nei yet carry dismay to the hearts of his enemies!” at fThere’s a flag what heats your dirty black rag all) to bits,” said the old cook, coming out of the cabin at that in- stant, and, unfurling the glorious stars apd stripes, he wave! it over the pirate’s head. Bef Merton was visibly affected, and said with considerable 635) feeling: I “Ah, Jack, it had been better that you had retained your al legiance to that old flag, and you might, now be an honorable!” man and the commander of some brave frigate in your ¢own- 7 try’s service.” © a “The rover’s life for me,” cried Moloch, adding gravely: Carats “Put up the old flag, for though I have never fired upon it 1 4 cannot bear ‘the sight’ of its crimson stripes and Slittering ' stars.. Fold it away, for the sight of it unmans me.) 2 CHAPTER XXIV. Ree t : THE ATTACK. ‘ (taney Jack Eean, or Captain Moloch; as he had been eattbae re mained,aboardi the Good ‘Luck, for, although he was ‘cleari! not the best sort of companion. for a man to have,. Harlo could not refuse him a bra and he made one Of the lit
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anything. are with us we have none.” privation. fs Day ; secure the diamonds. HIVE -YHARS IN ‘THE GRASSY ag : f o] SEA. company, and did his share of the Sante what Hettle there was | sary passengers, and stand a better chance for getting out of * to do. The instinct of lawlessness was strong within him, however, and Van often saw him look with longing eyes upon the helt of diamonds which Harlowe still carried, as if he would like to possess them. / Two or three months passed away, and by the observations which Van had taken, the ship was nearing the, northwestern edge of the Sargasso, though upward of five hundred miles still intervened before they could reach the open water, and ‘even then, without sails, they would still be at the mercy of the current. It was night, and very dark, and Van had gone to sleep in the shadow of the starboard rail, the cabin being too close for him, when he became conscious that some one was talking near him, the words being of dangerous import. He gradually awoke, and, hearing certain phrases which told him that mischief was afoot, lay perfectly still, scarcely aaring to breathe, and listening to the conversation. The speakers were Merton and Hazard, and unaware of his presence, on account of the darkness, had taken up a position upon the rail directly over his head, their dangling heels swinging just a few inches above him: He dared not move for fear of attraching their attention, and the conversation was one which it was most important for him to hear, as the lives of all might depend upon the knowledge he would thus obtain. ‘You are surely not afraid, Matt?” said Hazard. “It will not - be the first time you have knocked your man on the head.” “Tt’s not that, but his béing a friend of mine since I have known him, and I cannot do it.” : “You needn’t strike the blow. the diamonds.” “Then we will have to leave the vessel.” “And share the fate of the Frenchman you told me of. No, the ship must be ours. We can spare the cook, for he is a harmless sort of fellow, and will do as we say.” “Don’t be mistaken about him,” replied Merton. fight like a lion, and will stand no nonsense.” “Wm! Give him’ rum enough and he’ll be all right. keeps it in the galley, hidden under the seat. I’ve seen him go and get blind drunk after having delivered one of his long lectures. Keep him drunk, and he is perfectly safe.” “But the bey, I cannot kill him. No, no, Jack, give up this mad scheme. Of what use are the diamonds to us in this place?” .- “Do you want to die here?” “No? as “Do you want to escape?” s*Yes; ” “Do you know that five men eat more than two?” “Ves. ” IV’ do that, and you ean take “Phen if these three are sou of our way there is more for us, _ ds there not?” “es: ” “Suppose that we are rescued in six months. The food on board will last us five men about three months, rather less, if _If we two are alone we have some hope; if they “You don’t know that, we will be rescued in six months.” _ “We must drift out by that time, and once on the edge there is more chance of getting in the track of vessels than there is _ here. 4 GUD 5h = eae “What is it, life or death?” »“hife.” “And the diamonds?” “They will be ours, of course.” + “And we shall return rich, we who have known poverty and T will purchase a small vessel, take a trusty crew and, skimming the seas, capture one. to my taste, and be a rover once more.’ is “And did a felon’s death.” “No, I will die upon the quarter-deck, with the bullets whiz- zing about me: my good sword in hand and the bodies of my. foes at my feet.” “Give up the idea of the pirate’s life when you are safe.” ' “Putting that aside, we must live and’ they must die. There ds not enough for us all. Harlowe sleeps in the inner cabin j with his door locked. A Yes. ” “We will attack Chipps, and the boy will give the alarm. Harlowe will come out, and then the coast.is clear.” | ie ewell?” “You can then enter the cabin from the quarter-deck and T kill aa you wound the boy, and Chipps Laan | “He can | He! our troubles.” “But. Harlowe is armed.” “With a knife, yes; but, not with a pistol, as you and I. I have put the guns'in a sate place, and you and I are the only ones aboard that are thoroughly provided for an emergency,’ “You seem to be determined upon this measure?” “Yes, for our lives depend upon our immediate action.” “When will you strike?” “Now.” “So soon?” “Yes, for they are all asleep. Let us take the cook first.” Now was the time for action, and Van quickly ‘wormed him- self along the deck and sprang to his feet just as the two plot- ters leabed down from their perch. “Confusion!” yelled Hazard. “We are discovered. has heard all; Up, and cut him down!” “Shoot him!” cried Merton. “That is the quickest way.” Crack! Crack! Two pistol shots rang out;upon the still air, but Van had by that time descended the stairs leading to the cabin, narrowly escaping being hit by the flying bullets. He ran at once to Harlowe’s room, upon the door, shouted lustily: “Wake up, or there will be murder done! up!” “Curse him!” hissed Hazard. The boy and, pounding loudly Wake up—wake “We must stop his noise or ; our plans will fail.””, He rushed into the cabin, but Chipps had been awakened by the pistol shots, and was just coming out of his room as Haz- ard entered. He seemed to know that something was wrong, for wai one i blow of his brawny fist he felled Hazard to the deck, saying: “Lie there, you immod’rate cuss, and, as for: you, Matt Mer- ton, if you don’t behave yourself, I'll chuck ye over to give the sharks a meal.” 1 Merton made one bound, and, seizing’ Van by the throat, threw him to the deck, and was about to finish him with a blow when the door of Harlowe’s cabin flew open, and the man rushed out, half dressed. Seeing the state of affairs he sprang upon Merton, and grap- pled with him just as Hazard came rushing up+with a pistol in his hand ready to strike him a cowardly blow from hehind, CHAPTER XXV. ‘ THE REPULSE. Van had been thrown down, and was too weak from the choking given him by Merton to be of any present assistance to his comrades. Harlowe was struggling desperately with the two villains, who seemed determined to kill him, both being desperate men and having the utmost at stake. Hazard was bad from natural instincts, and would have been willing enough to engage in such an éncounter without any particular reason, but Merton having once taken this step, had everything to lose if he failed. If Harlowe succeeded, and he lived, his position among his former associates would be a most unenviable one. They would always regard him with suspicion, even if they gave him his liberty, and he could hope for no such pleasant in- tercourse as he had had with them, being thenceforth isolated and alone. It was, therefore, all or nothing’ with him, and he fought with the utmost desperation, and more like a wild beast than a human being. He was on one side and Hazard on the other, the latter watching his chance to get in a blow, the contestants twisting sag oan tg so much that he was afraid of hitting Merton it e fire Merton suddenly forced Harlowe up against the partition and held him there, thus giving the former pirate a chance, which he quickly sought to improve. Chipps was on hand, however, trigger, he struck his hand and ‘threw it up. Crash! The bullet flew through the eae | of the skylight, leaving Harlowe uninjured. Whack! Chipps struck out with his huge fist, and, taking, the wretch under the ear, sprawléd him upon the floor all in a bunch. He then turned his attention to Merton, whom he disarme in an instant, Harlowe assisting him, and before the man knew_ it he was pushed into one of the smaller rooms and lock Harare had sprung 40, his feet by this time, and came celeste = and as the villain pulled the
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BPIVE, SEARS IN eyes fairly blazing and his teeth set firmly together. Chipps seized the uplifted arm by the wrist, and the two men clenched, reeling backward and forward, both trying to get the advantage, and neither succeeding. Suddenly, however, Hazard tripped over the lower step of the flight leading: on deck, and fell, his arm doubling under him and the knife penetrating-his side, cutting deep into the left lung: He grew limp in an instant, his hand relaxing its grasp upon the knife, and the blood gushing in a perfect torrent from his mouth. By the time Chipps had arisen and Harlowe had procured a light, the man was dead and lying in a pool of his,own blood, ‘his face still distorted with evil passions and his left hand ' just clutching at the knife-handle as if to draw it from the wound. \ . ‘Well, that disposes of him,” remarked Chipps. “He has died by his own hand at last, and all for not being mod’rate. How did the thing begin, anyhow?” Yan then repeated the substance of the conversation he had heard. and the whole matter was made clear. “We are very fortunate in escaping so well,” Harlowe re- » marked. “I feared all along that this man would regain the ‘influence over Merton that he once had, and ipduce him to _ commit some desperate act.” ". “He was a bad one from foundation to turret,” observed Chipps. “See how he blowed up his ship and deserted his fel- - lows, all to save his own blessed life. I’H venture to suggest. and I don’t think I prevaricate, that if these two wretches had got hold of the ship, that this one would have managed, some time, to dispose of Merton so as to have everything his own. way.” ' “What are we going to do with him?” asked Van. > “With Merton?” . “No, but this dead pirate.” *“T will answer at once without needless circumlocution and / With great moderation,” replied Chipps, and shouldering the lifeless body he went upon deck. - There was a splash, and when Van and Harlowe reached “their comrade’s side he was standing by the rail unencum- bered, looking over into the water as calmly as though watch- ving the gambols of a school of porpoises. “If we'd done that with him in the first place we’d ’ve been oh ait right,” muttered the pleased cook. “Now we can get along , together more mod’rate, I expect, though there’s that Merton, I’m afraid he’ll be as much 4 cuss to us as rum is to the world.” “What can we do with him?” asked Harlowe. _ “Don’t know as we can chuck him overboard, nor can we let him free. It’s as tough as the temp’rance question, hang me -if it isn’t. Reminds me of a case down in Jersey, and as the _ moral’s a good one I'll tell it. “There was old Deacon Hardtack, what had such a taste for / Yum that his butcher’s and‘ baker’s bills didn’t amount to nothin’. He fairly: lived on rum. See the cuss of the stuff, cheatin’ a man out of a honest livin’. If it hadn’t been for rum, the butchers and bakers would ha’ prospered, for the deacon was an awful eater previous'to getting religion, which Was about the time he began to drink. i . “Wull, leavin’ the deacon aside, rum is a cuss, and, allegor- Al: ically speakin’, tears down more yards 0’ fence in a day than _ > temp’rance kin put up in three. Look at your gin palaces, what elegant mirrors and counters and sideboards they has, what gorgeous chandeliers and picters and break-your-neck in the parlors.” _ .“There’s a mortgage on one side, an incubus on top, a sheriff at the back door, and two plumbers and a-gasman down cellar _ taking away the fixtures. Where’s your elegance? Gone to furnish the gin-mill, or the pawnbrokers, while the sot grace- ully reclines om the floor. | “Why, if it hadn’t been for rum where would Alexander the ; Great have been? He took a bath in a river, and was so froze to death, all because rum and water wouldn’t mix; one was 00,hot and t’other too cold. If he hadn’t beena drinkin’ man ea never have got caught that way.” “T never heard that he was,” said Van, with a laugh.. “Then your early eddication has been neglected, that’s all ave to say, and I’m sorry to see sich ignorance... Anyhow, ou thank your stars that it wasn’t rum as done it!” \ ‘ Le ee ‘ THE TRAITOR. where is your case in pojnt?” asked atk wandering from one subject.” “Seems to CHAPTER XXVI. _-. ae “THE GRASSY SBA: ee et ing at Chipps with drawn knife, furious as a hungry wolf, fis k “Wull, as the stor¢-book says, that will be continued in bur raft. 2 next. I aren’t ‘got time to give you the hull of it now.” ~~ “Let’s retire.” said Harlowe, “and in the morning consult as to what had better=be. done.” ; A “And Merton?” ¢ “He is safe for the night. I hope your lecture won't have . any bad effect upon you in the morning, Chipps.” es “Reckon it won’t,” replied the other, laughing. Then they.all went below and turned into their rooms, none of them observing that the door of the smal! room, in which | Merton had been confined, was slightly ajar. An hour later, had one been in.the lower hold, he would have seen the man working away diligently with an auger and bit-stock, evidently boring holes; though why there was any need of doing so might have puzzled them. He worked silently and swiftly, making as little noise as, possible, and after some time drew out the auger. A jet of water followed, shooting up several feet like a foun- tain, and then bubbling up less noisily. Merton quickly betook himself to another point a few feet away, and began boring again, a smile of hellish satisfaction crossing his bearded face. The auger worked its way quickly through the wood, and before many minutes had elapsed another jet sprang up ‘trom: below. Thus the man works silently through the night, shifting his position from time to time, the water gaining upon him sand driving him higher up on the side. What devilish work is this that he is engaged in? Scuttling the ship! This is the way in which he recovers the cisnde lost by joining the pirate in his unsuccessful plot to obtain aathenet:: ie ot the ship. ; He is disgraced, and will be forever an outcast—a man Ge spised by his companions—and death were preferable to that. : If he must die,.why not all at the same time? In that way he may be avenged upon them for their scorn © and contempt, and for the-blows they have struck him. While the three were on deck he broke open the dacr by one push of his strong shoulders, and, totally unobserved, crept to the tool chest, secured what he wanted, and pas his. way into the hold. Here he began his unholy work, and kept it’ up all the rest \ of the night, boring more than a dozen holes in the side of the | ship, all below the water line. Less would have sufficed, but he wished the cecal aos to take place as soom as possible, that there might be the less time for preparing for their departure. ee! He was still engaged in his task when Van arose, and, §0-), Se ing into the general cabin, noticed the door of Merton’s prison standing wide open, the motion of the vessel having: sage oe: igi to swing out. ni He darted one glance into. the room, and, seeing it was empty, quickly aroused -his comrades and showed er the: oH empty room. : “He is hiding te a about the vessel,” observed Hak Dees lowe. “Well, as long as he does not bother us we will not ‘dis-- turb him., I ought to have secured the door better before I went to bed.” “He may be armed and fire upon us,” Van remarked. bi “He has no firearms. .They are all-in their places.” ‘te rae “Suppose we have breakfast atore we inact) ? BDOKSS up Chipps. “It'll be time to fret then,” Merton did not appear, and an hour or-so later, ve Van. ae, pacing the deck, he chanced to look over thé rail at a, point ty ‘iat E where it was broken down. . Be! His blood seemed to freeze within him, and he robes fell to it the deck so great was his horror. 4 The water was within three feet of the deck! , i Then he felt a trembling beneath him, and ‘saw that ei Af water was agitated all along the side of the ship, as: though | they had been rushing along undér all canvas, when in realy they were only drifting slowly. “We are sinking!” cried the boy, “and our raft. has left: us: ae Harlowe heard the ery, = rushing to the boy’s ts asked: «what is the matter, Va “Look over the side!” ee Harlowe looked, and his heart nanled into his throat. “Heaven help Hs, we are lost!” At that moment Chipps came running from the fag ‘the ing been in the hold for something he needed, and with, a face” blanched « from terror, he gasped: “There’s nine-or ten feet of water in the hold, and its gain: vy ing at every second!” ay “Quick!” shouted Harlowe, “get ‘the axes; we ‘mus m - ; } eh away the 3 rail!” Si ‘Chipps:
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ee reed rer meen RIVE YH ARS IN THE ae SEA. . “Sow did this happen?” asked Van, getting an ax and hand- ‘ing it to Harlowe.: “There’s been deviltry on foot, you may be sure.” “Who has: done it?” ee eT have!” ahi All three turned and beheld Merton standing before theth. 4 “Vou?” } “Yes. Ihave scuttled the ship! We shall all die together?’ “Traitor!” hissed Harlowe, rasing the ax and springing for- ward. Van laid a hand upon his arm and detained him. “Stop!” he said. “Leave him to the vengeance of Heaven!” “As God is my judge,” said Harlowe, letting his hand falf by his side, ‘you will die’a miserable death, Merton. You have imperiled all our lives, but He that has watched over us thus far will not permit us to perish.” Merton said nothing, but, walking forward, sat on the knighthead gazing into the ocean. Fast flew the axes, but faster yet the good’ ship sethHed into the rippling waters, and in a few minutes would disappear be- / neath them forever. | “For the love of God, make haste!” shrieked Harlowe, in agony. Will pick it up afterward.” The rail was cut away, and several lengths lashed together, Bre a keg or so of hard-tack were secured, together with one of beef, and then the rude raft was pushed into the sea. i ‘Merton still sat alone, and, smiling grimly, muttered: i ' “It is/useless. We will all die together.” “Traitor!” hissed Harlowe, and catching Van by the hand, iy leaped upon the raft and pushed off, Chipps having’ quickly *, followed. . “Good-by!” laughed Merton, scornfully, “Pll meet you all at the bottom!” } ‘ i ’ CHAPTBR XXVII, + +> THE SHIP. / | The raft was barely sufficient to hold the three with even the ‘slight amount of provisions it cenetce; and was without mast, sail or rudder. F “ Tt was a fragile affair, and should they encounter a storm would be quickly demolished, leaving them to perish in the ee of waters. ‘The ship had sunk to the deck line and was beginning to p hecnpte like a frightened animal, Harlowe paddling vigorously / with one oar that had been saved from the first raft, putting as -Tthuch distance between them and the ship as the time would PAllewei9 2) 48° “Come aboard, Merton!” cried Van. } ‘remain. ¥ as Oe ‘must’ die anyhow, and I choose to do so here,” the man etorted sin surly beet oe “Go your ways, we will all meet be- fore long.” “There she goes!” cried Gilpin pointing to the ship. ; They could see that she was about to make the last plunge, and Chipps and Harlowe both bent upon the oar in order to , eet further away from the dangerous spot. ‘Merton had evidently changed quis mind, for he. suddenly i arose, and, rushing out upon the broken Blip ae dived into “You will perish if you Just after he: faa disappeared the good ship made a plunge, the. weed: covered water foamed and surged, there was a great ean » for pany? ha DY, Daven sank pam ‘their Beek ae ittle : “Get a water cask, Van, and roll it into the sea. We “upheaval, and with @ splash the hulk which had been their’ “Look!” cried Van, suddenty; “he! has’ escaped!”” They looked, and saw Merton clinging ‘to a broken spar ‘or some other bit of drift, and as he saw them he shouted: “We'll meet again, never fear, but it’ll be at the bottom!” “Better be more mod’rate,” shouted back Chipps. ““There’s a better punishment ahead for you, and you'll get it just as sure as preaching,” There were many bits of wreckage around them, and Har- lowe made fast one or two floating spars, which he lashed to the raft to strengthen it and give them more room ‘to: stir about. They, now felt their loss of the raft, for if they had had that they would have been very comfortable, and could have employed the time lost in making another, by getting aboard more supplies. The outlook was more gloomy than ever, and it was hob sur-- prising that they remained silent, not daring to trust them- ~ selves to speak, lest they should utter the sad thoughts whieh Me mastered them. “They could see Merton at some little distance, and observed that he made several additions to his float, whith made it © more comfortable, though how he would make out for water — and supplies they could not guess. Harlowe picked up one cask in addition to that rolled over by Van, and these made a part of the raft, the bung-holes being kept uppermost, and the salt water being kept out by means of thick plugs made of cloth. , There was a tin dipper made to fit the bung-hole, and. out of this they drank, taking care not to lose it, as they’ 8 could not yery well roll the casks over when: they Wight A to drink. The day passed, and they lost sight of Merton, a thick. wen arising in the night which lasted for days, and prevented» faye them from seeing further than a few rods around them. A week crept by, and they had added considerably to theit raft, the axes doing good service, and now they had room — enough, and to spare, having the water casks on deck, vand ays shelter built over them, under which Van could sleep, Har lowe and Chipps occupying it occasionally. ‘ They caught many fish and found plenty to eat in the weed, : and helped to make the other supplies last longer, the water being kept up by occasional rains and the dews which fell aj night. For six long months they floated on in this weecaled sta picking up an occasional bit of drift, which served | strengthen their raft, once meeting with a spar round which i was tightly wrapped a piece of canvas of considerable size, and now and again coming upon a floating plank, washed from some lumberman’s deck and carried hence, ‘ Once, to Van's surprise, they saw a tree, evidently from the. tropics, and around its trunk was coiled a huge Wee stilt’ living, although evidently nearly famished. ma Van had read how the ocean currents. carried strange ‘ile upon the shores they washed, and he was by no means §' prised at meeting this creature so far from Kome. Indeed, hi had long since ceased to wonder at the strang¢ things he aww in this ocean desert, which, as any sailor who has penetrate: at all into the Sargasso can tell you, is the most rE i collection of rubbish that ever was Seen. ; “They tived on turtle ‘until they were’ Sic obliged to throw much of: the meat, away, yes ai tls se tgs sa
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FIVE YEARS “IN my peak) Pe _ they seemed to W® approaching the outer limit, the weed being thinner and more scattered, and the open patches more humerous. ar One evening Harlowe sees. a sail, but it is too far off, and ‘ ‘he does not tell his companions, for fear of exciting them un- “mecessarily. * The next morning Vay is awake before any one, and sud- ' denly astonishes himself and them by fairly shrieking: | “A sail! A‘sail!” As they spring up he cries again: “A ship! a ship! and almost upon us!” CHAPTER, XXVIII. THE RESCUE. a Van had not been mistaken. : ' There was a ship in sight, and close at hand. Indeed, it was almost upon them, and had not Van shouted the men on board would not have seen the raft. ' It was fortunate that Vah had’awakened when he did. - Otherwise what now proved their salvation would have been . their destruction. “Hurrah!” cried Chipps, forgetting entirely his principles pr: moderation, and capering like a monkey. “We’re out of this grassy sea at last.” Not so iast, Chipps, old fellow! ; “serve yet before you are out. Q .> “Ahoy; there!” called Harlowe to a man standing forward: *piten us a line.” You have a long time to é _ Chipps made it fast, and in a moment the raft grated againBt it he side*of the ship, a and Harlowe, seizing the after chains, ‘ a himself up, lifting Van after him, the cook following. Ready hands from above assisted them, and in a few minutes ‘they gteod on deck before the astonished sailors. “Welcomé heartily, mates,” said a bronzed and weather- ten tar, advancing. “You've had a lucky escape. | Wrecked, “Yes. a “Tm from the Snowflake, old Captain North,” said Chipps. a “And we are from the steamer Sore, bound em Cape “what?” cried ‘the first mate, coming forward. ly the Adriatic?” ' edie. “Why; she was lost more than two years ago. At least noth- ing has been heard of her since that time.” “Nor of any of her passengers or crew?” “Did you * She was up by an infernal machine.” hére have you been for these two years\and a half?” the grassy sea.” e ave heard. of the vessel,” said the eaataie “but it is arly three years since she was last heard of: In fact, I aI er myself and spoke her.” D use ommand ce Carrier Dove at that time?” ori 4 + 4 would live so long, but there they were still, and better yet, THE GRASSY SEA. Chipps then briefly related his adventures, the méeting with his comrades and the events of the two years ue which ee they had been adrift in the sea of grass. a The tale was an astonishing one, but as they all told the Ned same story with the difference natural to the methods of each,: - the captain could not but believe it. He had entered the Sargasso the day before, but did not in- tend’to remain in it long, as the weed impeded the progress of : his vessel. He was bound to the Cape of Good Hope from Canada, and : had two or three passengers in the cabin, friends of the owners, ’ \i though one, a young lady, was going to rejoin her father, whom she had not seen for several years, and had taken this! mode’ of travel as costing less than by steamer. The name of the ship which had picked up the three casta- ways was the Harold, named after the son of ‘the captain, James M. Lawton, who was a part owner. nga The first mate had formerly been in the employ of the bakes steamship company to which the Adriatic had belonged, and er he was well acquainted with all the steamers of the line, and pe remembered very well that the lost vessel had. taken a new first officer almost at the very moment of starting. ' Harlowe spoke privately to the mate, Mr. Edmunds, con- cerning the loss of the Adriatic, and of the infernal machine, the latter promising to say nothing until they reached port. “Haye you this letter written to old Cheatham?” he asked.) ~ “No, Merton kept it, and he was lost. I know its contents well, however, as they interested Van, the boy with us, very — nearly. It was his uncle who conspired to blow up the vessel. Cheatham was but his tool.” “You say that the clock was made by one Goldschmiat” “Yes, a resident ‘of Cape Town. It-is not the first he’ has made for the same purpose, if report speaks aright.” «~~ “Say nothing of this while you are aboard ae Harold. You - will understand the reason later,” ¢ The castaways were well cared for, and were the conde ‘of. interested circles, each having his own set of-admirers. + Chipps was popular among the seamen; Harlowe’ among the officers, and Van a great favorite with the passengers, particu: larly the ladies, the young girl. who was going fee to! her ay father being noticeably attracted to him. 7" “They call you Van,” she said. “That is not your whole | name. What'is the rest of it?” re feat “Pierce.” eal , “You will let me talk with you often, Mr. Pierce?” Pie aa “Certainly, if you will eall me Van.” t “Short for Van Brunt?” ‘she asked., “Van Brunt Pierce— |. that is an odd name. It is both Dutch and English. Mine is Re.) all German, every bit of it.” 4 “Let!me hear it.” q “Lena Goldschmidt, daughter of Sigmund Goldschmidt of ay Cape Town.” Ni ea “Is he a clockmaker?” said Van, excitedly. | ‘ “Yes. Why do you ask?” Ries Sasaki: “T have’ heard of him,” he answered: and ae added, ie mentally: “The daughter of the man by whose devilish agency we were nearly all destroyed! There is a strange fatality in this. iy had Page not correct the error sho has made in) Heeard to a ay oF name.’ ‘When Van told Harlowe of th circumstance, the naiees said: “Ah, row I understand why Edmunds advised me to say’ nothing about the real cause of the loss of the Adriatic, wonder if this girl ‘knows of the reputation her, Admired — father bears?” 3 “She cannot)” “answéred Van. “She seems pee ‘pure to be the daughter of. such a fiend” | ie acre Aa “T see that you are interested in her, Van.” t sien arte VEO Yes, and I would not have her know this for wo oxlds.” ie The officer of the wa » it in nigh -
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4 eal: was well that neither of them knew how bad it was des- ‘tined to be in more sénses than one. CHAPTER XXIX, THE WURRICANE. '.Tt was indeed a wild night, wilder than any of them had imagined, for the Harold had-been destined to meet with a Be, “strange experience, and this was but the beginning. ns : “When the middle watch’was called at midnight the wind be- ie gan to blow quite smartly, mingled with squalls of rain, the ippeten putting on their oilskin jackets to keep off the. water. i Two bells sounded, and the wind increased, accompanied by . “heavy rain and distant thunder and lightning, the waves ris- ing, to a gréater height and the wind shifting rapidly from z cone ‘quarter to another. Four bells came, and the wheel was) relieved, but in about an minutes the helmsman called for assistance, as he was not ‘able to manage the wheel alone. When the man who went to his aid had got half way, the wind suddenly veered right around, the sails taken all aback, and the gale suddenly springing up in full fury, threw the ; vessel upon her beam ends in an instant. ; ne NI | hands Rie H yelled one of the seamen in at the fore- |. if oils door. de. of ‘the rail broken ee by the foam of the s ed from top to, bottom, one portion falling across the led, so that the ship lay helpless in an instant. e rolled, Ean at the mercy ie the elements, in the ) ing - carried away—were also igen into ribbons, the ff mene phapoits the foretopmast off short : and bring- Haretiog in an tue es and to make matters gale i increased to such a degree that the vessel was eae water, the house on deck was swept away, top torn off, the cabin — unroofed’ and the though the wind still blew with considerable force, dashing spray upon the deck, and making the position of the survivo a most unenviable one. ‘The meee Boy, oa cs| ies yet in his Begs sry gave eee t came along and said, alee “Take it mod’rate, Van—take it mod’rate. mien are ae spars and sails and we'll get home under a jury, never fear. ain’t so bad as it looks.” “Ts that so, nian Neh cried ules looking: up. “Yes, my lad; 4 can “A toward as our eseape,’”’ \ By noon the gale had so far moderated that the male she x vivors, four in number, in addition to our friends, bil to rig 78 gue Hepa forward, pa ciate a Olea larg fit. With a fair wind, therefore, and with high hopes. ee future, they turned their ship’ toward the open sea in full fidence of soon leaving the Sargasso far behind, little kno ‘that for some of them it was destined to be a grave. — f CHAPTER XXX. * ; THE BURIAL. Another year has passed, and the, Harold floats idly \ weed-covered waters of the grassy sea, her sides cover -| green fungus, her oe bleached white oe the rays, of di abtain ordered two men to take the wheel, bat in the i diay FREY) were Rage taken ott their feet all the gallant ee that once tred oe deck, a dy dozen alone remain. : Wee el The story, of their bitter disaneotmnens is soon the subject is too painful for me to linger long upon. tered, their sails blown away from their fastenings, der literally carried away, and the helpless hark ree ac again to nfeet a fate similar to the many that had already ¢ to this vast rubbish heap and rotted away. i Thr ree of the survivors of the Harold’s crew lost : the sole remaining one being a seaman by the» nam f the passengers having died, some at the time of” th sto months, -writh the exception elk Lena Goldschmidt nd woman who was accompanying her to meet her father. Van. had had no akaipannana ls to reveal ‘his true man n mast: apiitaat torn out, and the, ites were harried cverhonnd-te killed by the cook was: struck - dead by the lightning, arpenter killed by fall inters,, and only. wetcon: her father was, did x not care to. have ‘his cause her any regrets. ; . He was deeply interested in the girl now, at: sarei t ung ever discovered that he had been one of the p: sen ilar ill- fated Adriatic she might repulse ea
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FIVE YEARS IN THE deception, glad to escape relating any reminiscences of the poor child toward whom his old heart had warmed in their common desolation. It was singular that an event—it might almost be called a » fatality—should have happened to them a few months aiter they had again been wafted back into this weary waste, and as it makes an important link in my story, I shall give it as it occurred. They were drifting along one day, moving at the rate of two or three miles an hour, when Van, who was on deck, called THarlowe’s attention to some object which was floating not far from them. Chipps came on deck, and when the fragment of wreck, with its ghastly burden, drifted nearer he and Van drew it along- Side. “My words have come true,” he said. “Merton has died of * starvation, lashing himself to this mast to keep from drown- ing. How curious that we should come across him!” “Tt is fate,” said Van, gravely. Harlowe drew one skeleton hand from its place, of conceal- mént, and there, clutched tightly in the bony fingers, was a Small packet wrapped in oiled silk, the nature of which Van ' could very readily imagine. . Van himself disengaged it, and, retiring to a quiet part of _the vessel, examined the packet, finding it to contain the letter _ written-by his uncle to Cheatham, besides other memoranda which Merton had made respecting the rogue of an agent, Gold- schmidt, and Jack Hazard, the pirate. These were all valuable, and’ Van, carefully restoring them to their wrapper, put the whole into his pocket and returned to the’side of the vessel where he had left Harlowe and Chipps. _ “Yhe packet contains what I supposed it did,” he said, | Quietly. “What shall you do with these bones?” " “Youw’ll find a shot in the galley,” said Chipps, the cook hav- - ing built himself a new one to take the place of that whicli » had been swept away. “Fetch it here, and some of the sail "cloth. It’s been used pretty freely for shrouds since we've | been here.” ’ By the time Van returned, the skeleton had been brought up 2 on deck in good order, and Chipps at once proceeded to sew it ‘up in canvas, placing the weight at the feet. ; At the word the body was slid quickly into the water; it dis- - appearing, there were a few bubbles, and then the waves closed =) foreyer over the:spot which marked the last resting-place of Beet Matthew Merton. “He had réceived Christian burial, -which was more than he Bisa dared hope for, and his comrades had forgiven him and in- terceded for him with the Most High for entire pardon; and ~ let us be assured that they did not do so in vain. ~The matter had been conducted quietly, and no one on board, = except those directly interested, knew what had happened, - though Lena, as she watched the sea in the moonlight with » Van that night, asked him why he was so unusually graye. ictal was thinking,” said he, “how many more yeams of my life were to, be spent in this wilderness,” ay “ “It is thrée years now since you came here?” ' “Yes, and more than that, nearer four. I am nearly twenty- - one, and I was but seventeen when I first came.” _ “And you long to reach your home bch Me “You cannot tell how much!” | “But you have no ties?” bey bave the ited of country, which is the strongest tie that ‘can bind any one.’ “Gould you not stay here always?” “T might, under certain circumstances. j » a I am more resigned es: do you not?” ‘ our hope inspires. me with the same feeling.” follow the man she pores: ie s GRASSY SEA. “Because it is pleasant to find a kindred soul even in this desolate spot, and with one I love the time I spend here does not seem so irksome.” “You are greatly attached to your companions?” i | Bare a still greater attachment than that I have for them even.’ Lena blushed and Van continued: x “You can guess who I mean?” j : “Yes,” she answered, simply. “You are not displeased?” : ; “T am pleased.” : 7 “May I ask you a question?” AY “As many as you choose.” “Suppose you should find me different from what you had thought me—suppose my life were connected with yours in an unpleasant manner—suppose you should discover that. those you loved had deeply injured me—would your shame part nie from you?” ' “You have said you loved me?” ows : “I swear it.” ; : ; “You believe the passion has been returned?” “T have hoped so.” ® “You have not hoped in vain. Whatever those I love have x done to injure you, I shall remain true, and nothing shall part > 4 us, not even death.” CHAPTER XXXI, THE STORY. Van folded the lovely girl to his heart and held her there for r some moments, when he said: ; ; $1 “May I tell you a story of a friend of mine? .'The case is similar to my own, and will help you to a better understanding hat of it, and may make you change your decision.” / “Nothing ‘can change it,” she replied, trustfully. ‘ ai “But may IT tell it?” oes “Yes.” ; ao “There was a man,then, a villain, as I believe him, who, with others, conspired to blow up a vessel on which my friend had taken passage. This friend was heir to a large estate, which his uncle wished to retain to himself, and therefore hired a man to blow up the ship. “This villain procured an ingenious contrivance from the first man I mentioned, which was hidden. away in a ball of Br wool, together with a large quantity of explosive matérial. ¢ Hy “At a certain time this contrivance, which went by clock- “CH work, exploded the hidden mine and blew up the ship.’ My friend was sayed through divine interference, and then, by an aecident, he learned of the plot against him by which many innocent lives had been sacrificed. “This villain, the one who had furnished the engine of de- struction, had a daughter who was, as I believe, totally igno-- ear rant of the hideous: depravity of her father, and it was my friend’s fate to meet and fall in love with her, his passion be-~ ing returned. Wire: “We will suppose that this innocent girl discovers. the vil- ea lainy. of her father, and also how near her lover came to his death by the former’s agency. Knowing this she was horrified, and, fearing that her lover would lay her father’s sin upon her } shoulders; resigned her love.” ih? pine “But he, your friend, what did he do? Did he blame bh ? for another’ s sin?” r y “No, he pitied her, and his love grew stronger than. ever.” “Did she know this?” ate “She knows it now. What should she have done?” “Cleaved to him in spite of father and kindred, ‘left, all to. Raia mee a fable he
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ws 5S aaah aN get ae: Boia Sd FIVE YEARS IN THE GRASSY’ SHA: “)* Ieave you from shame. Believe me, though I dare not guess “for instance, there was the great Peter, the seizer of all ” i what has' happened, yours I am, and yours I will remain.” the Russians, and everything else he could lay diands ODS las “Tf is enough,” said Van. “I need tell you no more. [I will} he——” ee not wound your young heart by shaking your confidence in one What he might have disclosed concerning the autocrat of all whom you love. I forgive him his misdeeds, and trust that he; the Russians was never known, for Harlowe, chancing to turn | may be pardoned, as far as I am concerned; but as for his eyes seaward, suddenly sprang up and eried aloud: ny 3 Many innocent victims, I can say nothing.” “Saved at last, thank Heaven!” 7 ‘Tell me, is it my father who destroyed the Adriatic? You There was a ship in sight and the castaways had no a aleedieye tf were, then, a passenger upon that ill-fated ship?” in signaling her, the man on the lookout having already. dis-— % “T wish to say no more.” covered the floating hulk, though he did not suppose that tages iy were any human beings on board. “9 A boat was quickly lowered, and the voyagers were trans- ~ ferred to the Nautilus, their long sojourn in the grassy sea. being ended at last, though there were still adventures in store for some of them which would prove no less.perilous than those already met. ; Lena turned away to hide her emotions; but presently, growing calmer, she said: ” ‘ “T know you did not mean to hurt me. I must have learned all these horrible truths some day, and it was kind of you to “spare me the rude shock of hearing them from strangers and enemies. f love you none thé less for it, and, come what may, 1 ; shall be yours forever!” i : ; * bia tte * * * * *¥ MIPER::y Five years in the grassy sea! Van is a stalwart, bearded young fellow of twenty-two. Har- lowe has begun to turn gray, and the bald spot upon the head of old Chipps ha® greatly increased in size; his limbs, too, showing the approach of age, and his voice having a decided erack in it. eae > Lena’has grown into a noble woman in the last year, and is i if . more beautiful than ever, her fair cheeks, bronzed by the sun, 4,» detracting none from her beauty, as she is the very picture of health, and is as lithe and active as a deer. _ Cleet has died, and that, too, when rescue is close at hand. The Harold’sesupplies have not been exhausted, though there is little left, and the vessel itself is very much the worse for bet wear, They are all seated upon the deck in the early evening, Chipps holding forth as usual, having been set upon his fa- vorite talk by some remark of Van’s: The mystery of the old fellow’s libations has long since been cleared up, but they do not occur very often, and as he is never quarrélsome or disagreeable while’under the influence of ‘the “cuss,” nobody minds his occasional slips, though Harlowe, for sport, sometimes locks up the cupboard where the liquor is kept, after,Chipps has begun one of his lectures. “It’s all very “well to talk about wine being good for your - stummick,” he says,““but rum isa cuss, and I kin prove it. “Rum makes countless thousands mourn, as the geography er Says. Rum paralyzes the brain and exhausts’ the nervous en- ot ' + ergies, it witiates the taste, destroys the palet’and assifiates -\ the heart. It builds railroads, school-houses and churches. ~) No, I don’t mean that; it tears "em down. “Look: at Horace Walpole, the great English statesman. _- What did he say? That every man had the price of a glass of rum in his clothes, and that if they didn’t stop drinking, the ‘ hull nation would, go to ruination. And he was quite right. “Listen to the words of Christopher Columbus, the dis- cover of the biggest nation on earth. What did he say? ‘That he didn’t care who got'the money for the circus licenses 30 long’ as he had the! liquor privileges! He knew what the be- | settin’ sins of the nation were, and he took advantage of his - information and got into prison for it.’ f ia “What happened to the pilot of the Jersey Mosquito when goin’ through the Hudson Highlands? He’ got drunk, beastly CHAPTER XXXII. THE AGENT. In the dingiest building in a dingy street in the busy city of New York, at the very top, under the eaves and in the rear; its one window looking out upon a dark court, where numer: , Aus tall buildings have sprung up all around it, is a dirty” . little office, where a dirty little man sits poring over some dirty books, the chair he sits in being old and dilapidated, the i table littered with papers and stained with. ink, and the ~ whole atmosphere of the place indicative of dry-rot and decay. On a small, rusty, dirty, bent and crumbling: tin sign, aps to the outer door is painted the legend: Darius CHrarHaM, Z f Agent, Collector and Attorney. . Above this sign is a dirty card, upon which is written in a crabbed hand: , “RENTS COLLECTED, ACCOUNTS SETTLED, MISSING HEIRS FOUND. TERMS REASONABLE. 4 The man seated before the rubbish- Iittered table ii an. old acquaintance, Darius Cheatham, ‘whom we have not seen sing : he lost that important letter on the wharf at Cape Town. More than five years have passed since then, but the ma’ vorite expression with them that he is only keeping aie save the expense of a funeral. ‘ Nobody knows where he lives, and evidently nobody car to find out, for he has but few callers, and they seem to, about as disreputable.as himself. ins There are one or two exceptions to this, however, and u this particular afternoon he has a caller, a tall, fine-loo man,! somewhat gray, but quite robust and ae in pearance. + drunk, and’ the steamer was going to destruction, when the Ma engineer, | who could drink like a fish, and knew more than the Hal pilot, went upstairs and ran the old thing safe into a dock. It “Ah, it’s you, is it?” he says, in a cracked voice, i “C Ais (was: rum done it, I tell you; for if it hadn’t been -for rum the | and pene let any one see you, for I’m out ese de fd pilot would have been sober and would hev run down two the ‘King of the Cdpint ball Islands. - : id Lord eee do at the battle of the Nile? ag ele a Soaked
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FIVE YEARS IN THE GRASSY SHA. _ “Never do; costs too much. outside of them.” “You would have done well to have read them to-day.” | aca 2? The other took a newspaper from his pocket, unfolded it, and, after glancing over it, read as follows: I get-all the information I want } “TIVE YEARS ADRIFT. “A remarkable story of peril and adventure upon the sea has just come to us, the full particulars of Which we shall soon be able to place before our readers. It will, perhaps, be remembered that the steamer Adriatic, plying between Cape Town and London, mysteriously disappeared some five ‘years ago, nothing having ever been heard of her since that time. “Pwo men have now arrived in this port from Bermuda who » were upon the lost steamer, one in the capacity of first officer, the other as a passenger, and who, since the wreck, have been ‘gdrift upon the ocean for five years, never having seen land erom the time of the going down of the Adriatic until their »arrival in Bermuda. 5 “Incredible as it may seem, these two, with a companion, a ho died about a year ago, and a shipwrecked sailor whom © they met on the raft in mid-ocean, have tor five years been rifting, about in the grassy sea of the Atlantic, subsisting upon fish and the supplies found in der out vessels which ‘had ‘drifted into that strange place. “It is intimated that their coming will throw eonsiderabie ght upon the fate of the Adriatic, and that their story will vd icriminate certain parties, if still ving, the steamer having een destroyed by an infernal machine made by a German clockmaker in Cape Town. “The story told by the survivors is a very interesting one, € understand, and as soon as possible we shall publishyit,en- re, knowing that it will greatly repay perusal. It is so uwn- i sually startling, however, that we wish to have’the facts veri- he somewhat before giving them to the world, so as not to in- jure our reputation for veracity.” ‘There was mote than this, but that was the substance, and hen the reading was: finished Ma) man laid down the paper er last voyage? Of course you do.” “Well, suppose I do. “Hy knows nothing. I am only an You pear the insurance.” If the principal cannot be found now, ks oe “You will have to yee in that cabactty aw “f fone What for?” To, keep my nephew from making trouble.” , noe don’t know that he is alive, John Van Cliet.” for : baled: Read ‘this.” account of the wreck, one paragraph of pee was and read as PONE Ba resraith é i. he steame ‘Adriatic, la they. clain | ae a ‘said Van Clief, in icy tones. He handed Cheatham another Ln which contained a long | This young man has taken advantage of a wha news per. story to, impose upon me.” ( Harry Harlowe, and the’ boy, Pierce: Van cuiet,| the matter before the police of this country at once, having 4 already advised the British authorities. Their comrade, / eit! Chinns, has much to say of the loss of the Snowflake, and it is believed that the young lady who accompanies them is a rela- i tive of the rascally ia hoasiaes who furnished the engine of ! death.” Ft miss . “That is more serious than I thought,” said Cheatham. “Well, John Van Clief, what do you propose to do?” “That is what I want you to tell me.” : ee “Do nothing. You are not attacking. The young man will have to prove his identity, and that is not always easy. There might be a dozen Pierce Van Cliefs. ‘How do we know that he mt is the right one? Your brother may be dead; and if so, it will CA be hard tor this boy to prove that he is what he says he is.” an “Then it ‘is five years since he has*been heard of. Tt ‘will Gi not be an easy matter to dispossess me, I was to have all in ‘fF = ease of his death,” : “If he died suddenly, ‘after having proved his ‘claim, it woul be suspicious, would it not?” “By Heaven, he shall not prove it! -I) must get rid of him at once. You will help me?” } aoe! “As an agent,’ croaked the old villain. f ; 2 ' 5 7 CHAPTER XXXIIL... {HE COMMITMENT. At that moment there came a tap upon the door, and ‘Cheat? ham tunlocked it and looked cautiously out into the dingy hail.’ The door was suddenly thrown wide open, the agent- ae hurled into the middle of the room, and then two men. entero “Ah; I. have found you, haye*I?” said one, who. ae naa lowe himself, returned from sea. hea “Unele Jack, don’t you know me?” cried ae second, ie Bn was the same Van we have known so long, older than when. Bers nt eae embarked upon his eventful voyage, and as handsome a young: ; fellow as one would like to see: Reena “You are laboring under some misapprehension, evidently,’ “bam not acquainted with your 5 “You might not recognize me, of course, after sO long ane absence,” said Van. “I am your nephew, Pierce.” EA, Sa i “That makes the second,” said Cheatham, suddenly: “Me? pe ots be having'a' dozen nephews for you to acknowledge pr ati soon eh, Van Clief?” ‘ Hue “What do you mean by that, you old‘ thief?” hited fiadigee, aN “You thought to get rid of us by your devilish contrivances, didn’t you?” ea ‘3 oh “Are you speaking to me? na yee the pleasure of sain acquaintance.” “IT am Harry Harlowe, first officer of the steamer Adriatic. ay You know me well enough.” ; “T did know a Harry Harlowe once, but you are not rea mers) son. 'He died five years ago in an Be kaa prison- ae They oe hanged him for murder.” “ er “Which will be your fate, and that of your friend Sigua ate Goldschmidt. Have you invested in any more diamonds - lately?” wey rs “Tf you have any, business with this gentleman, you will have to take another time for it,” said Van Clief, es hat present I am engaged with him.” “John Van Clief,” said Harlowe, “this is the son of ‘jour dead brother, your nephew Van.” eee “He igs an impostor. My nephew returned ton isa Town very nearly five years ago, and at present is living with me ; “Poor boy, he is clearly Tfisane!” interposed You had better take h to an asylum, Mr-
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Se re a ee i Naat celia ae i las i aril! Re pee ee 20.2: ; FIVE. YEARS IN* THE GRASSY” SBA. “He is no more insane than-I am.” ofiicers dragged him away, and clapped a pair of handcuffs , “Tm sure that-yeu are sane, for you call yourself by the | upon his wrists. : name of a man that has been dead these five years.” “Away with him!” cried Cheatham. “Oh, he is as crazy a oy tell you that he is Pierce Van Clief, and if you do not|a loon.. Lock him up, and put a strait-jacket on him!” acknowledge hirn, there will be a means to make you. I know Poor Lena had fainted when she realized what she had done, _ your plot, John Van Clief, and have the proof of it.” but Harlowe attempted to rescue Van from the officers. , “Have you quite finished?” The doctor on one side and Van Clief on the other, held him 7 “No, “Did you ever see this letter?” back until the officers had departed, Harlowe struggling madly ; “T neyer wrote that letter in miy life!” gasped Van Clief. “It| to escape the while. ; is a forgery. You cannot blackmail me. I will have you ar- The doctor suddenly let go one, hand, and darting it into his “a rested for trying to obtain money on false pretenses.” pocket drew forth a vial and a handkerchief, which he pressed ~~ “We do not want money; we want justice, Since you deny} tightly and held to Harlowe’s nose. ¥ us, we will go to the police court and make our statements con- The vial contained chloroform, and, being shattered by the i cerning the loss of the Adriatic and how she came to be de-| pressure of the doctor’s hand, saturated the handkerchief sur- < stroyed.” — rounding it; “That is an old story, my man. ‘The thing has been all set- One-strong whiff of the pungent drug and Harlowe gasped, 7 tled long ago as being nothing but a hoax. ‘The captain of the | fell to his knees and let his head drop upon his breast, Adriatic has made his deposition. The vessel was never lost,| The doctor carried Lena below, leaving her at the door as and this yarn is but the invention of some enterprising news- | She began to revive and look about her in a dazed’ manner, paper. Meantime Van Clief had secured the tell-tale document, and,jy Ks “J will not argue the-subject. My nephew is now with me, | 88 the doctor returned, Cheatham said suggestively: and his identity has already been proyed beyond disputing by “Another case of habitual drunkenness. Stick a bottle oe a, an adventurer like yourself.” | his pocket, leave him in the gutter, and when he awakes he’ ress ‘. “Then you disown me?” = @ | find himself committed to the Island for six months on com~ a | “Yes, and.I think it would be the best thing for you if you plaint of his poor wife.” ¥. - , were putin an insane asylum, My friend hére can have you e ee ' committed if this comrade of yours will get’a doctor’s cer- Goes re |. tifieate.” ” : Roe epeAt this Cheatham suddenly dived out of the room as a young CHAPTER XXXIV. cu “i lady entered it. “Ahi Mi. Pierce, and you; Mr. Harlowe! I am glad I have THE DISCOVERY. sa i found you,” she said. “Chipps said you had come here.” | Chipps had been left in the hotel where Van and Harlowe — 2 “So—so; this is Mr. Pierce, is it?” said Van Clief. “Who did | haq gone when they arrived in New York, to await their re- — a. you say this young man was, madam?” turn, Dut, feeling lonesome, took a stroll, intending to return iy MrePlerce—Van Brunt Pierce.” at the same time they did. wa ce to? _ The belt of diamonds had been put in the hotel safe, Valid A YS a “No, no,” said Van, hastily. “I am Pierce Van Clief. It| haying sold one or two of the smaller stones in order to prow * "was a mistake, your calling me Van Brunt, and one that | | yide for the immediate: needs of himself and companions, so_ i should, have corrected.” | Chipps did not feel at all concerned about them. . “How long have you known this person?” asked Van Clief. | Lena Goldschmidt and the old woman had’ ‘gone \to the SEN. years. ‘e ‘house of a friend of the latter, and the cook met the young — “And, he has always been called Van Brunt. Pierce?” girl soon after he had left the hotel. 2 Yes, but mostly Van.” Upon her inquiring for Van he told her where, he had gone oS “Oh, ‘Lena,” criéd Van, in agony, “you will ruin me. This| the party having discovered Cheatham’s office address in the et) ‘my uncle, who plotted to destroy the vessel that my father | directory, and she at once set out for the place, while Chipps ; and I were, returning in. It was blown up by——” continued his walk. ry At this moment Cheatham returned, accompanied by two| Perhaps it was the heat, or perhaps the principles of moder- i: olicemen and.a pompous-looking man in black. ation, which presently led him to enter a well-appointed b “You miustn’t ereate a disturbance, you know,” said the lat-| room and call for a cooling drink, but at any rate he did so, ter: Ah, Van Clief, how do you do? Happy to see you. Wheré | ana, while indulging himself saw a party of gentlemen, evi is the young man who persists in declaring himself to be your dently old sailors, sitting around a table drinking and telling © nephew?’ © stories. “T am Pierce Van Clief, and I denounce this man. He is a| ,“I don’t think the thing is improbable at all,” said one of t ; villain, and has conspired to take innocent lives that he might! group. _“It. was pretty tough, I know, but I’ve met with ad- Baths succeed in’ his nefarious plots. It is he who conspired to blow | ventures that “ie would scarcely credit. nes IT was in th i pie Se ‘up the Adriatic.” Good Luck, “a é mail iss ‘melancholy case, surely,” said the man, Sitting down, the The name attracted the old man’s attention in a shomeni } ‘ . policemen entering and standing in front of the door. “I | and, stepping up to the party, he said: i know they, mephew of.Mr. Van Clief, and know him to be a “Mxcuse me, gentlemen, but if there’s ‘anything I want to i ~tworthy young man. I have no hesitation whatever in giving | know more than another it’s about that vessel. I’m a seafar a certificate of insanity.” in’ man myself, and my name is Chipps.” . *And-here is the document which commits him to an insane “What?” said the first speaker. “Are you one of the pa vasylum, 7 said Cheatham, triumphantly, waving a document as | that have just come home from drifting five years———") Ms if Soon 5 the other had signed the certificate. “Officers, do your “Yes; and Chipps briefly related the finding of the vessel, ; the death of Gregoire and the mystery that seemed to ae his is an outrage!” cried Harlowe. “You shall not com- | to the ship. Bish \ : “Well, the fact of the matter is,” said the man, “the shi At tall you I am aot “mad!” pratentis Van, hotly. “As for | was haunted; there wasn’t a rat in her, and she was ios villain, E; awit, tear the lie eye! your false heart!” after putting in all her supplies.” ys se “Abandoned in the open sea?”
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ae YEARS. IN THE " @RAssy SEA. ~ 4) a te i yglcsr eee a ¢ _ perstitious that I could not get a man to stay with me. They Bx declared they saw strange sights and heard unearthly noises, ~ and as there wasn’t a BinelS rat to be found they said she was. 7 doomed. a3" “We had been out a week when this last discovery was made, and I ran into a port, being then on the coast of _ Wiorida. The men deserted in a body before we got our anchor down even, jumping overboard and swimming ashore as soon “as we came into shallow water. “7 went ashore in a boat, carrying a hawser to make fast . with, and while I was making the run a heavy gale came up, is capsized me, parted the hawser, and sent the Good Luck out to sea, her sails being partly set still. _ “¥ou’d searcely believe it, but that vessel went booming ; over the waves, and was met in the Gulf Stream the next oe night bya schooner, which she pretty nearly ran down. - “The skipper thought that the Flying Dutchman and his phantom ship had come to pay him a visit, for not a soul Wr costa be seen aboard. There were no lights up, and the ship a-going before the wind under full sail. “Other captains corroborated the skipper’s statement, and I knew that it was the Good Luck that they had met. I never | Baw her again, but I suppose that the stream carried her to “the middle of the ocean, her sails were blown away and her pasts broken, wah In that pease state she drifted into the & ut boats or a steering ere was a mighty good refuge for us. & How about the ghosts?” “All rubbish! Some of the sailors had been playing jokes l pon the men, nee Hered not own up the truth for fear of get- i ‘Well, that was a strange thing for a ship yi do. She’s down al Be, bottom now, though, thanks to them augers that you eft There was lots of good liquor, too, though I will , teat rum’s a cuss. What will you have, gentlemen? Wr. Harlowe and the boy have gone out and I’m lonesome, I drink except fa mod’ration myself, but I like to see vine is a mockery, ad rum is a cuss. eputation, and cleans out your bank account. It puts a gma. on your good name and corns on your nose. It lowers r tell esteem, and raises the debt side o’ your ledger. Rum Gentlemen, my regards; pone cuss must be put “And here’s down with the cuss again; and if it’s to stay down, that had better be the last drink for the ik Boe, in mod’ration, gentlemen, so if 1 am going oe up a dts said Chipps to the ieee: Seay a 0 the man’s Lone and instantly Kaur sober. uae It takes away your]. experimenting sufficed to show the isan of and Chipps: was ‘allowed’ to pees os ee ies “Then we've got work to do;” said ‘Chipps. “Stay here Vl fix us whole thing up. 4 / Poor Van found him gagged and helpless, anc away, while the villains their plot. 4 “You must get a boy to personate your nephew,” said Cheat-*, ham. “It was lucky that you fell in so readily with. shes scheme. Ha, ha! the old man knows hg plot yet,” ? “T have just the boy you want,” sp doctor. “T will” bring him up to-night. He is a clever seal, and will 4 do whatever we want—for money.” : 5 “Took you,” said Van Clief, “this boy 46t escape, and — must never leave your place alive. If thete is any danger of his sanity being discovered, make him insane!” “My dear sir, make no mistake; there are strong evidences - of incurable insanity in the lad now, and I do not within a month he will be as insane as even y “That is what will\do it, I fancy,” said Van a roll of banknotes into the miscreant’s fat and He went away, while the doctor returned to h ham being left alone in his dingy room. “At last I have it,’ he muttered, taking the long lost paper from his pocket and spreading it out upon the table. (“I must keep this, for I shall want to use it against my friend some day.” i ; He read it over carefully, and then, as he folded it up Sas returned it to his pocket, said with a chuckle: “Van Clief thought he had it, because there were so many papers, but I’ve got it, and I intend to keep Tey will come — in handy some day when I am in want of money. Het ‘he! ie is always well to keep such things.” It was late in the afternoon, and Van was sitting in his coll, moody and silent, when a boy came along whistling a lively tune. gait “Hello!” said Van. : ae “Hello sousselt ” and the boy paused. , j eeant me out of the way. a hundred dollars.” ny “Wave you got any friends?” FEM OSs tee ae x “Where are they?” i i" “At the ——— Hotel. They are Mr. Harlowe: and Mr. Chipps. Bring them here and you will be paid what promised,” “ i “Honor bright?” seictsic ht fe “Yes; here’s five dollars for you now. It’s lucky I me ‘it. ins “Al right. I daren’t let you out, for the keepers. are. watehe a ‘ ing, but I'll get word to your friends. ze ‘3 “Do so and I will never forest you.” what's your name?” f “Pierce Van Clief. You remember my _ friends’ names’ “Harlowe and Chipps, at the Hotel.” «That's right. When will you see them?” «Tonight, if I can get off. The doctor keeps me rig he can find me when he wants me for a ticklish job.” “What do you do?” : ; “Does es pay you well for such wicked work?” Bee “Pay me well? ie pretends: to, but it’s might
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FIVE YE 2ARS’ IN THE GRASSY SEA, you the whole iieierces: - “You say ‘you daren’t ‘run AW avee fy “No. ” rz mie What for? a aan eae you see, I did something: erooked once, ree a| “phe ¢ oid man found it out, and threatened to jug me if I didn’t come to him. He's got the proofs, and there’s an indict- - ment pigeon-holed, which he could rake up at any time.” ' “Are there other sane people confined here?” “Yes,” and the, led’ 5 voice sank to.a whisper. “I’ve seen ’em come here as rear. -onable in their.minds as you or I, and before ) they left ge vere pecs able.’ \ 3 “And how can you see all this going on and say nothing?” 4 ie ne rer ane 7 bebe Bho it a ee I never EROes to a Heiated. the edatndl incidents of his past life, together ile the scone in the ah office, and when he had finished re's, something in this. You’re to be kept out of the noney, and somebody is to be found to personate you. “Pretend to be mg?” 5 Yes. 3. Tye done that sort of ‘work. A few months ago I was Va, boy whose uncle was to get a large sum of money on his ¥ ‘The real boy was missing, and unless his death could | WPA proved ‘the money would go to some distant relatives. 3 “was proved to be the nephew of this man, and told such a aight story that there was no doubt in the judges’ minds. o live with my uncle, but after a time I was taken sick |, You understand?” ite pretended to die.” y got a boy out of a hospital, put him’ in my place, l among his sorrowing friends, and all that, was reat style, and had a fine monument put over f “What do you suppose I was to pelt th Vi Five hundr st dollars! What do you think I did eitwente.ave!” i : ete roli alled a yoice. s ‘the: doctor,” said the boy, suddenly. Pretend to be mad.” , arrived fat the spot. the boy was poking fun la ighing at him, running a stick in between the bars uit ing: the hose at him, and in other ways annoying : see aie doctor standing and laughing at the : ents, when ‘he said, quietly: "11 do, Har qd. uy want to see you in ee omnes th ve ay ie He s ee had qe m go- ng with Do you |’ dene weld pe <a u . yu lhe a “You may Remember I can put you in | “Take care,” said the doctor, his brow lowering. get mere than er bargain for. prison.’ “Phen, by Jove, I’m going to have’something to put me there for!” ; Lh A He suddenly sprang upon the man, and, wrenching his heavy walking-stick from his hand, dealt him a blow on the head. Then quickly taking a bunch of keys from the man’s Ai Ne he ran back, released Van, and cried hastily: : “Follow me, as you value your life. I am going to help you it to escape.’ CHAPTER XXXVI. THE RECKONING. “To your duty, keepe:'s; an escape, an escape!” “Shoot him down!’ roared the doctor, his face pale and bleeding fromthe blow given him by the indignant boy. Harold had not retained the stick, or otherwise he might have done good work with it, but by this time he had unloc} da the gate, and, swinging about, he struck one of the men a blo alongside the head with a bunch of keys, and, seizing Van. yo if the hand, he dragged him outside. ' “There is a carriagé!” he cried suddenly, as they yeaben th front of the building. “Goodt” to the gr cae a a8 same ome that Van spr ang REN US catching up the reins, he drove away like mad. Hf A dozen peer wae by him, ne although some cae si (Good: by!” ne shouted. like, but you'll go there, too, Pm ne 4 ; He eC up wake at ses, hei they Se tearing dow hot breath coming in. shat ankathaasi pany: Such a pace could not be kept up very long, for ip ae jolt Harold was in danger of being thrown from ‘his seat, dl Van had to cling to the straps to prevent himself from into the bottom. of the carriage or out of the abe whi bh had Bok had time to PhORSs on, sae slackened his te, and, jumped: down and hia to Van: “Jump out. be tracked by means of them. “We Had better ‘walk of the way, or take the Horse- “Car's. Harold then started the horses off on a sade Bae and, Van walked down another street, and struck ono Ki y main avenues on, pbs te Gee se-cars were running, i goon stoppin E would not be noticed anne they entered a car, i cided not to do just then, : : So they walked on ant: on in’ the sconine tania! Sy others were, like them, making: their way to ¢ to séttle the reckoning with the villain | who in fan Bs 8 had too Jong saptened wen his ill-gotten npr Wrus oid # It was Hines and John Van Clief ait in apartments, surrounded with every luxury, events of the day, when | a visitor was anno’ ne walked the doctor and proprietor. of the insane ; _ “What's the matter?” said Van Clief, eon look . @ “Your nephew has escaped.” aM PMs ae : cried an Clief, ‘springing ‘to. his fe z
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FIVE YEARS IN: THE GRASSY SEA. cae & » though he has thought I had. Now he threatens to make cer- i tain disastrous disclosures if I threaten him, and he is not the one to shrink from opening the fight when once his blood is up, and, particularly, when baited by your nephew.” » “Then you suggest “Tmmediate flight. The lunacy laws protect me, in a meas- ure, and f can pretend to court an investigation, in the mean- | time covering up my tracks adroitly, so as to avoid the ap- | pearance of flight.” “TY don’t intend to run,” said Van Clief, “while I can fight | the thing out. The boy has nothing to prove his identity. Fe His papers are in my possession, and I intend to keep them.” . At that moment the servant entered, closely followed by ~ Cheatham, who, when'they were left alone, said hurriedly: . “Tt’s a good thing I found you-both here, for the jig is up! ~The man Chipps has sent for officers.” “But he does not know——” b “You gave Harlowe your address, and it wasn’t taken from him. This man has found it.” “Then we must——-’ The speech was cut short, for at that instant the door was ' thrown open, and Chipps rushed in excitedly. B “Fia, ha, yeu pirates, I’ve boarded ye at last!” he cried. “eome for justice, and I intend to have it!” | hick “Upon him!” hissed Van Clief. “Cut him down!” _ » The three villains made a rush, but suddenly stopped, the ‘sight of a gleaming revolver causing them to change their tTinds most en G “Be mod’rate now,” said the man, coolly. “I’ve got a lecture to deliver, and it’s in six chapters, two apiece all around, and ' “they'll go off mighty sudden if you ain’t careful. There’s very little mod’ration in a pistol.” ue “What is the meaning of this outrage?” aeinanned Van sOliet: » “First, IT want the papers you stole from my friend. Lay tem on that table in#6ne minute, or you'll get the first two i Oe of my jJecture where they won’t digest.” There was an air of determination in the man, despite his quaint manner, that convinced Van Clief that he would keep his word, and, throwing all hesitation aside, he laid the papers upon the table, Chipps taking them up and glancing over them. ' “There’s one missing,” he ‘said, quietly. “Produce it in- atantly, or take the consequences.” e “Y have given you all I had.” is = “There's a- certain letter written by you to this dirty little scoundrel here,” indicating Cheatham. “Where is it?” ~~ “Isn't it there?” SING,” “Then I don’t know where it is.”’ “Well, it’s among you, and if I don’t get it in two minutes i Tu. let drive promiscuous and then let the lucky man look out - for himself.” He waited a moment, and then began to move his weapon from side to side in a threatening manner. _ ‘This was too much for Cheatham, and he drew forth the sy Jetier and threw it down, erying:: “Don’ t shoot, don’t shoot! Here is what you want. “T’ve It. got to my pocket by mistake.” . “It’s lucky I didn’t shoot you by mistake,” said Chipps, dryly. en there’s one thing more I -want, and that is for ou know he is, or else what did you want him put out of E Ww iy for and. ‘another boy to take his place?” tts all up,” said the doctor, “that raseally Harold has told | i Ling. » said a 1 voice, and ‘Harold ae a was “We are cornered,” said Cheatham. enough. I had nothing to do with the plot against the boy.” “How about buying an infernal machine and’ stowing it on the Adriatic?” asked an officer who now made his’ appearance. “Don’t know anything about it,’ chattered Cheatham. “No? . Perhaps the dying confession. of one, Sigmund Gold- schmidt, clockmaker, will enlighten you. There are men- tioned several men who bought mazhines of him, and one of his best customers was a certain Darius Cheatham, agent and ‘attorney-at-law.” “It’s a lie! That’s a brother of mine.’ “Too thin, gentlemen. I have warrants for your arrest.” “Upon what charges?” “Conspiring against the life and liberty of Pierce Van Clief, shipping explosive materials with mali¢ious intent, abuse of the lunacy laws, and endeavoring to obtain money under false pretenses.” “T acknowledge miteit beaten,” said Van Clief, shall never take me to prison. I defy you!” He sprang toward a large window behind him, and, before any one could stop him, went crashing through the BIARS and disappeared. The raseally doctor attempted to escape in the excitement, but Harold seized him and forced him into a seat, panting. and out of breath, He was taken with an apoplectic fit in an instant, and rolled upon the floor in agony, foaming at the mouth, and uttering the most frightful shrieks. “put you In a few moments two men entefted the room, led by Van, + and bearing between them something. which they laid upon a a velvet sofa, and covered with a sheet. ; It was John Van Glief, bleeding, bruised and dead, the ‘fall from the window having ‘broken his neck, killing him in- ” stantly. Cheatham, pale and trembling, was led away by the police, and Van was left alone to watch by the side of his dead uncle,* There has heen a reckoning inged, and the villains have dearly paid for their crimes, two with their lives and one by imprisonment for life. It seemed that a brief dispatch, announcing the death of the German clockmaker, and intimating that he had made a con- rage “Anyhow, I am safe 4, i } fession, having been received by the newspapers, a request for | 7 more detailed information had been called for, and a list of persons implicated had been returned. Cheatham confessed, and $s sent to prison, where he died in a year, regretted by no one, and leaving considerable prop- erty behind him, which was eaten up by legal disputes in a a short time. Van's uncle being dead, the boy soon came into his bispette: and is now a wealthy man, the sale of his father’s diamonds: alone realizing a large amount. They were not all sold, however, for the largest and finest ones were made into a necklace and other ornaments, which was a wedding present from Van to his wife, once known. as Lena Goldschmidt. — ! Harlowe still lives, and is the owner and comman nder of a noble vessel, plying between New York and the IWast Indies, - ‘ and kioewn as the Sargasso, in meen of one of the most, ex: eiting periods of his’life, Harold has’ reformed, and is, one of Van's best. friends, not t even excepting old Chipps, who is as moderate as he ever was, and who still loves to deliver temperance lectures, with tha old-time consequences, be it remembered, and who with, Vay and Harlowe has much to say concerning the’ time when to: gether ‘they spent Bive YEARS IN THE Grassy SEA,” es : THE END.
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Ss |. Eee: LUCK 32 PAGES. sae Dick Decker, the Brave Young see a by Ex Fire Chief Warden S23 The Awe Boy Brokers; or, From Meadenger Boys to Million- by a Retired Banker 3 Tittle. Tae, the Pride of the ageanentel Army. <A Story of ae the American Revolution, by General Jas. A. Gordon 4 Railroad Ralph, the Boy Engineer, 4 The Boy Pilot of Lake Michigan, by Capt. Thos. H. ue ilson 6 Joe Wiley, the Youn Jevapeeance Lecturer, by Jno. B. Dowd 7 The ponte Swamp Fox, A Tale of General Marion and His ; Mer by General Jas, A. Gordon 8 raiier Grizzly ee the Wild Beast Tamer. <A Trt ie % Story of Circus Life, by Hal Standish ' 9 North Pole Nat; or, The Secret of the Frozen Deep, : a by Capt. Thos. H, Wilson 10 Little Deadshot, the Pride of the Trappers, by an Old Scout 11 Liberty Hose; or, The Pride of Plattsville, by Ex Fire Chief Warden ire) Engineer Steve, the Prince of the Rail, by Jas, C. Merritt 113 Whistling Walt, the Champion Spy. "A Story of the Ameri- Bhs ean Revolution, by General Jas. A. Gordon _ * 14 Lost in the Air; or, Over Land and Sea, by Allyn Draper : ee oo The Little Demon; or, Plotting Against the Czarg Pe oS by Haw ard Austin 16 p ‘red’ Farrell, the Barkeeper's Son, ‘by Jno. B. Dowd Vy Slippery Steve, the Cunning Spy of the Revolution, ~~ by General Jas.-A. Gordon 18 Bred Flame, the Hero oj Greystone No. 1, ~ by Ex Fire Chief Warden p Harry Dare; or, A New York Boy in the ‘Navy, by Col. Ralph Fenton 20 Jack Quick, the Boy Engineer, by Jas. C, Merritt 21 Doublequick, the King Harpooner; or, The Wonder of the _ Whalers, . by Capt. Thos. H. Wilson 22 Rattling Rube, the Jolly Scout and Spy. A Story of the Revolution, by General Jas, A. Gordon 3. In the Czar's Service; or, Dick Sherman in Russia, by Howard Austin reid o’ the Bowl: or, The Road to Ruin, by Jno, B. Dowd Kit Carson, the King of the Scouts, by an Old Scout the School- Poy Explorers; or, Among the Ruins of Yueatan, : by Boward Austin The Wide Awakes: or, Burke Halliday, the Pride of the Volunteers, © y Ex Fire Chief Warden ‘The ‘Frozen Deep; or, Two' Years in the” dee, on by Capt. Thos, H. Wilson 29 he Swamp Rats; or, The Boys Who Fought For Washing- by General Jas, A. Gordon by Howard Austin sushwhacker Ben; or, The Union Boys of Tennessee; by Col. Ralph Fenton Rival Roads; or, From Engineer to President, by Tas. ‘C. Merritt e Boy ‘Volunteers; or, The Boss ae Company of the ieee. y Ex Fire Chief Warden mm Bootblack to Senator; or, Bound ‘to Make His Way, by Hal Standish A Story of the Great Rebel- lion, by Coneral Jas. A. Gordon ‘ob the Sie vs; Story of Life in New Hone by Howard Austin o Year att, y Capt. Thos. H. Wilson ‘ys Ready; : or, The, eee Engineer oe the gree by Jas. C. Merritt 9 Out oA Butfalo Bill; or, Six New York Boye in the Wild is by An Old Scout ts of Black Cliff Hall, by Hal Standish ene a kine, or, ‘he Realms of the Sea, ‘by Berton Bertrew poke! ie onasesal The Outlaws 2 Tipperary, ‘The 4 rie Firemen of oe by Ex Vire Chief f Warden by Allyn Draper y Jas. C. Merritt: by Cor peal Morgan in Rattler: THE HANDSOMEST PUBLISHED! ~~ Contains Ait Sorts or Tags. EVERY STORY COMPLETE. BEAUTIFULLY COLORED COVERS. Vor will: os Sent to Any Radney on. Sy tye LUGK. PRICE 5 CENTS, 45 The Wolf Hunters of Minnesota, by Jas. C. Merritt ; 46 Larry Lee, the Young Lighthouse Keeper, z py Capt. Thos, H. Wilson f 47 The White World; or, The Slaves of Siberia, by Howard Austin 48 Headlight Tom, the Boy Engineer, by Jas. C, Merritt 49 The White Boy Chief; or, The Terror of the North Platte, : by an Old Scout % 4 50 The Phantom Fireman; or, The My stery of Mark Howland’s Lif by Fx Fire Chief Warden 51 The Magic Mountain. A Story of Exciting Adventure, oy Howard Austin 2 The Lost Treasure Ship; or, In Search ot a Million in pais Yas by ar, Thos. H, Wilson 53 The Red Caps; or, The Fire Boys of Boyls by Ex "Bire Chief Warden | 54 A Scout at 16; or, A Boy’s Wild Life on the Frontier, ae by An Old Scout 5 Ollie, the Office Boy; or, The Struggles of a Poor Waif, _ by Allym Draper. 56 On Board the School-Ship St. Mary’s; or, The Plucky Fight of a Boy Orphan, by Capt. Thos, H. Wilson 57 Fighting With Washington; or, The Boy Regiment of the Revolution, by’ General Jas. A. Gordo 58 Dashing Dick, the Young Cadet; or, Four Years at West Point, by Howard Austin 59 Stanley’s Béy Magician; or, Lost in Africa, by Jas. C. Merritt — 60 The Boy Mail Carrier; or, Government Service 1 y An Ola Se : : y An Ole 61 Roddy, the Call Boy; or, Born to Be an Actor, 62 A Fireman at Sixtéen; or, Through Flame and Smoke, i - ix Fire Chief Warden 63 Lost at the South Pole; or, The Kingdom of Ice, ° by Capt. Thos, H. Wilso 64 A Poor Irish Boy; or, Fighting His Own Way, : y Corp. Morgan Ru 65 Monte Cristo, Jr.; or, The Diamends of the Borgias, ~ by Howard by Jas. C. M sa ica y Howard ‘Austin ae 68 The pucee House Boys; or, The Young Piones of the Great. . La by An Old 69 From "Bootblack to Broker; or, The Luck of fi Wall Street, Boy by A Retired Broker: 70 E iguteen Diamond Eyes; or, ‘The Nine- Headed Idol of Cey- _ by Berton B 7 Phil, nthe Boy Fireman; or, Through Flames to Victor. by Ex Fire Chi 66 Robinson Crusoe, Jr., 67 Jack Jordan of New York: or, A Nervy Youn 72 The Boy Silver King; or, The Mystery of ‘Iwo MA ie ‘by 73 The Floating School; or, Dr. Bircham’s Bad Boys’ cade ned by Howard At 74 Frank Fair in Congress; or, A Boy Among Our Lawmakers by Hal ie Sinai fe 75 Dunning & Co., the Boy Brokers, Broker . 76 The Rocket; or, Adventures in the Air, 77 Tire First Glass; or, The Woes of Wine. 73 Will, the Whaler, by Capt. ‘Thos, 79 The Demon of the Desert, by 80 Captain Lucifer; or, The Secret of the Slave Shi Ship ‘ oward ‘s My in. 7 ‘81 Nat o' the Night, ey Berton te rew 82 The Search for the Sunken Ship, by Capt. Thos, Do 83 Dick Duncan; or, The Blight of the Bowl, by Jno. B. 84 Daring Dan, the ‘Pride of the Pedee, by General Ja: 85 The Iron Spirit; or, The Mysteries of the Binks ; _by Sa - Rolly Rock; or, Chasing the Mountain Bandits, 87 Five Years in the Grassy Sea, by Capt. T 88 The Mysterious. Cave, ,
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' TEN CENT HAND BOOKS.—Continued from page 2 of cover, THE STAGE. No. 41. THE BOYS OF NEW YORK END MEN’S JOKE BOOK.—Containing a great variety of the latest jokes used by the most famous end men. No amateur minstrels is complete without; this wonderful little book. No. 42. THEH BOYS OF NEW YORK STUMP SPEAKEHR.— Containing a varied assortment of stump speeches, Negro, Dutch and Irish. Also end men’s jokes. Just the thing for home amuse- ment and amateur shows. No. 45. THE BOYS OF NEW YORK MINSTREL GUIDE AND JOKE BOOK.—Something new and very instructive. Every boy should obtain this book,‘as it contains full instructions for or- ganizing an amateur minstrel troupe. No. 65. MULDOON’S JOKES.—This is one of the most original joke books ever published, and it is brimful of wit and humor. It eontains a large collection of songs, jokes, conundrums, ete., of Terrence Muldoon, the great wit, humorist, and practical joker of the day. Every boy who can enjoy a good substantial joke should obtain a ak immediately. No..79.. HOW TO BECOME AN ACTOR.—Containing. com- plete instructions how to make up for various characters on the stage; together with the duties of the Stage Manager, Prompter, Scenic Artist and Property Man. By a prominent Stage Manager. : HOUSEKEEPING. No. 16. HOW TO KEEP A WINDOW GARDEN.—Containing full instructions for constructing a window garden either in town or country, and the.most approved methods for raising beautiful “tee at home. The most complete book of the kind ever pub- jlished. pe: i No. 30. HOW TO COOK.—One of the most instructive books fon couking ever published. It contains recipes for cooking meats fish, game, and oysters; also pies, puddings, cakes and all kinds o pastry, and a grand collection of recipes by one of our most popular cooks. t No. 37. HOW TO KEEP HOUSE.—It contains information for Severybody, boys, girls, men and women; it will teach you how to make almost anything around the house, such as parlor ornaments, *bracketa, cements, Aeolian harps, and bird lime for catching. birds. ELECTRICAL. No. 46. HOW TO MAKE AND USE ELECTRICITY.—A de- scription of the wonderful uses of electricity and electro magnetism ; together with full instructions for making Hlectric Toys, Batteries, fete. By George Trebel, A. M., M. D. Containing over fifty il- :lustrations. No. 64 HOW TO MAKE ELECTRICAL. MACHINES.—Con- taining full directions for making electrical machines, induction eoils, Pairs, and many novel toys to be worked by electricity. R. A. R. Bennett. Fully, illustrated. ; o. 67. HOW TO DO BLECTRICAL TRICKS,—Containing a large collection of instructiye and highly amusing electrical tricks, together with illustrations. By A. Anderson. ENTERTAINMENT No. 9. HOW TO BECOME A VENTRILOQUIST.—By Harry Kennedy. The secret given away. Wyery intelligent boy reading this book of instructions, by a practical professor (delighting multi- tudes every night with his wonderful imitations). can master the art, and create any amount of fun for himself and friends. It is the greatest book ever published, and there's millions (of fun) in it. No. 20. HOW TO PNTERTAIN AN EBYENING PARTY.—A very yaluable little book just published. A complete compendium of games, sports, card diversions, comic recreations, etc., suitable for parlor or drawing-room entertainment. It contains more for the money than any book published, No. 35. HOW TO PLAY GAMDS.—A complete and useful little book, containing the: rules and regulations of billiards, bagatelle, N backgammon, croquet, dominoes, etc. No. 36. HOW TO SOLYE CONUNDRUMS,.— Containing all the leading conundrums of the day, amusing riddles, curious catches and Mi Sark . HOW TO PLAY CARDS.—A comiplete and handy little book, giving the rules and full directions for playing Huchre, Crib- bage, Oasino, Forty-Five, Rounce, Pedro Sancho, Draw Poker, Auction Pitch, All Fours, and many other popular games of cards. No. 66. HOW TO DO PUZZLES.—Containing over three hun- dred interesting A uzzles ‘and conundrums, with key to same. complete book. ‘ally illustrated. By A. Anderson. ETIQUETTE. No. 18. HOW TO DO IT; OR, BOOK OF ETIQUETTE. It “ = fea eat life peers and ‘one that, every young man desires to know ¥ ‘all about. ere’s happiness in it, } e No. 38. HOW TO BEHAVE.—Containing the rules . and etiquette of good society and the easiest and most approved methods Of appearing to good advantage at parties, balls, the theatre, church, and in the drawing-room. DECLAMATION. No. 27. HOW TO RECITE AND BOOK OF RECITATIONS. =-Containing the most popular selections in use, comprising Dutch ect, French iit, ennre and Irish dialect pieces, together Ww. many standard readings. No. 33. HOW TO BECOME A SPEAKER.—Containing four- teen illustrations, giving the different positions requisite to become the popular authors of prose and poetry, arranged in the most le.and concise manner possible. 0. 49. HOW TO DEBATH.—Giving rules for conducting de- bates, outlines for debates, questions for discussion, and the best sources for procuring information on the questions given. hd ee ee a rN SOCIETY. No. 3. HOW TO FLIRT.—The arts and wiles of flirtation fully explained by this little book. Besides the various methods handkerchief, fan, glove, parasol, window and hat flirtation, it cem- tains a full list of the language and sentiment of flowers, which fs interesting to everybody, both old and young. You cannot be happy without one. _No. 4. HOW TO DANCH is the title of a new and handsome little book just issued by Frank Tousey. It contains full instrue- tions in the art of dancing, etiquette in the ball-room and at parties, Een to dress, and full directions for calling off in all popular square ances. i No. 5. HOW TO MAKE LOVE.—A complete guide to loys, courtship and marriage, giving sensible advice, rules and etiquette to be observed, with many curious and interesting things not gen- erally known, No. 17. HOW TO DRESS.—Containing full instruction in the art of dressing and appeering well at home and abroad, giving the selections of colors, material, and how to have them made up. No. 18. HOW TO BECOME BEAUTIFUL.—One. of the brightest and most valuable little books ever given to the world. Everybody wishes to know how to become beautiful, both male and female. The secret is simple, and almost costless. Read this bool and be convinced how to become beautiful. BIRDS AND ANIMALS. No. 7. HOW TO KEEP BIRDS.—Handsomely.illustraced amt containing full instruetions for the management and training of the be ee speaker, reader and clocutionist. Also containing gems from | canary, mocking-bird, bobolink, blackbird, paroquet, parrot, ete. No. 39. HOW TO RAISE DOGS, POULTRY, PIGHONS ANB RABBITS,.—A useful and instructive book. Handsomely illustrat ed.’ By Ira Drofraw. No. 40. HOW TO MAKH AND SHT TRAPS.—Including hints on how. to catch moles, weasels, otter, rats, squirrels and birda. pee how to cure skins, Copiously illustrated. By. J. Harringtes eene. No. 50. HOW TO -STUFF: BIRDS AND ANIMALS.—& valuable book, giying instructions in collecting, preparing, mounting and preserying birds, anithals and insects. No. 54. HOW TO KERP AND MANAGE PHTS.—-Giving cone plete information as to the manner and method of raising, keeping, taming, breeding, and managing all kinds of pets; also giving fa, instructions for ‘making cages, ete. Fully explained by twenty-eight illustrations, making it the most complete book of the kind evew published. MISCELLANEOUS. No. 8. HOW TO BECOME A SCIENTIST.—A useful and im structive book, giving a complete treatise on chemistry; also @x< periments in acoustics, mechanics, mathematics, chemistry, and @i« rections for making fireworks, colored fires, and gas balloons. book cannot be equaled, i No. 14. HOW TO MAKE CANDY.—~A complete hand-book eg making all kinds of eandy, ice-cream, syrups, essences, éte., ete, No. 15. HOW-TO BECOM® RICH.—This wonderful book pre= sents you with the example and life experience of some of the momi noted and wealthy men im the world, including the self-made mi of our country. he book is edited by one of the most ‘successful men of the present age, whose own example is in itself guide enough for those who aspire to fame and money. ‘The book will give you the secret. FRANK TOUSEY’S UNITED STATHS DISTANGE No. 19. TABLES, POCKPT. COMPANION AND GUIDE.—Giving the official distances on all the railroads of the United States and Canada.. Also, table of distances by water to foreign ports, fares in the principal cities, reports of the census, ete., ete., making it one of the most complete and handy books published, No. 88. HOW TO BECOME YOUR OWN DOCTOR.—A won+ derful book, containing useful and practical information in thé, treatment of ordinary diseases and ailments common to every family. Abounding in useful and effective recipes for general com- laints. : No. 41. THH BOYS OF NEW. YORK END MEN'S JOKE BOOK.— Containing a great variety of the latest jokes used by the most famous end men. No amateur minstrels is complete withoud this wonderful little book. No. 55. HOW TO COLLECT STAMPS AND COINS,—Gone+ taining valuable information regarding the collecting and arranging of stamps and coins. Handsomely illustrated. No. 58. HOW TO BE A DETECTIVH.—By Old King B S the world-known detective. In which he lays down some yalua and sensible rules for beginners, and also relates some adventures and experiences of well-known. detectives. No. 60. HOW’ TO BECOME A PHOTOGRAPHHR.—Oontain- ing useful information regarding the Camera and how to work it; also how to make Photographic Magic Lantern Slides and other Transparencies. Handsomely illustrated. By Captain W. De W: Abney- No, 62. HOW TO BECOME A WEST POINT MILITARY CADET.—Containing full explanations how to gain admibtan course of Study, Examinations, “Duties, Staff of Officers, P. Guard, Police Regulations, Fire Department, and all a shoulé know to be a Cadet. Compiled and written by Lu Senarens, Author of “How to Become a Naval Cadet.” No. 63. HOW TO BECOME A NAVAL CADHT.—Complete in- structions of how to, gain admission to the Annapolis Naval Academy... Also containing the course of instruction, descriptiona of grounds and buildings, historical sketch, and everything @ boy should know t6 become an rin the United States Si. Come jled and written by Lu author of “How to a est Point Military Cadet.” PRICE 10 CENTS FACH OR 3 FOR 25 CENTS. Address, FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York, 5
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THIS STORY IS PUBLISHED IN No. 54 OF SECRET SERVICE OLD AND YOUNG KING BRADY, DETECTIVES. IT IS OUT TO-DAY. PRICE 5 CENTS. r Issued Weekly—By Subscription $2.50 per year Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York Post Office, by Frank Tousey. No.’ 54. NEW YORK, FEBRUARY 2, 1900. Price 5 Cents. HE MYSTERY oF SCHOOL No6. Bya NewYork Detective _ SNS Ny Hang you! why don't you do as I tell you?” yelled the villainous tutor as he gave Ben a cut with the long lash. Young King Brady grabbed him around the waist as Old King Brady yelled, ‘“‘That’s the boy, Harry!”