Boys' Life 1924-03: Vol 14 Iss 3

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31 Femmes including ‘‘The mane 3 Flight of ZR-10’’—a Craig Kennedy Story a yf eae, BOY scours’ MAGAZINE BIGGER AND Bi ERE RY WAY-FOR ALL > . MARCH 1924 oe sitesi Six Great Animal Stories—Dinosaur and Alley Cat; Polar Bear and Horse; Tiger and Kangaroo

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NEAGLE be The Old Scout Says: “The Old Wild West Days Are Past and Gone. Nowadays You Don’t Have To Go West To Be A Crack Shot.” *“When I was a little shaver,’’ said the Old Scout one day, as he found the boys practising fancy shooting, just after a Wild West show had been to town, “‘nearly every boy I knew wanted to run away and go ’way out West “The Happy Daisy Boy” and kill Injuns. ““We don’t kill Injuns any more. Uncle Sam rounds ’em up, and boards and lodges ’em free at government expense. “But I’m mighty glad, just the same, to see you boys practisin’ to be crack shots, but get this straight. You don’t have to leave home to learn to shoot, and there are just as many boys today in the East as in the West, who have practised with their Daisy Air Rifle until they are mighty fine marksmen. “And the big object in life ain’t to kill Injuns, but to make keen, straight-shootin’, straight-thinkin’ and straight-actin’ men out o’ yourselves. “‘Some of the finest, keenest business men I know today still like to shoot and hunt whenever they get a few days off from their business. Of course they don’t use Daisy The Daisy Pump Gun, 50-shot repeater, shown in the illustration above in the hands of the *“*Happy Daisy Boy,”’’ is the handsomest air rifle made today. It has the same pump action as found in the highest type of modern hunting rifle. Wonderful value for ....... ° 00 Air Rifles now, but the point is they learned to shoot with a Daisy. “With your Daisy, you’ve got a gun that will shoot just as straight, and looks just as fine, as the big huntin’ rifle your father owns. And if you learn to shoot right with your Daisy, you’re just naturally fixed so as you can graduate into the huntin’ rifle class as soon as you’ve grown into it. “Now, just look at this here Daisy Pump Gun. Ain’t she a wonder? Ever see a gun look any snappier? With your Daisy Pump Gun, you’ve got a rifle any boy will be proud to own. Millions of men learned to shoot witha Daisy, and they’reproud tosay so, too.” The Military Daisy, 50-shot repeater, looks sur- prisingly like the guns our boys carried ‘‘over there’’ with a strap and removable bayo- met -- = = - = = = ses © = ses = = .00 Other Models, $1.00 to $4,00. If your hardware or sporting goods dealer does not carry the Daisy Pump Gun, or other Daisy models in stock, we will send the model you want, prepaid on receipt of price. Illustrated descriptive circular sent free. DAISY MANUFACTURING COMPANY, Plymouth, Mich. Pacific Coast Branch: PHIL. B. BEKEART COMPANY, Managers 717 Market Street, San Francisco, Cal. Southern Representatives: LOUIS WILLIAMS & COMPANY 28 Noel Block, Nashville, Tenn. 4 BS! 2 a poys’ LIFE, The Boy Scouts" Magazine, Published Mc —y by the Boy Scouts of America, 200 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 20 Cents aCopy. $2.00a Year. March, 1924, Vol. XIV, Copyright, 1924, by the Boy Scouts of America. wed as second-class matter, July 19, 1912, at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., under the Act of March 3, 1879° Acceptance for mailing at special rate postage provided for in 2,8 1103, Act of Deen 8 1917, June 13, 1918.

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BOYS’ LIFE N « THE HEROES OF TO-DAY | I 3 4 a ‘ a de Scout Horace Viner, a member of Troop No. 15 and living at 1439 So. Corona St., Denver, Colo., nearly lost his life in saving a boy friend and thereby bd won the Silver Medal for Heroism. | The boys were crossing a river on logs Pra ih ae Lh when one boy slipped into the river where Eeciananaadaintiee there weredeepholesandstrongcurrents. ene ety some a a ad Young Viner leaped to the rescue, but statis etth altel om. the other boy, in fear of death, clutched graved as above — to desperately at Viner. For a moment it ae is looked as if both might be lost. Viner 2 finally broke the other boy’s grip on him | and made a fine rescue. By means of first aid the boy was brought back to 4 consciousness. a ® SCOUT HORACE VINER Troop No. 15. Denver. Colo =. n at : | FR REMINGTON— | | ab | h ife for C Lif | | il the/ Knife for Camp Life | : at i | gee at the fellpws fn most any camp— After the work is done | * about the first/thing you see is a out come the a : H| Remington Official Ycout Knife. R ° Ri fl 1 ) ‘4 in ' iH Bill, snipping int the canned stuff. emington 1TLes ' | a in tial Maybe it’s target practice or ip to the fia Lefty, whittlingy shavings for the fire, pm for old oa ho “ae mp ) ; : patie eek for o . Muskrat. v? ial looking a little awkward but getting it done. , | | cians ti : ene hi People put full dependence on Remington a 1 ppenin uncnin ° ° . 8 heli i o —_— sd a bottle, punching = —and they have a right to. Remington has s | a nole in iea ° : ‘ a ny See: earned their confidence. q | Some knife#so good it is the “Official , : a Remington Arms Co., Inc. ork Cit e Knife—Boy Scouts of America”. A man- 8 Establishe at ~ ae y a size knife, an all-purpose tool, built for — : ‘ib camp life, | Remington ‘ Official , 8 And made to the Remington standards K ages Scouts 7 | ° es of A ca’ of mechanical precision weaned at | a * | CEMINLLO at copceme teen = | w Model 12 Repeating Rifle | Shoots .22 Short, 22 Longang THE AUTHORITY in FIRE ARMS, AMMUNITION Ano CUTLERY 22 Long Rifle Cartridges Write for circular Also Makers of Remington Cash Registers | 2 | — March

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March, 1924 = 3 WOODROW WILSON Born Dec. 28th 1856—Died Feb. 3, 1924 Twenty-eighth President of the United States Second Honorary President of the Boy Scouts of America ‘Here lies a man who helped his fellow men.’”’ Woodrow Wilson could not have a truer line than that upon his tombstone. And no man could hope for higher praise. Some men ask for riches. Woodrow Wilson asked for a chance to serve. All ‘the reward he wished was the noble fame that follows after faithful service. In boyhood he began to fit himself to become a great public servant. He told his friends that he would one day be President of the United States He meant it. He studied English so that he might say for others what they could not say so well for themselves. He studied law, so that he might know how to make wise laws. He studied history, so that he might know how other men had wisely governed. Then Woodrow Wilson followed the Bible precept, ‘‘Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.’” Teaching in a women’s college might not seem to others a road to the Presidency, but Wilson knew that men are pro- moted to places of honor and trust for how well they do things, rather than for what they do. His work at Bryn Mawr was a proof of another high quality of big men: it was an act of Faith. Men who are sure of themselves, men who see far ahead, have faith. They know that their chance will come. Meanwhile, they exercise their minds and characters at whatever comes to hand to do, just as boxers exercise their minds and muscles at rope-skipping and handball. Wilson knew that if he kept his mind in training and his heart exercised with honest work well done, the day would come when a bigger chance would open up, and then he would be ready, like the trained boxer when he steps into the ring. Read the story of his life, and see how this prophecy came true The trained young professor at Bryn Mawr becomes the trained professor at Princeton. That job well done, he becomes President of the University. That job well done, men turn to him when they need a big Governor of New Jersey. That job well done, men turn to him for a leader of the Nation. Woodrow Wilson, the President, was a man who served his way to the White House. He fought all his life for others. He wanted life to be more just, and happier, for all men, and not for a few. He hated injustice and tyranny. At the Peace Conference, he did all he could to throw off from the backs of the peoples of Europe the yoke of old systems of royalty and aristocracy that had lived on the life’s blood of the millions below them. He tried to get a chance for little Nations oppressed by big Nations. Woodrow Wilson helped others. That proved he was always young at heart, tor it is the finest attribute of young people that they wish to help. Older folks may grow selfish. Youth thinks of others. Perhaps we ought to change the line we suggested for his epitaph, and make it read: ‘‘Here lies a man whose heart was always young ”’ WOODROW WILSON For eight years Honorary President of the Boy Scouts of America On May 19, 1917, he invited all scouts and leaders to lend their aid in the sale of Liberty Loan Bonds. an invitation that w: as repeated in connection with each Liberty Loan Campaign and for the sale of War Sz aving Stamps On December 3. 1917, he designated Boy Scouts as Government ~~ hh. Bearer to carry to the homes of the country ’ Governments al information on the On January 14, 1918, he wrote: “The fine efficiency of the Boy Recut America in serving the Country must. of course, be maintained.’ In Paris. 1919. while engaged on the Treaty of Peace, he took time tocablea proclama- tion to this Country, recommending the observance of BOY SCOU T WE EK through out the United States from June 8th to June 14th, in which he said ‘The Boy Scou Movement should not only be prese rved but stre nathe ned. It deserves the support of all public-spirited citizens. . . . America cannot acquit herself commensurately wit her power and influence in ‘the great period now facing ‘her and the world unless the boys of America are given better « opportunities than heretofore to prepare themselves for the responsibilities of citizenship.’ As President. Mr. Wilson made full and grateful acknowledgment of the many services which Boy Scouts officially rendered the Government during the period of the War He seized upon every occasion to use his influence for the advancement of the Boy Scout Movement, because it was his expressed belief that * Anything that is done t increase the effectiveness of the Boy Scouts of America will be a genuine contributior to the welfare of the Nation

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EQuBNE & f FaANOLEN 4 HE snow was deep, how deep none cared. The great, white blanket swept northward over the range to Rupert’s House, southward beyond the ramparts of Quebec, eastward and westward to where sea spume froze on jagged rocks. All the world seemed white aud the great silence was broken only by the boom of frost quake and the snap of contracting lakes. High stars gleamed cold in a blue-black sky, the lean brown stumps of the brule cast but a faint shadow as the moon crept slowly upward. There was but one hint of warmth, the pale gleam of a lamp through the frosted window of the drift-buried house by the side of that which in summer was the railroad. Snowshoes leaned against the wall on either side of the door. \bove one a cheap thermometer registered 45 degrees below. Che dog sled was half hidden in a forming drift; from the lean- to came the dream bark of an uneasy husky. Within, a woman drew a faded shawl about thin shoulders and without taking her eyes from her sewing, breathed swiftly on stiff fingers. ““Wood, son,” she murmured and again the needle flew in and out. There was a quick flutter of paper, the thud of a magazine on the plank table, the soft rustle of moccasins on the bare floor. As the hungry fire licked its food, its flare made the stocky figure of the boy stand out against the drab of the room. The shoulders were broad, the back supple, the flanks lean. The head was well formed, the hair black and straight but no blacker than the keen, straightforward eyes. He was neither handsome nor well dressed, he was not quite sixteen, he had never seen a movie nor ridden on a trolley, but he could run white water or call a moose, could Joe Post. rhe click of the closing stove was the only sound. The boy was back in his chair with no more noise than a shadow For a long minute the needle flew. ‘What are you reading now, son?” “* Magazine Billy Snaborn left in his camp. take ’em all.” “What’s it about? “ Ah-ah.”’ He told me to That Boy Scout thing?” BOYS’ LIFE By Brewer Corcoran Illustrated by Eugene M. Frandzen Joe was half carrying, half dragging the fur-bundled figure “ Billy’s a nice boy. I hope they’ll come in for all summer this year.” “So do I. Mr. Snaborn said he’d take me on as a spare guide, if they did. I could use the spare cash all right.” She smiled wanly. It was a desire she could fully com- prehend. Because she was lonesome and discouraged, because she wanted to hear his voice more than because she was curious, she looked across the table. “What for?” she asked. A trace of deeper color surged into the wind-bronzed cheeks but the eyes were raised from the page to meet hers frankly. “Bill told me a lot about the Boy Scouts last summer,” he said evenly; “he’s one and he wants me to be one.” “T guess you know a pile more about the woods and things than Billy Snaborn,” she stated with all a mother’s loyalty. “T looked at your magazines yesterday and there was a story about hunting.” “That’s only a tiny little part of Scouting, Mother, not the real part at all. Bill says you have to be loyal an | truthful and square, have to do a good deed every day and help every- body you can and—— Her gentle laugh broke the torrent of explanation. ‘“‘ You’re my Boy Scout, Joe; if that’s all there is to it, I guess you can teach Billy a lot.” “Oh, but it isn’t half or quarter, Mother,” he rushed on. ‘You join a patrol and a troop and go to courts of honor and camps and get merit badges and wear a uniform an’—an everythin’.”’ “But there have to be other boys, if you join things, Joe,” she argued ‘“*S’pose so,”” he agreed, a trifle dejectedly. “S’pose you’re right. But Bill said somethin’ about your bein’ able to be a lone scout. I’m tryin’ to find out something about that. Maybe I'll find I can be one of that sort.” A shadow flitted across her face. Being a mother, she understood what it meant to have a playmate but one month in twelve. ‘It would be nice if you could, Joe,’’ she said. ‘*Maybe I could learn things so’s I could be one with you.” “You’d have to be a Girl Scout,” he laughed. ‘And I'll say they’d have to give you all the merit badges for cooking!” “T don’t believe I’d get any for sewing,” she said with a queer smile, holding up the little skirt she was working on, to measure it with her eyes. “It’s too small; I thought I had flannel enough.” “*Marie’s grown fast,” he agreed. “She has. -She needs this, too. We can’t afford to buy her a new dress this winter.” “Father’s got some good pelts so far,” he suggested hope- fully. “But he can’t sell them till spring, Joe. And he’s had a lot of his traps robbed, too. We have to eat.” “T know. He ought to let me go with him all the time.” “No,” she answered firmly. ‘“He’s right about that. It’s no life for you here in the wilderness, if we can fit you for the one outside. That’s why he wants you to stay here and do your lessons with me. We want you to be something better than a backwoodsman, son.” “There’s no better man than father,” he stated, a bit surprised. “There is not,” she agreed instantly. ‘It’s because he’s what he is that he wants you to have the advantages which he couldn’t have and which I only had a few of.” OR a moment the pages‘ of the magazine were turned thoughtfully. “I guess,” he said at last, “you and dad are both Boy Scouts, if unselfishness counts for anything. How much would new flannel for Sis’s dress cost, Mother?” “Two dollars at least. Why?” He was on his feet now, striding toward the doorway be- yond which was his bunk. In another moment he came back, a doeskin bag in his hand, his fingers busy with the strings. In a second a slender stream of small coins rattled across the table and stubby fingers were busy with the counting. “Here’s a dollar eighty,” he said; “take it for Sis.” “Why, Joe! I didn’t know you had any left, after buying your books and mackinaw.”’ “Had that,” he said with a laugh. “Sorter scrimped on some things.” “But that wasn’t like you, son. You must have done it for some reason. What were you saving it for?” “You take it and never mind,” he laughed. “Tell me, Joe.” “All right. I’d just assoon. It was sorter foolish though, I guess. You see it was this way, Mother. Billy wanted to get a new scout uniform last summer. So he did chores round camp an’ his father paid him. Sometimes I had time to help and Mr. Snaborn paid me, too. Sorter as a joke on Bill, I guess,” he added lamely. ‘I don’t need any uniform and Sis does need a petticoat. Guess I’d never make much of a scout anyway. I’m too fat,” he added gaily. ‘You take that money and show me a cooky. I'll do a trick with it for you—turn it into a boy right before your eyes.” She could not see the jar very clearly as she nodded toward it. It was like the boy to make such a sacrifice with a smile. For a second her teeth closed over her lip to steady it. Then her head went back. The boy, too, stopped as if frozen. Another, then another of the huskies joined in the sudden outburst. ‘“ What’s that?” she asked. “Dunno.” He was across the room and at the door in two strides. ‘Must be someone.” The yelps changed to howls of joy. exclaimed. ‘What brings him back?” She, too, was in the doorway, utterly unconscious of the freezing gusts. She saw a figure staggering across the snow, another leaping toward it. Her hands clutched her cheeks, a little cry came through the parted lips. The un- expectedness of her husband’s return told her enough; some- thing was wrong. “Your father!” she T SEEMED hours; it was only seconds before Joe had twisted the tired feet out of the snowshoe thongs and was half carrying, half dragging the fur-bundled figure into the room. “’Sall right, Nell,” the man managed to gasp. “Nothin’ to worry ’bout. Only an arm.” She was busy now, but busy with the gentleness which is only found in a woman’s hand. The heavy jacket bound across his shoulder came off first. Then they saw the rude attempt at bandaging, the blood-soaked sleeve with it’s telltale hole. ‘Who did it?” snapped Joe. “Never mind, get me some hot water,” ordered his mother. “Push the teapot forward. He’ll need some.” “Tt’s broken,” said the man through set teeth. “T know. I'll have to clean the wound first. Can you tell me how to set it?” March

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= age FOR ALL BOYS ‘Tie it on the broom,” he said with a game attempt to smile. “You'll do it, Mother, you can do anything.” She knew she would do her best but that-was small comfort now. The wound in the upper arm was red and clotted. She wanted to know how old it was but was afraid to learn. For twenty minutes she worked in an agony of silence. Not a sound came from the husband’s set lips. Sheer grit had brought him weary miles; there was enough left to see him through this. ‘‘We’ve got to try to set it,’’ she said at last. “T don’t know how.” “Wait!” Joe’s voice was imperative. Ina flash he was out of the room and back. “Bill gave me this,” he explained. “Tt’s the scout book an’ it’s got a lot of first aid stuff. Prob- ably there’s a lot about settin’ arms in it.” “TLook—see, son.” He thumbed the pages hurriedly. “Here’s somethin’,” he cried. ‘Come read it, Mother.” Two heads bent low over the page, the third sank lower on the heaving'chest. Anything they coulddo would be better than what he was enduring. “We'll try it,” she said with set lips. “We've got totryit. Read it aloud, Joe, and read it slowly.” He did. Their anxiety burned the brief directions into their minds for all time. Then they set to work. They knew Post suffered. They could not believe he suf- fered more than they. Each move caused the three agony. But at last it was finished.. ‘““Gimme some tea,’’ he mut- tered and gulped a cupful. “Feel better. Lucky Bill left you that book, son.” The boy nodded, his eyes set anxiously on his father’s face. “T’ll be a scout yet, if this sorter stuff keeps up,” he said with an attempt to smile. “Bill said it was good stuff; I guess it’s better’n he knows.” “Good enough for me,” retorted his father. “So are you two. Marie asleep, Nell?” “Ves. Can you tell us what happened?” The tired face grew set and the strong jaw squared. ‘“‘Was running my line of traps over on Lac de Chien,” he growled. “They’d been robbed, as usual. Picked up a track. It led up through the bog, past the club’s camp and into the timber where the stream comes in.” “T know the place,” nodded Joe. “Tt was gettin’ dark an’ the goin’ was hard. I’d about made up my mind to turn back to the camp for the night an’ pick up the trail again at sunup when I saw somethin’ move in the spruce scrub ahead. Thought at first it was a moose. Next thing I knew there was a crack an’ I was plugged through the arm.” . j 1924 “What'd you do?”’ demanded Joe. “Shot with my left arm, son. But it was no go, I guess. Snap shot in the dark. Reckoned my best bet was to get home before T bogged down. Bed’ll feel good to me.” “But what are you goin’ to do about it? Someone tried to murder you. You can’t let ’em go.” “How can I help it? I’m down an’ out. It’s all in the day’s work, T reckon. Just one more piece of hard luck for you, youngster. You'll have to tend traps now.” “T will. I’m goin’ todo more. I’m goin’ after that man.”’ “You’re not!” cried the mother. ‘ You’ll be shot, too.” “No, I won’t. I know the woods. I’ve got to take father’s place for awhile.” “But you’re only a boy,” she protested. For a moment the father looked at his sturdy, clear-eyed son. “He’s got to be a man sometime, Nell,” he said. “Ben!” “Unless we stop this trap robbin’, Nell, it’s goin’ to be serious for us all. Someone’s got to try; I can’t. It would take a day to get help. The trail’s fresh now.” He turned to the boy. “My pack’s at the club’s camp on de Chien,” he said, “‘so’s my rifle. But don’t use that. Trail your man and recognize him. Then strike for the settlement and tell the deputy. He’ll do the rest. Better take the dogs. Sled- din’s good on the lakes.” LREADY Joe was pulling on heavy stockings. For only a moment his mother was inactive. Then, with white, set face, she began to help him into his furs. “Drink this tea,’’ she said, when he stood before them fully clad, “‘and be careful, Joe.” He nodded shortly to them both. It wasn’t the new weight of responsibility which made him silent. He looked again at his parents, this time longer. ‘Then his head went up and the young lips set in a straight line. “Good night,”’ he muttered. The next instant and they heard him shouting at the yelping huskies. He knew the wilderness. Even in winter he had traveled that long, lonesome trail down the river and over the ridge to the first small chain of lakes. Now, with the dogs fresh, the sled ran fast and he rode three of the first five silent miles. But the winning of the second ridge was a different story. Before he was half-way up, he was sorry he was handicapped by the team. They worked loyally but his arms began to ache with the lifting and he was glad he.had neither pack nor gun. One thing he knew now, he would leave the dogs on de Chien. If he found the ice blown clear, then he would “De han’, she all gone smash” 5 make fast time up the long lake and the huskies would be glad to sleep at the end of the trail. But that seemed a more distant thing with the passing of each slow foot of upward fight. ‘I'wice he stopped for breath. But the bite of the cold warned him to make such halts brief. It seemed an age before he topped the crest and saw the vast blue reaches of the spruce below, broken through the center by the narrow white: ribbon of ice-bound de Chien. The long whip cracked above the tired dogs. With a yell he drove them on and down. , An hour more and he hit the ice. His snowshoes clattered into the sled. The fur cap was pulled close, the collar higher. Again the sharp explosions of that seething whip. His feet on the runners, his head bent low into the dawn wind, his dogs surging into the harness, he flashed out onto the solid lake and flew, in a whirl of snow and frost, to meet the breaking dawn. It was full day when he swung his team to the shore before the snow-buried camp at the head of the lake. The dogs were spent. He had driven them to the limit, for time was precious now. Each minute of daylight meant a longer following trail ahead. But he knew he must stop at the camp to eat. “Wisdom demanded that. The sight of his father’s blood on the floor sickened him, then made his own run hot. For the first time in his life he felt the surging fire of revenge. All he wanted was to see that slinking figure over the sights of the .30-.30. Even before he sliced the bacon he extracted the shells and snapped in a fresh clip. A cold thrill ran up his back but his teeth clicked as he chambered a shell. The tired huskies troubled him for a moment. Then, with reckless hand, he threw them what food was left in his father’s pack, taking only a package of tea and a hunk of bread in his pocket. That would have to see him through. At least he would suffer with his dogs. With a final pat on his leader’s head, he picked up the rifle and went out for his snowshoes. For a time, at least, the dogs would be too tired to fight. And he dared not turn them loose or tie them outside. Their howling might frighten more than a moose. The trail was all too plain. As he followed those uneven, staggering snowshoe tracks, he began to realize what a gunshot wound meant. How his father had made that long trip out, would ever be a mystery to him. It was only one of those things which are made possible by nerve alone. Two hundred yards and he began'to realize that he had nerves of a different sort. For the first time it flooded over (Continued on page 59)

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HERE were only two men in X Troop that could ride Border Boy, the Captain’s big chestnut, and only one that cared to. Jonesy, the trumpeter, was one of the two, but not the one who rode through choice. For if there are one-man dogs there are also one-man horses and such was Border Boy. There was a wild freedom in the toss of his head, a boldness in the gleam of his eye. For all his great size his splendid muscles flexed with the quickness of those of a cat. Any horse or man that approached him without proper respect felt the force of his flying heels. Forgetfulness of this fact cost the lop Sergeant a broken leg, although the Captain protested it was the Top’s mount and not the man that Border Boy let fly at as the Sergeant rode too close to the big horse tied to the picket line. But Jonesy, diminutive yet courageous, had a way with him about horses, an assurance that compelled obedience, and Border Boy, if he withheld his affection for his master, the Captain, yet tolerated Jonesy and was never hostile to him. The Troop, hurried down to the Arizona-Mexican border from a northern climate at a time when Mexican raiders were becoming a pest, ran into an epidemic of ‘flu’ that ravaged the horses. Border Boy was among the first to take the dread disease and no effort was spared by the Captain to pull him out of it. With expert treatment the big horse got off with a light siege and was now almost entirely recovered. But the Captain, taking no chances with his precious charger, had Jonesy take him out daily to graze. On this day Jonesy had ridden out from camp in the after- noon on Border Boy with instructions to graze him until mess time. The bunch grass was scant and scattered and the trumpeter had shifted from one pasturage to another in that half-desert country until he found himself on a hillside several miles from camp overlooking the barbed wire that marks the boundary between the United States and Mexico. He had dismounted and let the horse graze at the end of the reins. lhere was always greener grass just beyond and Border Boy tugged impatiently at his bridle, edging toward a thicket of mesquite. The horse was within a few feet of this thicket when he shied away from it with a quickness and unexpected- ness that nearly brought him on to Jonesy. Jonesy had al- ready guessed the reason of this, for he had heard that peculiar and hair-raising whirr that signals the presence of the deadly rattler Quieting Border Boy, Jonesy saw at the edge of the thicket an enormous snake, head reared and tail a-quiver. Jonesy was not within striking distance and the rattler remained on the defensive. They might have parted in peace but that is not the way of a man with a serpent. Shifting Border Boy’s reins to his left hand Jonesy drew his automatic from its holster and cocked it. His one thought was to kill that venomous snake. . He sighted carefully down the black barrel of the Colt and pulled the trigger. The By Edwin Cole Illustrated by Thomas Skinner £ phen. y fectly. He put on his best smile _/J— and said: ‘“‘Much agracias. aN order forty-five crashed out. The rattler leaped forward convul- sively. Border Be Vv leaped, too. He was not gun-shy and Jonesy had not anticipated this. Per- haps it was fear of the snake. At least the reins were snatched from Jonesy’s hand and the big horse bolted off downhill. Jonesy took one look at the snake writhing in the sand with a broken spinal column and ran after the horse. Border Boy, in real or pretended fright, was in full gallop toward the barbed wire fence but a few hundred feet away. Had this been in proper repair it might have turned the animal aside. But the upper stand was broken. It offered little obstacle to the downhill course of the big chestnut. Presently to Jonesy’s consternation he saw the horse bunch his feet and sail easily over the fence into Mexico. A few paces beyond the fence was a shallow arroyo or dry bed of a stream. Border Boy clattered down into this and Jonesy caught one glimpse of his head before the animal dis- appeared down the course of it between rising banks. Jonesy ran on desperately. If there was an order that was emphasized more than another in camp it was to keep to the U. S. side of that wire fence, but Jonesy gave it scarcely a thought as he scrambled over. He slid down into the arroyo. Border Boy was out of sight around a bend. Jonesy ran on over boulder and through sand, the hot sun bringing out the perspiration in streams. He rounded the first turn and found an empty and deepening ravine with a second turn a hundred yards or more farther on. He slackened his pace for the deep sand took his wind and jogged on. Rounding the second turn his heart fell for a long downhill stretch lay before him. The arroyo had taken on the dignity of a cafion. Its steep sides gave no opportunity of escape for the horse and he was not in sight. ONESY plodded on through the oven-like cafion. He thought of the greeting he would receive from the Captain if he returned empty-handed. He pondered over his careless- ness in yielding to the temptation of shooting the rattler in view of Border Boy’s uncertainty of temper. He must recover the horse. That was all there was to it. He got some encouragement from the fact that as he proceeded the cafion took on more signs of vegetable life. Stunted mesquite trees sprouted here and there. Bunch grass appeared in patches and then a clump of willows. And then as he neared the turn ahead he heard the sound of shouts. He increased his stride and burst around the bend. A sight met his eyes that was anything but reassuring. The cafion opened into a wide grass-bottomed glade. This at first seemed to be filled with men and horses to the astonished trumpeter. The men were swarthy and sunburned Mexicans. Jonesy gave them but a glance for Border Boy held the center of the stage. The nooses of two lariats were about his neck and a third one had tightened about a fetlock. The three men on the other ends of the lariats were afoot closing in on the big chestnut, while circled about were a dozen men on horses interested spectators. At Jonesy’s appearance they shifted their attention to him. Jonesy was a natural diplomat beside being what has been tesmed a good ‘“‘mixer.’”” Whatever his alarms he concealed He knew but a few Spanish words and those imper- Thanks for stopping him. I'll a ~ take him now.” His advance \ toward Border Boy was halted \\ by a sharp word of command from the leader of the band. eee The fighting animal whirled and lashed out with a fore- foot, and the big Mexican went down a, BOYS’ LIFE They tore off down the arroyo, heading south Chis was a swarthy, evil looking Mexican, more Indian than Spanish. He rode out from his fellows, barring Jonesy’s way and tap- ping his rifle significantly. “It’s the Captain’s horse. Jonesy. The Mexican shrugged his shoulders. ‘‘Caballo—el Capi- tan,”’ ventured the trumpeter in his apology for Spanish. Again the Mexican shrugged his shoulders. Jonesy lost his smile. “It’s a wonder they don’t learn English,” he muttered. ‘*Spik Angleash,” came the reply to his amazement and with it a frown of dislike on the leader’s face that did not add to Jonesy’s comfort. “What you do here?” Now came the challenge. Eagerly Jonesy entered into a long explanation, most of which no doubt was lost. “No bizeness here. Go back,” now came the command. * All right,” said Jonesy, apparently much relieved. ** Give me my horse and I'll get out pronto.” ‘Not yo’ horse—my horse,” retorted the Mexican, and for the first time he grinned. It made him look uglier than ever, Jonesy decided. So that was their game! Border Boy might well be the envy of any horse fancier. Blood showed in every point and line. He was a king among his kind and no one knew it better than these Mexicans. He had come upon their property. He was on their side of the fence. Therefore he was theirs. This at least it seemed was their claim. Then Jonesy, desperate at the thought of reporting back to the Captain without the horse and certain that if he did this Border Boy would be spirited away to the south, never to be seen again, fell back on force. He reached for his pistol. But before he could get it out of the holster there came the quick bark of a command and he found himself looking into the barrel of the Mexican’s carbine. The other riders sur- rounded him. They dismounted and took away his pistol. Nor did he dare resist with that show of arms about him. He ran away,” explained poor ND now under the orders of the leader the group sprang into quick action. Border Boy was subdued and placed between two riders. Jonesy was mounted on him, his hands tied behind his back with a lariat, the end of which was made fast to the saddle ring of a Mexican who rode beside him. The leader put spurs to his animal and his men tore off after him, keeping on down the arroyo which now bore to the south. This indeed was the worst feature of the situation, Jonesy thought with a sinking heart. He had anticipated that he might be put under arrest by the soldiers of the southern republic, taken to headquarters and made the subject of international parley. But Nogales, where both nations had army headquarters, was but a few miles to the east and he was being taken straight down into Sonora, Mexico. These must be bandits then and not the ragged soldiers of the republic. His position was uncomfortable and dangerous in view of the reckless pace. One rider led his horse while a second held the lariat that bound his wrists. They were not at all particular about keeping the same pace and more than once Jonesy was nearly jerked from his saddle as the interval opened up. All these men were born to the saddle. Rocks and sand were alike to them. They March IN nits an arteeren seer

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iL FOR ALL BOYS rode with a loose rein, kicking their mounts when they stumbled in their stride. \n hour’s hard riding brought the band into the mountains and lathered ponies were pulled down to a walk. The trail which had led from arroyo to bottom and thence in the cover of mesquite thicket and willows to the mountains now entered a ravine-like cleft in the hills and ascended sharply. In column of twos the band took up the march at the walk, mounting steadily until a glance over his shoulder disclosed to poor Jonesy the valley that they had crossed spread out below him. Then this was shut out of view and presently the trail began to descend. Now they wound southward into Mexico, climbing and descending, making speed where the going was better and walking their horses over the worst part of the trail. They halted at dusk beside a pool-like spring deep in the mountains and watered man and horse. Then they pushed on again and rode until the night was pitch black about them and the stars seen from the shelter of surrounding peaks shone as though newly lighted. Then Jonesy, weary and saddle-sore, heard a sharp challenge ahead and the column came toa halt. Presently it took up the march again and he saw numerous camp-fires that disclosed a circular valley walled in by high cliffs and many men seated broiling meat over the embers. Jonesy’s captor gave a savage yank of the lariat. Jonesy took it as a signal to dismount and, shaking his feet free of the stirrups, threw a stiffened leg over Border Boy and slid to the ground. His captor likewise dismounted and at a command from the leader gave Jonesy a shove in the direction of a big fire about which sat a group of men. There was much merriment at this fire, Jonesy perceived. A big man on the farther side of it seemed the cause. He had small, shrewd black eyes in a gross face. He let out a string of guttural words, at which the others broke into im- moderate laughter. Then his keen eyes saw Jonesy and his captors as they came into the firelight. He ceased his chatter and fixed Jonesy with so fierce a glance that the little trumpeter thought his fate was decided then and there. Then the big man lolled back and roared with laughter, in which his followers made haste to join. Jonesy saw he was acting a part. And now through the leader of the band that had captured him as interpreter Jonesy was examined by the big man. He was asked where his troop was, which he answered truthfully. He was asked how many U. S. troops were in and about No- gales, which he also truthfully an- swered, that he did not know. The big man grew angry at this. He gave a command in Mexican and the lariat was removed from Jonesy’s wrists. A shout went up from one of the men beside the big chief. From all directions the bandits came running toward the fire. Jonesy paled. Something was going to happen right away. He had heard plenty of stories of torture administered to white soldiers captured by the bandits. Now it appeared that he was to have first-hand knowledge. HE bandits formed in a circle about the fire enclosing Jonesy. He stood chafing the blood back into his wrists when to his astonishment a young Mexican broke through the circle, calmly removed his big sombrero and, stepping up to the American, slapped him smartly on one cheek. It was more impulse than resentment that caused Jonesy to strike back. He caught his assailant fairly on the jaw and knocked him down. The big chief to Jonesy’s further amazement roared his applause. But the trumpeter was not through with his man yet. The young Mexican jumped up from the sand and came back at Jonesy with fire in his eyes. Now Jonesy was an experienced boxer and ordinarily able to take care of anything his weight among his fellows, but a few feints and passes on the part of his opponent disclosed to the trumpeter that he, too, had acquaintance with the squared ring. Jonesy, sore and fatigued by the long hot ride and lack of food, found himself on the defensive to the second attack. He ducked and blockéd and countered but was steadily forced back. The big Mexican applauded with new vigor and his followers seconded it with more heartiness. Jonesy realized now that this was a Roman holiday for the Mexicans and that perhaps more than a beating was at stake. He was weary enough in all conscience but he simulated a greater weakness. He edged in so close to the fire to get the light of it in his opponent’s eyes that he felt the scorch of the flames on his limbs. His opponent more than met him half-way in this 1924 and Jonesy saw that his intent was to drop him in the flames. Jonesy staked his chances on one device. He staggered, slouched and dropped his guard. Like a panther the young Mexican leaped in to administer the finishing blow. Then with every ounce of effort that Jonesy could muster he side- stepped, ducked the Mexican’s right and crossed a left to the side of his opponent’s head. There came a howl of fear and pain as the Mexican toppled into the flames he had planned for Jonesy. He scrambled out of the blaze beating the fire from his garments and snapping his singed fingers. The roar of the big chief was Jovian, the cackle of the rest of the audience was a fit accompaniment. Jonesy, standing back from the fire, grinned in exultation, forgetting his peril for the moment. HEN the young Mexican’s right hand flashed to his hip and back with a revolver. Jonesy threw himself flat and so did the audience behind him. As he lay fearfully awaiting a report, there came instead the bull-like roar of an angry command from the big chief and Jonesy looked up to see the crestfallen youth sullenly returning his weapon to its holster. Then the big chief spoke again. The crowd dispersed and the little trumpeter was led away by his captor. ‘‘Gooda fighta. Chief lik fighta,’ commented the latter. He con- ducted him to a group of ragged Mexicans, where he was given a blanket and told to lie down. This time his feet were tied together with a bight of the lariat, but his hands left unfettered, Jonesy crossed a left to his opponent’s head, and the Mexican toppled into the fire his captor tying the ends of his lariat about his own ankle so that any attempt of the American to loose himself would wake up his keeper. Jonesy lay awake for some time in his excited state of mind. It had been a full day and he wondered what the morrow would bring. So far the bandits had not lived up to their reputation for cruelty. Perhaps the rapid invasion of Mexico by the fistic art as illustrated by the affair of the evening had carried with it other Anglo-Saxon conceptions of a square deal. The chief liked a good fighter his captor had informed him with some enthusiasm. Yet that might cause complications. Jonesy had no wish to be carried about Sonora like a bantam cock meeting the dingy hopes of Mexico at the pleasure of the big chief. He fell asleep at last and shook his cares until morning. He was awakened by the stir of riders breaking camp. The lariat had been removed from his feet. His captor was eating strips of broiled beef at a nearby fire. He heard Jonesy as the latter sat up with a groan at his lameness. He brought the trooper a strip of half-broiled beef. In spite of his hunger Jonesy had hard work to overcome the revulsion at the sight of the nearly raw meat and the dirty fingers that offered it to him. But he needed the food and feared the effect of a refusal, so he thanked the captor and managed to get the meat down. Then he heard a familiar whinny. A Mexican was leading Border Boy toward the chief’s fire. Jonesy’s heart sank as he saw the big, high-headed chestnut with its shining coat go by. The chief was awaiting the approach of the animal with a grin of pleasure on his gross face. Jonesy awaited develop- ments with new interest. The chief patted Border Boy’s sleek neck. Border Boy tossed his mane contemptuously. Then the big Mexican put a foot in the stirrup of the ornate saddle which they had cinched on the animal. 7 Border Boy did not like that saddle. He was used to an English saddle with a single cinch. He whirled aside, nearly trampling the attendant under foot. The man held on desperately while the chief exploded in Mexican. Again the attendant led Border Boy forward. This time the chief caught his bridle. In his left hand he held a quirt. Too late Jonesy saw what was about to happen. Border Boy had never known the touch of a lash. His unbroken and savage spirit would never stand this indignity. Jonesy ran forward as the chief raised his quirt. He brought it down savagely across the animal’s forehead. Crazed with pain and anger the big chestnut reared his mighty form on his hind legs. The chief hung on pluckily and brought him to earth. Again the cruel lash fell, raising a welt across the satiny chestnut skin. Then the fighting animal whirled and slashed out with a forefoot and the big chief went down. Jonesy had forgotten all else but the cruel treatment his charge was being subjected to. He entertained some wild idealof snatching the bridle from the big Mexican, happen what might. Now as the big horse, freed of captor, swung about, Jonesy sprang for his head. He caught the bridle but there was no stopping the flight of the crazed animal. It was instinct that governed Jonesy’s next move. He was off his feet in a bound. His right leg found its mark in the big Mexican saddle. He gripped the pommel and pulled himself aboard as Border Boy burst into full flight through camp on the back trail for home. So suddenly had it happened that few of the raiders recognized the American as the rider who had sprung to F) the back of the big chestnut. Nor did it occur to those few for the moment that Jonesy’s purpose was other than to master the animal. Had this been the little trum- peter’s intent it would have been useless for Border Boy had the bit in his teeth. UT Jonesy had no idea of aban- doning this providential chance of escape. He lay low on the racing horse with a loose rein. Ahead the cafion narrowed and turned. Look- ing back over his shoulder, Jonesy saw men mounting up hastily. Now a few scattered shots rang out. Then he was around the turn and the camp was shut from view. There were times during that ride when Jonesy wondered if he had not jumped from the frying pan into the fire. Border Boy sped over that dangerous trail with the abandon of a mountain sheep. He _ hurdled boulders and leaped gullies. He circled mountainsides when a mis- step meant a fall to oblivion for man and rider. Jonesy dared not try to curb him on these dangerous places in the trail for fear of throwing him. Where the trail widened and better footing obtained the little rider sawed valiantly on the bit without apparent result. How long Border Boy ran on Jonesy could not estimate except that it seemed ages. Then the fear and anger in the big horse seemed to give way to a new emotion. He tossed his head with the snort of a Bucephalus and bunched his feet under him so abruptly that the big horn of the Mexican saddle was all that saved Jonesy from pitching off. As Jonesy regained his seat he saw the cause of this sudden halt, for almost at the horse’s feet lay the green pool beside which they had stopped the night before. Border Boy had not been watered that morning and in that desert country neither horse nor man will pass a mountain-spring without stopping. Now the little trumpeter took command. He allowed the big chestnut but a few gulps of the cold water for fear both that it would founder him and that their pursuers overtake them. By main force he braced back on the reins and pulled the horse’s nuzzle out of the water. A touch of the spur sent Border Boy onagain, but now Jonesy had himinhand. He let him out when the trail permitted it and nursed him over the more dangerous spots. At forks he gave the animal its head, trusting its homing instinct more than his own.. Ever his ear attuned to sounds of pursuit and now and then he looked back over his shoulder. Once from the summit of a high hill he looked back and saw dust rising from the valley he had left. Here, too, had come the musical ping of a bullet over his head followed by the report of a rifle. This was the parting shot it seemed, for Jonesy saw or heard no more of his pursuers. Some time later, emerging from a cut in the hills, Jonesy’s heart leaped at the sight that met his eyes. There lay the valley of his mishap spread out before him and that distant and orderly rectangle of ant heaps; on its farther side were the tents of his fellows pitched on the soil of the good old U. S. A. Border Boy seemed to sense this, too, for he clattered down to the sandy plain and galloped eagerly toward his native land.

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AVING tried to explain in the first article in this series what age may learn from youth, it now seems only fair to turn the tables and show, if I can, what youth may learn from age. To you who are embarked upon the tempestuous adventure of youth, with the blood boiling in your veins and ambition calling to you, this thing that you may learn from age may seem a pale and feeble quality com- pared with the more ostentatious prizes that life has to offer. This meek and unimposing quality will put no more money in your pockets. [ doubt whether it will have any bearing on what the world calls “success.” But I will guarantee that whether or not the thing | speak of will commend itself instantly to you, the method of procuring it which I will outline later will have your eager approval. Not to make a conundrum out of it the quality I have in mind is tolerance. I do not believe, as I have said before, in any of the quack remedies, in any of the swift and easy routes to success and happiness which are so current in the world to-day. I have no passion for reforming the world. | know no method of so altering human nature and drain ing off its weaknesses that men will begin at once to return borrowed umbrellas. But I do believe that the more we learn and practice the virtue of tolerance, the better place the world will be to live in. Since words mean different things to different people, let me see if I can explain what tolerance means to me. lhen if it seems to you a desirable quality, T will show you a most agreeable way of acquiring it. We are all gazing upon a more or less familiar world with different eyes,—almost as if we were wearing spectacles with different colored lenses. What seems highly important to you strikes somebody else as trivial and silly; what ho fell 2 busy interests and excites you bores and annoys another; what seems right to you seems entirely wrong to someone else and vice versa. ‘The hardest thing for u ta understand is people whose ideas and tastes differ from our own. We have a secret feeling that there 1 omething wrong with them Phe may not be positively insane but they are at least trembling on the border ot insanity If your favorite study i mathematics and your favorite out door sport is baseball, you will be inclined to view with suspicion some one whose tastes run to Latin poetry and golf. And if you have a practical mind leaning toward business you will look with pity upon your ac quaintance who is stuffing his mind with useless ideas about literature and fine arts. Your neighbor is a shiftless fellow who never keeps hi lawn properly mowed and lets weeds overrun his garden. Do you know what he thinks about you? He wonders if it wouldn’t be a good thing if you spent less time in trimming your grounds and more time in trimming your mind which he thinks is so overrun. with weeds that you can't use it prbperly. lf 1 were to state in one sentence ellow By Douglas Fairbanks it the left, Doug. is working hard as a sub- titute for his direct A fantastic battle with a giant sea-spider, one of Doug’s many strange adventures on the ocean bed BOYS’ LIFE what tolerance means to me, I should say that it was the rare gift of getting the other man’s point of view. It means a sufficient acknowledgment of our own deficiencies so that we hesitate to judge other people too harshly. It means an under- standing which allows for some other point of view than our own,—a soft, charitable bent of the mind which has come to understand that the frailties of human nature are a common inheritance from which none of us is exempt and that the chief difference between us and those we condemn is that they make a different kind of mistakes. The quality of tolerance admits that other people have the same right to arrange their lives, to pursue their ambitions and choose their pleasures that we have. If we are annoyed by their manner of living and their habits of thought, we can be quite sure that there are several people who would like to see us shot at sunrise for ours. Tolerance is unfortunately so much more uncomman than intolerance that in trying to find examples of the former I find my mind flooded with instances of the latter. I think of the soldier who complained that everyone else in the com- pany was out of step with him. In any one of our political campaigns you will see intolerance swaggering out into the field, armed with its usual weapons of abuse and denunciation. You will find one ardent partisan condemning his opponent as an idiot, a scoundrel and a man of loose principles who would willingly betray his country simply because he holds a different opinion on the League of Nations, or government ownership or some other issue on which it is conceivable that people might honestly disagree. ‘This vilification of people who do not agree with us, this violent absorption in our own point of view and reluctance to admit the possibility of any other furnish a very good example of the exact opposite of what I mean by tolerance. It is the commonest mental malady I know of and like many others attacks youth most severely. \s one grows older, some fortunate mel lowing influ Do gla Fairbanks and a ence sets in. The suspicion little playmate, who weighs arises in your mind that in 40 pounds, in a scene from some things at least you may: their new picture : : ica be wrong and others right. You find yourself studying other people’s views and reconnoitering on the other side of the question with a certain pleasure. And it dawns on you suddenly that you must have some better reason for holding any belief than the fact that you have always held it before. You become gradually intolerant of yourself and tolerant of others, which is a very good sign. So, just as enthusiasm makes a gay and rollicking companion for youth, tolerance makes a comforting counsellor for later years. The prescription which I offer as a cure for this wide- spread disease of intolerance is, as I promised you, so agree- able and easy to take that I think you will be inclined to follow it whether you have the malady or not. It consists simply in travel. Do not misunderstand me. I do not intend that you es should immediately start out on a tour of Central The genial and happy ee Africa. But you can at least make frequent journeys Douglas Fairbanks, as the thief in his forth - away from your immediate environment. Without being conscious of it vou are slowly becoming a pepnagt production, - : . : “The Tinefof Bagdad slave to that environment; your eyes day after day are filled with the same images, your minds with the same ideas, your social world with the same people. Viewing things constantly from the same angle, narrows the vision, shuts up the mind and kills the imagination. If I lived continuously in Hollywood, in the atmosphere of motion picture production, I might quite conceivably come to the conclusion that this was the one important business of the world, that the camera gave the only proper interpretation of life, and that nothing else mattered You are living, let us say, in Springfield (an imaginary Springfield in any state). Take a little trip to Hillsboro, about ten miles away. If | am not mistaken, you are strongly of the opinion that everything about Springfield is superior to Hills- boro. The people in your town have more sense, are more progressive citizens and better fellows in every way than these misguided people who for some obscure reason have chosen to live in a place like Hillsboro. Walk, if you can, to Hillsboro, and on the way let the sun and wind get into your system and ‘ake some of the kinks and prejudices out of your mind. You - will be surprised to find that these be- nighted people who live in Hillsboro average up pretty well, and except for one ridiculous notion, are just as useful members of society as the citizens of your own home town. This notion is that they are a trifle higher in the cale of life than your unfortunate in his nex photopla y (Concluded on page 67) March is Ae

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FOR ALL BOYS 9 AaAMOoOuUusS By Walter Camp What Arthur Poe Did for Princeton Mr. Camp is America’s greatest authority on athletics. For years he was the famous Since then he has become a widely known writer on athletics, and is the authority who from the football players of the country. More recently he has originated the widely known “Daily Dozen” exercises. In this series he is telling some of the classic stories of American athletics. Editor’s Note: coach at Yale. chooses the famous “All-American Team” Roadmaker,” and in comparison and many times was ready to despair. team. Poe, the author of that poem known to you and the world over, “The Raven.” There have been won- derful leaders at Prince- ton—men whose names grow great as we run over them. See the horde advancing through the mists of time! The handsome Earl Dodge, McNair, the fighting missionary, who gave all his life to the bettering of conditions in Eastern lands, Bland Ballard, Hector Cowan and “Butch” Bryan, great leaders! Withington, the quarter, who made the memorable touch- down against Yale; Cash and “‘ Sport’? Donnelley, “Snake” Ames, the elu- sive; Haxall, the long distance kicker from placement (Scherer might equal him if he would only try, for I have seen him punt 65 yards!); “Shep” Ho- mans, who by his punt- ing staved off a first- class Yale team for an hour; George, the great AST month we told the story of a real “‘ his blazing the trail to success on a Yale football This month let me take you to another uni- versity and tell the story of a nephew of Edgar Allan He struggled through the fall of 1896 trying for the *varsity football team, but the total result of all his work was that he substituted for Smith, the quar- Walter Camp says :— IN BLAZING A TRAIL IT IS NOT TEMPORARY FITS OF FIERCENESS THAT COUNT, BUT STEADY, PLOD- DING PERSISTENCE. TO-DAY’S WORK CORRECTS YES- TERDAY’S FAULTS AND PAVES THE WAY FOR TO-MORROW’S SUC- CESSES. AS A DOG STICKS TO THE TRAIL SO SHOULD THE SCOUT TO ANY JOB HE UNDERTAKES. SOME SCOUTS THINK WHEN THEY BLAME THEMSELVES FOR A FAULT NO ONE ELSE HAS ANY RIGHT TO BLAME THEM. IF YOUR MIND IS OFF YOUR JOB YOU HAVE A BLIND EYE FOR THE TRAIL. GOOD LUCK MAY MAKE YOU PROUD, SUCCESS MAY MAKE YOU VAIN, BUT IT IS ONLY HARD WORK THAT WILL MAKE YOU A WINNER IN THE LONG RUN. AN OATH OF ALLEGIANCE IS VALUELESS IF THEREAFTER YOU DO ONLY ENOUGH TO KEEP YOUR- SELF ELIGIBLE. CACKLING LIKE A HEN OVER YOUR ACHIEVEMENTS WILLNEVER GET YOU REAL ADVANCEMENT. TEAM WORK ALWAYS COUNTS. DRAINING ONE EDGE OF A SWAMP TO GET RID OF MOSQUITOES DOES NO GOOD UNLESS ALL OF IT IS DRAINED. A SCOUT LEADER’S TEACHING SHOULD NOT BE A TRADE BUT terback, in one game—the Lehigh game. Not at all discouraged, he again came out in the following year and strove once more to make the ’var- sity. And that season, too, went by without success, his only opportunity being to substitute for Baird in-one game, the Franklin-Marshall game. His third year, in 1898, he tried for end and finally made the po- sition, but in the Cornell game was supplanted by Lathrope of his own class. But he got back into the later games and on November 12th when Yale came down to Princeton for the big game, Arthur Poe was on the end of the Princeton ’varsity line. Three times during the first half Yale carried the ball down to Prince- ton’s 20-yard line, but were held at this point. Then finally Yale got the ee ee ae ball down to Princeton’s 10-yard line, where it was passed to Durston, the Yale back. All the Princeton stands were groaning and crying for Prince- ton to “hold ’em.” Durston struck the line off tackle and suddenly little Arthur Poe appeared shooting through with the ball, carrying it the length of the field for a touchdown, and Ayers of Princeton kicking the goal. Try as they would thereafter, Yale could not overcome that lead and Arthur Poe had won the game and had become the hero! But as though that were not enough, the next year he played at end again and when Princeton went up to New Haven on November 25th and the score THE PRINCETON MEN WHO TWICE DEFEATED YALE Arthur Poe (center), whose brilliant playing, which brought victory to Princeton, Hillebrand (right), captain of the Princeton team in 1898, and William H. (Big Bill) Edwards (left), captain in 1899 Mr. Camp describes in this article, flanked by A. R. T. him and he sent it over the goal bar for a Princeton victory. As one of the historians has said, ‘this was his first and only, and the last field goal of his career.” And Arthur Poe was celebrated in Princeton’s song. Here is an extract from the poem written about his run, beginning at the point where Yale was about to go over for a touchdown described above: “& Poe hath rushed within ye Breache— Towards Erthe one Second kneeled,— ungraduating center; Tracy Harris and the double-footed Moffatt, A MISSION. PLUCK, NOT LUCK, GREAT ELEMENT IN SUCCESS. IS THE who could punt or drop kick equally well with cither foot; Black and Channing and the great “‘ Tillie” Lamar -[ ran all the length of the field behind him, for I was referee when the ball bounded off Toler’s chest and Lamar picked it up and ran for the winning touchdown on the Yale Field. Lamar later gave his life in the attempt to save a girl from drowning! And the families—the Riggses, the Wheelers, the Harlans, the DeWitts, the Prices and the immortal and unending string of Poes who perched like ravens over the bust of Yale; Phil King and Morse, “House” Janeway, Al Kelley; then the tackles, Church, Lea, Pell, Hillebrand, Eddie Hart and Ballin; the ends, Garry Coch- ran, “‘ Doggy” Trenchard, Davis, Henry, Lew Palmer, Wister and Sam White; Bannard, McCormick Baird and Rulon Miller, great backs; Big Bill Edwards, the noblest Roman of them all, who doth bestride this world like a Colossus, and who has done so much for all Boy Scouts; Parke Davis, the statistician, who, waked up in the middle of the night, can give the score of a game twenty years ago; the Dillons, the Tibbotts, Pendleton and ‘““Hobey”’ Baker, who died in the service of his country in the late war! But this man of whom we are writing was not a captain,.and although people expected things of him because the Poes who had gone before him had made good, little Arthur Poe, when he came to Prince- ton in the fall of 1896 as a member of the class of 1900, had a great heart but little hope. He was full of the legends of Princeton heroes but he was only a midget 1924 at almost the end of the game, with only a minute or two to play, was 10 to 6 in favor of Yale, and the ball out in mid-field, Princeton after a few desperate charges were held, and with only 30 seconds to play and the ball on the 35-yard line, Arthur Poe, who had never kicked a field goal in a game, was called back from end and the ball passed back to He tuckes ye Balle benethe hys Arme, & saunteres down ye Fielde. “Ye Elis tears in fierce Pursuite; But Poe eludes yem alle; He rushes ’twixt ye quyverrynge Postes, & sytteth on ye Balle.” How You Can Keep Fit By Dr. George J. Fisher WHAT a great array of heroes Mr. Camp portrays. MASCULINE, virile, strong men. 7 STRONG bodies, brave hearts, chivalrous spirits. THEY were keen on the : scent. | THEY followed the ball.” THEY gave all they had. NO laxity, no let down. — ‘ ALWAYS up and at it. IT’S the same in life. : WHAT impresses me most is that array of families of heroes. HOW significant. ‘ ¥ . YOU boys are future daddies. : YOUR sons will look like you, ; ACT like you, be like you. : THEY will be strong if you are ‘strong; WEAK if you are weak. THAT'S the law of heredity. GENIUS runs in families. SO does weakness. * * * * * * * * * * * WHAT a shame in a careless moment to destroy, to weaken what nature has taken generations to build up. ‘CLEAN minds, pure hearts, noble acts. THAT'S the course to run. FOOTBALL games have been 1 won, contests lost, because men were fit physically, mentally, morally. MEN paid the price for strength, IN self-control—in pure living. FOOTBALL games have | been lost because men’s wind went bad because of smoking; stomachs revolted because of stuffing; fatigue ensued because of dissipation. WHY did “Matty” last so long in baseball? HE was clean! P ? ; WHY did others whom we might name, but shame forbids it, fall? THEY didn’t live up to the standards. THE lower passions conquered. THE best was not on top. 7 “TI HAVE the strength of ten because my heart is pure.” “A SCOUT is clean.” LIFE is a torch. : HAND it on burning bright, undimmed. * MAY those who live after you bless you because you have given the life abundant. * * * MAY none, because of your life, find it harder to fight, sadder to live, more difficult to conquer. * *

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A synopsis of the first instalment of this story will be found on page 58 CHAPTER VII HE feeling now uppermost in Westy’s mind was that of anger at the unknown person who had made it necessary for him to do what he had done. He felt that he had been cheated out of keeping his promise about shooting. He knew perfectly well that what he had done was right and that only tech- nically had he broken his promise to his father. But he had done something altogether repugnant to him and it turned him against guns not only, but particularly against the sneak whose lawless work he had had to complete. It must be confessed that it was not mainly the fugitive’s lawlessness or even his cruel heedlessness that aroused Westy. It was the feeling that somehow this work of murder (for so he thought it) had been wished on him. It had agitated him and gone against him, and he was enraged over it. He had not been quite the ideal scout in the matter of readi ness to kill the deer; he might have done that job more promptly and with less pertubation. But he was quite the scout in his towering resolve to track down the culprit and tell him what he thought of him and bring him to justice. It was characteristic of Westy, who was a fiend at tracking and trailing, that this course of action appealed to him now, rather than the tamer course of going direct to the authorities. There was something very straightforward about Westy. And besides, he had the adventurous spirit which prefers to act without codperation. “ By jumping jiminies. Vll find that fellow!” he said aloud. “T should worry about catching the train. T’ll find him all right, and I’ll tell him something he won’t forget in a hurry I will. Ill track him and find out who he is. Maybe after he’s paid a hundred dollars fine, he won’t be so free with his blamed rifle.” It was odd how he had balked at*putting an end to the wounded deer, and then had not the slightest hesitancy to pursue, he knew not what sort of disreputable character and denounce him to his face and then report him. Westy would not show up with the authorities, not he; not till he had first called the marauder a few names which he was already deciding upon. They were not the sort of names that are used in the language of compliment. It is not to be supposed that Westy was perfect. ... He was all scout now. Yet he was puzzled as to which way to turn. It is sometimes easier to follow tracks than to find them. No doubt the fugitive had been some distance from the deer when he had shot it Where had he been then? Near enough for Westy to hear the patter of his footfalls, that was certain. \lso another thought occurred to him The man’s shot had not been a good one, at least it had not proved fatal He was either a very poor marksman or else he had fired from a considerable distance. Westy’s mind worked quickly and logically now He had easily the best mind of any scout in hi ; troop. Not the most sprightly mind, but the best. He tried hurriedly to determine where the man had stood by con sidering the position of the wound on the deer’s body But he quickly saw the fallacy of any deduction drawn from this sign since the deer might have turned before he dropped Then another thought, a better one, occurred to him. The animal had been shot below its side, almost in its belly. Might not that argue that the huntsman had been some what below the level of the deer? The conformation of the land thereabouts seemed to give color to this sur- mise. The ground sloped so that it might almost pe said to be a hillside which descended to the By Percy KA. Fitzhugh Illustrated by Richard Holberg verge of agully. -Westy went in that direction for a few yards and came to the gully. He scrambled down into it and found himself involved in a tangle of underbrush. But he saw that from this trenchlike concealment, the animal might easily have been struck in the spot where the wound was. Westy’s deduction was somewhat confirmed by his recollec- tion that it was from this direction he had heard the receding footfalls. A path led through this miniature jungle and up the other side where the pine needles made a smooth floor in the forest. Presently all need of nice deducing was rendered superfluous by a sign likely to prove a jarring and discordant note in the woodland studies of any scout. This was a crumpled tinfoil package which on being pulled to its original size revealed the romantic words so replete with the spirit of the silent woods: MECHANIC’S DELIGHT PLUG CUT TOBACCO The tinfoil package was empty and destined to delight no more. But it was not even wet, and had not been wet, and had evidently been thrown away but lately. It was immediately after throwing this away that Westy noticed something else which interested him. It was nothing much, but bred as he was to observe trifling things in the woods, it made him curious. The rank undergrowth near him was besprinkled with drops as if it had been rained on. This was noticeable on the large, low-spreading plantain leaves near by. -Surely in the bright sunshine of the morning any recent drops of dew or rain must have dried up. Yet there were the big flat leaves besprinkled with drops of water. Westy remembered something his scoutmaster had once said. Everything that happens has a cause. Little things may mean big things. Nine boys out of ten would not have noticed this trivial thing, or having noticed it would not have thought twice about it. But Westy approached and felt of the leaves and as he did so, he felt his foot sinking into swampy water. He tried to lift it out but could not. Then, he felt the other foot sinking, too. He hardly knew how it happened, but in ten seconds he was down to his knees in the swamp. Fran- tically he grasped the swampy weeds but they gave way. He could not lift either foot now He felt himself going down, down. “Well, Luke, at it again, hey?” said the game warden BOYS’ LIFE CHAPTER VIII BARRETT’S O THIS was to be the end; he would be swallowed up and no one would know what had become of him. The silent treacherous marsh would consume him. He was in its jaws and it would devour him‘ and the world would never know. Nature, the quiet woods that he had loved, would do this frightful thing. Then he ceased to sink. He was in above his knees. One foot rested on something hard. But it was not that which sup- ported him. The marshy growth below held him up. He was not in peril but he had suffered a shocking fright. He managed to get hold of a crooked branch of scrub-oak which overhung the gully and drew himself up. It was hard to do this for the suction kept him down. It was evidently a little marshy pool concealed by undergrowth, that he had stepped into. For no particular reason, he purposely got one foot under the submerged thing it had descended upon. He thought it was a stick. It came up slantingways till with one hand he was able to get hold of it. It was hard and cold. For this reason, he was curious about it and he kept hold of it with one hand while he scrambled clear of the tiny morass. It was dripping with mud and green slime. But he knew what he was holding long before it was clear of its slimy, green disguise. Jt was a rifle. Then Westy knew the explanation of the wetness on the leaves. The rifle had not been there long. It had probably been thrown there in panic haste and the water had splashed up onto the low, dank growth which concealed the frightful hole. The gun would never have been found but for Westy’s observant eye and consequent mishap. Westy wiped the dripping slime from the rifle and examined his find. The gun was old and had evidently seen much ser- vice. On the smooth-worn butt of it was something which interested him greatly and seemed likely to prove more helpful than any footprints he might hope to find. This was the name Luke Meadows, evidently burnt in with a pointed tool, possibly a nail. Printed in another direction on the rifle butt, so that it might or might not have borne relation to the name, were the letters very crudely inscribed Cody Wg. Even in his surprise, Westy recognized a certain appropriate- ness in the word Cody burnt into a rifle butt; it seemed a fitting enough place on which to perpetuate the true name of Buffalo Bill. At the time he could not conjecture what the letters Wg stood for. But it seemed likely enough that Luke Meadows was the name of the owner of the rifle. Che gun had certainly not been in the swamp long for no rust was upon it. Westy believed that the owner of it, fearing to be overtaken with it in his possession, had flung it into the little swamp before fleeing. He was not so intent now on finding footprints. Surely the person who had hidden the gun was the culprit, and it seemed a reasonable enough infer- ence that he belonged in the neighborhood. The quest seemed greatly sim plified; so simplified that Westy began formulating what he would say to the marauder. Of one thing he was resolved, and that was that the man should pay the penalty of his lawlessness. Westy did not burden himself with two guns; he hid the one he had found in the bushes then bent his course eastward through the woods. If he had been going straight to Chandler to catch the train, he would have cut through the woods south- east, emerging at the edge of the town But he changed his course now and went directly east be cause he wanted to reach the little settlement known as Barrett’s. This was on the road which bordered the woods to the easi. This road ran south into Chandler. Westy would not exact- ly be going out of his way, March

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a FOR ALL BOYS he would simply be losing the advantage of a short cut. Barrett’s was the nearest, and seemed the likeliest place from which one given to illicit hunting would come. At Barrett’s he would inquire for Luke Meadows. The name on the rifle saved him the difficulties and delays of tracking. For with the culprit’s name, Westy felt that he could easily be found. In about fifteen minutes he emerged from the woods at Barrett’s. He had been there before, but one sight of the place now made him glad that he had not brought the telltale rifle with him. He felt that if he had, Meadows or Meadows’ cronies might relieve him of it and put an end to its availability as evidence. It was safe where it was... . Barrett’s was one of those places that grow up around a factory and subsists on the factory. Sometimes quite pre- tentious little villages grow up in this way and attain finally to the dignity of “GO SLOW” signs and traffic cops. But in this case the factory having put Barrett’s on the county map closed up its door and left Barrett’s sprawling. There was a settlement and no factory to support it. When the Barrett Leather Goods Company stopped making leather goods, a couple of dozen men and as many more girls were thrown out of employment. With the leather goods fac- tory closed there was nothing for the working people of Bar- rett’s to do but move away or subsist as best they could by hook or crook. ‘The better sort among the inhabitants moved away. Those that remained soon became a dubious set whose professional activities were, at the least, shady. Barrett’s was a sort of hobo among villages, an ill-kept, prideless, lawless place, having all the characteristics of a -hiftless man who had gone to the bad. ‘The countryside shunned it. And it was not considered a safe place for the youth of the surrounding villages, especially at night. Every now and then, some one from Barrett’s was taken to Chandler and thence sent to jail CHAPTER IX ON THE TRA ARRETT’S was not accustomed to visits from nattily attired boy scouts with rifles slung over their shoulders, and the lolling youths of the settlement stared at him and commented audibly as he passed. “Hey, what’s that you got over your shoulder?” one of them called. “That, oh, that’s a soup spoon,” said Westy quite unper turbed. “Do you know where Luke Meadows lives?” “What d’yer want ’im fer?” one of the natives asked. “Oh, I just wanted to see him,” said Westy. “Whatcher want ter see ’im fer?” “Oh, just for fun. Do you know where he lives?” “He lives in that white house up the road,” said a rather more accommodating boy. “Do you see the house with the winder broken? The one with the chimney gone? He lives there, only he ain’t home.” ‘He is, too,” contradicted another informer. “I seen him go in his back door half an hour ago; he come around through the fields from the woods.” “Thanks,” said Westy. If Luke Meadows lived in the house indicated and had in- deed returned home through the fields, then he must have emerged from the woods at a considerable distance from his home, an unnecessary thing to do except upon the theory that he wished to throw some one off his track, or at least avoid being seen. Westy thought he could sense the position in which this man stood toward the game wardens of the county, _ He thought it likely that there had been previous encounters between them. Hunting game out of season is a pursuit which is pretty apt to be chronic. Now that Westy was about to encounter this man, he felt just a little trepidation. Perhaps it would have been better to have gone to Chandler first. But then the matter would have been out of his hands. He wished first to tell this man a thing or two which scouts know. .. . As he went along the narrow, dusty road, his uneasiness increased. He was not exactly afraid, but he was beginning to balk a little at the prospect of denouncing a person who was probably many years his senior. The little houses along the road, which must have been hopelessly unsightly from the beginning, had fallen into a state of disrepair and squalor which seemed in striking discord with the surrounding countryside. A slum in the city is bad enough; in the fair country it is shockingly grotesque. These little houses were double, each holding two families, and some of them were in blocks of three or four. They seemed to nestle under the shadow of the big wooden factory back in the field. Every window of the big factory was broken and a more forlorn picture of disuse and dilapidation could scarcely be imagined. From this factory a rusty railroad track disap- peared into the woods; it had probably once joined the main line at Chandler. Beyond these little rows of cheap frame houses was one which stood by itself. Its chimney was indeed gone and its window broken, but at least it stood by itself, was of a different color and architecture from the others, and had, in its shabby way, a character of its own. A little girl was swinging on the fence gate, or would have been swinging if the hinges had not 1924 been broken. A dried and curling woodchuck skin was nailed to the clapboards beside the door, a dubious hint of the pred lections of the householder. CHAPTER X LUKE MEADOWS " OES Luke Meadows live here?” Westy asked. “Ves, sirrr,” said the little girl with a strong roll of her r’s. “Could I see him?” 1 protest their innocence. At the moment the man’s chief con cern seemed to be a certain interest in Westy. He just stood listening, the while holding the little girl close to him and playfully ruffling her hair. Perhaps his dubious standing with the authorities made him lukewarm about protestations ci innocence Waal?” was all he said. “And you’re not going to get away with it, either,’ Westy. Meadows drew a tinfoil package from his trousers pocket, took some tobacco from it and replaced the package in his pocket. Westy saw that the package was a new one and said “T reckon you can,” said the little girl; then wit}é fe that it bore the MECHANIC’S DELIGHT label. going to the trouble of entering the house, she called, “ Dad, thar’s a boy wants to see you.” These were the first samples Westy had of that characteristic way of say- ing reckon and thar which he had soon to associate with new friends in a free, vast, far-off region. It occurred to him that if Meadows wished to lay low, as the saying is, it might go hard with the little girl who was so ready to admit his pres- ence to a stranger. ‘The appearance and reputation of Barrett’s, as well as the unlawful shooting, had conjured up «i picture in Westy’s mind which had made him apprehensive about his reception. And now he felt that the little girl might also feel something of the hunter’s dis pleasure. flis kindly fear for her wis quite superfluous, for presently there appeared from within the house a youngish man who ab sently, as it placed his arm around the child’s shoulder and drew her toward him as he waited for Westy to make his business known. The man was tall and raw-boned and wore nothing but queer-looking moccasins, corduroy trousers and a gray flannel shirt. His cheek-bones were high and he was as brown as a mulatto. What caught Westy and somewhat disconcerted him, was the stranger’s eyes, which were gray and of a clear- ness and keenness which he had never seen in the eyes of any human being before. They were the eyes of the forest and the plains, the eyes that see and read and understand where others see not. The eyes that speak of silent and lonely places and bespeak « competence which only rugged nature can impart. Such eyes Daniel Boone may have had. At all events, they disconcerted Westy and knocked the beginning of his fine speech clean out of his head. The man was calm and patient, the little girl wriggled playfully in his strong hold, and Westy stood like a fool and said nothing. Then he found himself: * Are you Lu Are you Mr. Luke Meadows?” he asked. “Reckon I am,” drawled the man. “Well, then,” said Westy, gathering courage, “I came to tell you that I know what you did in the woods because I— because I was the one that was there—I was the one that shouted.” “Yer seed me, youngster,” the man drawled, not angrily. “No, I didn’t see you,” said Westy, “but gee, you don’t have to see a person to find them out. You shot a deer and you know as well as I do it isn’t the season. And then you hid your gun—I guess you thought T was a game warden or some- thing. But T found it, I’ll tell you that much, and I saw your name on it. “Do you know what you made me do?” he added, becoming vehement as his anger gave him courage. “ You made me kill a deer, that’s what you made me do! You made me kill a deer after I promised I’d never shoot at anything but a target that’s what you made me do,” he shouted in boyish anger. “You didn’t even kill it, you didn’t!) Now you see what you did, sneaking and shooting game out of season! Now you see what you made me do!” ‘There was something so naive and boyish in putting the injury on personal grounds that even Meadows could not re- press a smile. “T made a promise to my father, that’s what T did,” said Westy indignantly. The man neither confessed nor denied his guilt. It seemed strange to Westy that he did not deny it since criminals always seemed, He managed to get hold of a crooked branch of a scrub oak “You left the other package in the woods,” Westy said triumphantly, “and that’s how I hap- pened to find your gun.” “Yer left the gun thar, youngster?” ~ wes, I “did,” said Westy angrily, “and I know where it is all right.” Then the true Westy Martin got in a few words. “The only reason I came here first,” he said, “was because I didn’t want to seem sneaky. T didn’t want you to think that I had to go and get the the constables or sheriffs I didn’t want you to think I was afraid to face you alone. T didn’t want to go and tell on you till I saw you first, that’s all.”’ “Waal naow yer see me,” drawled Meadows. “And I’m going to do what I ought to do no matter what,’ Westy flared up. “S’posin’ yer run an’ play,” said Meadows to the little girl. Then, as she moved away: ‘“An’ what might yer ought ter do?” he asked quietly. “You admit you shot that deer?” Westy asked. “Jiminies, you can’t deny it,” he added boyishly. “Waal?” said Meadows. “Do you see this badge?” said Westy, pulling the sleeve of his scout shirt around so as to display the several merit badges that were sewn there. ‘That top one,’’ he said, in a boyish tone of mingled pride and anger, “is a conservation badge; it’s a scout badge.” “Yer one of them scaouts, huh?” “Yes, [am and I won that badge. It means if I know of anybody breaking the game laws, I’ve got to report it, that’s what it means. I’ve got to do it even if it seems mean——’”’ “Seems mean, huh?” “No, it doesn’t,” Westy forced himself to say. ‘Because what right did you have to do that? Gee, I don’t say you wanted to leave the deer suffering, I don’t say that.”” He had been fully prepared to charge the offender with that but now that he was face to face with him, he found it hard to do so. He put the whole responsibility for his purpose on his conserva- tion badge, in which Meadows seemed rather interested. ‘““What’s that thar next one?” he asked. “‘That’s the pathfinder’s badge,” said Westy. “Yer a pathfinder, huh?” “Yes, I am,” said Westy, “but I guess maybe I’m not as good at it as you are. But anyway, if you know all about those things—shooting and the woods and all that—jiminies you ought to know enough not to shoot game out of season. Maybe that deer was a very young one, or maybe——’’ “How *baout my young un?” Meadows asked calmly. ‘**Haow ‘baout that li’l gal yer seed?” “Well what about her?’’ demanded Westy angrily. CHAPTER XI WESTY MARTIN, SCOUT HAT makes yer say maybe I’m good at that sort of thing?” asked Luke Meadows. IT don’t know,” said Westy; ‘‘ just sort of you seem that way. But anyway, that hasn’t got anything to do with what J have to do, has it?. I got that merit badge by passing six tests, if anybody should ask you. And the last one of those tests is doing something that helps enforce the game laws, and you can bet I’m going to keep on doing that too. You'll have to pay a fine, that’s what you'll have to do, and it serves you right.” (Continued on page 58)

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N THE night after his father had decreed that the mad boomer must die, Jimsy Carter found it difficult to sleep. Even to a boy born and reared in the heart of the Australian bush and accustomed to seeing kangaroos of all sizes and colors there can be a thrill attached to running down and killing a huge gray “old man” kangaroo which appears to have taken leave of his few senses. This was just what seemed to have happened to the beast known as the mad boomer. Ordinarily a kangaroo prefers flight to fight until he is cornered. Then, reared up with his back against a tree, his heavy furred tail and the rapier-like claws on his three-toed hind feet offer a real menace. Some times, however, one of the animals is driven insane by some injury and wantonly attacks sheep, horses or even human be ings that cross his path. Riding through Paddock Number Nine, one of the great fields that made up Melroy sheep station, Manager Carter had come across the latest outrage of the mad boomer. A valuable saddle horse, ripped to pieces by the kangaroo’s claws, lay dead upon the spot where he had been grazing when attacked. “Tt’s the last straw,” Mr. Carter had said hotly. ‘I’m going to have that boomer’s hide if it takes every man on the place and a month’s time.” Wildly excited that he was to take part in the chase of the mad boomer, Jimsy was out of bed at dawn, forced himself to eat breakfast and raced to the stables to saddle Sugar, a com- pact little bundle of nerves, speed and spring. When, a bit later, the party galloped away from the house it included, besides Jimsy and his father and a dozen hired men, a coal-black aboriginal, dubbed Jacky, who had insisted upon going along. “More better Jacky go,” he had said. “‘Mebbe so one feller white man get bushed.” In spite of the jeering laughter of his men, Manager Carter had nodded permission. It is a terrible thing to get lost in the \ustralian bush where no matter which way you turn every- thing looks the same and there are no landmarks to go by. \t such times an aboriginal, among the best trackers and trail- ers in the world, is invaluable for he will follow signs that to other eyes would not be noticeable at all. Every man carried fastened to his wrist a stout club about three feet long and Jacky had brought along the weapon which for hundreds of years has served his people—a boomerang. The one firearm in the party, a rifle swung, cavalry fashion, in a holster attached to Mr. Carter’s saddle, was intended for dingoes, or wild dogs. Against a kangaroo a bullet is of small use unless it strikes him at the exact point where the tail is joined to the body and deprives him of his balancing pole Brought to bay, the beast is easily dispatched by a blow upon the head with a club. \ pack of hounds, scarred from head to tail as a result of other kangaroo hunts, clamored about the riders as they passed through the gate in the wire fence that surrounded Paddock Number Nine. The great field was typical of the Australian back blocks Its sandy soil was cluttered with anthills, bushes and brush, fire-blackened trees blown down by windstorms and sown with gullies and hidden obstacles. Great clumps of eucalyptus trees dotted the rough, rugged ground. ITH several hundred acres to be combed for the boomer, the party spread out at wide intervals and, heedless of the ground over which they had to ride, traveled at a gallop, the hounds streaming out in front. Ahead of them scores of kangaroos, red or blue or just plain mouse-color, broke cover and bounded away, covering the ground in great leaps that revealed amazing speed. Shouts prevented the dogs from following them and the party galloped on, eyes searching for a glimpse of the huge gray shape of the boomer. Jimsy, thrilled to the core, gave Sugar his head and the sure-footed little horse skilfully hurdled obstacles, sailed over ditches that the boy on his back could not even see, dodged those things he could not leap and held his own in that pell-mell ride toward the distant eucalypti. Suddenly a hundred yards ahead the boomer’s head shot above the bush upon which he had been feeding, his tiny ears cocked toward the hunters. The next instant, as the hounds directed by shouts and waving arms turned in his direction he was off like a flash. Machine-like, his body rose, shot through the air for many feet, dropped, rose again. After him went the hounds, running steadily with occasional leaps above the grass to keep the quarry in sight but saving their breath for the moment when the giant kangaroo should turn to fight. Behind them rode the hunters, galloping still but making no effort to close up on the boomer. For two or three miles any kangaroo can put a race-horse to shame for speed. After that he tires, faces his pursuers while he rests, fending them off, with claw and tail. Then the race is on again and, running and resting by turns, the kangaroo keeps on until exhaustion is near. Then, brought to bay, he makes his last desperate stand and upon whether he whips the dogs or they pin him so that he may be knocked upon the head depends whether the beast ‘More better Jac ky go. Webbe so one feller white man get bus hed” lives or dies. From a grove of trees into which the boomer had disappeared rose a din of dogs’ voices that told that the kangaroo had been overtaken. A furious battle was on when the hunters arrived. The boomer was reared up to his full seven and a half feet, back against a eucalypt, his little eyes darting here and there on all sides where the dogs ringed him about at a distance that showed their respect for the menace he presented. If one of them ven- tured too near his tail swiped them like the crack of a whiplash or one of those armed hind feet shot out with the rapidity of lightning. So they timed their rushes at him for the precise moment when leg or tail returned to the ground to help him regain his balance and sought by single or concerted rushes to confuse him so that one of them might find an opening through which to dart, seize him by the tail and upset him. Once he'went down half a dozen pairs of jaws would snap at his throat. One would be sure to connect and that would be the end. UT the boomer refused to be tricked. He fought coolly, calculatingly and his tail flicked out viciously or he kicked only when some dog came too near. Mostly, however, the crafty hounds swerved when still several feet away, circled and came back to join the attack once more. With a smaller kangaroo it might have been possible to ride up quite close, bring down a club upon the beast’s head and end matters then and there. But this fellow was too big, too fresh. With one blow he might disembowel a horse, seize the falling rider in those short, weak-looking forearms and with one kick of a hind leg rip him wide open. So the hunters stayed away, giving the dogs plenty of room and cheering them on. So far the boomer had all the advantage. One dog, his side laid open, had taken to his heels. Others were blood-flecked where the kangaroo’s sharp teeth had bitten them when they had rushed him while he was getting upright again after a fierce lunge had thrown him off balance and to the ground. The hounds, too, had become tired by their incessant charg- ing and retreating. They drew off to concentrate for a mass attack. Momentary as was the lull, for the boomer it was enough. He rocked back upon his springy tail, gathered his elro By Merlin Moore Taylor Illustrated by Harry H. A. Burne BOYS’ LIFE legs beneath him and as the dogs came toward him leaped high in the air, clearing them, and was off through the trees like a flash. In the weird half-light of the bush he was like some huge gray wraith and his long bounds carried him out of sight before the riders could get into motion. Not so with the dogs, however Winded as they were, far more so than the kangaroo, they tore after him. In their passing they roused other kangaroos and once an emu, badly frightened in his half-wit mind, crossed their path. But, having tested the mettle of the big boomer, the dogs refused to be diverted by other game and kept on. Where a small stream, waist-deep, wended its way between two gently sloping banks the boomer made his second stand. His position in the water gave him a tremendous advantage. The dogs, compelled to swim, could not turn so sharply and one, coming within reach of the needle-like nails of the boom er’s forepaws, was hooked, forced underneath the surface and held there until he drowned. Warned by his fate, the other hounds paddled around out of reach, trying to drive the kangaroo back to dry land where they would have a real chance with him. Sugar chose the moment when it began to appear that things were developing into a game of patience to take the initiative With a snort he plunged into the water and splashed his way toward the boomer. The kangaroo made for the opposite bank, shook himself free of the water which clung to his fur and was off again. The fever of the chase was in Sugar’s blood now and he was hard on the heels of the dogs as they ran. Not far behind galloped Jacky, his years forgotten as with heels and voice he urged his mount to even greater efforts. Partly it was the zest of the thing that urged the black man on, partly the fact that when the boomer was dead to him would come the tapering tail, the only edible part of the kangaroo, from which his /ubra (wife) would make a souy beloved by the aboriginal, although the white man scorns it AVING drawn ahead of the animal which Jimsy bestrode, Jacky elected to bring the chase to an end. The boomer was fagging now and the pursuing hounds were spent from their exertions, so that the black man’s horse rapidly closed up on them. Jacky’s hand with the curved, flat boomerang in it went back and he leaned far forward in the saddle, eagerly watching for the moment when he could hurl the weapon without endangering the dogs. A ragged, irregular ditch, washed out by the rains of past years, gave him his chance. The boomer went over it clear and for the time it takes a watch to tick poised on the far side to regain his balance while the dogs scrambled down one bank and up the other. In that instant Jacky flung his boomerang. It struck the spot where but a moment before the kangaroo had sat and, deflected by some irregularity in the ground, shot off to one side. The narrow escape, however, served to bring out of the boomer new and unexpected speed. Sugar raced into the lead again when Jacky swerved to recover his boomerang. Jimsy saw just ahead of them a great tangle of branches where a tall eucalypt had crashed to the ground and the boomer turn and leap obliquely across the trunk. To the boy’s surprise he did not bob up again and when, a moment later, the dogs circled the butt and gavc tongue he knew that the kangaroo had come to a stand again. Sugar skidded to a stop at the fallen tree and, rising in the stirrups, Jimsy discovered why the boomer had not kept on. He was in a trap. When the eucalypt had fallen it had carried down with it another big gum and they now lay at a sharp angle to each other so that their branches interlaced and their trunks formed the sides of a huge “V.” The boomer’s leap, arched so as to carry him over the one trunk he could see, had not been sufficiently high to carry him over the second and he had fallen between them. The dogs, rushing in at the open end of the “V,” had driven him back and now he stood with his back to one of the trunks keeping them off with tail and feet. Jimsy pulled Sugar alongside the trunk, scrambled from the saddle to the tree and, with club poised, began to steal along it toward the kangaroo. Out of the corner of his eye, however, the boomer had seen him and, by a quick feint, drove off the dogs and switched his body around so that now he stood with his back against the other trunk and facing the boy. There was the clatter of hoofs and Jacky galloped up. “Hey, hey one feller boomer this time finish plenty quick,” he yelled, taking in the situation at a glance. He took one foot from the stirrup to swing himself from the saddle to the fallen March Pea

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FOR ALL BOYS tree beside the boy. Disturbed by the commotion, a death lizard ran out from under the eucalypt and between the feet of the black man’s horse. Stiff-legged, the animal swerved and went into the air. Jacky was torn loose from his seat, thrown upon the rounded tree trunk and, before Jimsy could clutch at his cloth- ing, rolled over and dropped at the feet of the boomer! OR the moment the boomer was engaged with the dogs and Jacky scrambled to his feet. Between him and the open end stood the boomer, towering over him by a good two feet. As the dogs stood between him and the open, so the kangaroo. stood blocking the exit for the black man. To attempt to run past the enraged beast was to risk being hooked by those sharp hooks in his forepaws or, worse, be ripped open by his hind feet or flattened by a_ blow from his tail. To climb the slippery trunk of the fallen tree was impossible. Jacky was in a tight fix! In the black man_ the boomer saw only a new and more dangerous enemy, so while he kept the dogs away en with an occasional kick, he shifted his stand slightly and gave Jacky the lion’s share of his attention. / In front of his heaving breast his short forepaws moved in tiny circles as a boxer’s gloved fists are waggled before an opponent. His little eyes burned with hate and desperation and he rested his weight upon his left foot and his tail while his right was drawn up, ready to present its sharp clawto either manor dogs. Jimsy stood transfixed, terror-stricken by what he ex- pected to see any moment yet powerless to turn his head HEN we trooped out of the pines next morn- ing, the sun, rising gloriously bright, had already taken off the keen edge of the frosty air, presag- ing a warm day. The white ridges glistened; the bunches of sage scintillated, and the cedars, tipped in snow, resembled trees with brilliant blossoms. We lost no time riding for the mouth of Left Canyon, into which Jim had trailed the three lions. On the way the snow, as we had expected, began to thin out, and it failed altogether under the cedars, though there was enough on the branches to give us a drenching. Jim reined in on the verge of a narrow gorge, and informed us the cave was below. Jones looked the ground over and said Jim had better take the hounds down while the rest of us re- mained above to await developments. Jim went dowr on foot, calling the hounds and holding them close. We listened eagerly for him to yell or the pack to open up, but we were disappointed. In less than half an hour Jim came climbing out, with the information that the lions had left the cave, probably the evening after he had chased them there. “Well, then,” said Jones, “let’s split the pack, and hunt round the rims of these canyons. We can signal to each other if necessary.” ; So we arranged for Jim to take Ranger and the pups across Left Canyon; Emett to try Middle Canyon with Don and Moze, and we were to perform a like office in Right Canyon with Sounder and Jude. Emett rode back with us, leaving us where we crossed Middle Canyon. Jones and I rimmed a mile of our canyon and worked out almost to the west end of the Bay, without finding so much as a single track, so we started to retrace our way. The sun was now hot; the snow all gone; the ground dry as if it had never Copyright by Zane Grey | Y24 . IAS im the 0 5 __ w 4 By Zane Grey With Photographs by the Author been damp; and Jones grumbled that no success would attend our efforts this morning. We reached the ragged mouth of Right Canyon, where it opened into the deep, wide Bay, and because we hoped to hear our companions across the canyon, we rode close to the rim. Sounder and Jude both began to bark on a cliff; however, as we could find no tracks in the dust we called them off. Sounder obeyed reluctantly, but Jude wanted to get down over the wall. “They scent a lion,” averred Jones. “Let’s put them ver the wall.” Once permitted to go, the hounds needed no assistance. They ran up and down the rim till they found a crack. Hardly had they gone out of sight when we heard them yelping. We rushed to the rim and looked over. The first step was short, a crumbled section of wall, and from it led down a long slope, dotted here and there with cedars. Both hounds were baying furiously. I spied Jude with her paws up on a cedar, and above her hung a lion, so close that she could nearly reach him. Sounder was not yet in sight. “There! There!’’ I cried, directing Jones’s glance. “Are we not lucky?” “T see. By George! Come, we'll go down. Leave everything that you don’t absolutely need.” Spurs, chaps, gun, coat, hat, I left on the rim, taking only my camera and lasso. I had forgotten to bring my canteen. We descended a ladder of shaly cliff, the steps of which broke under our feet. The slope below us was easy, and ot ee | As Jimsy scrambled along the trunk the rancl 13 away. Vaguely he heard the other hunters arriving, discerned their shouted queries at him. “The rifle, dad! The rifle,’ he screamed and felt it thrust into his hand. The boomer, too, had heard the others come up and appar- ently he realized that it was then or never with him. His poised foot, after one vicious kick in the direction of the dogs, went down to the ground and he swayed back for his lunge at Jacky. Desperately the black man struck at - him with the boomer- ang. The blow did not land but it delayed the boomer for the moment that it took him to twist his head, seize the weapon in his paws and twist it out of the man’s : hand. Then he Ho leaned forward Mg with those ter- rible front claws extended toward Jacky - NOTHER in- stant and he would have seized the aborig- inal, his arms about the black man’s body, those claws f boomer switched his body around, fas tened in and stood facing the boy his s back and the horrible hind claw ripping him down the front. Jimsy had suddenly gone quite cool. The rifle came to his shoulder, the sights were drawn upon the root of the boomer’s tail, his finger pulled the trigger. Jacky had flung himself sideways to the ground as the kangaroo reached for him. Now, his tail almost severed by the heavy bullet, the huge beast swayed for a moment uncertainly, recovered his balance, lost it again and toppled over upon the body of the black man. Before his wildly kicking legs could do any damage the dogs swarmed over them and ripped out his throat. They dragged Jacky out from under the carcass, little the worse but still badly frightened. The shaking old man fell upon his knees, bent his head and kissed the dusty shoes of the dumfounded Jimsy. “Mass’ Jimsy,” he said earnestly, “you my one feller brother, Jacky your one feller slave.” Which, to an Australian blackfellow, is about the most binding token of gratitude and devotion there is. soon we stood on a level with the lion. The cedar was small, and afforded no good place for him. Evidently he jumped from the slope to the tree, and had hung where he first alighted. ‘“‘Where’s Sounder? Look for him. I hear him below. This lion won’t stay treed long.” I, too, heard Sounder. The cedar tree obstructed my view, and I moved aside. A hundred feet farther down the hound bayed under a tall pifion. High in the branches I saw a great mass of yellow, and at first glance thought Sounder had treed old Sultan. How I yelled! Then a second glance showed two lions close together. “Two more! two more! look! look!’ i yelled to Jones. “Hi! Hi! Hi!’ he joined his robust yell to mine, and for a moment we made the canyon bellow. When we stopped for breath the echoes bayed at us from the opposite walls. “Waa-hoo!”” Emett’s signal, faint, far away, soaring but un- mistakable, floated down to us. Across the jutting capes separating the mouths of these canyons, high above them on the rim wall of the opposite side of the Bay, stood a giant white horse silhouetted against the white sky. They made a brave picture, one most welcome to us. We yelled in chorus: “Three lions treed! Three lions treed! come down—hurry!”’ A CRASH of rolling stones made us wheel. Jude’s lion had jumped. He ran straight down, drawing Sounder from his guard. Jude went tearing after them. “T’'Il follow; you stay here. Keep them up there, if you can!” yelled Jones. Then in long strides he passed down out of sight among the trees and crags. It had all happened so quickly that I could scarcely realize it. The yelping of the hounds, the clattering of stones, grew fainter, telling me Jude and Sounder, with Jones, were going to the bottom of the Bay. Both lions snarling at me brought me to a keen appre- ciation of the facts in the case. ‘Two full-grown lions to

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14 be kept treed without hounds, without a campanian, without a gun ‘This is fine! This is funny!” I cried, and for a moment I wanted to run. But the same grim, deadly feeling that had taken me with Don around the narrow shelf now rose in me stronger I pronounced one savage malediction upon myself for leaving my gun. I could not go for it; I would have to make the best of my error, and in the wildness born of the moment I swore if the lions would stay treed for the hounds they would stay treed for me. First I photographed them from different positions; then [ took up my stand about on a level with them in an open place on the slope where they had me in plain sight. I might have been fifty feet from them, They showed no inclination to come down. About this moment I heard hounds below, coming down from the left. I called and called, but they passed on down the canyon bottom in the direction Jones had taken. Presently a chorus of bays, emphasized by Jones’s yell, told me his lion had treed again. ‘“Waa-hoo!”’ rolled down from above. I saw Emett farther to the left from the point where he had just appeared. *Where—can—I—get—down?”’ , I surveyed the walls of the Bay. Cliff on cliff, slide on slide, jumble, crag, and ruin, baffled my gaze. But I finally picked ind fiercer. out a path. Farther to the left,” I yelled, and waited. He passed on, Don at his heels. “There,” I yelled again, “stop there; let Don go down with your lasso, and come yourself.” { watched him swing the hound down a wall, and pull the lip noose free. Don slid to the edge of a slope, trotted to the right and left of crags, threaded the narrow places, and turned in the direction of the baying hounds. He passed on the verge of precipices that made me tremble for him; but sure-footed as a goat, he went on safely down, to disappear far to my right Then I saw Emett sliding, leg wrapped around his lasso, down the first step of the rim. His lasso, doubled so as to reach round a cedar above, was too short to extend to the landing He dropped, raising a cloud of dust, and tarting the stones. Pulling one end of his lasso up around the cedar he gathered it in a coil on his arm and faced forward Don trail. below following \ HAT strides he took! In the clear light, with that wild red and yellow background, with the stones and gravel roaring down, streaming over the walls like waterfalls, he eemed a giant pursuing a foe. From time to time he sent up a yell of encouragement that wound down the canyon, to be answered by Jones and the baying hounds and then the strange echoes. At last he passed out of sight behind the crests of the trees; | heard him going down, down till the sounds came up faint and hollow { was left absolutely alone with my two lions and never did a hunter so delight in a situation. I sat there in the sun watch- ing them. For a long time they were quiet, listening. But as the bays and yells below diminished in volume and occurrence and then ceased altogether, they became restless. It was then that I, remembering the lion I had held on top of the crag, began to bark like a hound. The lions became quiet once more I bayed them for an hour. My voice grew from hoarse to hoarser, and finally failed in my throat. The lions immediately grew restless again. The lower one hissed, spat and growled at me, and made many attempts to start down, each one of which I frustrated by throwing stones under the tree. At length he made one more determined effort, turned head downward, and stepped from branch to branch. I dashed down the incline with a stone in one hand and a long club in the other. Instinctively I knew I must hurt him— make him fear me. If he got far enough down to jump, he would either escape or have me helpless. I aimed deliberately at him, and hit him square in the ribs. He exploded in a spit roar that raised my hair. Directly under him I wielded my club, pounded on the tree, thrashed at the branches and, like the crazy fool that I was, yelled at him: “Go back! Go back! Don’t you dare come down! I'd break your old head for you!” foolish or not, this means effectually stopped the descent. He climbed to his first perch. It was then, realizing what | had done, that I would certainly have made tracks from under the pifon, if I had not heard the faint yelp of a hound. [ listened. It came again, faint but clearer. I looked up at my lions. They too heard, forjthey were very still. I saw how strained they held their heads. I backed a little. way up the slope. Then the faint yelp floated up again in the silence. Such dead, strange silence, that seemed never to have been broken! I saw the lions quiver, and if I ever heard anything in my life I heard their hearts thump. The yelp wafted up again, closer this time. I recognized it; it belonged to Don. The great hound on the back trail of the other lion was coming to my rescue, “It’s Don! It’s Don! It’s Don!’ I cried, shaking my club at the lions. “It’s all up with you now!”’ What feelings stirred me then! Pity for those lions dominated me. Big, tawny, cruel fellows as they were, they shivered with fright. Their sides trembled. But pity did not hold me long; Don’s yelp, now getting clear and sharp, brought back the rush of savage, grim sensations. \ full-toned bay attracted my attention from the lions to the downward slope I saw a yellow form moving under the trees and climbing fast. It was Don. “Hi! Hi! old boy!” I yelled. Then it seemed he moved up like a shot and stood all his long length, forepaws against the pifion, his deep bay ringing defiance to the lions. It was a great relief, not to say a probable necessity, for me to sit down just then. “Now come down,” [I said to my lions; “you can’t catch that hound, and you can’t get away from him.” M! JMENTS passed. I was just on the point of deciding to go down to hurry up my comrades, when I heard the other hounds coming. Yelp on yelp, bay on bay, made wel- come music to my ears. Then a black and yellow, swiftly flying string of hounds bore into sight down the slope, streaked up and circled the pijion. Jones, who at last showed his tall stooping form on the steep ascent, seemed as long in coming as the hounds had been swift. “Did you get the lion? less eagerness. Where’s Emett?” I asked in breath- BOYS’ LIFE “Lion tied—all fast,” replied the panting Jones. “Left Emett—to guard—him.” “What are we to do now?” “Wait—till I get my breath. Think out—a plan. We can’t get both lions—out of one tree.” “All right,” I replied, after a moment’s thought. “I'll tie Sounder and Moze. You go up the tree. That first lion will jump, sure; he’s almost ready now. Don and the other hounds will tree him again pretty soon. If he runs up the canyon, well and good. Then, if you can get the lasso on the other, I'll yell for Emett to come up to help you, and I'll follow Don.” Jones began the ascent of the pifion. The branches were not too close, affording him easy climbing. Before we looked for even a move on the part of the lions, the lower one began stepping down. I yelled a warning, but Jones did not have time to take advantage of it. He had half turned, meaning to wing out and drop, when the lion planted both forepaws upon his back. Jones went sprawling down with the lion almost on him. Don had his teeth in the lion before he touched the ground, and when he did strike the rest of the hounds were on him. A cloud of dust rolled down the slope. The lion broke loose and with great springy bounds ran up the canyon, Don and his followers hot-footing it after him. Moze and Sounder broke the dead sapling to which I had tied them, and dragging it behind them, endeavored in frenzied action to join the chase. I drew them back, loosening the rope, so in case the other lion jumped I could free them quickly. Jones calmly gath- ered himself up, rear ranged his lasso, took his long stick, and proceeded to mount the pifion again. I waited till I saw him slip the noose over the lion’s head, then I ran down the slope to yell for Emett. He answered at once I told him to hurry to Jones’s assistance With that I headed up the canyon. I hung close to the / broad trail left by the WY K lion and his pursuers. . I passed perilously BILLY IN CAMP ~ near the brink of One of the mountain lions cap precipices, but fear of tured by Mr. Grey and kis com them was not in me panions. A number of these that day. I passed out animals were brought into camp of the Bay sato. the after having been treed by the mouth of Left Can- dogs and captured by the hunters who climbed after them among —_ and began "= the branches. Billy is voicing climb. The baying of a whole-hearted complaint about the hounds directed his treatment me. In the box of yellow walls the chorus seemed to come from a hundred dogs. When I found them, close to a low cliff, baying the lion in a thick, dark pifion, Ranger leaped into my arms and next Don stood up against me with his paws on my shoulders. These were strange actions, and though I marked it at the moment, I had ceased to wonder at our hands. I took one picture as the lion sat in the dark shade, and then climbed to the low cliff and sat down. I called Don to me and held him. In case our quarry leaped upon the cliff | wanted a hound to put quickly on his trail. — hour passed. It must have been a dark hour for the lion—he looked as if it were—and one of im- patience for the baying hounds, but for me it was a full hour. Alone with the hounds and a lion, far from the walks of men, walled in by the wild-colored cliffs, with the dry, sweet smell of cedar and pifion, I asked no more. Sounder and Moze, vociferously venting their arrival, were forerunners to Jones. I saw his gray locks waving in the breeze, and yelled for him to take his time. As he reached me the lion jumped and ran up the canyon. This suited me, for I knew he would take to a tree soon and the farther up he went the less distance we would have to pack him. From the cliff I saw him run up a slope, pass a big cedar, cunningly turn on his trail, and then climb into the tree and hide in its thickest part. Don passed him, got off the trail, and ran at fault. The others, so used to his leadership, were also baffled. But Jude, crippled and slow, brought up the rear, and she did not go a yard beyond where the lion turned. She opened up her deep call under the cedar, and in a moment the howling pack were around her. Jones and I toiled laboriously upward. He had brought my lasso, and he handed it to me with the significant remark that I would soon have need of it. The cedar was bushy and overhung a yellow, bare slope that made Jones shake his head. He climbed March

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FOR ALL BOYS the tree, lassoed the spitting lion and then leaped down to my side. By united and determined efforts we pulled the lion off the limb and let him down. The hounds began to leap at him. We both roared in a rage at them but to no use. ‘Hold him there!’”’ shouted Jones, leaving me with the lasso while he sprang forward. The weight of the animal dragged me forward and, had I not taken a half hitch round a dead snag, would have lifted me off my feet or pulled the lasso from my hands. As it was, the choking lion, now within reach of the furious, leaping hounds, swung to and fro before my face. He could not see me, but his frantic lunges narrowly missed me. r NEVER before, Jones then showed his genius. Don had hold of the lion’s flank, and Jones, grabbing the hound by the hind legs, threw him down the slope. Don fell and rolled a hundred feet before he caught himself. Then Jones threw old Moze rolling, and Ranger, and all except faithful Jude. Before they could get back he roped the lion again and made fast to a tree. Then he yelled for me to let go. The lion fell. Jones grabbed the lasso, at the same time calling for me to stop the hounds. As they came bounding up the steep slope, I had to club the noble fellows into submission. Before the lion recovered wholly from his severe choking, we had his paws bound fast. Then he could only heave his tawny sides, glare and spit at us. *Now what?” asked Jones. “*Emett is watching the second lion, which we fastened by chain and lasso to a swinging branch. I’m all in. My heart won’t stand any more climb.” “You go to camp for the pack horses,”’ I said briefly. “Bring them all, and all the packs, and Navvy, too. I'll help Emett tie up the second lion, and then we'll pack them Both up here to this one. You take the hounds with you.” “Can you tie up that lion?” asked Jones. ‘Mind you, he’s loose except for a collar and chain. His claws haven’t been clipped. Besides, it'll be an awful job to pack those two lions up here.” “We can try,” I said. “You hustle to camp. Your horse is right up back of here, across the point, if I don’t mistake my bearings.” Jones, admonishing me again, called the hounds and wearily climbed the slope. I waited until he was out of hearing; then began to retrace my trail down into the canyon. I made the descent in quick time, to find Emett standing guard over the lion. The beast had been tied to an overhanging branch that swung violent ly with every move he made. “When I got here,” said Emett, “he was hanging over the side of that rock, almost choked to death. I drove him into this corner between the rocks and the tree, where he has been comparatively quiet. Now, what’s up? Where is Jones? Did you get the third lion?” [ related what had occurred, and then said we were to tie this lion and pack him with the other one up the canyon, to meet Jones and the horses. “All right,” replied Emett, with a grim laugh. “We'd better get at it. Now I’m some worried about the lion we left below. He ought to be brought up, but we both can’t go. This lion here will kill himself.” “What will the other one weigh?” “All of one hundred and fifty pounds.” “You can’t pack him alone.” “Cll try, and I reckon that’s the best plan. Watch this fellow and keep him in the corner.” Imett left me then, and I began a third long vigil beside a lion. The rest was more than welcome. An hour and a half passed before I heard the sliding of stones below, which told me that Emett was coming. “He appeared on the slope almost bent double, carrying the lion, head downward, before him. He could climb only a few steps without lowering his burden and resting. [ ran down to meet him. We secured a stout pole, and slipping this between the-lion’s paws, below where they were tied, we managed to carry him fairly well, and after several rests, got him up alongside the other. “Now to tie that rascal!” exclaimed Emett. “Jones said he was the meanest one he’d tackled, and I believe it. We'll cut a piece off of each lasso, and unravel them so as to get strings. I wish Jones hadn't tied the lasso to that swinging branch.’ “Tl go and untie 1t.’’ Acting on this suggestion I climbed the tree and started out on the branch. The lion growled fiercely. “I’m afraid you’d better stop,” warned Emett. branch is bending, and the lion can reach you.” But despite this I slipped out a couple of yards farther, and had almost gotten to the knotted lasso, when the branch swayed and bent alarmingly. The lion sprang from his corner and crouched under me snarling and spitting, with every indication of leaping. “Jump! Jump! Jump!” shouted Emett hoarsely. I dared not, for I could not jump far enough to get out of the lion’s reach. I raised my legs and began to slide myself back up the branch. The lion leaped, missing me, but scatter- ing the dead twigs. Then the beast, beside himself with fury, “That 1024 half leaped, half stood up, and reached forme. I looked down into his blaz- ing eyes, and open mouth and saw his white fangs. Everything grew blurred before my eyes. I desperately fought for con- trol over mind and muscle. I heard hoarse roars from Emett. Then I felt a hot, burning pain in my wrist, which stung all my faculties into keen life again. I saw the lion’s beaked claws fastened in my leather wrist- band. At the same instant Emett dashed under the branch, and grasped the lion’s tail. One powerful lunge of his broad shoulders tore the lion loose and flung him down the slope to the full extent of his lasso. Quick as thought I jumped down, and just in time to prevent Emett from attacking the lion with the heavy pole we had used. “TI kill him! T’ll kill him!” roared Emett. “No you won’t,” I replied, quietly, for my pain had served to soothe my excitement as well as to make me more deter- mined. ‘‘ We'll tie up the darned tiger, if he cuts us all to pieces. You know how Jones will give us the laugh if we fail. Here, bind up my wrist.” MENTION of Jones’s probable ridicule and sight of my injury cooled Emett. “It’s a nasty scratch,” he said, binding my handkerchief round it. “‘The leather saved your hand from being torn off. He’s an ugly brute, but you’re right, we'll tie him. Now, let’s each take a lasso and worry him till we get hold of a paw. Then we can stretch him out.” Jones did a fiendish thing when he tied that lion to the swinging branch. It was almost worse than having him entirely free. He had a circle almost twenty feet in diameter in which he could run and leap at will. It seemed he was in the air all the time. First at Emett, then at me he sprang, mouth agape, eyes wild, claws spread. We whipped him with our nooses, but not one would hold. He always tore it off before we could draw it tight. I secured a precarious hold on one hind paw and straightened my lasso. “That’s far enough,” cried Emett. don’t lift him off the ground.” ““Now hold him tight; THE COLORADO RIVER The great river where it flows between the massive precipices that form the Grand Canyon. While this canyon was dis- covered by the expedition under Fran- cisco Coronado which explored the Southwest between 1539 and 1541, it is still a wild country where the mountain lions described by Mr. Grey abound A TREED MOUNTAIN LION These animals prey on farmers’ and ranchmen’s stock and kill large numbers of valuable animals. In_ this. article Mr. Grey tells how they are “treed” and then captured by the hunters who climb up after them I had backed up the slope. Emett faced the lion, noose ready, waiting for a favorable chance to rope a front paw. The lion crouched low and tense, only his long tail lashing back and forth across my lasso. Emett threw the loop in front of the spread paws, now half sunk into the dust. “Fase up; ease up,” said he. “‘I’ll tease him to jump into the noose.” I let my rope sag. Emett poked a stick into the lion’s face. All at once I saw the slack in the lasso which was tied to the lion’s chain. Before I could yell to warn my comrade the beast leaped. My rope burned as it tore through my hands. The lion sailed into the air, his paws wide-spread like wings, and one of them struck Emett on the head and rolled him on the slope. Ijerked backonmy ropeonly to findit had slippedits hold. “He slugged me one,” remarked Emett, calmly rising and picking up his hat. “ Did he break the skin?” * “No, but he tore your hatband off,” I replied. keep at him.” For a few moments or an hour—no one will ever know how long—we ran round him, raising the dust, scattering the stones, breaking the branches, dodging his onslaughts. He leaped at us to the full length of his tether, sailing right into our faces, a fierce, uncowed, tigerish beast. If it had not been for the collar and swivel he would have choked himself a hundred times. Quick as a cat, supple, powerful, tireless, he (Continued on page 60) “Let’s

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RO . O LUCK! But we'll track the swine early to morrow and bag him; for there'll be a rain to-night.” Bob Forsyth smiled back at his father as the latter made that announcement. How like an English- man father talked, after all these years in Burma! Bob, just returned from his five years’ schooling at home in the Shenandoah Military Academy, found his boyhood home, this cattle ranch of the Kyetchygyan Cattle, Inc., unchanged since he had sailed for America and school as a boy of twelve. The same large compound, with the high bamboo fence to keep out tigers and leopards; the same palm thatched cattle barns, housing the famous breed of hot-country cattle devel- oped by Mr. Forsyth from Virginia stock; the same brick bungalow, high-ceilinged and with the whole upper story of teak louvres to let in the monsoon breeze through the bed- rooms. It was all good to Bob; home, dear home, crowded with boy- hood memories! Except for unconsciously adopting the English idioms, still tempered, however, with a soft Virginia accent, his father had not changed much either. The same big, hand- some athlete; a boy’s ideal and hero. When he had left Burma five years before, no less than four tigers had come into the Kyetchygyan District, attracted by the cattle ranch as flies around a sugar bowl. Now only one was left, “Tiger Royal,”’ the ranch called him; a huge, sleek Bengal and very sly. He was a nuisance during the hot weather, when the ground was too dry and baked to follow his spoor, for he took one of the prize Forsyth Kyetchygyans about once a fortnight. He scorned the tethered goat before a shooting stand. Time and again he had escaped through the ring of native beaters assembled by the ranch. Poison and traps he simply ignored. “Royal” had been more ‘than a problem, he had been a pest, during this last hot weather, but the rains were now due and Mr. Forsyth and his guest, Major Wallace, of the Indian Army, were confident of getting him by tracking him up. ; Bob wanted to go along with the men, but he had no illusions about kid heroics where tigers were concerned. He simply had not the nerve to stand and face it when Royal’s tail would go up and he would launch himself into that incredibly swift charge of the Bengal tiger. Some day, perhaps this season, after he had faced a leopard or two, Bob felt he might ask for permission to go along, but he was bashful about making any such request now. His father would consider it foolhardiness and laugh at him. Galling thought—but it was true! , Until he had trained his nerves on lesser game there was no use “horning in,’”’ only to make an ass of himself and perhaps putting everyone’s life in danger by some mortifying bolt at the crisis of that charge. Men had to stand and face it like rocks, Bob knew; also father would invite him along just as soon as he considered him ready—and dad knew! “Tt’s no end of a curiosity, really, Forsyth,” the major was saying as the three walked slowly across the compound toward the cool verandah of the main bungalow. “A real Hindoo stupa. Heaven knows how old it is! Time of King Asoka, three centuries before Christ, I should say. They built stupas in Burma then, before native art changed them to the by \ WARREN \\HASTINGS Illustrations by Lynn Bogue Hunt present bell-shaped pagoda. Might dis- cover most anything in its crypt, y'know; some priceless relic of Gautama himself, or maybe a gold Buddha statue, set in rubies.” Bob listened, all agog with curiosity, while the two men walked jbeside him, looking like giant Eastern boy scouts, with their battered khaki topees on head, with wide and flap- ping khaki running shorts exposing their bare knees above the inevitable spiral puttees. His father was listening moodily, his heavy double rifle hanging over a lean and brown bare forearm. ‘“‘ Might give it a look, some day,”’ he answered indifferently, “but bagging ‘Royal’ is our main business now. A stupa on my own property, you say?” “Right-o! I was hunting down that wild valley of the Nam King when I came across it. All in ruins, of course, the wide stone platform around it all cracked up with scrub growth. But the soil is rocky laterite, so that big trees did not obliterate the whole site as they would in richer soil. I fancy that is what has preserved it so long.” The little dark major stepped his way noiselessly up the verandah with that short jungle stride of his as they talked. A direct descendant of that boy’s hero, William Wallace, the major himself was a man for adulation to Bob. He did not look Scotch nor talk Scotch, and was totally unlike Bob’s own conceptions of what the great William Wallace must have been like; but the major was famous as a big-game hunter and for his border exploits, and he had at least one attribute of his historic ancestor, undaunted courage. The men attacked the tea and cakes that Mrs. Forsyth was serving on the verandah. Bob found himself seated in a secluded corner beside the major, who was backward about coming forward when a party of neighbors was at tea, and the verandah was crowded with them now, rubber planters and their wives and daughters, rice men, camphor men. “T say, young ’un, why don’t you go and have a look at that stupa?” the major was inquiring. “I doubt if your pater and I hunt that way to-morrow. ‘They’re all ragging him so about not getting ‘Royal’ that I fancy we'll keep right on after him until we bag the brute, so he’s quite like to forget all about it. It’s not five miles from here. You can’t miss it, if you strike for the Nam King and follow up near to its headwaters. No end of a find, my word! A stupa in any state of preservation at all is rare in Burma, y’know.” “Glad to, sir!” came back Bob brightly. “I'll take along a small pick and have a report for you by to-morrow night.” “Better take a rifle, too, young ’un!’’ laughed the major. “Spots is always a swine and will stand and fight you every time. Nothing much to fear from Stripes if you go in the daytime. It’s a wild region up there.” “Tll take the .377 Holland; how about it?” agreed Bob. ‘**No use making a beast of burden of myself, is there? I may have something to carry back, you know.” “Rather light rifle,” said the major, “‘ but it’s a hundred-to- one shot that you won’t meet Royal anywhere. You'll ask the pater’s permission, of course?” ‘“‘Sure!’’ said Bob, and left him to get a word in with his father, who was joking about their poor luck with Royal in a group of jovial planters who were also interested in getting rid of the brute. But before Bob could reach him, one of the BOYS’ LIFE Burmese headmen called him off the verandah on some cattle matter. Bob went back to the major and got more details about the stupa. Any relic of this kind was sure to be interesting. Built in the form of a great brick dome, amazing finds of old and princely times were often found in the small dark crypts under them. It beat treasure-seeking all hollow! A treasure twenty-three centuries old, and of an Oriental magnificence that would make a hoard of dollars look cheap! He was keen to go on the quest of such a thing. FTER tea, the showers and a rub- down, followed by a shift into white dinner jacket and silk cummerbund, occu- pied him until dinner. Still his father had not returned. A lost bunch of bullocks kept him, they learnt at dinner. This put Bob in a quandary, for he could not now secure permission for his trip. It put him face to face with the question, “* What ts disobedience?” If he went without asking it would not be disobedience, tech- nically, but conscience said it was, just the same. “Never do anything that your father wouldn’t do,’ was Mr. Forsyth’s only rule with his boys. A hard rule for a fellow to live up to, when you came to analyze it! Of course there were things no fellow would do, and that father himself had been above doing from his youth up, but the mischief of it was that there were plenty of other things an older man would not do because his mature judgment told him not to, yet which looked quite all right to Bob. **No boy is ever bad, but all are foolish,” was another of his father’s maxims. Was it foolhardiness to go and explore this stupa, knowing that there was a possibility of Royal com- ing that way? Bob’s whole being rejected impatiently the kind of caution which would prevent a fellow doing anything that involved danger, and his courage revolted against the assump- tion that this beast would be too much for him, even with a good rifle in his hands. Still—wou/d father regard it as too risky, and refuse permission if he asked him? And would going to that stupa alone, at his age, be one of those things that father wouldn’t do? It was not a question of morality, it was a question of judgment; yet Bob wanted to follow his father in all things. He was Bob’s hero, and the boy now strove to put himself mentally into father’s probable state of mind toward this thing at his age of seventeen. Bob grinned as he thought it over—father would have grabbed a gun and steamed out for that stupa hot-foot, at his age, if he knew him! N EXT morning decided it for him. Bob found that he had slept late and that the men had set out at early dawn hunting for Royal’s tracks. There had been a row over in a native Burmese village during the night, he learned, in which Royal had leaped the gate and taken a dog out of the village street while the natives cowered in their huts, banging gongs and popping cannon crackers to frighten him away. Their religion did not permit them to kill him. His father, too, had got in late after finding the lost bullocks, but that had not prevented him from rising early to set out with Po Hkmer, the Shan shikari (hunter) of the estate. Bob quelled any ques- tionings of conscience over his technical disobedience in going, selected the .377 Holland from the gun-room, and had the Hindoo head table-boy put up a pocket lunch for him. An old army trench pick that was of light and fine steel would carry easily in his belt, to use when he got there for excavation work. The morning was misty and luminous under Burma’s hot sun as he set out over the rice-plot embankments outside the compound. The first of the rains had fallen during the night, a hard shower, enough to cover the cracked mud of the paddy patches and render the jungle duff soft and moist so a track could be followed. Bob stepped out, whistling vigorously as the hard breeze drove his running shorts flapping about the lean and bony legs of him. The wind growled and grunted in the ventilator of his topee, a soft and intermittent noise that kept him listening hard for real jungle noises, like the grunt of a wild buffalo or the bark of a deer, easily confused when distant with those helmet growls just over his head. He got into a vast thicket of blue bamboo, grown up with glades of weeds and grass in between and backed by the deep green of a teak forest. Here he cut a switch, for when you met a cobra he was not flat on the ground like a black-snake at home, but usually with head raised ready to strike, and you had to switch him quick and break his neck. The trail wound up through familiar landmarks of boyhood days, great groves of merinos and banyans, through dense scrub where a leopard had been hunted out the week before his arrival; and then it climbed into the dry and jungly yomas or ridges to the north. By ten o’clock he had reached the Nam King, and from there bade farewell to the friendly trail. Now it was all bush going, along the flanks of its hot and dry ravine. Bob was soon up above the great tree growth of the March

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FOR ALL BOYS creek bottom and in sparse, dry, rocky country where one had to watch his step, for almost anything might be en- countered here. Burma was a peculiar country, Bob reflected, as he went along cautiously, trying to keep down spells of jumpiness. So many deadly things! You simply could not plunge along heedlessly, as on a hike through the Cumberlands at home. “Spots” had a way of leaping down at you out of a tree for introduction that required an eye out ahead on each one of them; then there were three species of brightly colored adders, deadly venomous; the ordinary Indian cobra in tolerable numbers; and the great hamadryad cobra, which attacks man onsight. This sunny hillside would be a great place for them, so Bob kept a sharp eve ahead. Luckily the smaller ones struck so low that his heavy leather shoes rendered him immune. But in spite of rugged attempts to fight down the conviction that this trip was foolhardiness, Bob found the accusing finger of common-sense pointing at him more and more insistently. his was Burma; not the comparatively safe forests of America! To have gone exploring alone, without even a single native along, was—well, Father would have considered it inexcusable in him! The contrast between the manly ideal of wary courage, as represented by his father, and his own thoughtless tendency to get himself into trouble, was becoming dramatic under these practical object lessons of Burma’s jungles! T length the sfupa ruins came in sight, in fact were there before he realized it. Bob came out of a dense thicket of flowering bougain-villeas, to gaze, almost with surprise, on those jungle-covered stone evidences of man’s handiwork across the valley. The stupa and its platform were discernible through tufts and masses of sparse shrubbery, spreading far and wide on a flat promontory which jutted out into a bend of the Nam King. Bob took a good look at it before venturing to descend. The rounded mass of masonry which was the body of the stupa still bore patches of the origi- nal plaster. It shimmered in the heat, bare of any vegetation whatever. Dried and shrivelled leafage fringed its smooth dome, evidences of plant life which had started during the last rains, only to perish in the hot weather. It was this fact which had kept it intact through the centuries, as it has many another relic in Burma. Dry thorn bushes marked the cracks in the platform. Bob looked in vain for the former bodhi trees. They had perished centuries ago, but no seed from them had obtained a roothold. Stunted descendants, growing on the ravine flanks below, told what had happened to ficus religiosa at this site. “Well, I’m here, anyhow!” exclaimed Bob to himself, smiling grimly. ‘I’m a fool, of course, but—darn it, a fellow’s just got to train his nerve in this country or he’ll go phut!”’ He worked down warily into the ravine. The nearer you got to water, the more deadly things there would be. Sunlight streamed down on the bare boulders dotting the stream. A dense tangle of bushes lined both banks, making a crossing difficult to find. Small creatures slipped out of sight as he reconnoitered; a small adder not a foot long stood his ground, with head drawn back to strike, full of the courage of his race—but a mon- goose pounced on him and was gone before Bob could wink. He found a clump of bamboos overhanging the stream, and _ here there was space under its shade where one could reach the bank and cross. Bob fought his way uphill and __ finally reached the stupa platform. _—_ Lizards scurried off at his approach; a fireback pheasant ran in a red and gold streak off between the bushes. Then a trodden tuft of lalang grass that was trying to grow in a crack of the flagging attracted him. Bob stooped down and studied it, for everything was significant in this region. Half of the clump was squashed 1024 down flat. The track had been made that morning, early, for the grasses were already trying to raise themselves again. He examined it carefully for the sharp line of the edge of a hoof, the cut of a claw, something to identify the animal which had made it. But there was nothing. Something soft yet firm, like a hard cushion had made that track. Some- thing big as your two hands spread, for only half of the foot had pressed down that grass. Bob arose with somewhat unhappy sensations of mixed fear and courage struggling within him. Tiger!—Royal had made that track! He shrugged his shoulders. Where is the shadow-line be- tween bravery and foolhardiness? His courage had not been tried yet; had not grown enough through familiarity and tri- umph over danger yet to be trusted, according to his father’s viewpoint. He could only hope that it would not fail him when his very life would depend on nerve alone. Bob determined to stay and explore anyway. He walked around the stupa, drawing the pick from his belt. He was looking for its small crypt door, generally marked by a large round moonstone set in the flagging on the east side of the Ceylon and Indian stupas. This one was old enough to have such a stone, although never found in the more modern Bur mese pagodas. Under that stone would be the entrance to the crypt. And here was another print, in dry red laterite dust this time, the hobnailed print of a small hunting-boot. The major’s. Somehow it cheered up Bob immensely, one human being that had been here before in all this wild and teeming jungle. The major had not been in the least worried, either, for an arrow scratched on the sfvpa and pointing downward told that he had done some hasty exploring here, entirely unconcerned with possible tigers, and had marked some important point. Bob, still more bucked-up, attacked with his pick the mass of hard plaster and broken brick which covered the base of the stupa under the arrow. It was almost as if the major was pressing, telling him “Dig here!” and the youth went at it confidently, relying on the man’s sure knowledge of the ways of Buddhist relics. Gradually the flat blade of the pick cleared away a considerable pile of rubbish. Markings of a round carved stone creased with dirt came to view as Bob dug down in breathless excitement. Clearing away more brick and mor- tar, the ancient round moonstone set in the flagging was ex- posed. Bob sat down in the shade on the north side of the stupa, studying that stone and how to raise it. A mere crack, filled solid with hard red dust. The pick point had failed to budge it and was too blunt to make more than a deep crease around its edge. The only thing left was slow cleaning out of the crack with his hunting knife. Better have lunch now and wait for the shade to creep around, he decided, for to work at that crack in the broiling sun would be mere foolhardiness. Might be time enough to finish it and yet get back home before nightfall, he hoped. How were these moonstones originally raised? Bob asked himself, as he munched the sandwiches and small Bur- mese cakes put up for him. The clew to that would give him the easiest way to raise this stone. He was so interested now fr” Royal seemed to leap at least twenty feet up into the air * manhole gaped before him. 17 that he went on clearing away around the rim with one hand while the other held a sandwich with a huge bite gouged out of one side. Two small flat dents filled with dust on opposite sides of the stone were discovered after further scrutiny, and they were obviously for the purpose of letting down hooks into them. Bob at once set to work digging them out, and then clearing the crack each way, for he had no time to lose if he was to accomplish anything and get home that night before the great cats would be out hunting. In an hour the entire rim of the moonstone, which was perhaps two feet in diameter, stood free. To make a pair of hooks of any- thing he had with him was out of the question, but he found that by driving the pick-point into one recess he could raise that edge an inch. Pushing the hard-nosed point of a cartridge bullet into the crack held the stone from sinking back, he discovered after some trial. Then the opposite side could be raised. Gradually, inch by inch, the stone rose, Bob’s heart beating fast with excitement. He was without doubt the first. man in centuries to raise that stone!. A final and vigorous heave top- pled the stone over, and a round black hole not larger than a Bob peered down into the dark A faint odor of frankincense came up from the crypt There were seven narrow steps leading‘down. Bob twisted a torch of dry grass, lit it, and descended, listening carefully for the warning hiss of cobras. Then he stood in a small brick crypt, dry as dust, tight as a well. No snakes:had ever come in here, for there’ were no drain holes, no fissures in the masonry. His eyes fastened on a carved marble shrine against the west wall, lit up fitfully by his torch. Something gleamed there; a small jade Buddha, not two feet high, yet who was so lifelike as to be almost startling. Brown tourmaline eyes gleamed at him, human eyes, so exactly cut with iris and pupil as to appear alive. Bob held the torch over near it, scarce able to believe that those eyes were a kind of jewel. And then, let into a kind of recess in the Buddka’s lap, he discovered a small ivory box, exquisitely carved and fretted as the finest lace. “Gorry!” he ejaculated, breathless, ‘‘s-some find!” He was afraid to touch the box. One never knew what in- fernal contrivance was concealed in these Buddhas to slay the sacrilegious hand that would dare touch a relic. Bob climbed out to make another torch and think it over. The ivory box contained a relic. That was obvious, for its cover and sides were of intricate fretwork, cut through to pass air currents as would the finest lace. It was of exquisite design. Must have taken years of a craftman’s art to make. Bob felt that he did not want to remove the fragile thing. To what end? To make an ornament in the white man’s house of a sacred relic of a great religion, venerable when our own ancestors were digging roots in the British forests—the whole idea was distasteful to him. He hoped that his father would consent to their leaving this stupa intact, just as it now was. What right had we to place in museums as “curiosities” the sacred objects of a great and very much alive religion? Bob was about to return for another look at the relic when the call of a kite arrested him. Another took it up; then another, shrill and alarmed. Minah thrushes gave out almost human calls of anger and fear throughout all the ravine. Indian crows clamored and shrieked; all the bird world was in an up- roar throughout the valley. A sambhur deer barked and clat- tered madly along the opposite flanks. The lizards suddenly ceased their insist- , ent She-kak! She- kak! Bob seized his rifle and cautiously lowered himself into the crypt well until just his head appeared above the crater of rubbish around it. He was jungle-wise enough to know that this disturbance among the lesser jungle folk portended the arri- val of one of the great cats, whether tiger or leopard he could not guess. The shade ren- dered his topee un- (Concluded on page 41) depths. below.

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AO ILVERWARE clat- tered noisily in the little room between the kitchen and the dining room of the Amidon Club. Here, between meals, the dishes were stacked in clean, glistening rows and piles, and here, also between meals, big Carry Martin washed, wiped and polished the aforesaid dishes till they shone. This for the privilege, during meals, of being allowed to stuff himself to the bursting point. Just now he was contemplating somewhat moodily the knives, forks and spoons. Carry was talking, apparently to himself, for there was no one else in the room, though an occasional mumble from the other side of the swinging door indicated a possible listener. “So I says,” grumbled Carry, who for all his girlish name was very much a boy, and a good chunk of a one at that. “So I says to him: ‘The reason you don’t take me on any trips is because some of the fellows have kicked. I’m not blind, deaf and dumb. I’m not ashamed because I earn my board washing dishes for the Amids, but I know some of the swells on the team are ashamed for me. Maybe the team does need me on the home floor—’ Oh, I rubbed that in good and strong, Miss Lois— but I sure does need my grub regular too.’ So I haven’t been out to practice since.” Miss Lois put her head through the swinging door. “ You’re not going to quit basket ball!” she exclaimed incredulously. “No, not going to. I’ve done quit a’ready. I tell you, Miss Lois, I’m afraid I made a mistake in coming to Hallam. It’s too small a college, and too—too snobbish. Too many rich men’s sons come here. If you want to work your way through school you ought to go to a bigger place where it’s more demo- cratic. Here you’re ‘outside’ of too many things.” “T don’t believe it makes much difference about that—the size of the school, I mean.” “Sure not; the more students, the more snobs—it goes by proportion, I s’pose. But the idea is that there’s more of you who are ‘outside,’ and so you get together, all the outsiders, and there’s so many of them they pretty near forget they’re outside at all.” “Hm. But what will Coach Snell do without his star basket shooter?” “Same as he does now on his trips. Play Harris. Harris is a good man-—when he gets hold of the ball. If he’d just mix into the game more he’d be a crackerjack.” “What Harris is that? The banker’s son?” **Banker’s son—huh! That’s rich. I guess his father could own a dozen banks if he wanted to, but he’d rather make mor money in the patent medicine business 4 “Our husky dishwasher is some- what in the way of being a bit of a snob himself,” observed Miss Lois dryly, but with the hint of a smile in her eyes. “Absopositivilutely,” Carry. “You've got to be in a place like this or they’d kill all your self-respect. When the fel lows asked why I’d quit coming out I told ’em it was because | didn’t like a couple on the squad— and that was the truth. that’s the last spoon I'll have to wipe for a whok live hours. I always ligure that when the ylasses and silverware are out of the way, I’m over half through. I can do the big things in jig time.” agreed There, town, ALLAM was an aristocratic little suburban divided sharply into two classes: those who kept students and those who had an income. To be sure, there were a few others, tradesmen, laborers and such, but they did not count in the social scheme. The school was small, less than five hundred students, and democratic enough in that it recog- nized no social classes. Unfortunately, that did not help Carry and his kind—they numbered less than a dozen; so far as the rest were concerned this dozen simply did not exist. It was as Carry had said, no place for a poor man’s son. Clothes, spending money, a knowledge of social forms—these were as necessary as air to breathe. And of these Carry had only the last named. Well bred he was. His father, a teacher in high school, came of good stock; his mother was a real gentlewoman, and she had passed umber By George Madison Illustrated by Wm. C. McNulty =) 7 € on to the boy an apprecia- tion of the niceties of life. But the father’s salary was already strained to the breaking point to take care of his family, and Carry knew that if he wanted further education it was up to him to finance it himself. And that, the part he had dreaded the most, was, he found, the easiest end of the game. The first year, it is true, doing odd jobs after school, clerking in a store Saturdays, had been rather hard on his healthy appetite, but he had managed to pay his way through and have enough left for railroad fare back home. This year, thanks to a desire to get back into athletics, and a realization that all work and no play makes Jack a lonely boy even if it doesn’t make him a dull one, he had changed his plans. During the summer he had saved up enough money for books and clothing. If he could just earn his board and lodging, that would take care of him. Washing dishes for the \midon Club had struck him as the easiest way. Three hours a day—hardly more than most fellows spent at their meals anyway. O HE had gone in for basket ball, his favorite sport in high school days. He was a heady player, a good shot at the bas ket, good at carrying the ball down the floor; it was not long be fore he had attracted the attention of Coach Snell. Four games of the twelve game schedule had been played, two of them on , the home floor, and in these two Carry had played. When the first game away from home, an overnight trip, had been played without him, he had thought nothing of it. He was a new man on the squad, while Harris had been a sub last year and had real ability. Even the second game—after Harris’s poor showing, time and again shooting for the basket when the captain’s frantic signals called for a dribble—had not im- pressed Carry with any sense of unfairness until a chance remark of Lindholm, the other forward, gave him an inkling of the truth. He and Slim Harder, the six-foot center, were talking as they walked out of the darkened gym. “As a basket-ball player,” observed Lindholm, “ Harris is a darn good dishwasher.” “Forget it,” advised Slim. ‘“‘That bunch at Chester are rotters, every one of them. That certainly was a shabby trick they pulled. I don’t like Martin any better than you do, but I’m glad he wasn’t there, just the same. Somebody here must have tipped them off—some of them ate with the Amids when Chester played here, and they may have got wise to Martin then. The fellows who actually pulled the measly gag prob- ably’d never seen him and didn’t know Martin wasn’t playing in the return game.” Harris was in the thick of the fight most of the time “Neyer heard such a clatter in my life; no wonder Ha.ris missed the shot when that dishpan full of alley china crashed down back of the grandstand. Zowie!” That was enough to make the listening Carry go hot and cold by turns, but his mortification turned to boil- ing rage at Lindy’s last remark as they passed out of sarshot: “Tf he goes on any trips they can count me out. I don’t want any broken china bounced off my dome. Once a thing like that gets out it spreads like wildfire. I’ve got nothing against the fellow personally, if he does dress like back of the brickyard, but he queers the whole bunch from any swell invites. And he smells like a laundry all the time, with that strong soap. He sat next to me in trig till I got the prof to let me change. Pow!” Now as Carry strode off down the street, cheerful enough in BOYS’ LIFE “So I says,’ grumbled Carr spite of the bitter thoughts still rankling in the back of his mind, he caught up with Professor Bryson of the philosophy department, his favorite in all the faculty. Bryson had a way of looking at things that often gave a fellow a new slant on life. And he had a way of offering advice that sounded like some- thing else, and just when it was most needed—and he never resented it when the advice was not followed. “Hello-o, Carry,” he greeted. “Just thinking about you as I walked down the street, and wishing that you’d drop in for one of those famous old chats of ours.” “Vou figure I’ve gone about as long as I can without lecturing?” “Hardly that. athletics.”’ Sorry to hear you’d decided to drop “You been talking with Snell? Oh, it was all right for him to tell you. I was just wondering if you knew why I dropped out.” ‘“Tsn’t that common campus gossip?” “T hope not. Coach Snell is no sieve.” “Hardly. Well, I don’t know that I blame you. Unfortunately, these bumps come to a fellow before he’s really old enough to know how to handle them best. A fellow has to ex- periment, I suppose.” “You figure then that IT took this—this bump wrong?” “T’d hardly put it that strong. Let’s say that you'll probably han dle the next one different ly.” “There was just one way it could be handled.” “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. There are always at least three ways of meeting any- thing. You can back up, hold tight or push ahead. You backed up this time. Next time you’ll try standing pat. Then, when you really get your bearings, you’ll push the obstruction from your path and go right ahead.” “Huh.” ““How—how general do you think this—this feeling you complain of, is? Just amongst the players, or do you suppose the rest of the students——” “T don’t know. Those two are the only ones I ever heard. But then I don’t rub against the rest of the fellows in quite the same way. I don’t know.” “Why don’t you find out?” “How?” “Force the issue—and then face it. Get back into the game; nobody ever gained anything by being afraid to find out the truth. You're a valuable player; Snell just told me so. He wants you back. Tell him you’ll come back on condition that he takes you along on trips. Of course he might refuse; maybe March

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AR er te a FOR ALL BOYS the others, the two or more, have got him bluffed. All right, if he does refuse, then you can quit the team like a victor.” “But he’s already refused.” “There you do Mr. Snell an injustice. He didn’t refuse. He simply failed to take you along for two games where he figured he didn’t need you, and where he’d have a chance to study Harris 4 “Ts that what he told you to tell me? It’s too thin. You’re a good teacher of philosophy, Professor Bryson, but basket ball doesn’t always follow the rules of logic. He could still have studied Harris if he’d taken me along as a substitute, to use if Harris blew up—which he did.” “Oh, dear,” said Bryson, in pretended consternation. “T told Snell you’d see that. But that doesn’t alter the other facts in the case, you young anti-logician.” “Fellows, I almost did a cowardly thing. I overheard a con- versation a few days ago, and it hurt my feelings so hard that I quit cold. Seems that some of our bunch don’t like the flavor of the soap the Amidon Club furnishes me to wash their dishes in. I’ve an idea maybe that they think I graft some of it to take home for my bath too. I’ve grown so fond of the laun- dry perfume. Anyway, they insist that if Coach Snell forces ‘Soapy Carry’s’ company on them when the team takes a trip, why then the team will be forced to bow down in defeat, “ unaided as it will be by their prowess. In plain words, fellows, if I go, they won’t. At first, rather than have the team lose such valuable material, I decided to drop out. But I’ve taken time to think the matter over more carefully, and I’ve finally concluded that no team would be worse off for the loss of “The main fact, as I see it, aside from the mainest fact, which is that we’re both overdue in the classroom, is that Mr. Snell wants me to come back on the team. All right, I’ll study the rest of it out, but you can tell him I’ll put on my suit this afternoon as usual. Or, no, don’t tell him anything. T’ll have a talk with him myself.” “Going to try plan number three first, eh?” “T don’t know what number it is, but you'll be satisfied before I get through that I’m neither backing up nor standing pat.” a “BE SURE you are right, then go ahead” is a saying known to nearly every boy, but probably few can tell who is responsible for it. The motto was David Crockett’s, the American pioneer who was killed in the Battle of the Alamo on March 6, 1836, during the war for Texan independence. HAT afternoon a sudden cheer from the seats at the west side of the gym, where a few loyal rooters always watched practice, announced that the return to the game of Carry was welcome to at least a few. Most of the players, regulars and subs, came over to greet him, Harris among the rest. Slim Harder and Sig Lindholm were up under the north basket, much engaged in conversation with ‘Larry Klost, a guard. Carry knew that the three had seen him come in, so he had a feeling that they were against him; the hearty reception he had met gave him hope that they were all. “Come on, fellows,” he said to those who stood about him. “Let’s go over to where Lindy and Slim are. I’ve an announce- ment to make, and I want the whole bunch in on it.” As the little knot of twelve stood under the basket, Carry in the middle, he began, in low, even tones that did not carry outside the group, yet every word was distinct. Claickens CHAPTER V ALPH WYATT came up the piazza steps the next evening, just as the stockholders had settled them- selves to wait for the banker. “No balance sheet!” cried Jack by way of wel- come. ‘‘No balance sheet at all! What a Treasurer!”’ “Have your laugh all out, Mr. Secretary,” replied the Treasurer, “and then come and sit down at my feet and I’ll teach you how to make out a balance sheet and an income account—that is, if your head isn’t too thick.” “Who showed you?” “Father showed me. He said he wouldn’t have a son who couldn’t make out an income account and a balance sheet. Think you can understand it, Jack? Pretty deep stuff and there are a lot of hard words in it.” “Go on,” growled Jack. “Well, first I am going to start you on an income account, because it’s easier; and then if you really show signs of in- telligence, I’ll work you up gradually to a balance sheet. (Anything you don’t understand, Jack, you just ask me.) Now let’s suppose that our company found at the end of the year that it had earned two thousand dollars after all running expenses had been paid.” “Don’t understand it,” Jack interrupted gleefully, “don’t understand how our company could earn two thousand dollars a year. Please explain.” “Very well, then some other company made it. It was the let’s see, yes, the Patent Peanut Company of Peoria.” Ralph was beginning to enjoy himself hugely. “First of all, out of this net income, as father calls it, of the Patent Peanut Company we have to deduct what father always refers to as ‘the fixed charges’, that is, the money that the company has bound itself to pay, as for example the interest on its bonds. Well, it appears, Jack, that this company has just ten thou- sand dollars worth of bonds at six per cent, making a fixed charge of six hundred dollars a year.” “The boy’s mad,” murmured Jack, shaking his head sadly. “Nice fellow, too.” “So we subtract six’ hundred dollars from the two thousand dollars leaving fourteen hundred dollars. Next we set aside or ‘write off? two hundred and fifty dollars for depreciation of plant which leaves us eleven hundred and fifty dollars. From that again we subtract one hundred and fifty dollars for the sinking fund, leaving us an even thousand dollars.” “What’s a sinking fund?” demanded Jack. “The only sinking fund that I know is the money in my pocket.” Ralph looked doubtfully at Judge Thornton. “It’s 1924 players so small as that. So I’m back in the game—to stay.” And he stuck out his chin and looked Slim and Sig, first one, then the other, straight in the eyes as he said it. There was an uncomfortable pause, broken, fortunately, by the arrival of Coach Snell. He spotted Carry at once. “Hello, Martin; glad to see you out—hope you’re feeling better again.” “’Sall right; the fellows know why I dropped out—and why I’m back. We just had a little heart to heart talk.” “That so?” pleasantly. “Well, let’s get to work then. We’ve got a stiff game on with Wesley Friday week, and we need all the practice we can get. They’ve got a four-man offence that nobody’s been able to crack yet, and they’ve met the pick of the Association.” “Four-man offense—say, Coach, I know the trick that'll and Vege By Samuel Emery Illustrated by H. J. Peck rather a long story, sir, and I hate to stop right in the middle.” : “Quite right,” replied the Judge, “Jack, we’ll go into the sinking fund question a little later, but we won’t stop now for fear of interrupting Ralph’s train of thought.” “Fair enough,” said Jack. “Ralph’s train of thought goes off the track at the least thing.” “So the trading profit of two thousand dollars,’ Ralph con- tinued, “isn’t all ‘velvet’, but it does leave something to distribute to the patient stockholders; and now, Jack, you will be pleased to hear that the Patent Peanut Company of Peoria declares a dividend of five per cent, which on a capital stock of fifteen thousand dollars is seven hundred and fifty dollars, leaving a balance when that sum is deducted from the thousand dollars of two hundred and fifty dollars which we call surplus, and which we add to the various other surplus payments in the past, all of which you will see presently when we get to the balance sheet. But just now we’re more interested in the income account, and this is the way it looks:— PATENT PEANUT COMPANY OF PEORIA Income Account Net earnings. .$2,000 ~=‘Fixed charges..... $600 Depreciation of plant. 250 Sinking fund....... 150 i. ee 750 UI ise a dace toes 250 $2,000 $2,000 Pie you understand any of it, Jack?” “Dead easy,” retorted Jack. “Thought you said it was hard.” “Tt gets harder from now on. For the balance sheet you begin by putting all your assets on one side.” (Ralph took a piece of paper and made it out as he went along.) “By assets is meant all tools, materials, buildings and everything of that sort according to what it is worth in dollars; then all the total of the money that is being kept for depreciation of plant and the total of the sinking fund, then the money that is owed to Crockett—-commonly called ‘‘ Davy’’—was born in Tennessee in 1786, and for several years represented that State in Congress, where he was famous for his stories. But he is now best remem- bered as a striking figure in the early days on the western frontier, where his strength of mind and body were thrown into the development of that section of our country.— 19 spill that game in a jiff. Our coach at Rossville—did you ever know Charley Emms?” “Sure do, Carry. We learned our basket ball on the samc squad.” “Thought so. Then this one’ll be easy as pie for you, ’cause it’s just Sheldon’s old tandem-two play with a little fake in it. It goes like this.” And catching up a ball and lining out two teams, Carry demonstrated the trick. ‘‘All it takes,” he con cluded, “is two fast forwards who aren’t afraid to take a spill —” then he paused, conscious that his words sounded like criticism of Harris, who was afraid. “All right, men,’ commanded Coach Snell crisply, “‘let’s try it out. Harris, you and I will play forward on the blues; Carry and Lindholm shoot baskets for the reds. Harder, red, and Anderson, blue, centers. Lewis and Klost in your regular places. Lincoln and Stephens play guards for the blues. All right, blues, let’s see if they can break up our four-man offense!” HEY could and did. Though the blues knew the trick that was to be used against them, so speedy was Carry in his drift down the floor, so close was the play between him and Lindholm, that the four-man offence crumbled almost before it was started. “Of course,”’ said Coach Snell confidentially to Carry, “Carven, the fellow who plays left forward for Wesley, isn’t Harris, you know—he won’t dodge that rush of yours. But I’m satisfied that we'll get an even break, at that. Just one thing still worries me. Suppose they bring up their fifth man i “A five-man offense!” exclaimed Carry, his eyes shining. “Let ’em try it—if they’ve got the nerve. How about that stunt you showed us just before the Institute game? It’ll fit in like the ball in the basket!” After a good stiff work-out Coach Snell called them all up to the track for five fast laps, then to the showers and a rub- down. It was while under the shower that Carry found a chance to say to Harris: “Got anything on for to-night? Something I’d like to talk over with you if you could drop in-——say about eight.” “Sure, I'll come over. Be there at eight sharp—and break my record.” (Continued on page 30.) the company and the cash in the bank. If the company owns a valuable patent for making something or other it is put in at what it is supposed to be worth. This company, Jack, has a patent process for making peanuts, and we’re going to put it in with the other assets.” Jack tapped his forehead lightly with his finger but said nothing. “On the other side of the balance sheet are the liabilities; that is, what the company owes, and the first liability is the amount of the capital stock.” “Hold on,” cried Jack, ‘“we’re the company, aren’t we? How can we owe capital stock to ourselves?” Ralph turned to the Judge. “I asked Father that very question, and he said that you could explain that better than he could because you’re a lawyer.” The Judge thought for a moment. “It isn’t quite right, Jack,” he began, “to say that we are the company, for the company is a thing by itself which would still exist if all the officers and directors and stockholders were to die. We, for example, are directors and stockholders of our little company; but we are not the company. The law calls a corporation an ‘artificial person.’ Now to understand about those liabilities, let us ‘back into’ the question, as you would say, and see if we can’t make that matter a little clearer. On the balance sheet the real liabilities,—that is, the things the company must pay anyhow, just as I must pay my grocer,—are the things like bonded indebtedness, which, as you remember, represents money the company borrowed and solemnly promised to pay back, and the accounts payable for materials bought by the company but never paid for. Now, on the question of putting the capital stock among the liabilities, I have heard it said that this is done because the company owes the amount of its capital stock back to its stockholders, but that is a reason that I, personally, do not like. “The company does not really owe any money debt to its stockholders, yet a balance sheet is meant to show, among other things, just what would be left for the stockholders after all debts had been paid. When a company goes out of business that becomes a very important question, because after the items on the ‘asset’ side of the balance sheet have been turned into money which has been used as far as necessary to pay off items on the ‘liabilities’ side, why then what is left belongs to the stockholders. Now then, if the amount of money that is left to stockholders exceeds the par value of the stock—in ther words the price at which it was issued—then there is a surplus and the stockholders who bought the stock at the incorporation of the company and hold it’to the end get more than they paid for it. In other words, they ‘make a profit.’

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The night that the incubator arrived was a great ecca This profit, by the way, has nothing to do with the profit that is paid stockholders from time to time as dividends. If, on the other hand, the money paid back to stockholders is less than what was originally paid for the stock, then there is what is called a deficit, and the stockholders have to divide the loss just as they divided the profit. “So really if we subtracted the liabilities from the assets and called the result—‘ Amount that would be left for stock- holders after the company went out of business’ we would get the idea. But the accountant (a kind of bookkeeper) dearly loves his parallel columns that come out even at the bottom; and so he puts into his balance sheet ‘capital stock’ and ‘surplus’ on the liability side to represent what the com pany really would ‘owe’ if it went out of business.” Ralph, who had been working on his sheet of paper, now held it up. PATENT PEANUT COMPANY OF PEORIA BALANCE SHEET ASSETS: LIABILITIES Real estate, fac Capital stock $15 000 tory, Buildings Bonded debt 10,000 & Machinery $i0,000_~Cs: Bills & account Inventory 9,890 payable 1,305 Peanut patent 1,000 Depreciation of plant 3,900 Sinking fund in hands of trustee 1,800 Bills & accounts receivable. 575 . Cash Sco Surplus......... 1,660 Total... $27,065 Total.. $27,965 = O YOU see what I mean about the subtraction?” asked the Counsel. “Do you see that if you subtract the sum total of all the liabilities—except the: surplus—which is $26,305, from the sum total of all the assets, which is $27,965, you have left $1,660, which is the surplus. It is by doing just that subtraction, in fact, that the bookkeeper learns what his surplus is; but he puts it on the liabilities side so that the sum totals of each side shall agree. If they didn’t balance, it wouldn’t be a balance sheet, would it?” Ralph looked over at Jack. “I’m surprised you didn’t have a fit when you saw that new word ‘inventory,’” said he. “T’m having a fit!” cried Jack, waving his arms wildly in the air. “I’m having a fit! What is an inventory?” “An inventory is a valuation in dollars and cents of the goods which the company has on hand ready to sell, or ready to make and then sell; but it doesn’t include plant, tools, machinery or anything of that kind. If we were making an inventory of our company we would put the eggs in, but not the hen that laid the eggs unless she was young enough to eat. So long as she kept on laying she would be part of the plant.” “Good night!” broke in Jack. ‘“He’s off again. How could a bird be part of a plant?” ‘“*T was afraid that was a little bit over your head. Do you cn for the Community Service Corporation think you could ever get to understand it, Jack, if I worked nights with you after school?” “Why, Ralph,” retorted Jack grandly, “I could make out balance sheets like that all day long with my feet.” Judge Thornton reached over for Ralph’s balance sheet and wrote “Inc.” after the title of the company, making it read “Patent Peanut Company of Peoria, Inc.” ‘There, that looks better,” he remarked. Rob spoke up for the first time. ‘What is that for?” he asked. “That stands for ‘incorporated,’”’ replied his Father, “and you will sometimes see the word spelled out ‘incorporated,’ or even see it, ‘Patent Peanut Company of Peoria—a Cor- poration.’ To know what that all means you will have to understand the,difference between a simple partnership and a corporation. Let’s suppose that you and Jack and Ralph formed a simple partnership. You say to one another, ‘We'll go into business together and we'll divide the profits in such and such a way’; and then after the business gets going Ralph dies and Jack runs away with all the funds, that is, all the money in the treasury. You would be obliged by law to pay all the debts of the partnership even it it took every penny that you had Heed Peck cal Then and there Rob forgot all about his father’s advice. BOYS’ LIFE “On the other hand, if you three formed a corporation and took out a charter from the State and did all the customary things —I told you about that when we organ- ized—and then the others stole the funds, the only money that you would lose would be the money you had originally put in and no more. That’s one of the differ- ences between a simple partnership and a corporation. A number of States in this country have passed laws requiring all corporations which call themselves ‘Company’ in their titles to add the ‘Inc.’ to show that they are really in- corporated. In England they use ‘Limited’ in the name of a company to show that it is a corporation. ‘Limited’ simply means ‘Limited liability,’ since the liability of each stockholder is limited to his original investment.” “T don’t suppose,” said Jack mourn- fully, ‘‘that my poor friend Ralph Wyatt could ever get to understand that.” Ralph laughed triumphantly. “Father showed me last night,” said he. “Very well,” replied the Judge, “since you are all so clever let’s take up another question while we are waiting for Mr Wyatt. What is a bank?” “Place where they keep money,” re- sponded Jack instantly. The Judge smiled. ‘“That’s less than half what a bank is,” he said. “A bank is a place where they keep our money and lend it to other people.” “ HEN they lend our money,” asked Jack the practical, “how do they know that they are going to get it back again?” “Sometimes the bank lends on what is called ‘collateral,’ that is stock or bonds or something else of value which is held by the bank until the debt is paid. You remember that when the bank lent me money it held a mortgage on my house until the debt was paid. ‘Sometimes a bank even lends money without any collateral or security. Take this case for example: A big department store wants to buy a great many things for the Christmas trade, knowing that they can be sold very quickly. The store has plenty of money coming in later on; that is, there are people who owe the store money just as there are people who owe our little company money; but for the moment the department store hasn’t enough money to buy and pay for the Christmas presents that it wants to sell. So the president of the depart- ment store company goes to the bank with which he has been doing business for a long time and asks the head of the bank “Come March “he NEE RP a

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oe ad ~ ag: gg rm me mrp aan Bin FOR ALL BOYS to lend his company money enough to buy these articles for Christmas. “Then the banker does just what Mr. Wyatt did yesterday; he asks for a statement of the company’s business and if he finds that is satisfactory and if he knows that the president of the store is intelligent and honest—which is quite as im- portant as the state of the business—he lends the store money, our money which we have deposited in the bank, and then the store can buy what it needs for the Christmas business. “Well, the department store stocks up with our money which it has borrowed, sells its things at a profit and then repays the money, with interest, to the bank. The bank may pay interest on the money we leave there, although not all banks do; the department store pays a higher rate of interest on its loan, and itself makes a still higher rate of profit on the sale of its goods. That is what is called doing business on credit.” “Yes,” cried Jack eagerly, “but suppose you wanted to draw your money out of the bank while it was being lent to someone else,—what then?” “A very good question, and the answer is that the state banking laws compel the bank to keep enough money on hand at all times, so that depositors are protected. Of course if all the depositors were to be foolish enough to want their money at once, producing what is called a ‘run on the bank’, why the bank simply would stop business—close its doors as we say— until it could call back the money that had been loaned. The government is just as inquisitive about a bank’s affairs as the banker is about ours. Speaking of bankers, here comes Mr. Wyatt.” Jack turned quickly to Ralph. “If you can’t get all that,” he whispered, “T’ll get little Elsie to take her dolls over to your house and play bank until you do get it.” Mr. Wyatt came up on the piazza and seated himself. “Gentlemen,” said he, “I have been over your property to- day in company with William, who assures me that hens lay like the dickens and vegetables grow even faster than that. I am now ready therefore to underwrite your whole issue of six per cent bonds at ninety-seven, and shall put them on the market at a hundred, leaving me a profit of three points. I shall, of course, expect you to satisfy me as to the amortiza- tion and—” “Oh my,” wailed Jack, “that’s a dreadful word!” “Amortization?” queried the banker blandly. “Is that a hard word? Young man, don’t you amortize your debts?” “You mean,” asked Jack, “do I pay my grandmother back when she lends me money?” ME: WYATT permitted himself to smile slightly. “Of 4 course that is one way to put it,” he admitted, “but I think I can state it better than that. Now let’s suppose, for example, that you’re a bank and I’m a railroad, and I want you to underwrite an issue of bonds for me. (To underwrite simply means that the banker promises to sell the bonds or to buy them himself.) All right, you’re a bank and I’m a rail- road; that’s clear, isn’t it? Of course if you lend me money you want to be sure that you’ll get your money back, so you say to me—‘Look here, Mr. Railroad, you’re going to spend all that money on tracks and cars and locomotives so that when the time comes to repay the loan you won’t have any money—nothing but tracks and cars and locomotives, and I don’t want those. I don’t see any way I could use a locomotive at present. How about it?’ Then I say, ‘Calm yourself, Mr. Bank, calm yourself. You needn’t lose any sleep over that. I’ll agree to set aside a certain amount of money every six months, so that when the time comes to pay off your old loan the money that I have been putting aside, together with the interest on it, will just make up the amount that I owe you and you won’t have to sit up nights worrying about tracks and cars and locomotives’.” “Why, that’s what we do with our fund for depreciation of plant,” cried Jack, seeing a great light. “The difference between your fund for depreciation of plant and this amortization fund, which is called a sinking fund, is—” “Oh,” interrupted Jack, “so that’s a sinking fund.” “Yes,” continued the banker, “that’s a sinking fund, and that you place in the hands of a man, or a banking institu- tion, called a trustee, who holds this money so that the bondholders may know that the bonds will be met when the * time comes; whereas the depreciation fund stays in your own possession so that you can do what you like with it. Under- stand it now?” “Yes, I think so,” said Jack, drawing a long breath. “Then I don’t amortize my debts to my grandmother.” “You should,” admonished Mr. Wyatt gravely, although his eyes twinkled, “you certainly should do it. Now, Mr. Presi- dent, let me suggest that when you hold meetings to consider dividends, you set aside first sufficient money for the sinking fund and for the interest on the bonds, then funds for the depreciation of plant—and remember to set aside a larger depreciation fund after you buy your incubator since you then will have a larger plant—and then if there is anything left you can declare a dividend, but make your dividend small enough to leave a respectable surplus.” Jack’s face was a study. “I told you, Jack,” his father reminded him, “that borrowing money was a very serious business indeed.” « “The only thing remaining now, Mr. President,” continued the banker, “‘is to decide upon the trustee, and also how long these bonds are to run.” Rob looked puzzled. “I’m not sure that we shall be able to set aside enough money each month to amortize this debt, for we may have to stop business in the fall when High School opens.” Uncle Warren stood up. “Mr. Banker,” said he formally, “T will personally guarantee the principal and interest of this loan, if you will permit me.” Mr. Wyatt bowed, “I accept with pleasure, Mr. Thornton,” he replied, “you offer to guarantee the principal and interest of this loan, and I shall not therefore insist that your company start a sinking fund, but I would suggest that you do so for your own protection. The necessary documents and the money will be sent over in the morning, and if any of you gentlemen desire to buy bonds I shall be glad to sell them to you at a hundred. Good evening.” . When Mr. Wyatt and Ralph had gone, Jack burst out, “Do you mean to say that we have to pay a hundred for our own _—on,” he shouted, waving his club. “Chargel’ 1024 21 bonds when the company only gets ninety-seven for them? Why he makes three points on each bond. Gee, what a robber!” “Not at all, ” explained Uncle Warren, “that is entirely customary. The banker has to be paid for his trouble and the risk he runs. He is perfectly right in making a profit.” “Who do you think is going to buy his old bonds?” Jack growled. : “T am,” declared William, breaking silence for the first time that evening. “I am going to buy some of his old bonds.” “Well, I suppose it’s all right,” admitted Jack lamely, “but, Gee! What a fuss over a few broilers!” CHAPTER VI HE NIGHT that the incubator arrived was a great occasion for the Community Service Corporation, and all the stockholders gathered to see it unpacked and set up. With them as general assistant was Larry Doyle, one of the swampers whom Rob had asked to stay and help him. Larry was a thin, undersized boy, with big eyes and a mop of carroty red hair, who looked as if he never had quite enough to eat. When the process of unpacking disclosed an incubator, Larry drew in his breath with a gasp of joy. “Oh, boy!” he cried, ‘‘you’ve got an incubator! Oh, boy!” “Why, do you know anything about incubators and hatch- ing chickens, Larry?” asked Rob. “T love ’em,” said Larry, twisting his thin fingers together in a kind of ecstasy. ‘‘T was on a farm once, Boss, and I used to take care of "em. You got to give ’em just enough water in the sand box, and you got to keep ’em at a temperature of 1o1 4 the first week, 102 the second and 103 the third week, and you got to turn ’em over twice a day very easy —not with your fingers but with the palm of your hand like this illustrating— “‘and then when three weeks is up you got to stand by ’em and root for ’em hard.” “Why do you ‘root’ for them, Larry?” ‘*Cause it helps em to get out of the shell. You see the egg wobble and shake and then maybe the chick just pecks a little hole in the shell and then you got to begin to root for him. ‘Go ahead; that’s the stuff! Hit him again straight for the jaw. Now, one for the body—don’t be afraid of him; he ain’t got a thing. That’s it! Attaboy! Attaboy!’ Then he hears you and he fights and struggles and maybe stops to rest —it’s hard work—and finally he gets all out with bits of shell sticking to him and looks at you with those little eyes of his and says—‘How’s that?’” “Why Larry,” queried Mrs. Thornton, “where did you learn all that?” “T was on a farm once,” explained Larry wistfully, “but me aunt thought it was too lonely. Lonely, with all them chickens! Oh, boy!” “Very well,” said the President, “from now on, Larry, you’re the boss of this incubator. Nobody shall touch it but you; you’re the incubator foreman. Do you under- stand?” ‘Do you mean it, Boss??? Larry could hardly believe his ears. “Do you really mean it? Then will you please tell those kids out there not to be botherin? me at all at all?” Rob promised him that he would tell them, and was as good as his word. The swampers, however, had little or no time to bother with Larry for there was plenty for them to do every minute, and Rob watched them as a cat watches a mouse. One bright, hot morning the General Manager, browr and sturdy from his outdoor life, started forth on his regular morning’s tour of inspection. The swamp- ers eyed him with some apprehension for they had come to dread these daily investigations. Nothing escaped the notice of this tall young man with the glasses, neither dirt in the hen house, tools out of place nor anything else, for he had a keen eye for everything and if a weed so much as showed its head in the garden somebody had to suffer for it and everybody heard about it. On this occasion, however, he found nothing to criticize and, observing this, one ‘Tug’ Reagan, the chief of the swamp- ers, considered it a propitious time to open negotiations. “Hot,” said he ingratiatingly. “Yes, ’t is,’ agreed Rob. “Tell you it’s hot working out there in the sun.” “T suppose so. ’ “Too hot to work for ten cents an hour.” “How much do you want?” asked Rob, dazed by the suddenness of the attack. Tug braced himself and took a long breath. ‘‘ Twenty cents an hour.” (Continued on page 59)

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22 &< oO!” It was the great, full-throated voice of many men that sounded on the gentle air of the June.dawn, sounded like one man, this call of the ground'crew, two hundred and fifty of them, as their practised hands guided the warping of the great ZR-7o out of her hangar at Fieldhurst. ‘People don’t realize, Craig,’” I remarked as I contemplated the flight, “that if a straight line is drawn on the globe from Nome, or from Point Barrow, across the Pole, it will strike about Spitzbergen. Over the Pole is the shortest distance between London and Tokyo, five thousand miles against ten thousand, just half the distance the other way.” Kennedy nodded absently. ‘The thing I can’t forget, Walter, is that the line passes through the heart of the blind spot of the earth—the unexplored Arctic, nearer Alaska than the Pole.” * Yo-o-o!” lhe great silvered gas bag, or rather series of gas bags, was slowly beginning to poke her inquisitive nose further out of the gigantic doors. Kennedy, formerly of the Office of Naval Intelligence, the famous O. N. I., had been requested to go along on the polar flight in the new ZR-7o to protect it against threatened sabo tage from some traitor, someone believed to be in the pay of a rival foreign government. Perhaps this government feared it might lose something it hadn’t yet got in the northland. Anyhow, it was on a warning that much was at stake in the flight. 1 was along as an observer for a proposed semi-oflicial ‘Transpolar Air Service Company, Alaska to Norway and other countries. Our idea was to hop, say, from London to the southwest corner of Norway, along the coast to North Cape, then to Spitzbergen or Nova Zembla. On the other side of the Pole, the service was to go two ways, one down the American side of the Pacific to Vancouver and Seattle, the other down the Asiatic side, with a short water jump to Japan. Kennedy nodded again. ‘Yes. Look at a map with the Pole as its center and the equator as its circumference. The Arctic Ocean is one of the smallest. ‘The Arctic, between North America and Asia, is like the Mediterranean between Europe and Africa.” Though he did not seem to be doing anything much, Kennedy was watching acutely everyone we knew who was going on the voyage. This crew was a happy bunch, care free. Besides, for facing the perils, did they not get plus fifty per cent. of their pay for air service? Suddenly I heard a familiar voice, of a boy, and a thick guttural of a man, destined to become to me quite as familiar. It was Ken Adams, Craig’s fourteen year old nephew. “How did Ken get in?” I asked. Kennedy shrugged. ‘How could you keep that boy out?” * You could tell Ken was up to no mischief. Ken’s was the intelligent interest, the abounding curi- osity, the love of romantic adventure, the wild desire to explore parts unknown that has carried grown men over all the earth through the ages. He had been thrilled by this last lofty endeavor, this flight through the wild rushes of icy winds to the North Pole. Over by the high fence that enclosed the, field I had seen him many after noons, sauntering up and down by the big gates, keen for a glimpse of the active preparations within whenever the gates were opened. Men old in the service, trained and tried, had had a smile for the eager-eyed boy. They understood. Ken was dream ing dreams as they had done when they were boys. Ken would salute respectfully as they entered. Some of the men used to stop to speak to him, too. One by one he got acquainted with them all. Now I recognized the other voice. One of the crew of the ZR-10 had made fast strides in Ken’s friendship. It was Erik Haakon, a Norwegian, roughened by life When Ken took the drum and with a couple of sticks started to play there was conslernatio from his earliest years on the sea. Erik was rough in ex- ternals only. In character I believed him as pure as the ice of his own northland. His views on things were as refreshing as the salt breezes he had known most of his life “Ken, you boy, you—what now?” “I just came to say good-bye, Erik, not yet but before you get off. Are you going inside? Oh, let me go with you. [ll not touch anything. Just let me look.” Erik had been sent on some commission, had executed it. Now he had just a moment for his young friend in this field crowded by everyone who could get a permit to be present to say good-bye and witness the start. Erik answered with a rough, kindly laugh as he tapped Ken good-naturedly on the shoulder. ‘A bird, boy ain’t she a bird going north vith the rest of them in the spring!” Erik looked affectionately at the big airship as foot after foot of it came nosing out of the hangar. Ken seemed impatient not to miss anything. He‘did not even see us, so neal “Oh, Erik, I’d love to be going. I’m crazy about it!’’ There was a glint of humor in the eyes of Erik. ‘*Why’nt ye write and ask ’em?”’ “T did.”” Ken was reaching into his A™ poc ket for a much & read and rumpled letter. ‘* Here’s what I wrote.” Erik read it aloud to himself: Fieldhurst, N. J., April 1. Commander Hugh Scott, Fieldhurst Sta tion, N. J. Dear Sir: I have been reading the trip to the North Pole ot

about

BOYS’ LIFE

Illustrated mm _ by Fold Anderson a *

the ZR-70 and the continent of lost Vikings that they expect to find somewhere in the unknown Arctic area. I would like to go oa the trip with you. Can you take me? I am fourteen years old and in the Junior High School at Fieldhurst. I can get the consent of my parents whom you know. Yours truly Craig Kennedy Adams. Ken handed him the answer, read and re-read: THE ARMY AND NAVY CLUB New York Cit y Mr. Craig Kennedy Adams, Fieldhurst, N. J. Dear sir: I have taken pleasure in adding your name and application to join the Naval Polar Expedition to the official list of candi- dates. As this list already contains several thousand names, it will be some time before the committee can make a decision. Very truly yours, Hugh Scott, Commander, U. S. N. \pril 2. ‘“Yah?”’ queried Erik, handing back the letters. Ken looked at him wistfully. Erik was blond, big boned, with a certain amount of stolid dignity about him. “And they didn’t have room for me,” replied Ken, dejected, adding, a moment later, “ Erik, you must feel like the Vikings themselves when they sailed the unknown seas and settled ¥ Greenland, discovered America, over a thousand years ago. Think what this airship might do! Suppose you should find some of your own people!” *E-yah!” HEN I recalled scraps of conver- sations Ken had retailed, how Erik had told himofthe old homeland he had loved and had repeated the legends of the brave and power- ful Vikings until they had en- thralled the boy. I knew what was in Ken’s mind. “Mr. Jameson,” he had asked me only a couple of nights before, after dinner, “did you ever hear of the ‘Lost Vikings’?” I’ve read some of the sagas,’’ I had re- j lied, ‘‘the legends. There’s an old story, also, that’s a sort of classic, one of the seven original plots, I guess, the story of the ‘frozen pirate,’ in the ice, who came to life. A magician you admire made it into a picture, once. What do you mean, the ‘Lost Vikings’?” “Well, that’s what they call them. Only Erik says they didn’t get lost. We lost them. You know about Erik the Red?” “T’ve read about him,” I admitted, without further admit- ting that I had read it up for the purpose of my Transpolar mission. ‘Discovered Greenland in 985, then his son, Lief Icrikson, came to the United States about 1oo2. As I recall it, Erik came back with tales of grassy fjords, sunshiny days, plenty of fish and game up there. Then his son found our country and named it Vineland.” Ken nodded. ‘Well, it wasn’t long before those Vikings up in Greenland had a prosperous colony and made what were fortunes to them in ivory and oil. Now, Haakon says, the account of the last ship from the colony to Norway told of its rich cargo. That wasin 1410. But after that the plague broke out and wars swept Europe. Greenland was forgotten and the way to get there. It was the Dark Agés in Europe. Finally there were some Norsemen under Hans Egede who established the modern settlement there in 1721. The Vikings of three , March

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one PAs Cee ee FOR ALL BOYS hundred years before had disappeared. There were over ten thousand of them in i410 and in i721 not a Viking remained They found the stone ruins of their houses They’re there yet. ” ‘All dead; no children,” I agreed. “No!” asserted Ken vehemently. “Then where did they go?” “That’s the Viking mystery. Nobody knows “Maybe they went to sea and were lost.” “They couldn’t. They didn’t have any ships.” “Maybe they built some.” “There weren’t any trees.” ” A faint haze softened the outlines of the city below as we approached New York. O THOSE in’ the city the ‘distant drone of the ZR-zo motors must have given the call. Then above the Statue of Liberty they must have seen from downtown what looked through the haze for all the world like a gigantic silver cigar which grew in size until the great ship was revealed in its whole seven hundred feet, longer by some twenty feet than the ZR-r. We made the turn around the Statue of Liberty, the six motors throttled down to less than half speed, ap moticyyt” Y/ J 4 L “Then,” I strove desperately, amazed at Ken’s information, “maybe the Eskimos killed them.” “No, no, Mr. Jameson,” he replied impatiently. “The Es‘i mos are a gentle people. ‘they wouldn’t kill anybody. but, listen. They told a tale of white men going north, suddenly, to a land the Eskimos were afraid togoto. They feared evil spirits They said the land was warm, that hunters found the fat caribou and musk ox. It was green all the year round. They even tried to tell of the route the white men took, in the direction of what the explorers now call the coastal trail route, north Erik told me all about it. Think of maybe finding the descend ants of these people, Mr. Jame son, to be the first from the out side world to reach them!” REMEMBERED how Ken had looked off into the night sky, the light of inspiration, of resolve in his big blue eyes. I re membered it and thought what a man among men that boy would be. Jones, another member of the crew, passed and nodded to Ken. Jones, among other things, had charge of parachutes. Then passed Tighe, the grim joker of the outfit, and Rothen. They paused a moment. “Turned down, eh?—along with about fifty thousand others,” re- marked Rothen unfeelingly. “Hard luck!” “Well!” exclaimed Tighe. “We're carrying a bag of letters to Santa Claus at the Pole—at a dollar a letter! You don’t sup- pose we’re going to carry all the kids up to see him, too, do you?” Ken was abashed, but said nothing. Erik was not for spending his leisure minutes in footless good-bys. He started toward the interior of the hangar for his next orders. Some- thing had stopped temporarily the nosing out of the big ZR-10. “Now, Erik, may I go in, with you? keep out of the way.” Erik looked around, sharply, put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, leaned over, talking earnestly to him, as if that very intimacy might be his password to this aerial holy of holies. ZR-10 continued now slowly to nose out of her kennel. At last ZR-z0, “Star of the Skies,” was all out of the hangar, tugging at guy ropes while the ground crew ran about execut ing frantic orders to those -holding her down. There was the hurry and bustle and excitement of final good-bys. Rope ladders: dangled down from the cages. Men like monkeys were running along the crazily swaying footway from nose to rudder. Way up at the nose was one man. Another sud- denly seemed to appear from nowhere at the stern. Every- thing was ready for an early, sunrise start. She had not even been moored to the mooring mast. “All ready!” We looked for Ken. In the crowd surging forward, even in spite of the guards of the ground crew, we could not find him when we wanted him. The call was repeated. We had to miss saying good-by to Ken, although I knew that had been his excuse for getting in there. We could not wait to find him. Off at last! We saw the cheering, shouting crowd grow smaller, fade into pygmies, then into the green of the earth, finally disap- pear utterly in the haze and distance. Most striking to me was the feeling of stability and of the perfect control of the vast ship, thirty-seven tons, in spite of the light materials that entered into her construction. We were quickly getting accustomed to life in the air. 1924 I won’t meddle. I'll It was Erik. flag snapping proudly at the stern. Then we swept off majestically across the State of New Jersey, our silver-tinted dirigible in the sunlight an object of beauty. Tt was getting along after noon. In spite of cramped quar- ters we managed to have a ravenous appetite. We found that they were cooking over the exhaust of the engines. The chow was soup and bread, canned meats, hot coffee and fruit. A strange thing to me was that there was running water all over, piped from supply tanks. As I talked with the men, I speculated on their motives. ‘The commander was eager for the prestige a successful flight would bring to the Navy. Some saw fortunes, rewards from lecture tours, or perhaps knowledge for investments. Kennedy was silently studying the men on the expedition, making friends with everybody, and all seemed to like him. On we went, easily sailing. I gave myself up to the exhilara- tion of it. Suddenly we were startled. Was that a boy’s shrill cry of pain above the drone of the engines? “Hey, stop that! Please! You don’t have to try and kill afellow! Say! Ifound the leak! Please!” It was Ken’s voice. Ken had been discovered—a stowaway! “Tl throw you over—you little spy!” It was Rothen’s voice. ‘Tighe had seen Ken first, way up in the passages within the outer skin of duralamin that covered the interior gas bags. Rothen had Ken by the collar and was shaking him. Down the footway Commander Scott reached them. ‘““What’s this, Ken Adams? Why have you done this thing? ”? I'll have to stop at the next station and leave you! TERNLY the Commander spoke, and Ken flushed. He pulled himself up, with a sidelong glance of fresh terror at Rothen and Tighe. Then he faced the Commander and his shaking hand went up in salute. 23 Kennedy and I were silent. I could see that Craig was vexed at his young nephew, but thoroughly angry at Rothen. ‘“T didn’t have to show myself until it would have been too late to put me off,” cried Ken. ‘But I had to tell about that leak!’ He leaned forward in his eagerness. Was that a tiny spark of humor in the steel eyes of Commander Scott? Anderson spoke up. ‘The leak indicator shows a leak. We’ve been searching for it. We can’t afford to lose helium gas at this rate.”’ ‘*Show him where,”’ nodded the Commander. He started forward, hesitated, stopped Ken saluted and disappeared with Anderson. ‘Ken has done wrong, Commander,” put in Craig. I radio his mother?”’ ‘In a moment,” he nodded back. There was a buzz above the deafening drone of the en- gines. Then some of the men gathered as Anderson and Ken came back. ‘“Tt’s mighty fortunate the boy was there hiding and used his head, Commander,” reported Anderson. ‘‘It was worse than I thought. We might have been delayed some time, sir. I patched it. On the first leg we can make the repairs perma- nent.” Ken came shamefacedly over to his uncle. ‘“ Well, anyhow, you and the others can go on! The leak’s patched.” “Ken Adams, we stop at Dayton. I'll radio your folks.” It was Commander Scott. Pale now, but self-possessed, Ken straightened and saluted He would take his orders like a good scout. “Sir.” It was Anderson. ‘The men back here——’ The Commander looked at Anderson quietly, raised his hand for silence. He turned from the men to the boy. “Put him off? Not on your life! He came out of hiding voluntarily to tell us of a hole in the gas bag, helium escaping. No, sir, he is our mascot. I will ask Professor Kennedy to radio to your folks that you are safe, Ken, with us—and going on!” Ken’s face broke into a smile. There was something like a cheer from the men. It was then that I caught a surreptitious wink of Haakon’s blue eye in the covert direction of Ken. “Wonderful, isn’t it, Uncle Craig?” remarked Ken en- thusiastically, later. “Not like traveling on a train or in a car. No bumps or shocks.” Somewhat more than three days were consumed in crossing the United States. “May (Concluded on page 62)

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ROM nowhere in particular but accurately in the direct ion of a large garbage-can a_ bit of brick came flying. A hand, careless in most efforts but skilful in aim- ing, had sent it on its noisy mission. It reached its objective with a loud bang. \ boy reading the exciting details of a jewel robbery was seated com- fortably, though somewhat unhygienically, upon a discarded mattress behind the ash-can and out of view of the brick marksman. He had just reached the point in the newspaper report where detectives were sending bullets after fleeing robbers when the brick landed on his zinc back-rest. He was up on his feet in a flash and simultaneously with his jump a large gray cat streaked from the depths of the garbage-can. The boy was just a regular boy of the rough-and-tumble neighborhood, and his great out-of-door adventure ground was a large vacant lot, vacant except for the odds and ends of junk that usually find their way to such places. The cat was one of the many cats of the junk jungle, and where the boy hunted for fun the cat hunted for food. It had no regular sheltered home as had the boy, being suited with any kind of an old place that was sufficiently dry. It had a partiality for ash-cans, and if one happened to be knocked on its side so much the better. The boy was ‘‘ Bud”’ Rose and the cat was “‘Ash-Can Charley.” Nobody paid any particular attention to Charley except that once in a while he was considered by some unthinking youth to be rather a good moving target. The thrower of the brick was one of these mischievous youths and no sooner had the cat jumped from the can than another bit of brick shot through the air. The missile this time, hurriedly aimed, went wild as far as the cat was concerned but caught Bud Rose smack on his shin. Bud howled and looked savagely in the direction of the board fence from whence the missile came. Realizing that it would be useless to look for the thrower, who would, by this time, be fleeing with a scared conscience, Bud sat down to nurse his bruise. HARLEY escaping, as he usually did from things aimed at hia, was only momentarily frightened. He sat down a short distance from Bud and commenced to wash himself, keeping all the while a watchful eye on the boy, for might not another bit of brick come from his direction? Bud was in a sore and angry mood, and not having seen the thrower of course found fault with the innocent cat. “This was meant for you, Ash-Can,” he growled. “If you hadn't been around L wouldn't have gotten this.”’ Of course if \sh-Can Charley could reply, his comeback would probably have been, “If there weren't a lot of smart-Alec guys like you around, nobody ever would be hurt.” “You old cat,’’ snapped Bud, and then, as though he had gotten by mental telepathy what the cat might have said, his whole attitude toward Ash-Can Charley suddenly changed. ‘Poor old Charley,’’ he said, ‘“‘mebbe after all it was just both our lucks and you sure would have been a dead one if you had a’gotten it. Come here, old Ash-Can, come here.”’ He lay down in the hot sunshine on the mat tress and scratched it enticingly. Charley, who could tell an enemy through a bricl Charley gave a friendship high sign with his tail wall, was equally alert in recognizing a person kindly disposed. He first rolled over on his back then pushed side- ways against the remains of a baby carriage, and finally giving a friendship high-sign with his tail came cautiously over. Not all the way, however, for he again rolled in the dust when about half-way across. Bud’s scratching eventually brought Charley to the mat and it wasn’t long until the cat was curled up comfortably beside the boy, purring an accompaniment to Bud’s newspaper reading which a short while before had been so rudely in- terrupted. EXT morning as Bud was strolling down the street on his way to the lot he espied a gray furry tail sticking up out of a garbage-can, which he recognized as belonging to Charley. He tiptoed over and discovered the cat looking for his break- fast. ‘““Here’s something better than garbage hash,” said Bud, pulling from his pocket a bit of greasy paper containing a couple of chicken drum-sticks and a sliver of bacon. The cat, for the moment startled, jumped sideways in the can, but on recognizing Bud gave a litfle “murrur,’? which Bud correctly interpreted as “glad to see you.” Bud was about to reach over and give Charley something worth chewing on when he suddenly exclaimed, “Hello! what’s this?’”’ A bright object caught his eye and he dropped the tid- bits on the ground beside the can where Charley quickly found them. “Say! if it isn’t a shiner,” said Bud as he picked from the ashes a yellow metal ring which was ornamented with a large sparkling stone. “Thank you, Ash-Can,” he said, “I really didn’t mean for vou to pay for your breakfast, but if you insist—”’’ He put the ring on one of his fingers and admiringly held it up in the morning sunlight. The ring was a trifle too big for him, but that didn’t make any difference so long as it sparkled. \ few minutes of admiration sufficed Bud. Others must see and admire it. What good was a sparkler anyway if there weren’t lots of fellows around to see it and feel envious. “Wonder if it’s real gold and diamond,’’ thought Bud as he hurried back along the block to where he knew he would find Jack Maxwell. Jack was a scout patrol leader and he knew a lot of things. Perhaps he could tell the value of the sparkler. Bud met Jack, but the problem was beyond the scout. 1 large gray cat streaked from the depths of the garbage-can BOYS’ LIFE By Francis J. Rigney Illustrated by the Author “Tt would take an expert to tell,” said he “I could tell you,” he con- tinued, “ granite, conglom- crate, gneiss, shell marl, quartz, shale, or any such stones, but when it comes to the fancy ones I’m simply not there. Let’s ask Pop,” he concluded. Bud hesitated at this, for Jack’s father was a police detective and Bud always kept a long dis tance between himself and representatives of the police force. Curiosity, however, prevailed even though Bud foresaw the giving up of his find, that is ‘‘supposin’ it is a real one.” Mr. Maxwell was with the aid of an enlarging glass intently studying a piece of suiting when the boys came into the room. “Pop,” queried Jack, “is this the real goods?” as he held out Bud’s scrubby finger on which the ring sparkled. Mr. Maxwell slipped the ring off and put it under the glass. Examining it for a moment or so he suddenly exclaimed, “Wait a minute!” and from his vest pocket he pulled a small note-book and rapidly turned over the pages. “Tt sure is the goods, THE GOODS!” he emphasized, ‘“‘a part of the very goods I’m just now looking for. Where did you get it?” he quickly snapped, almost taking Bud’s breath away. “*T—] found it in a garbage-can,” stammered Bud. ‘“‘ J—J just down a couple o’ blocks.” “Come on quick, show me!” said Mr. Maxwell, grabbing his hat, and filling his pockets with odds and ends from his desk. Down the stairs the trio sped until they came to the hall door. The boys were about to burst out into the street, but were quickly called back by the detective. “We must avoid anything that will attract attention to us so we'll just stroll easily along. ‘‘ Your friend,” he said to Jack, “had better walk three or four yards straight ahead of me, for the people around here know that we don’t usually accompany each other, and somebody might be suspicious if that somebody saw us together just now. When you,” he continued, addressing Bud, ‘“‘come to the can in which you found the ring just give it a kick as you pass it by and continue walking down the street without looking around even once. Jack can follow at some distance behind on the opposite side of the street, and if he sees me push my hat back on my head he will know that I want him to beat it to the nearest station for help.” Down the street started Bud and the other two followed as arranged. On, sauntered the boy, slowly, on and on. “*A éouple of blocks,’”’ said Maxwell to himself, “‘ why this is the seventh block and there isn’t a can in sight. Two blocks more and we will be out in the lots. Wonder if it could be there they hid the stuff?”’ said Mr. Maxwell as Bud crossed the vacant ground toward a small hole in a high fence, a hole which was too small for the detective to crawl through and a fence over which he would find it difficult to climb. Mr. Max- well hurried forward a few paces and in a low but distinctly emphatic voice called after Bud. ‘Come back here, you, where are you bringing me?’’ Bud halted immediately but without turning around. Looking straight ahead he gritted between his teeth in true melo dramatic style, ‘the garbage men must have been around and the can emptied and taken in again. There wasn’t any can to kick.” ‘‘ Look here, Smartie,”’ — said the detective, ; “you’re not going to we get away with that kind of stuff. Tell meall you know about it or you'll find yourself in trouble. Why didn’t you let me know up the street? Turn around here and no more of that fooling.” ‘*I—I wasn’t fooling, honest I wasn’t,” said the scared Bud as he turned quickly around. ‘You said I was to go straight ahead and not to look around once, Sir, and you didn’t tell me what to do if there wasn’t any can, Sir.” By this time Scout Jack had arrived just as his father had started wiping the perspiration from his forehead, pushing back his hat to do so. “You want me to go for the police?” Jack wonder- ingly asked. “No!” thundered his father, and then the detective, realizing the humor of the situation, allowed his face to expand into a broad smile. “My mistake, boys, but we must hurry. Tell me,” he said to Bud, ‘“‘do you remember anything in particular about that can?” March

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aes oF ee FOR ALL BOYS “Not much,” replied Bud, ‘except that there was a big red ‘4’ painted on the side of it and a gray cat was in it.” “The ‘4’ is enough,”’ said Jack’s father, ‘and there isn’t any use taking the cat into account for a cat as a clue to an ash-can would lead to every can for miles around.” ‘But this cat is the one that found the ring,” persisted Bud, “we call him Ash-Can Charley.” S THOUGH in answer to his name Charley came through the hole in the fence. “This is him, look!” ungrammatically burst out the cat’s champion. ‘For the start he gave us on this case he was fine,”’ said the detective, “but I don’t see how he can help us any further.” ““Come on boys I’ve got to find that number ‘4’ can. You go ahead again,” he said, ‘‘and when you come to about where the can was you may stand for a couple of seconds.” Back they went in prescribed order except that there was a fourth member to the party in the person of Ash-Can Charley, who with tail high in the air trotted close alongside Bud’s feet. Back a half dozen blocks or so Bud halted at a basement entrance for a moment and then without looking around went on up to the next corner. When he reached this spot he sat down on the curb to play with the cat. To his surprise it had not come along. Ash-Can Charley on arriving at the point where Bud had first halted puts its nose to the ground where possibly its Bud recognized the tail as belonging to Charley sensitive little nostrils discovered a faint aroma of the now vanished chicken bones. It sniffed around awhile and forgot all about Bud. It went down the basement steps which led through a passage into the back yard. It wasn’t the smell of the bones that made the detective go down the steps: he went down because his keen eyes had noticed a number “‘4”’ on the door of the house to which the yard belonged, and he correctly guessed that the ash-can belonged there. Sure enough he found a can with a big red figure ‘‘4”’ painted on it, but he also found five similar cans each adorned with a big red “‘4.’’ Puzzled as to which was the object of his search he tip-toed over to examine. He did not want to make any disturbance that might bring inquisitive heads popping out of the back windows. It took great presence of mind on his part to resist making any kind of noise when Ash-Can Charley suddenly shot out of the first can he stooped over. Quickly recovering his poise he guessed that this must have been the can he sought. It was third in the row along by the wall. He turned around for a moment and looking back up the steps he saw that his son was watching him through the opening from across the street. He pushed his hat back and off Jack scooted to the station. Bud saw Jack fleeing down a side street and decided that it was time for him to get as near as possible to the field of action. Accordingly he hurried as fast as caution would allow him toward the entrance to the yard and reached there just in time to meet Charley coming up the steps. Charley gave him the excuse he needed to sit down where he could see things happen. IRST Mr. Maxwell knocked on the basement door that opened on the janitor’s apartments, and when that im- portant individual appeared Bud heard the detective ques- tion him. “Any regular order for keeping your garbage-cans?’’ the detective asked. ‘‘They just naturally keep themselves in order,” the janitor replied, “‘for I take them as they stand, roll them in and out the same way and fill them as they come along. I only use three of them, however, each of them being big enough to take care of two floors.’ “That third can there,” said the detective, “what two floors does it represent?” “The fifth and sixth, sir,’ was the answer. Mr. Maxwell continued his examination. “Which apartment do you handle last in connection with that particular can?” he queried. 1924 “Let me see,’’ said the janitor, “either of the two front on the fifth floor.” “This morning which?” The janitor thought a moment and said, “I believe it was the front right, a bachelor apartment.” ‘The tenants?” “Well, it’s rented to three men. They moved in last week.” ‘Are they home now?” went on Mr. Maxwell. “T guess so,’’ said the janitor, “‘they have some sort of gentlemen’s work in town, for they don’t usually go out until the early afternoon.”” A few more questions and Mr. Maxwell looked up the steps to see two plain-clothes men brushing past Bud and Charley. One held up two fingers and pointed back- ward over his shoulder with his thumb. This signal the detec- tive knew to mean that there were two more policemen across the street. After a hurried consultation Mr. Maxwell directed one of his helpers to go through the next house up to the flat roof and stay there to prevent exit from the house about to be raided. The second man was sent up the back fire-escape. Softly calling to Bud, who by this time was pop-eyed with excite- ment, Jack’s father requested him to notify the two extra men to enter the building by the front way and meet him on the fifth floor. Mr. Maxwell himself started up the back stairs, guided by the puzzled janitor. Bud Ross felt suddenly important in the part that he was playing and did not see why he should not follow on the heels of the two policemen who went in by the main entrance. Ash- Can Charley did not see why he shouldn’t be right at Bud’s heels, so all four went up the stairs. Jack Maxwell, however much he felt like joining in, knew that it was his duty to remain outside to ’phone for extra help if necessary. It was a surprised man that opened the front-right fifth floor apartment. He expected the gas man about that time, but never figured on three big burly men, the janitor, a boy and a cat. ; ‘“‘What’s the idea?” he bluffingly asked the janitor, ‘you know that the apartment is rented, so what’s the idea of showing it to these people?” ‘“‘We’re coming in to see the inside of your pockets,’ Mr. Maxwell. “This is an unwarranted outrage,’ shouted the man. “Not unwarranted,” corrected the detective. ‘I’ve got the warrant here,’ he continued as he took from his pocket a paper that one of the police had just brought him. Two other startled gentlemen blinking like owls appeared behind the man at the door. Though dressed in pajamas, each carried a gun. ‘Drop those toys!’”’ commanded one of the detectives while at the same time he pointed his own gun in their direction without taking it from his coat pocket. ‘We thought you were burglars,’ weakly explained one of the two as they let their guns fall to the floor. “Go back into the apartment,” Mr. Maxwell directed and then seeing Bud for the first time told him to get in the other detectives from the roof and fire-escape. Bud and the cat were not long in getting back again, Bud to stay in the hall and the cat to sniff its way inquisitively into the apartment. Bud would have liked to help in the search, but he was afraid that he might get in the way so he remained at the door an excited spectator. One detective kept the men covered in a corner while the other four and the janitor ex- plored the apartment. Bu- reau drawers were emptied of their contents and closets were ransacked. A piano was dragged out from its position and in spite of many un- harmonious protests on its part, its interior got a thor- ough overhauling. Nothing found there, Jack’s father and his husky helpers dismantled a number of imposingly stuffed chairs and a large divan and then turned their attention to the mattresses of the bed and to the pillows. Large quanti- ties of curled horse hair and chicken feathers were found but that was all. Cups, jugs, cans, bottles, and boxes came in for their share of inspec- tion, pictures were taken from the walls and_ their backs ripped out, carpets were removed and cracks in the floor were probed, the , said ” “It sure is the goods, THE GOODS!” 25 The detectives saw a cat industriously scraping ashes wainscoating was tapped all over and by the time the detec- tives were through with the water works there was a large sized job waiting for a lucky plumber. AFFLED and bewildered, Mr. Maxwell blusteringly ap- proached the suspected men. ‘Where did you put ’em? he bawled. ‘Put what?” coolly answered one of the pajama- clad individuals. “Come, come,” said the detective, “you know weil enough what I mean.” “T don’t know where whatever you are talking about was put but I know where I’ll put you when I see the proper au- thorities,”” snapped back the interrogated one. About one hour passed and not a single thing was found that answered the description of the missing jewels. The three gentlemen of leisure then grew sarcastic and made many scathing comments on the stupidity of detectives in general. “They'll pay for‘this mistake yet when I see my friend the commissioner,” said one of the trio as Mr. Maxwell was about to admit defeat. ‘‘Perhaps,” he thought to himself, “this has been a bad blunder on my part.” “Well, men,” he said. to his fellow officers, “I guess we are—’’ what he was about to say was cut short by a loud ex- cited call from Bud. “Look! Look!” he shouted as he pointed to the fire-place. Right in the grate the detectives saw a cat industriously scraping ashes and at each scrape a bright object was revealed. The pajama-clad men and their companions made a jump for the door but were quickly overpowered. “Tell the commissioner, will you?” said Mr. Maxwell as he fitted a piece of torn cloth, which he had been examining when the boys called on him that morning, intoa hole in the coat of the man who had opened’ the door. It fitted and matched! “Well boy,”’ he said, turning to Bud, “the honors go to you.” “TI guess,” said Bud, ‘‘the honors go to Ash-Can Charley.”

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ROBABLY as queer a shipment of perishable express as was ever received by the Champlain Transportation Company was a polar bear billed in from the Arctic. There was really no need, so far as quick transit was concerned, of sending him by express. No one would keep him on their hands longer than was absolutely necessary. His captors had not bothered to tame him before changing his residence. The result was an unholy desire to get loose and kill somebody. He would accept meat from his keeper, but, if actions were any indication, would far rather eat his keeper. In the end he all but succeeded. The Champlain Transportation Company operates steamers on Lake Champlain and Lake George. It was on the Ticonderoga, a Lake Champlain boat, that the creature was handled. He came off the train at Burlington, and was to be taken across to Plattsburg, en route for the famous Miner Estate at Chazy. When the freight rustlers, most of them young fellows, saw him, they threw up their hands, signifying that they had taken a crack at about everything and now the list was completed. \ polar bear was the last straw. He was in a cage, but he was also in a rage. Which would survive, the cage or the rage, was a question. It was the keeper who took charge. tb “Well, fellows,” he invited, “I reckon we've got to load him!” So they went at it. After all, it was a rather novel situation. Young blood answered the big bear’s challenge, and, as a crowd began to gather, they got busy. It was not only a weighty proposi- tion, but, despite the safeguards, a dangerous one as well. They got levers beneath the cage and then blocks. Meanwhile, it really seemed as though the animal would go insane. He roared and flung himself. The whole structure rocked at the impact of his open-mouthed plunges, and the terrible blows he dealt. The police had all they could do to keep back the growing cordon of spectators and give the workers room. From blocks they progressed to rollers. The bear did his best to reach them through the interstices of the bars, but, although there were plenty of narrow escapes, he never quite succeeded. With long poles they began to push the cage toward the gangway. It was when the) reached it that there was a little more excitement, but they finally got the rollers arranged right, and once more moved forward. The boat tipped a little as so much weight came upon it, but the slight incline was safely negotiated, and the cage at length placed on deck. It was then the turn of the automobiles, and the vessel was soon ready to cast off. \KE CHAMPLAIN lies between the Adiron- dack Mountains on the west and the Green Mountains on the east. It is over a hundred and twenty miles long, and when a strong wind comes sweeping down its valley, it can kick up a goodly sea. That was the way of it on this day. It was the fall of the year, and a north wind was blowing. The cage was up in the bow. In order to keep the boat balanced, it had been placed midway between the two sides, and its rollers blocked. Many persons were watching, but no one noticed anything out of the way with it. When the boat put in at Port Kent it was all right. On the way between Port Kent and Plattsburg things went wrong. The boat was headed straight into the waves, and rising and falling considerably to their buffeting. It was a movement that must gradually have weakened the blocks, and one of them finally gave way. “Look out! It’s going!” That, as the cage lurched and began to move, was the first warning. It might not have been the exact words, for there really were no words, but it was the meaning of the confused shout that went for words. Once started, the huge structure could not be stopped. It was too big and heavy and awkward. Three or four of the deck-hands were standing about, and they jumped to do what they could, but they could not do much. One of them, in his haste, almost forgot himself, but the big bear never. One swipe of the paw laid bare the man’s shirt, and took part of the skin of his back along with it. Faster went the runaway cage, and faster. They tried to re-block it, to hold it with the poles, hurriedly grabbed up, but it had a start and was too much for them. It had not far to go, and soon’ ¢iashed into the gunwale. The stout wood creaked and gave at the impact, but did not break. It was the cage that broke. “Look out! He’s loose!” Once more it was an inarticulate cry, conveying its meaning, but not in words. It had all happened so quickly that up to this time not many had moved. Now, however, they got into action. Men leaped from their cars, and the deck-hands ducked where they could, into any opening that suggested The bear was crased with wrath safety. Only one stood up to the emergency, and that was Roland Ross. Roland was a boy about seventeen years of age. He was on the boats because he must work at something, and liked them. If he had had his choice, he would have gotten an education, but that seemed impossible. -His money was not needed at home, but his people did not have much, and he had to support himself. He had been part way through high school, but then had to go out on his own. Whatever he did, however, he did well, as a boy of intelligence and ambi- tion, and he now fought back the bear. The cage was sturdy. Nothing in all its journey, not even the attacks of the irate beast within, had sufficed to stir its iron bars and joints, at least to a point where the defect would be noticed. But now, as will sometimes happen, it had struck just right and given way, one corner caving a little and spreading the adjacent bars, loosening them in their sockets. The bear, quick to take advantage of the opportunity, had thrust in a fore-paw and shoulder, and now with all his giant strength was seeking to squeeze through. The boy, with a long two-by-four joist, was striving to thrust him back. He used no gentleness at all, but leveled the thing like a battering ram, and jammed it into the beast. The force, it seemed, was enough to crush the animal’s ribs, but, though once or twice he flinched, he came back for more, - BOYS’ LIFE By Leon W. Dean t Illustrated by Morgan Stinemetz and it could not stop him. He was too angry to feel much pain, and his great body was almost invulnerable to any injury short of a rifle shot. “Help!” called the boy, in desperation. ‘“ Help!” E KNEW what it might well mean for the brute to get free among the passengers, but there seemed no one who wanted to share with him the risk. The bars, powerful as they were, now that they had started, were yielding more and more. They could not withstand the avalanche wedging itself between. them. The keeper and one or two of the boat’s officers, having got an inkling of what was going on, came running, but were too late. The bear burst through as they put in an appearance, and the boy himself had to make a quick dash for safety, the shoiits of the men augmenting it. “Beat it!” they cried. ‘He’s coming!” And coming he was. The boy, dropping his prod, was fast, but the bear, notwithstand- ing his immense size and apparent ungainliness, was faster. He was almost upon him as, ac- cepting about his only chance, the boy flung himself over the rail. He did not go into the lake, but, seizing a rope as the bear struck above him, hung on. The animal’s last lunge carried him almost off his feet, and laid him asprawl of the rail. A foot or two below him, with arms upstretched, dangled the boy. He was tempt- ingly near, and the bear was crazed with wrath. Without waiting to regain his balance, he reached down, swinging hard with his paw. For once he miscalculated, and top- pled. Unable to recover, he tumbled headlong for the lake, wrenching the boy from his hold as he swept down past. Even as they went, orders began to ring out. The boy, struggling in the water, could hear vaguely only. The boat forged by, all but engulfing him. Then he was being left astern. “All hands to the boats!” The captain may have arrived on the scene a little late to do anything, but he was making up for it. As by magic, men sprang into being. “Number Six! Stand by! Lower away!” One after the other, in quick staccato succession, the orders came, and the men, with a promptitude and cer- tainty that bespoke numerous rehearsals, responded. Number Six boat, which was a small one on the deck where the cage was, began to glide from the davits, and, as it went, its crew piled in. At the same time, to the sounding of gongs in the engine-room, the steamer was coming to ahalt. It lost headway, swinging off, and the boat struck the water with a splash. Almost at once the men had the oars and were pulling. Back several hundred yards Roland was having no easy. time of it. He could swim well, and was makng the most of his ability, but one arm had been somehow hurt as the bear hit him, and it handicapped him. Besides, the animal itself was near, and, after paddling aimlessly about for a while, as though confused, turned on him. Had there been shore near, it perhaps would have made for that, but there was not, and, the water of the steamer still tossing them, it resumed the assault. “Watch out!” called the helmsman of the small boat. “He’s after you!” ND then began a race such as the boy had never dreamed of. A polar bear is the most at home in the water of all four-footed animals. The boy struck out desperately for those rowing toward him, but it did not seem as though he could reach them. The white head of the bear slid through the water as though something inanimate, a relentless ma- chine, driven by a diabolical power beyond mere bone and muscle. The men, straining at the oars, sought to beat him, and so did the boy, but he gained fast, each instant lessening the distance. The boy, in spite of his injury, shifted to the overarm stroke, and frantically increased his speed. “Ross!” sounded the excited cry of the helmsman. on, Ross!” His breath was drawing hard, his strength forsaking him under the terrific pace, but he kept on. The helinsman was steering a clever course. The boy, with the bear not a yard behind, dodged. He dived and shot off sidewise. It was clumsy perhaps, viewed from the standards to which the bear was accustomed, but it served. It might have been the unexpectedness of it. Or it might have been the shouts of the men in the boat, so near now as to constitute something of a menace. Anyhow, the ruse worked. It gave the boy an instant’s time before the bear again pressed him close. In- stead of being between the bear and the boat he was now off to one side, furnishing the men an opening that they had not had before. In the boat, always ready for use, there was a coil of rope (Concluded on page 37) “Come March

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<oF FOR ALL BOYS Wha BeY. SCOUTS throughout the country will be interested in the campaign Scout Foundation of Greater New York is conducting to enlist the services of 1,000 volunteers to act as New York has which the Boy scoutmasters. Boy Scouts, but only about 3,000 scoutmasters. The insurrection in Mexico is still out of hand. Adolfo de la Huerta, leader of the rebels, proclaims a blockade of the Port of Tampico, and the United States Government dis- patches a squadron of seven war vessels to the scene with the warning that it will not tolerate any interference with its nationals or with their law- ful business in Mexico. Presi- dent Obregon is permitted to buy arms and munitions here to use against the rebels, but a like favor is refused De la Huerta, the refusal being em- phasized by a Presidential proclamation declaring an em- bargo on the shipment of arms and munitions to Mexico for use by the rebels. Following the recent elec- tions in Honduras, in which none of the three candidates for president received a major- ity of the votes cast, martial law is declared by President Gutierrez. More than 200 followers of General Carrias, who received the largest num- ber of votes, were imprisoned when it was thought they were about to start a revolution. The United States Department of State takes note of the troubled conditions by in- structing the American Minister at Tegucigalpa to inform the President of Honduras that this Government regards with disfavor any attempt on the part of a government to perpetuate itself except by constitutional means. Brig.-Gen. Charles G. Dawes, Owen D. Young and Henry M. Robinson, the American members, take their seats with the special expert committee appointed by the Allied Reparations Commission to investigate and remedy Germany’s chaotic financial affairs. the committee, and demands that common sense rule its actions. Secretary of State Hughes announces that the State Department has Gustave Eiffel, who built the famous Eiffel Tower in Paris, and who is remembered for other great engineering feats, dies at his home in Paris, in his ninety-second year. Below is a picture of the famous Frenchman and the tower which bears his name.

1924 23,000 ey «a ae RS” Ne i-_ *

4 The French dirigible, Dixmude, with fifty officers and men, was lost in the Mediterranean, the body of the com- mander, Lieutenant Duplessis de Grenandan, being found later by fishermen in the sea six miles from Sciacca, Sicily. The Dixmude had been cruising over Northern Africa. oie photograph shows her with her crew. General Dawes is made chairman of

3,000 pilots.

Master Sergeant Samuel Woodfill (above), designated by General Pershing s ‘‘the outstanding American soldier in the World War,” ten military decorations, is retired with full military honors at Fort Benjamin Harrison, Indiana, after twenty-two years and five months of service. information that the Russian Soviet Government is conducting propaganda here against this country and against the republican form of government. denied by Georg Tchitcherin, Soviet Foreign Minister, who is seeking to have the United States recognize the Soviet Government. Eighteen people, fourteen of them patients, are burned to death in a fire at t! State h spital for the insane at Dunning, Illinois. In his annual report to Secretary Denby, Rear-Adm. William A. Moffett, C’ wef of the Bureau of Aeronautics of the Navy Department, says that the condition of the Naval air reserve force is deplorable, and recommends a flying reserve of no less than The 261 cities of the country having a population of 30,000 or more are living be- yond their means, according to statistics given out by the Census Bureau. The figures show that the cost of government per capita in these cities amounts to $57.38 for the year, as against revenues of $51.81. 566,519, and the total revenues are $2,007,008,796. Secretary of Labor Davis sends to the Senate and House Immigration committees the draft of a new immigration bill providing for selection of immigrants abroad and 27 Is. Doing| sphere.

OU. & U. The United States naval dirigible, Shenandoah, destined for a flight to the North Pole next summer, was blown from her mooring mast at Lakehurst, N. J., during a terrific gale; but, with its nose flattened and gaping holes torn in

its bow and stern, successfully rode out the gale.

the possessor of The charge is

The total cost of government is $2,222,- The $100,000 Bok peace prize is won by that the United States join the World Court, and that it extend its present cooperation with the League of Nations under certain conditions. Senator Ellison D. Smith, Democrat, of South Carolina, is elected Chair- man of the Interstate Commerce Committee, succeeding Senator Albert Cummins, Republican, of Iowa, and thus ending a prolonged deadlock. (Concluded on page 59) for the extension of the quota restriction to all countries in the Western Hemi- Following this, the House Immigration Committee drafts a_ bill which would restrict immigration to this country on a basis of 2 per cent. of the for- eigncitizens of each country here in 1890, withan annual minimum quota of 200 for each nation. Control and operation of the government-owned mer- chant fleet is taken from the Shipping Board and placed in the hands of the Emergency Fleet Corporation, of which Rear-Adm. Leigh C. Palmer, retired, is named president. A memorial signed by Man- uel Roxas, Speaker of the Philippine House of Represen- tatives, and Pedro Guevara, resident Philippine Commis- sioner in Washington, requests Congress to grant independence to the Philippine Islands, and criticizes the administration of; Gov.-Gen. Leonard Wood. Rep- resentative James A. Frear, of Wisconsin, offers a resolution in the House of Representatives providing for an investigation of the administration of Gen- eral Wood as Governor-General. Forty-five men are killed by a dust explosion in the plant of the Corn Products Refining Company at Pekin, Illinois. A cold wave passing over the country causes much suffering and the death by freezing of six people in Chicago, three in St. Louis, and one in St. Paul. The provisions of the Trans- portation Act which required railroads to divide with the Government their excess earn- ings are declared constitutional by the United States Supreme Court in a test case brought by the Dayton-Goose-Creek Rail- way Company of Texas. Plan No. 1469, which suggests Sir Auckland Geddes resigns as British Am- bassador to the United States because of ill health and Sir Esme Howard, now British Ambassador to Spain, is appointed to the Washington post. The new representative of eatgBritgin appears in Tclesinsert.

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Treatment for Fainting 1. (a) Place the patient in a comfort- able position, the head lower than the body with a pad of some kind under the small of the back. Loosen clothing, especially round the neck, and apply smelling salts to the nostrils. Rub the arms and legs towards the body to force the blood to the heart. (b) After patient has recovered con- sciousness stimulants znay be given. Four Hand Carry 5. (a) This carry is used when the patient is not badly injured. Each scout grasps his left wrist with his own right hand. Then the free hand of each carrier grasps the right wrist of the other. (b) The patient will find this a very com- fortable seat and is able to help hirnself by placing his arms rougd the.necks of the carriers. J : Making a Flat Bandage 9. (a) To make a flat or cravatte band- age’ out of a triangular one, carry the point to the long edge as shown. (b) Then carry the short edge to the long edge a second time. If a narrower bandage is desired feld over yet again. ‘gh ‘. The Roller Bandage 13. (a) Incorrect way of holding a roller bandage. Held this way, the bandage is more likely to fall out of the hand. (b) Correct way. Make three turns at the smallest part of the limb to be treated; by unrolling the bandage as you apply it full control can be kept. Emergency Splints 2. (a) Fractured forearm should be sup- ported by two pieces of wood, rolled news- papers, or the like. Two bandages should be applied above and two below the fracture. The spaces between the splints and arm should be padded with cotton wool, grass, leaves, cloths, etc. Three Hand Carry 6. (a) This is sometimes known as the chair carry as a chair back is made by the arm of one of the carriers grasping the shoulder of the other. Application of Flat Bandage 10. To apply a flat or cravatte bandage to a wound on front of the leg, put a com- press on the wound and then place the center of the bandage on same. Pass each end of the bandage around the leg and tie with a square knote®” a Finger Bandage 14. (a) Make compress of four or five folds at the beginning of a one inch bandage, the folds being nearly twice the length of the finger. Place this over the end of the finger as shown. Emergency Splints 3. (b) If the leg is fractured above the knee, place a splint the length of the leg at the outside up to the armpit and another on the inside from ankle to crotch. Tie two bandages above and two below the fracture. Pad all spaces between splints and jlimb to prevent the fractured bones from moving or rubbing. Three Hand Carry 7. (b) This carry is used when the patient is unable to support himself by placing his arms around the necks of his carriers. Note how the patient’s arms are supported in a loop formed by the knot in the end of his neckerchief. The Arm Sling 11. An arm sling with a scout neckerchief or triangular bandage is shown above. The forearm should be square across the body, the hand neither higher nor lower than the elbow. Note the Jefiotted,point of the neckerchief at the” ¢tbow.” Finger Bandage 15. (b) Wrap bandage around compress and the finger, finishing at wrist by split- ting the bandage and tying with a square knot. BOYS’ LIFE By “SKipper’’ Gidney Photos by courtesy of the Corte-Scope Co Emergency Stretcher 4. (a) Spread a blanket on the ground with two poles over same. Fold about eight inches of blanket over one pole and the rest of the blanket over the other, so that there is sufficient of it to overlap the first pole and go well around it. (b) Carefully place the patient on the stretcher. The two carriers must be sure to grasp the ends of the blanket as well as the poles. Capaters, must Break step. Fireman's Lift 8. (a) Place left foot against feet of patient, grasp his hands, then with a quick movement pull up against breast. (b) Put right arm between patient’s legs, lift and place on left shoulder. (c) Grasp patient’s right wrist with right hand. Emergency Slings 12. (a) Arm placed in open shirt front. (b) Shirt sleeve pinned in front of shirt. (c) Handkerchief pinned to shirt. A triangular bandage not long enough to go around the neck may be used in the same way. —— ot Reverse Spiral Bandage 16. To reverse or turn the bandage, place the thumb at the upper edge of the bandage on the arm, twist the bandage roll holding it loosely, then wrap it around the arm, laying bandage on smoothly, making it as tight as desirable. March

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rr ee ee eee FOR ALL BOYS Pops of Popular Science By F. A. Collins Changing Cars in the Air "A LL out. Take aeroplane ahead.” Air travelers of the future may be familiar with this order. Passengers have already been transferred from one aeroplane to another while in flight. With the present methods it takes a daring athlete to accomplish the feat. Meanwhile aeroplanes have landed upon diri ibles and departed from them while in flight. It may some day be possible to transfer cargoes from one air craft to another in flight. An aeroplane while traveling ninety miles an hour was recently refuelled from another craft- The two machines were maneuvered together when a hose was passed between them. While flying at this speed some forty feet apart a supply of fifty gallons of oil was transferred. The oil In many cases the miniature yachts were actually larger than their owners. It is believed that the fleet was the largest of its kind ever assembled. A group of the yachtsmen, with their craft standing at the starting line, is shown in the accompanying illustration. The model yachts were all racing craft with deep keels, long slender hulls and towering white sails. All sails were set and the crafts were tuned up for the race. The regatta was held under the auspices of the Southern Yacht Association of California and the Los Angeles Model Yacht Club. Above the Clouds THis remarkable photograph of cloud scen- ery was taken at an elevation of two miles flowed from the higher to the lower plane. By refuelling in the air the record for non-stop flights may be indefinitely ex- tended. A Streamline Locomotive ie FUTURE the locomotive may completely -change its appearance. It is only a few years since we judged their speed by the size of their smoke stacks. As trains travel faster the resistance of the wind be- comes so important that the stack and the engineer’s cab must be taken out of the . ay. Interesting tests are now being carried on with locomotives de- signed with streamline bodies, like a dirigible balloon or an directly aboyg*ie Gity of San Francisco. The Oh Le ek es he Sy % 3 Ba : ae ons —_ x eet RES “oo 5 Ret ed oa a aeroplane. The front of the boiler comes to an edge which literally cuts the air. The sides and top slant backward something like a snow plow. These tests are made by building models and placing them ina current ofair. The model is held by delicate springs which measure the resistance. The air currents blow against the miniature locomotive at the rate of 100 feet per second, which is the force of a hurricane. A number of models are constructed to find which offers the least resistance. The locoriotive of the future may look something like a rocket. Fish and Game are Disappearing FEW city boys nowadays find any oppor- tunity to go fishing. It is only a few years since the docks even of the largest cities were lined with fishermen who had the best of luck. The disappearance of fish of all kinds from local waters is extremely serious. Fully one- fourth of all our food supply in America comes from the water, and this is rapidly disappearing. Sea food of all kinds is being rapidly driven away by the factories and sewers which drain into the rivers and harbors. This is true not only of the entire Atlantic and Pacific coasts but of the Mississippi Valley as well. At the present rate the oyster supply of the country will soon disap- pear. As the riversare polluted game of all kinds is affected. If our fish continue to disappear at the present rate the boys of another generation will not know what a fish pole looks like. Just before the Signal A SPIRITED regatta of model yachts took place recently in Los Angeles in which no less than fifty-eight boy yachtsmen competed. vast, level layer of clouds looks amazingly like the sea with the waves lashed by a severe gale. In the distance may be seen the Pacific Ocean. The aeroplane caught in the picture was ex- perimenting with a new kind of smoke for use in sky writing. It is similar to that used in making smoke screens in naval warfare. If the great floor of clouds could be suddenly rolled away the great City with its network of streets and towering buildings would appear in miniature far below. The picture was snapped at one of the moments when California was not “sun kissed.” : A Great White Way for Fliers A CONTINUOUS line of night beacons will soon span the continent to guide our night fliers. To provide efficient night signals up hill and down dale for so great a distance is a gigantic task. Many new problems are pre- sented. A lighthouse by the sea can be ob- served from any point on the same plane. The flyer must be able to pick up a light: from a variety of angles, even when passing directly above it. One of the new designs for such signals consists of a lighthouse with a battery of eight lenses grouped about a circle. These are so placed that at a distance their rays converge. From a distance they are therefore visible from every point of view. The lights used are very powerful, the total candle tower being about 1,000,000. Such a lighthouse is visible for about one hundred miles under favorabie conditions. It will require only about twenty- five of these stations to blaze a way for night fliers from New York to San Francisco. 1924 ~~ ‘ Why rubber tye are # like cows JR UBBER trees in many ways are like cows. They give us a rich, white fluid that looks like milk, called latex. What’s more, they give it only at certain hours of the day, and they vary in the quality and quantity of their yield. On the plantations in the Far East which are owned by the makers of Keds a large staff of scientific men—chemists and botanists—are at work constantly discovering new secrets about producing rubber. They have learned that rubber trees can be scientifically bred and trained to give better and larger quantities of latex. They have given the world, as a result, the highest grade of rubber ever known. This is the rubber.that goes into Keds. It is the reason why the Keds sole is so full of spring and so light, yet so tough and wear-resisting. It is one of the big reasons why Keds are being worn today by all the best athletes who demand the utmost in speed and foot protection. It explains why Keds are the standard by which all canvas rubber-soled shoes are judged. Keds, of course, vary in price according to type. But no matter what kind of Keds you buy, every pair gives you the highest value at the price. They are not Keds unless the name Keds is on the shoe Remember—Keds are made only by the United States Rubber Company. While there are other shoes that may at first glance look like Keds, no other shoe can give you Keds service. If the name Keds isn’t on the shoes, they are not real Keds. Our 1924 Hand-Book for Boys contains rules for basketball and hand- ball as well as interesting information on radio, camping, etc. Sent free if you address Dept. M-11, 1790 Broadway, New York City. United States Rubber Company ,Ceye Trademark Reg U.S.Pat. OFF A sturdy sport shoe. Athletic-trim and ankle patch. Lace- to-toe pattern gives snug fit. A great favorite with boys

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Written

BOYS’ LIFE

(Conel

Plan Number Three uded from page 19)

That night Harris came, bringing with him Larry Klost. Klost apologized for “‘ butting in.” “I'll blow along and let you two chin it out soon’s I get something off my chest. I didn’t know but that you might think, bein’s how I was standing there heart-to-hearting with Sig and Slim— Oh, we all know who you meant—that maybe I was in with them and against you. Well, I ain’t. Fact is, my dad’s the president of a soap company, and I’mso used to the smell of it that half the time I think it’s some new kind of perfume. No kid, Carry, I’m no snob.” “You don’t need to tell me, Klost. But I’m glad you did. And you needn't clear out on account of Harris and me—maybe you'll come in on it. We need a helper.” ““What’s the racket?” “That depends on you two. But here’s the lay: We’fe going to Wesley a week from to- morrow, and Snell intends taking me along— sorry, Harris. Now I figure that Slim and Siz will try a grandstand play. They know Snell doesn’t want to lose that game, and they figure that he’d rather get along without me than lose both of them. They’ll put it up to him that way, at the very last minute, of course, and catch him where he just about can’t help himself. Snell can easy enough put Harris here in my place, but he’s got nobody to take the place of Slim at center or Sig at ‘left forward, as Harris has always played on the right side—so there you are.’ “Veh,” said the other two, are.” “‘Oh, no, we aren’t. Just two mistakes—or overlooks, maybe you’d call them. One is that I always play ed left forward in high school, so I'd be easy to shift, and Harris could fill my place at right. But there’s still Slim—either of you been watching Chunky Anderson lately? I'll swear that, for all his short legs, he’s outjumping Slim more than half the time. Notice how grouchy coach got to-night when Slim’d give the signal for a tip-back and then Chunky’d snap it out of his hands? Suppose the three of us, plus Chunky, got together. I’m no coach, but I tell you what I can do——” “What?” asked the other two eagerly. “I can make a real basket-ball player out of ’ to Harris. “You do, and I’ll—I’ll have Klosty’s dad send you enough perfumed toilet soap to wash dishes in the rest of your life!” “Just one other thing,” added Carry, after they had all laughed at Harris’s promise. ““Where does Lewis stand—or do you know?” “T know he’s got no use for Sig,’’ answered Klost. “He and I are pretty good friends and I can find out his sentiments.” “All right, you do that. If he’s with us, bring him along to-morrow night. Some time through the day I'll find a chance to ask Coach Snell to let us use the gym an hour or so each night after supper—tell him we want to work out some new plays. If he says we can have it, boy! we'll make a certain two somebodies sit up and take notice.’ “How you going to make a basket baller out of me?” asked Harris. ‘*How? Do you know your chief fault?” “Ought to—I’ve been told often enough.’ “Not enough fight in you. You know how | they make a fighter out ofadog? Feed him raw beef. You're going to get the same medicine!” “But I can’t stomach raw meat!” “You can the way we'll serve it to you, eh, “there we

y ou,’ | Klost?” “Sure can,”’ agreed Klost, though he was as much at sea as Harris himself. “Raw meat’s just a figure of speech, Harry. We’re going to red-rag you the same as they do a bull—and that’s another figure of speech. Got a football suit?” “Uhuh.” “Wear it to-morrow night when you report for secret practice at seven-thirty. Now beat it, fellows, ’cause I’ve got—and so have you— a sight of studyin’ to do.” Coach Snell’s consent was easily obtained, but his curiosity was not so easily satisfied. “Care if I drop in?” he asked, at which Carry registered dismayed protest. ‘Well, I won’t say I won’t,” said the coach, but he laughed as he said it, so that Carry felt considerably relieved. At three o’clock math class Klost managed to get a message across to Carry: “He’ll be there,” which Carry took to mean that Lewis was another one on his side. Seven-thirty in the big gym, with its sputtering arc lights protected by chicken netting, its empty, echoing space. Five boys, acting like conspirators at a tryst, but looking like youngsters out for a good time. Four of them wore regulation basket-ball suits, but the fifth, Harris, as per instructions, appeared in the football suit he had worn on the side lines all fall. The same failing had kept him out of the game there—lack of fight. As pretty an open field runner as you ever saw, but downed at the first tackle—‘‘as if you were playing ‘tag, you’re it,’”’ Coach Wimby stormed at him. As for bucking the line—horrors! “All right, fellows, here’s the line of march. We’re going to initiate Harris here into the mysteries of real basket ball. Now they always have a goat at initiations, I’m told. So Harris is going to be the goat, too. That doesn’t sound just right, but we should worry. Now the big trouble with our young friend is that before he goes into any game he says to himself, soft-like, . ‘Gee, I do hope they don’t play rough.’ For once he won’t have to say that. “We're going to play rough. “We're going to get him into the habit of playing rough and being played with rough, not because we want him to grow up into a ruf- fian, but so he’ll have the pep instead of the pip. We are relying on his natural refinement to keep our rough lessons from breaking down his moral structure, as Professor Bryson would say. Harris has the sand—there’s nothing yellow about him. He’ll take the gaff, and not only that, after a few evenings of it he’s going to like it. Inside a week we'll be begging him to go easy—he’ll be too rough for us. But for a little while I expect it’ll be the other way around, so remember the watchword: ‘No quarter.’” The odd contest proved even rougher and more strenuous than Carry had planned, but he noted with satisfaction that Harris, with a queer half-grin, pitched into it with plenty of vim. True, his enthusiasm began to wanea bit after a few stiff mix-ups that slammed him on the floor, one of which must have bruised even through the padding of his football suit, but the fellows, taking their cue from Carry, played the ball toward Harris so steadily that he was in the thick of the fight most of the time. Carry, charging past Lewis, who had taken the last pass, whispered hoarsely: “Shoot it to Harris, out in the middle. Let’s try to make him dribble through us all!” Lewis passed the ball, but Harris, after one look at the wild bunch charging toward him, weakened and tried a long shot from the center of the floor. “‘Cowardy-calf!” sneered Carry. “Coward yourself,” retorted Harris. “A fellow’s a fool to try a dribble through a gang like that.” “Sure,” grinned Carry. “And fools like that win games. Come on, fellows, let’s make calfy pay for the sodas!” ‘Like heck you will!” But the taunting laugh that Carry flung over his shoulder as he raced to intercept a long pass was a thing to make a fellow fight. “Coming right through you!” he_ yelled, knocking the ball down at just the right angle to start his dribble. Harris’s charge was a thing to be admired—if one likes to see a fellow lose his temper. But he broke up the dribble, taking a nasty spill to do it. Both players went down in a heap, Carry on top and digging his elbows and knees Ww a wholly unnecessary force into Harris’s ribs. “You did that on purpose, you big——” “What if I did?” challenged Congr “You're as big as [ am—what if I did!’’ “Try it again!” tightly clenched teeth. “T will,” vowed Carry, concealing his grin of satisfaction as best he could. Then both jumped back into the fray, but too late to pre- vent another basket by Lewis. Eight for him now. Klost took the ball as it dropped through and started to dribble toward the other goal, but midfield he lost the ball to Anderson, who: stood flat-footed and shot the ball i ina long arc that swished it through the iron ring without touching it. Nine for. him. The next night Carry grimly announced that they’d have another lesson all right, but out of a different text-book. So they played a variety of scrub, but one that called for rougher tactics than most referees would allow. From Carry’s standpoint, however, the session was a failure, for Harris failed to re- spond. So the next evening they went back to the battle royal. Here Harris redeemed him- self; he played a crafty, reckless game and was first out. March grated Harris through.

aa ai ci

a Welk rns - ere. + ORS ys,

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Ce ee me 2 RR INE et ne rere at ORE popes ae * TEE * FOR ALL BOYS Thursday night was their last night session in the gym, their sixth. That afternoon the team had gone through their last practice be- fore the Wesley game. Carry had been pleased and astonished — game Harris had put up, laying against Klost. ‘ Coach Snell had also been noting the im- provement. “He'll give you or Lindholm a run for your money next year,” he remarked. “That boy Harris is sure a comer.”’ “How about this year, Coach?” but Snell had not replied to his question. “Just look at that boy jump!” he had ex- claimed instead. Carry had looked at Harris, but that indi- vidual obviously had not been jumping, as he was just then tying his shoestring. So he looked over to where he had last seen Anderson. Chunky had both feet planted firmly on the floor, but Carry had an inward hope—yes, and conviction—that it had been he who had aroused the coach’s admiration. At the secret practice that night Carry had repeated the conversation to the bunch, in- wardly chuckling over the flush that spread over Harris’s face. “All right, bunch, we’ll go light to-night. Just a few baskets and a little limbering up. We don’t want any _— when we spring our big idea on Coach Snell to-morrow.” “Just what is that big idea, anyway?” de- manded Lewis. ‘‘You’ve never told us the half of your scheme.” “Yeh,” from the rest, “let’s hear it, Carry.” “Okay. You all know the beginning, how I’ve got it doped out that when Snell announces the line-up for the Wesley game, with my name in it—he’s already told me I am to go—that’s the cue for Sig and Slim to go on strike. ‘No Carry or no us,’ they'll tell him, which, they figure, comes about as near being no choice as anything can. For what can the poor man do? If he loses them, he loses the game. For what kind of a fight could Hallam put up without its one shining star, Lindholm, for two years the mainstay of a championship team, or Slim Harder, the jumpingest center of the Associa- tion? Answer, echo, I haven’t the heart. “Then up speaks bold Horatius—that’s Latin for me—and says, ‘Behold, I have made you a new team. Come over to the gym and give us the once over.’ And that once over, gentlemen and fellow roughnecks, will settle the hash for Sig and Slim.” “T’'ll say!” said the four listeners, not just then being overwhelmed by any feelings of un- due modesty. “What say we chuck the rest of our secret practice and go on downstairs? It’s a little bit underhanded, maybe, but I’ve a notion that the last thing Coach Snell did before he closed his office for the night was to post the line-up for the game. He most always does, I know, because it’s always there early in the morning— and Mr. Snell likes to get up about as well as I do.” ‘You suppose it is?’’ eagerly. ““Wouldn’t be exprised. And I wouldn't be greatly surprised if every one of our names was on the list, because Coach Snell told me he figured he’d carry more substitutes along from now on, since we were getting into the heavier teams.” They trooped down the stairs, past the locker rooms and over to the gym bulletin board, just past the door of Coach Snell’s office. “‘Gee, fellows, the door’s open,” remarked Carry. “Wouldn’t wonder if Snelly was planning to come back. Probably he hasn’t posted the list yet. Who’s got a match? The bulb’s burnt out.” “Don’t accuse me of breaking training rules if I produce a scratcher,” laughed Harris. “T think there’s one in my sweater. You got it, Carry?” “Okay. Yep, here’s a match—if it’s got a head on it. Gee, wouldn’t I like to be just outside the door when Sig and Slim come in and see my name on the list, then march in to bull- doze our worthy coach? Wouldn't I, though! And then swoop right in on them, while they’re giving me fits, and give them a fit instead. I'd give a dollar just to hear them gasp when Mr. Snell falls for the secret prac- tice team we’ve red-ragged and raw-beefed for him—boy!” “Lose that match, or are you going to gloat—fine word, gloat—going to gloat all night over the prospect?” Scratch! The tiny light flared up and five one gy pairs of eyes scrutinized the bulletin ard. ‘“*Shucks!”” Five voices in the exclamation, then as the light flickered, almost went out. then flared again, ‘There it is—next to the gym schedule. Move that light—quick!” The light lasted but an instant before, with an “Ouch!” of pain because of burned fingers, Carry dropped it, but that instant was long enough for them to see— Center—Anderson L. Guard—Lewis R. Guard—Klost R. Forward—Martin L. Forward—Harris Substitutes: Lincoln, Stephens, Lindholm, Harder. “Did you ever!” It was Carry who said it, but he voiced the feelings of them all. ‘I'd give a nickel for another match—I can’t be- lieve that one told the truth!” ‘Lost something, boys?” They turned, startled. It was Coach Snell’s voice, coming from within the darkness be- yond his open door. They were too dumb- founded to answer him. “I’m afraid, Carry, that you’re not going to have a chance to pay a dollar for that gasp.” He chuckled as if he enjoyed it, then with an explosive laugh: “Secret practice! Raw meat! Red rag in frontof a bull! Wow! What’ll we do with this young night coach, Professor Bryson?” ‘““We might try plan number three,” snick-| ered the professor. Why-I-Subscribed Contest Winner—lke Webb (Age 14 years), Hugo, Okla. In May, 1922, my cousin and I joined the Boy Scouts, Troop 3, Hugo, Oklahoma. We passed the tenderfoot tests and began working on our second-class tests. Our scoutmaster asked us if we had heard of Boys’ Lire, the Scouts Magazine, and we told him that we had not. He told us that it would help us to become “True Boy Scouts” if we could subscribe to it. I was interested in the plan, but my cousin was not. l found a copy of Boys’ Lire at the library and read it. After the first story my interest grew into enthusiasm. I took the copy home and showed it to Dad, and when he read some stories and all the jokes he asked me if I wanted to subscribe. Of course I did, and when it came time to take the second-class tests I passed it, but my cousin decided that he was not ready to take his tests. It was not long until I passed my first-class tests, and when my cousin saw the badge he asked me, “Why am I only a tenderfoot and you a first-class scout?” I asked him if he remembered the time when our Scout- master told us that Boys’ Lire would help us to become better scouts, and he said, “Ves.” I said, “Well, Boys’ Lire did the trick.” Boys’ Lire not only makes better scouts but better boys, for it tends toward ‘Good Citizenship,” and I think every boy, scout or no scout, should subscribe. These are the names and addresses of boys whose letters this month were worthy of partic- ular mention: George Chatterton, age 13, South Pasadena, Calif.; James R. Patterson, age 12, Lewisburg, Tenn.; Clayton Francis, age 16, Southington, Conn.; William Stubbs, age 17, Buies Creek, N. C.3 Irvin Gregory, age 14, Newberry, S.C. DAARA RA RARARAAARARARARARARARARARAAARARAAARARARAAARARARARAAARARARARARARARARARARAAARARARARARARARARARARAAARARARAG MAKE YOUR BIRD-HOUSES SMALLER Nearly all of the bird-houses are made much larger than is necessary. If you will examine the nesting places which the birds have chosen for themselves you will find that many of the cavities have a uniform width of three inches in diameter. In other words, the little chamber for the nest is barely wide enough to admit your hand. This is especially true of the holes in which the Tree Swallows, Bluebirds, and House Wrens build their nests. It is true that you will find many a hollow fence-post where a house wren has filled the wide cavity with a bulky nest, but if you look carefully, you will see that the nest proper is really quite small. Several years ago, on the campus of a certain college in Ohio, forty-eight bird-houses were placed in different trees. Only one, the smallest and most inconspicuous one of the forty-eight, was patronized by the birds. Year after year a house wren has built a nest in it. The other houses have now lost their fresh and jaunty appearance, but not even once has a bird built @ nest in any of them. CITTTITTITITITITITI Ti i iii igi id he LETTING TTT (TTT TTT what you do wi Help us jwrite a battefy book for boys E ARE gping to write afbooklet for boys describ- ing many/jinteresting thiggs that run with dry cell power. Tell fs what you hgve done with one or more Columbia Dry Cells. Do yqgh light your tent, or run a telephone? Have you disgbvered something new that other fellows don’t know aPout? Perhaps a clever toy, or somethingj useful around the house. Whatever it may be, just writé a letter desgribing how it works. Make a rough sketch, if possible. Every boy who sends ¥s a battery-use suggestion will receive a cg@py of this bgoklet free as soon as it is pub- lished. W¢ will print the name and address of the boy who contrifuted each idfa that is published so the credit will go to the one who eserves it. If you haven’t been frying lately, get a Columbia and experimentj with things that go. You can do more with Columbias+they’re sofvigorous. Come org boys, lef¥s see how big we can make this booklet. Iwill be sqfnething every live boy will be eager to own. rite youg letter to-day—and get one of the first copies off the gress. NATIONAL {CARBG Canadian Nationah Carbo CO., INc., New York, San Francisco o., Limited. Factory and Offices: Toronto, Ontario Columbia Dry Batteries —they last longer The world’s standard dry cell. Always strong ~and reliable.* Easy to buy anywhere. Fahnest Spring :Clip Binding Posts on Columbia Ignitor atmo extra cost to you. The neat steelsca Columbia Hot Shot contains 4,45 or @ vig connected in It’s for knock-ab engines of all ~~ batteries 31 .

Page 34

oat sy > eed SESEF ~s. wad Bees Courtesy ot The American Museum of Natural History. THIS IS THE SKELETON OF AN ALLOSAURUS These lizards, while they were much smaller than other dinosaurs, were more dan- gerous than most because of their ferocious teeth. They were meat-eaters and often fed on other dinosaurs. At the American Museum of Natural History in New York are a number of fossil bones in which the huge teeth marks of the Allosaurus can be plainly seen. INCE his father was elected to Congress and the family moved from Junction City to Washington, that good scout, J.T. Presley has been writing to Scribe “Skeets” Clark of his home-town troop, telling all about the wonders in science he sees around the Capital. His letters have started things in the old shack which serves as Junction City troop headquarters. Skeets, Red, Jack Mason, Marblehead, and the other scouts have set out to find out just as much at home as the lucky J. T. discovers in Washington. Last month they showed him that they could learn more about the Moon than he did looking through a big tel- escope on a visit to the LU. S. Naval Observatory. and long tails and walked on their big hind legs. There were some that could stand on the bottom in water forty feet deep and stick their heads above the surface. Others were heavier and walked on all fours. One of the biggest ones in the Hall was the Terrible Three-Horn Lizard. Even you, and Red, and Jack would certainly clear out of the old shack if you could see any- thing like him coming toward it. It was as big as an elephant with a scaly hide and heavy tail. Many of the Terrible Lizards had little heads, but this Three-Horn kind had a head six feet long. A man, who was showing a workman how to fix one of the ribs of an animal, that was just being set up for exhibit, saw me looking at Old Three-Horn and he came over and pointed out where one of the horns had been broken off and then healed up. He said Three-Horn must have been a terrible fighter, but that it was the original bone-head; for most of its great big head was bone and it had the smallest brain for the size of its head of any animal known. He showed me how you can tell alot about what the Terrible Lizards ate and where they lived BOYS’ LIFE Millions Of Letters of “J. T.” and “Skeets’ sent through Scierice Serf by their bones. Three-Horn must have eaten grasses and leaves and things like that, for it didn’t have the sharp teeth and claws needed to tear meat like some of the other dinosaurs had. Beside the Terrible Lizards, there were skeletons of mam- moth and mastodons, which were kinds of elephants, which lived hundreds of thousands of years after the dinosaurs died out, but died off themselves thousands of years ago. The man showed me one which he said had been a lot heavier than our circus elephants and had long brown hair and longer and more curved tusks. I asked him how he could tell the kind of hair the elephants had. He took me over to a case on the side and pointed to a piece of hide with long brown hair on it. He said it was part of a Hairy Elephant which was found frozen in the ice in Siberia. It had been preserved for more than ten thousand years in a natural refrigerator. There was also a piece of the muscle and some of the dried blood. And although they do not know within meny centuries of what year the Hairy Elephant died they know within two weeks of the time of the year, for in its stomach they found some freshly eaten grass just like the grass that grows in late summer in House Office Building, Washington, D.C. Scribe Robert Clark, Scout Troop No. 1, Junction City, Ill. Dear ‘“‘Skeets”’: Since my last letter to you, I have been through the U. S. National Mu- seum. It is a big build- ing with wide halls filled with life-size mod- els of more different kinds of Indians and wild animals than you would ever see in any circus, besides a lot of other wonderful things that you would never think about at Junction City. If you could go to sleep and when you woke up find yourself in one of the main halls of the Museum, you would think you were having a bad dream. It is filled with skeletons and lifelike imitations of giant animals that lived thousands and mil lions of years azo. iueé most scary-look- ing were the dinosaurs or Terrible Lizards, big legs. scaly monsters which lived in swamps back millions “of years ago when there were no big hairy animals on earth. The skeletons were all put together just like they were when these Terrible Lizards were alive except for their skin and muscles and insides, and the scien- tists have figured out about what they must have looked like and made big models to show them in action. li Eddie Baker let little snakes and toads scare him, I guess he would have had the creeps just to look at some of those big Terri- ble Lizards. There were lots of different kinds. Some could fly, others had long snaky necks Courtesy of The American Museum of Natural History AN ALLOSAURUS DEVOURING THE REMAINS OF A BRONTOSAURUS While the Brontosaurus was the largest of the lizards, he could vot readily protect himself from the ferocious atlacks of the Al- losaurus. The Brontosaurus’s head was small and his teeth were not meant for eating meat. The Allosaurus, on the other hand, had a huge head armed with sharp teeth. Furthermore, his short front legs were armed with sharp claws. age He walked on his hind that part of Siberia to-day. But we would get a good idea of what the Hairy Ele- phants looked like if that onehad never been found in the ice. Men who lived in caves in Europe when the March F 192

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FOR ALL BOYS : Pe? aa 3 ears Ago! _ : . ery sa Hairy Elephants were still alive drew pic- —— tures of them on the cave walls and the pic- tures have lasted. For the smart elephants in circuses come from India and those that can’t be trained come from Africa, but way back thousands of years ago there were many different kinds of elephants nearly all over the world. Big herds of them lived in America and fossils of them have been found right near Junction City, too. They liked places where they could get plenty of water. Elephants have to have water for Courtesy ot [he American Museum of Natural History. their comfort, the man told me, and I re- THE SKELETON OF A BRONTOSAURUS COMPARED WITH THE - membered how you and Red worked carry- incor exe aps ing water for the elephant the last time This small headed and greatly elongated lizard was the largest of any of the dinosaurs. the circus came to Junction City and knew The picture below shows an imaginary scene in which several of them are disporting you would agree with him. themselves in a swamp. After we had seen the exhibits, the man took me down to see Tell all the troop they ought to be here with me. You the workshop. There were big slabs of stone with a lot of could stay in Junction City all your life and not see such won- bones all scattered through them, and a workman was chipping derful animals as some of these. I wish you all could come here the rock from around them. By studying how bones fit to- and take a trip into the past with me. gether in other animals and by finding whole bones in some Your old friend, cases, they are able to piece together the fossil animal as he was eis in life. It is just as if you took a big jig-saw puzzle, lost some of the parts, and then mixed the rest of the parts in fresh Junction City, Ill. Mr. J. T. Presley, Jr., c-o Hon. Joseph T. Presley House Office Building, Washington, D. C. Dear J. T.: After I read your letter to the troop, Red wanted us to start right out and hunt for some of the fos- sifs of some of those won- derful animals the man told you once lived around here. Jack said he used to find lots of fossil sea- shells in rocks when he lived down in Kentucky and wanted us to look for some of those. But Mar- blehead wouldn’t agree to that. He was anxious to get the fossils of some big animal that would be just as wonderful as_ those Terrible Lizards or Hairy Elephants you told about. Well, we started out across country. We looked amd looked and walked until we were tired. I guess scientists don’t always find what they look for. Anyway, we were cutting through the field over back of Mr. Simmons,. place’ om our way home: without a thing to show for our Courtesy of The American Museum of Natural History THE BRONTOSAURUS, THE GREATEST OF THE DINOSAURS This scene is an imaginary one showing Brontosauri as they are thought to have been. Careful scientific reconstruc- tions suggest that this painting is approximately correct. This great lizard lived in or in the vicinity of swamps,.and fed’ upon the succulent water weeds. His length was huge, being far greater than any of his cousins. He sometimes attained a length of 75 feet or even more. Courtesy of The Ameriean eoncrete. If yow chiseled the jig-saw parts out of the hard con- hunt,. when Jack hollered’ he had found a: fossil: — of Natural His- ¢rete and then tried to make your picture, you would get some It was a little square column of bone, and none of us knew THIS UPSTANDING idea of the way they have to do with some of these fossils. The what it was. Red said it might be part of one of those Terri- INDIVIDUAL IS AN skeleton of one Terrible Lizard they were working on, they ble Lizards, but we decided’ it wasn’t big enough. for anything: IGUANADON said, would: take: five years. to get out of the rock and put but a mighty small part.. We talked all the way into town: together. (Continued on page 58); This picture is of a life-size concrete statue built by Carl Hagenback, in Germany. These creatures, when im this position, sometimes stood thirty feet or more high. This reptile prob- ably lived largely in marshes, and it seems likely that he was a powerful swimmer. The forelegs were equipped with fowr complete fingers, the thumb being merely a bony spur. Footprints that have been found prove that the Tguanadon walked on his: hind, legs. THIS IS A TRICERATOPS This three-horned creature is the latest member of a large family of herbivorous, or grass eating, dinosaurs. His ‘head was huge, measuring, occasionally, six feet or more from front to back. The neck was protected by a bony frill and in addition to the two prominent horns over the eyes he had a short horn on the end of his nose. Despite the great size of his head, however, his brain was small, but none of the dinosaurs were very intelligent. This statue is based on the skeletons that have been found. 1924

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34 CHAPTER IX HE morning was still young two days later when Peter and Pedro came down from their camp to find a considerable company of Indian elders stand- ing at the top of the path, looking intently across the plain. Stepping to a good observation point, the white lads looked down. A young Hopi was coming up the trail at a sharp trot, his brown body glistening with sweat. He reached the top, touched hands with some of the elders, and ran on to the snake kiva. A quarter of a mile from the foot of the mesa, another runner was coming; half a mile farther back was a third; and from the intent looks of the old men, the lads knew that some moving dots far out on the plain were still others. ‘These fellows are as fond of running as your English friends are of walking, Pedrillo,” said Pedro. ‘‘ Now tell me, do we want to see the pagans launder their snakes to-day? If so, I “had better get hold of Wiki. With Fray Luis to coax and my- self to drive, we may get something out of him, but he will keep us away if he can. “Of course we want to see it,’’ said Peter, stoutly, conscious the while of a faint feeling in the pit of his stomach. “You do not lack for courage, kinsman, whatever may be said of your sense,” retorted Pedro. “Very well, I will get Wiki.” He departed on that errand. At high noon that day, Wiki, after much demur and more consultation with the elders, conducted them to the snake kiva, and went down ahead of them. Pedro followed, remov- ing his helmet as before, and bowing respectfully, but the Indians gave no sign of friendliness. The palefaces were tolerated, but nothing more. Fray Luis came next, and then Peter. There was a strong, pungent odor in the air, partly the crushed cucumber smell of the snakes, partly other perfumes whose origin could not be traced, partly the smell of sweating human bodies. There were fully thirty men present, all naked as the day they were born with weird paintings on their faces, arms and breasts and feathers tied in their hair. Six of them, all elderly, were seated round a large bowl near the center of the room, a bowl nearly full of liquid. Sand was spread over one side of the floor, reaching from the edge of the sand altar to the wall. Two men, the oldest in the room, lay, each resting Pedro applied his lips to the wound on one elbow, just off this sand-mat, each holding in his right hand a short stick, six or eight inches long, to which were tied some eagle feathers. “Snake whip,” explained Wiki in a whisper, in response to Peter’s insistent questions. “So they whip the snakes as well as wash them,” com- mented Pedro in an undertone. *‘‘Quite a human upbringing, say I.” All morning, sounds of monotonous wailing song had arisen from this kiva, and now, at some signal the whites could not catch, the singing began again. The old men around the medicine bowl seemed to lead it, two of them keeping time with rattles which gave a soft patter, like rain drops falling on parched earth. At first the song was a mere humming, but it gradually gathered volume and vigor, and suddenly rose to a sharp cry, then sank back. As this happened, a low exclama- tion from Fray Luis made him turn his head. Several men were stooping over some large water jars. As Peter looked, one of them plunged his hand into a jar, and brought out a good-sized rattlesnake. He already held one in his other hand. He carried these across the room, and gave them to one of the six old men seated round the medicine bowl. Others followed, bringing other snakes, until the old men had two each. The song began again, in quicker time than before, and as it rose to sharp climaxes, the old men plunged the heads of their snakes into the liquid in the medicine bowl, forced as much of the scaly bodies in as possible, and after repeating this four or five times, flung the reptiles across the room to the bank of sand. One of the snakes had coiled to strike, and one had started back across the sand toward the medicine bowl. Without the slightest sign of nervousness, one of the old men lying on the floor flicked the reptile across the jaws with his snakewhip of eagle feathers, and to Peter’s utter surprise, the serpent halted, turned and crawled back. After a moment, the coiled snake relaxed its posture. “There is devil work in this!” declared Pedro, firmly. Peter agreed with him. The weird song went on, dropping once more to a low mumble across which the rain like patter of the rattle came like the plucked strings of violins across the subdued tones of the rest of the orchestra. More snakes were brought and handed to the six priests, the song rose higher and took on a swifter tempo and again, as it reached a climax, the BOYS’ LIFE By George L. Anapp Illustrated by Clinton Balmer snakes were plunged in the liquid and flung across the room to the sand bed to dry. Time after time this happened, till the whole side of the room was a mass of writhing, crawling, scaly serpents. : OR any white man, in any age, the scene was enough to rack the strongest nerves. The villainous, overpowering smell, the weird music, the intent attitude of the men holding the reptiles, the abandon of the two naked old men on the floor, herding back a hundred restless rattlesnakes with two tiny, feather-tipped wands, hardly larger than a lead pencil it was more like wild nightmare than reality. The ceremony seemed to last for hours, yet it was still early afternoon when the last snake was flung on the sandbank to dry, and one of the six priests turned a curious fetich on its side to show that the rite was ended. The whites made for the open air as fast as dignity would permit. “By the ten-finger bones!” exclaimed Pedro. ‘‘I had rather charge an army. If these pagans had met us at the bottom of the path with their rattlesnakes instead of with weapons, we should not be in the village now!” “Tt was horrible!’ said Fray Luis in a low tone. did you notice one thing, Pedro?” “T noticed many, but what thing did you mean?” “What could have been easier than for those pagans to let their reptiles bite us?”’ “Easy enough,” admitted Pedro. would have exacted a heavy penalty.” “T doubt it,” said Fray Luis. “It could have been made to look like accident. I am sure they could have managed it a dozen times so that even the bitten man would have been compelled to say that no blame attached to the Indians. Yet, though they had us in their power, and did not want us to see their ceremonies, we are safe. They are a gentle folk, Pedro, well worthy of being taught the true faith, and in spite of all the years he has mastered them, Satan has not hardened their hearts.” “It maybe so,” returned Pedro, slowly. “Indeed ,I be- lieve it isso. Nevertheless, if I were Senor Morales, I should breathe easier when we have left this snake-washing village behind.” “What has Morales done?’’ asked Fray Luis and Peter in a breath. “He thrust one of their old men out of the path this morning, thrust him so roughly that he fell. As if that were not enough, he must need use insulting language to a group of their young women. They could not understand him, but I fear Wiki has translated his remarks, and anyway, his tones were plain enough.” ‘Have you spoken to Don Tovar?” “Not I.” “Then I will,” said Fray Luis. “T beg you will do no such thing,” said Pedro earnestly. “Morales is on guard at the camp, and can do no more mis- chief this afternoon. Heigho! I wonder how long it will be till I quit seeing snakes in my sleep.” “But “Still, our companions THEY walked around the plaza, taking especial pains to be courteous to such Indians as they met, then went back to the camp, where the entire force ate an early supper, and then moved to the plaza again, taking a position not far from the sacred rock. The public dance, of which Wiki had told them, was to be performed at sunset. In reality, it began while the sun was still nearly an hour high in the heavens. The women and children of the village came out, and grouped themselves near the sacred rock, some fifty feet from the Spaniards. A number of men, belonging, so Wiki informed them, to the Ante- lope fraternity, marched in slow procession round the plaza to a wailing music, and took position toward one side. Then, up from the snake kiva came the serpent priests, in full savage regalia. Each man wore an embroidered loin cloth, red moccasins and a red feather headdress. All had necklaces and arm bands of shells, and all exposed parts of their bodies were daubed with various colored paints. They made an imposing appearance as they formed up on the plaza, opposite the Antelope brotherhood, and began a monotonous dance, singing and keeping time with the rattles and with whizzers which reminded Peter of his few excursions into natural boy- hood. This went on for some minutes, and then the snake men turned and went toward their kiva, moving in groups of three. The foremost of the first trio knelt down at the open hatch, March FO! and holc gra: wrig of t carl yn @te oo oD &

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[FE VY tk he ly FOR ALL BOYS and when he rose, Peter could not suppress a start. He was holding a five-foot rattlesnake in his mouth. His lips and teeth grasped it just back of the head, the long, scaly body dropped wriggling before him. The head was turned to the right. One of the other trio immediately stepped to that side of the snake carrier, put his arm around the man’s neck, and brushed his snakewhip feathers back and forth across the reptile’s open aws. a Carrier,”’ said Wiki, pointing to the first man. ‘“ Hugger,” the arm encircling his comrade’s neck made the term accurate. “Gatherer,” this time he indicated the third man, “ He pick up snake if drop,” explained the returned Indian. ‘They think snake help bring rain. Very ignorant people.” Trio after trio approached the hatch, and came away in the same fashion. When all the snake priests were supplied, other snakes were given to the Antelope men to hold. The serpent-bearing procession wound at a slow, dancing gait around the plaza, and as they passed the sacred rock, the women gathered there sprinkled meal on the reptiles. They circled the plaza twice, then formed up again opposite the Antelope clan and repeated their slow dance. “What is that man doing?” asked Peter. Not far from the rock, one of the Snake clan was drawing a meal circle, perhaps twenty feet in diameter. Scarcely was it finished when the Snake priests turned and began to dance toward it, dropping their snakes in the ring as they passed. The Antelope men followed, doing the same, and then the women began emptying their meal baskets on the writhing mass. “Heavens, what a porridge!’’ cried Pedro; and as if the and the fear of the reptiles, too,’ he added. “I am a sorry coward.” ; ““Yes, the kind of coward of which martyrs are made,’’ re- turned Fray Juan. Peter stopped suddenly. ‘“‘Pedro,”’ he said, “‘did you see that great big snake? The one longer than a man, you remember, that we saw in the kiva this afternoon? Did you see it in the dance to-night?” * No,” said Pedro. “‘Neither did I,’’ said the boy. “I wonder what became of it?” ‘“‘Name of a Moor, don’t go worrying over lost snakes,”’ returned Pedro, testily. “I could spare the whole reptile fraternity, and the farther they wander away, the better.” By the time they reached their camp, the sun was down, and the whole sky a blaze of gorgeous color. Every shade of red, purple and gold was present, and with these a gleaming green which Peter could not remember seeing in the sunset sky be- fore. The soldiers sat hushed, awed by the beauty, eating their meal in silence. Even an hour afterward, when most of the display was over, enough was left, Peter thought, to shame any sunset he had seen at home. paren dropped to sleep at once when they turned in. Sometime later, he woke with a start. The night, he felt, was still young, and a glance at the stars—they were sleeping in the open—showed that they had changed position little since he went to bed. The camp was quiet. The sentry could be seen pacing his beat on the neck of land leading from the village to the camping place, and by the lank figure and the crossbow over the shoulder, Peter knew that Bernal the Moor was on guard. Everything seemed as it should be, and yet— 35 my tent and that swine—” he stopped to strike the Seri, who accepted the blow with hardly a wince—“‘didn’t see him! I'll take his hide off in strips the size of a bowstring for this!” “Tf you live!” retorted Pedro. ‘Come here.” Enmity forgotten in the urge of the moment, he dragged Morales to the fire. Sebastian already had kicked the embers together, and thrown on some fresh wood. Whipping out his dagger, Pedro slashed away the breeches which Morales had not removed, and in the firelight, could see two tiny punctures. Already the place was swollen. “Only one thing to do,” said Sebastian. “Right,” said Pedro, nodding. ‘Hold still!” Morales steadied himself, and Pedro made a deep, cross shaped cut through each of the fang marks. The blood came flowing freely. Morales drew a long breath. ““Now, have the pagan suck it,’ said Sebastian, pointing to the Seri. Pedro looked up at the swinish face, and his lips twisted in a grimace of disgust. “No,” he said. “I might as well finish the work.” He applied his lips to the wounds and sucked vigorously, spitting out the blood. . “Well done, my son!” exclaimed Fray Luis behind him. The whole camp was present, but Pedro went on with his task. Sebastian saw that his boots were fastened, took a firebrand for a torch, and went into Morales’ tent. There, coiled on the blankets, flat, triangular head raised inquiringly in the red light, was a gigantic rattlesnake. “Hold this,” said the soldier, handing the torch to Wiki. The Indian took the torch, Sebastian lighted the match of his gun, primed the pan, then dropping on one knee, took careful aim and fired. The snake’s head was blown to bits. Wiki k | exclamation had been a signal, one of the Snake men gave a s high, keening cry, and there was a rush toward the snakes. _ the lad had a feeling that something was very wrong, indeed. carried the writhing body outside by the fire, and stretched it Q Men seized as many of the reptiles as they could hold, and, Probably it was just nervousness, but—— out. It was fully seven feet long. Pedro, who had finished his dashed off down the pathway. Snakes that were dropped A faint sound, like the shaking of dry seeds in a pod, came _ _ministrations, looked at Peter, and nodded. r were picked up by little children, and handed to their elders. from the left, the direction in which Morales’ tent stood. “There is the snake you lost, Pedrillo,” he said in a low f In a few minutes, not a visible reptile was left on the plaza. _‘ Faint as it was, Peter sat up, tense and startled. Thencamea tone, and the boy nodded. In a few more, the men who had carried down the snakes were sudden exclamation, then a curse that ended in a scream, and returning. Women met them with bowls of black looking then the whang of an arquebuss. Pedro and Sebastian were D°’ TOVAR already had learned all anyone could tell liquid. on their feet at once, up from the ground in front of Morales’ about the accident. The snake had not been in the “Better go, now,” suggested Wiki. ‘‘Not pleasant to stay. _ tent rose the gigantic figure of the Seri, and out of the tent came tent when Morales went to bed. The sentries were sure that Drink make sick. Cure snakebite, but make stomach awful Morales himself, stooping, clutching at his leg and shouting _no one had approached the camp. Morales insisted that the : sick. Heave up—wu-uh! Belly turn over. Better go.” hoarsely: pagans had brought the reptile to bite him, but Don Tovar The emetic was already taking effect when the whites left. “A snake! I’ve been bitten! A snake!” stopped his complaints with a peremptory order. The camp woke to life on the instant. Pedro, Peter and Se- “No more of that!” he said. “I do not blame you for CHAPTER X bastian ran to the bitten man. being angry, but such talk is foolish. The snake came by “Where are you bitten?’’ demanded Pedro. accident, there was no other way in which it could come. "THEY walked back to their camp on the western mesa; “‘Here!”’ answered Morales, holding his hand to the outside How are you feeling?” t Pedro, Peter, Sebastian and Wiki together. Half-way of his thigh, just above the knee. ‘Someone put a snake in (Continued on page 51) across the plaza, Wiki stopped to speak to an old woman who stood leaning ona stick. She looked a hundred, her face was seamed and lined with wrinkles, but her black eyes were still bright and her step was far from feeble. She spoke to Wiki a” in a dry tone that seemed to show that she was enjoying some I. joke at his expense, but she looked mainly at Pedro and Peter. i “Who is the old lady, Wiki?” asked the boy when they started on again. “Very old,” said Wiki. “She wise woman. Know everything. Make throwup drink. Cure snakebite. Talk with Old Ones. Know songs—O, way back songs. Know everything.” ™ ” “A walking library, eh?” said Peter. “Must be handy to have that sort of person around.” ‘She must know as much as Doctor Bobadilla thinks he knows,” said Pedro. 2 They walked on, slowly. Fray Juan and Fray Luis were now near them, . deep in earnest conversation. ‘Never have I seen such devil wor- , ss WAY ship,” said Fray Juan. “It is incred- F * SAY Sy ible. And to find it among the gent- L/h; ~ Nj) SQ lest people we have met on the whole journey makes it all the more wonder- ful.” “They are a very gentle folk,” re- turned Fray Luis, turning, as he usually did, to the human side of a question. “I have told you how easily they could have disposed of us this afternoon. I amstill sick with the sight and smell of that snake washing, He was holding a ; five-foot rattlesnake in his mouth 1924

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BOYS’ LIFE it First Prize Awarded to F. D. Adams for his photograph “Grapefruit for Breakfast’ NATURE’S TEMPLE 244 im A v, ee SY A CAVE SCOUT SNAPS Albert Peck, Coopersville, Mich Ray y Quincy P. Beach, Hartford, Conn. . TENDERFOOTS 1 ~ Scout Executive E. W. Stimble, Brainerd, , en Minn. ~ A HIGH WASTE LINE Scoutmaster E. M. East, Waynesboro, Va. GRAPE FRUIT FOR BREAKFAST F. D. Adams, Dorchester, Mass. THE BIRTH OF A ROAD—R. M. Salisbury, Syracuse, .\— OA A PORCU-PINE TREE? Eagle Scout Cecil Cooley, Logan, Utah. THE MOUNTAIN TOP LAKE Glen Redington, Oxford, Idaho . WHEN FIVE STARS MAKE A STAR ON POST DUTY USE THIS IN YOUR SLING SHOT Charles Daugherty, Cleveland Heights, Ohio Sam Motter, Fort Worth, Texas March

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FOR ALL BOYS The World Brotherhood of Boys Edited by E. O’Connor A SCOUTMASTER writes us that he is interested in collecting minerals, rocks, relics, insects, and so on, and desires to corre- spond with boys or men, interested in similarcol- lections, from the cotton belt, from Kansas, the Rockies, and in foreign countries. A tenderfoot scout wishes to correspond with a scout who is a chemist. Three Patrol Leaders wish to get in touch with leaders of patrols having the same emblem. One isa Virginian, leader of a Beaver Patrol; another is a Pennsylvanian, also of a Beaver Patrol; and the third is the leader of a Fox Patrol in Colorado. Four German boys appeal for letters. One, fifteen years of age, wishes to correspond with a boy in Maywood, near Chicago, because he has there an uncle from whom he has heard nothing in three years. All four of these boys write in English. If you are a member of the World Brotherhood of Boys or wish to become a member, do not ask the Secretary to send you the addresses of the new members mentioned in this depart- ment; do not ask, either, to have their letters sent you. The notes are published in order to obtain letters for such new members as are listed. If you wish to correspond with anyone mentioned in these columns, or with any other member, send a letter for him written in ac- cordance with the rules, a copy of which may be obtained by writing to The World Brother- hood of Boys, Boy’s Lire, 200 Fifth Avenue, New York City. Also, the rules were published on page 37 of the February issue of the mag- azine. HE Secretary of the World Brotherhood of Boys is interested to learn something of the return which members have had from their letters and therefore asks that those who are readers of the magazine send replies to the fol- lowing questions. It is not necessary to repeat the question—indicate the one you are answer- ing by its number. Send the replies to Secre- tary, World Brotherhood of Boys, Boys’ Ltre, 200 Fifth Avenue, New York City. 1. How long have you been a member of the World Brotherhood of Boys? 2. With how many correspondents have you been in touch during that time? a. American—— b. Foreign—— 3. How many of these are your correspon- dents to-day? 4. Had you any special reason for ending your correspondence with any member? 5. Did your correspondents in any case cease to write to you? 6. Have you ever met any of your corre- spondents? 7. Do you feel that by this correspondence you have made real friendships? 8. Do you feel that by this correspondence you have gained some knowledge of and sympathy with persons of another part of the world or another race than your own? g. If you can give any details of your corre- spondence that you think would be of interest or value to the Secretary or to other members of the Brotherhood, please add them. A Perishable Shipment | (Concluded from page 26) The bear’s keeper was aboard, and, as the craft drove in within a few feet of the racers, he caught it up. He was no expert with the lariat, but knew how to handle one, and the failure of the bear to close when he might gave him a chance to throw. It was a good cast, the noose settling about the animal’s neck. The others were holding on their oars, and the boat had come to a stop. “Row!” ; It was a quick command, without any pre- liminaries, and they obeyed. There was no particular team-work about it perhaps, but they got started, and the rope, which the man had drawn tight, began to pull. The bear, the instant he felt it, had begun to fight, and now, without the slightest delay,! he turned on the boat. The way he did it, the abrupt- ness and boldness of it, was disconcerting. He nearly had it. The fear of the men as they pulled was all that saved it. Even as it was, the rope went slack, and he got a fore-leg over. That complicated matters. It broke the force that was being brought to bear on his neck, and the Reavy fur also helped him. What possibility there had been of choking him into submission was spoiled. Moreover, it brought the rope down to where he could get at it with his teeth. There was only one thing to do, and that was to stop and loosen up on him until it could be extricated. It spoke well for the keeper that he acted as decidedly as he did, but it brought the boat again into danger. It slowed, but the bear did not. Nor was he obliging enough to raise his paw again and let the rope slip free. They could not outmaneuver him. He almost outmaneuvered them. More than once they barely slid free of his furious rushes. He could execute them in the water almost as an ordi- nary bear could on land. Whenever they did not keep him occupied he began to bite again at the rope. It was while they were still working that he got what he wanted. They started away from him on the jump, for they were get- ting used to it now, but the jump was their undoing. There was just enough slack on the line so that, as it came taut with a jerk, it yanked them back a little, offsetting the pull of the oars. Before they could get clear, a sweep of the paw had caught them, carrying away a part of the stern. Tt not only smashed things, but the animal held on, and, in the face of all that could be done to beat him back, began to fight his way aboard. The crew, excited, did their best to row, but could not draw away. Had it not been for the boy, they must inevitably have been sw amped. He closed in on the bear from 1924 behind,and went at him with a daring born of the emergency, belaboring him with a piece of oar that the keeper had broken over him. An instant sufficed to do the work. The animal turned in a fury on its new assailant. Its leg was over the stern, and, as it turned, the keeper twitched free the rope. “Row!” he yelled. And again, as before, the men responded. The bear had not time to reach the boy before he was hauled back away from him. His fur was not enough now to keep him from choking, and he slowly began to strangle. They could have killed him, but did not. The only way he could ease up on himself was to swim, and they managed to adjust their pace just right so the strain would keep him coming, without completely suffocating him. In the end they got him to the steamer, and, with more ropes, they hoisted him back into his cage, temporarily repaired to receive him. The captain drew a sigh of relief. “So much for so much!” he observed. “‘T’m glad we don’t get them every day!” The boat was an hour late into Plattsburg, and a big truck from the Miner Estate, the bear’s destination, was already in waiting. The keeper said nothing at the time about what Roland had done, but two or three days later Mr. Miner himself met the boat at the dock. From his pocket he drew some bills of yellow denominations, and handed them to Roland. “Use them wisely, my boy!” he adjured. “T believe you will!” But Roland did not take them. ‘The Miner Estate was built up about a great stock farm, and was one of the show places of the Cham- plain Valley. Its resources were not used sel- fishly, but generously. All that wealth could accomplish for a country community in the way of social and civic betterment was being accomplished. \ One of the farm’s experiments was of an educational order. Expensive model buildings, containing the last word in equip- ment, had been erected. ‘The best instructors that money could secure were brought there. Its advantages were open to all employees and their families. The boy, with the money of- fered him, refused it. “Tf you don’t mind, sir,”’ he said, looking its — frankly in the eye, ‘‘I would rather have a job.” Mr. Miner regarded him thoughtfully. “Why?” he asked, at length. “Tt’s the school, sir. I want an educa- tion.” And he was soon, with a college course in view for the future, on the way to hav- ing one. x Aro | 37 Why Indian Joe Didn’t Need a Towel By F. F. BRADLEY (Famous Boy Leader and Sportsman) E were hungry! And it seemed a mighty good place to stop for lunch after portaging around the heavy rapids of the Kenogami River. Our guides, Indian Joe, a Chippewa Indian, and Dad Mathe, a French Canadian trapper who had seen experience in various arctic relief expeditions, opened their packs. They certainly were one surprised pair of guides. There we were, well on our way to Hudson Bay, and Indian Joe and my pal George Powers had no towels, or anything else that might serve as a towel. Dad had only a small remnant, and mine was none too large. Yet we had checked over our packs a dozen times, and had left content that we had every necessity needed in traversing’ the wilderness. However we did have plenty of Ivory Soap. Joe, who was the official cook of the ex- pedition and naturally remarkably clean. considering his scanty opportunities to learn the amenities of civilization, removed a portion of his clothing and went down to the stream to scrub thoroughly. We forgot about him. Presently he came back, breathing heavily and as dry as though he had been rubbed down with a dozen towels. Loudly blowing and puffing. he walked up and down the bank making re- marks} in his broken dialect which indicated that he had no need for a towel. In his own speech he told us that he could take a bath properly without the use of towels so long as he had this floating Ivory Soap, because the soap would not get lost on the bottom, but would float down the rushing stream, making it necessary for him to run 100 yards or so at breakneck speed down the bank to catch it. And by that time the exercise had dried him off and he didn’t want a towel anyhow. IVORY SOAP 99 44/10007 Pure IT FLOATS NEXT MONTH— Don't miss the fourth of this series of TRUE STORIES BY FAMOUS AUTHORS —‘The Last Match But One," by Dillon Wallace. Dear Bruce: Don’t that camp picture make your ‘‘mouth water’? Good days are coming! I’m telling all the fellows how much BOYS’ LIFE will help in camping plans. I get ‘em to subscribe now so as not to miss the Camp Numbers coming. ment to boost your BOYS’ LIFE sales? ; Your friend P.S. Know any fellows who would like to join us as BOYS’ LIFE Salesmen? Tell ’em to write to me care of BOYS’ LIFE here at 200 Fifth Ave., New York. Are you using this argu-

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HE accompanying scenes are photo- graphs taken on a wonderful wild-animal sanctuary which the writer of this has just discovered, a dot of rocks and trees off the coast of British Columbia, where, un- heard of in the outside world, a veteran old prospector living lonely on this island has achieved one of the most remarkable feats in the history of man dealing with wild creatures by winning the confidence of hun- dreds of absolutely wild deer so that now they come from considerable distance to visit him. One photograph shows a wild deer challeng- more. The next year there were thirty. To-day, six years later, hundreds come to the island. They come here during the shoot- ing season, knowing they will be protected. The does here give birth to their young. In the early summer the island is alive with little ones like

BOYS’ LIFE Wonderful Island of Deer By Francis Dickie wild and came to maturity in the fear of man, Most of them will vanish at sight of a stranger. A little group of them are seen enjoying a treat of corn stalks in photograph five. The animals at times come in numbers and hang around the house, as seen in photograph six.

those shown in photograph at the right ) f

ing another. In the mating season the bucks some- times fight to the death. Another photograph shows the _ re- markable man,

T. B. Brazil, and one of the wild- tame deer which trusts absolutely to him. On the island Mr. Brazil has built a number of tables for the deer near his house. Each deer has a separate bowl, and they have wonderfully good table manners. This is the first wild-deer restaurant in the world. A Seeger vap shows one of these tables with a ew of the deer feeding. That animals communicate with each other is strikingly proven by the fact that when the man first took up his residence on this island, where he is the only human being, he only saw two deer. He put out feed for them, and after weeks of time got their confidence. In the autumn they brought five

HE manuscripts by J. Davis Reed, Hilton Bradshaw Rufty, Jr., and John F. Farrey, winning the second, third and fourth prizes in the Boys’ Lire contest “How Can Scout- ing Bring Peace and Good Will to All Man- kind?” are printed below. The winner of the first prise in this contest was Robert N. Stretch of South Bend, Indiana, whose manuscript was published in the February issue. OY SCOUTS are trained to be fair and just, to treat everyone like he wishes himself to be treated. Everyone is acknowledged equal in rights by the Declaration of Independence. Although this specifically applies only to Americans, everyone knows that it is an estab- lished fact in all of the enlightened countries of the world. Scouts recognize this truth and stand for a fair deal for every person or nation. The Boy Scouts of to-day will be the leaders in their respective countries to-morrow, and be- cause of their scout training in fair play they will see that every nation is treated as it should be. Ifa nation is treated fairly there will be no cause for war. The Revolutionary War is a direct example of the unfair treatment of The deer come and go at will, swimming to the little island from a near-by larger one and from the mainland. The minute they are parted from their protector they cease to trust human beings. It has not been any easy work for the man to thus establish himself in the perfect trust of the hundreds of deer that now have come to accept his friendship. It has taken him nearly a decade to do what he has done, but now the deer are coming to him in ever-greater numbers. It certainly is an achievement which ranks among the most remarkable in the annals of natural history, for it must be fully borne in born mind that all these deer were in the

In BOYS’ LIFE Prize Contests a nation. Nearly all wars are started either directly or indirectly by this cause. Another thing which a scout will not stand for is a bully. He is not one himself and tries his best to restrain anyone who is. A bully in the guise of a nation causes many wars. But if the citizens of a country were trained not to be bullies the nation would not be oppressive and tyrannical. The Boy Scout Movement is giv- ing such training in many countries. Conse- quently its influence will soon be very great in preventing wars, especially when the former scouts are old enough to run their respective governments. If Germany and Austria had possessed more scouts it is very probable that the World War would never have started. The Boy Scout Movement is inspiring thou- sands of boys all over the world to have the highest ideals. The value of this training is incalculable. A nation of men with only the highest ideals would not stoop to do some crafty act which benefits themselves, but at the same time makes enemies of some other people or nation. A nation with high ideals would not cause an oppressive war for the sake of added territory, political power or pecuniary benefits.

A group of deer enjoying a treat of orchard pru- nings—One wild deer be- comes tame—A_ close-up of a challenger—The main dining tabie While the animals ar well fed at the open- air restaurant, some of them insist in coming to the house and knock- ing on the door with their head or horns or rattling the door knob with their teeth, in this way begging for extra food delicacies such as oatmeal. One great buck came in this manner every night after dark for a period of a year, often forcing the man to get out of bed to feed him. This is only one case of how these wild creatures of the fir depths show their dependence. The buck’s action is another example that animals communicate with each other, for it must have learned the coming to the house from other deer that had been there previously. The evidences of the deer trust on the little rocky island shows how little we really know of the animal kingdom. It is only rare souls like Mr. Brazil, who have something in their nature which makes animals instinctively _ trust them, who occasionally prove to the outside world that we are kindred with the wild things, and that they will love us if we will let them. - A nation with high ideals would do its best to insure peace and prosperity for everyone, individually and collectively. Probably the most valuable aid which Scout- ing renders to the peace of the world is its international influence. There are scouts in all of the enlightened countries of the world. Every scout is a brother to every other scout. The last International Jamboree of scouts held in London demonstrated the friendliness of the scouts toward each other. This Jamboree and others to come will play a large part in bring- ing the nations closer together. On these trips the boys learn to respect the views of others. They learn the customs, manners and opinions of other nations, all of which tend to make them feel more friendly to each other. When these scouts are capable of managing their govern- ments, all the nations will be friendly and peaceful, because their leading men know and respect the opinions and customs of the other nations.—J. Davis REED, JR., Portsmouth, Va

Although I cannot say that the Boy Scout Movement is the very best method of bringing about World Peace, I can voice my opinion that it could be a great factor in doing so. March

sete ae

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ng e- ip he Ort RD ete oe DO Hm i-—— | = ! Ste lad FOR ALL BOYS In many countries in entirely different parts of the world there are Boy Scouts. They do their good turns daily and strive to do what is right, impressing upon people the importance and value of the Scout Organization. In this country they have obtained a Na- tional recognition. Boys are joining the Organization daily and are helping their friends to do so too. They are joined together in a World-Wide Brotherhood—a Union of Strength and Peace. : Every new Scout makes this Union stronger; it gets the fathers of the Scouts together, they realizing that their sons are friends and they are friends toward each other. But it is not~so necessary to prepare for present wars as it is to prepare for future wars. Therefore it is not so necessary to bring the fathers of the Scouts together as it is to bring the Scouts themselves. The Scout of to-day is the man of*to-morrow. If all the boys of different nations became Scouts, then, bound together as friends and brothers by a Universal Oath, they would pro- claim peace as their standard. In the June issue of Boys’ Lire there appeared an article on the World Brotherhood of Boys. In this article there were several appeals for letters by foreign Scouts. This is a splendid way to keep Boy Scouts of different nations in constant communication with each other. In simple words this article I am writing is—‘‘ Make as many boys as possible Scouts, then when they go into Manhood, being once Scouts, they will seek Peace and not War.”— Hitton BRADSHAW RurFty, JRr., Richmond, Va. Why the Boy Scout Movement is best able to bring about World Peace is because the boy scouts are supposed to bring about brotherly love for one another. And if this would be adopted, as the boy scouts are trying to do, I believe war would be abandoned. First of all, to become a boy scout you must take an oath. That is: On my honor I will do my best (1) To do my duty to God and my country and obey the scout laws; (2) To help other people at all times; (3) To keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight. Now if everybody would even try to live up to that oath we would not, have the feeling of not liking one another, as it is at the present day. And another reason why so many feelings are hurt is through the idea of getting rich quick by different methods, such as gambling, cheating and doing the other fellow out of his money by your clever wits. The last mentioned really comes under cheating your * brother friend, but lots of people do not con- sider it as that, they just call it a little matter of business and they say business must come before brotherly love. That is a very bad mistake, as in my estimation it only creates a hard feeling in the bottom of your heart when you find that he is not true to you and then when you find that he is not going to be true to you, you will soon find yourself not true to him, and after a while you will draw non-deceivers on with you in some kind of a secret organization, and he will do the same, and it keeps up until finally it is what we are trying to abandon—that is, this dreadful thing named war. And this can only be aban- doned by brotherly love for one another the whole world over. And to have brotherly love we can not have secrets from one another and must not pick out just the ones we like, but like everybody, which a boy scout does. And a boy scout does not have any grudges against anyone for not thinking the same as he does, for he knows everyone has their right to think the way they want to so long as they don’t put war behind their thoughts. So when a boy becomes a boy scout he is taught to love and like his fellow brother, and his fellow brother not only means the crowd he likes to go with but everyone, whether rich or poor, Christian or not; but everyone. So if every boy becomes a boy scout and lives up to his duties we will all be happy, as a scout is cheerful, and if we all are happy we will be loving one another, and if we all loved one another we would not want to fight, so that would end war—JoHn F. Farrey, Miami Beach, Fla. AURICE FRANK SCRIBNER,of Water- loo, Wisconsin, is the winner of the second prize in the Boys’ LiFe contest of ten questions which was announced in the October, 1923, issue. His manuscript is printed below. A complete list of prise winners in this contest was given in the February issue of Boys’ LIFE. 1. What do you like best in this issue of Boys’ Lire? The article that had the greatest appeal to me in this issue was the Wild Life on the Sono- ran Desert. It is the story for any boy that loves wild life. It tells the lives the animals 1924 and birds live in their native environment. It shows the hardships and misery, the joy and happiness of living there in the terrific heat of the sun. It reveals to us what the advance of pale-face civilization has done—the extinction of some animals and how they are depriving them now of their native element—desert— and driving them from their feeding grounds, into extermination. Some of us always thought that the desert was as barren of life as it is of plants, but here the secret is lain open to our eyes and understanding. 2. What regular feature or department in Boys’ Lire has appealed to you most? The department [ like best is Dan Beard’s Scouting Section, because in this a whole lot can be learned, the way to do things, what to use when hiking, fishing and all sports of the out-of-doors, the natural playground. 3- What serial or story published in Boys’ Lire during the past year have you liked best? The Black Wolf Pack. Weren’t those the days when we were transferred from our chairs to the mountains, and shuddered when the name of the wild hunter was mentioned. We saw the great black wolves as they circled their quarry, and we heard them snarl and witnessed the gleam of fangs in the radiance of the lan- tern, on the night when they killed the wild hunter on his very veranda. 4. What general improvements would you recommend? The improvement I would advocate would be more stories and serials on animals, so we could get a broader view of the lives of them, have an insight on their modes of living and have more of these stories illustrated by a mas- ter at the trade—Charles Livingston Bull. 5. What new feature would you like to see included in the magazine? The thing that I always wished would come and waited for was a drawing and painting or a story-writing contest, but it never came, but I hope that in the near future—very near future—I will have my wish come to reality. 6. Give the names of authors of the popu- larity of Zane Grey and'Arthur B. Reeve you would like to see invited to write for Boys’ LIFE. James Oliver Curwood and James Williard Shultz. Is there a man that has the magic power of transferring one in dreams to the very land where the story is, live the lives of the charac- ters themselves. Listen to the cry of the wolf pack as they follow on the tracks of the quarry, see the great white moon, the stars cold and snapping in the night skies, and the flickering light of the aurora borealis flashing -in the north. The great white owl’s hollow hoot carries on the cold crisp air of the northern nights; the howl of a wolf from a knoll wailing forth a cry of lamentation, of grief and loneli- ness, in the face of the moon. All these are wit- nessed in Curwood’s animal stories. If one of Mr. Curwood’s animal stories were published in the Boys’ Lire and illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull, the circulation of the paper would grow and the boys who read it would forget the cares of school and life and live a life of enchantment and dreams in the folds of a story that has its mysteries and tragedies. The Indian stories by James Williard Shultz would take us back to the days when the red- skin hunted redskin, and a scalp taken was a great honor. Days when the buffalo roamed the plains in numbers uncountable; when the Indians endured a sacred fast to bring down a protector to give them success in battle and hunt. Those were the days—and they will never come again. Only through stories can we live the days as they were once lived, and Mr. Shultz is the man to bring them back to us. 7. What does your father or mother, school teacher or Sunday School teacher think of Boys’ LiFe? They think that the Boys’ Lire is a maga- zine that brings the outdoors in. It teaches morality, is educational and it is published in such a way that it interests every boy and man who reads it. It is beyond doubt the best and most educational magazine that is published, and every real boy should have his name on the subscription list and a copy destined to land in his waiting hand every month. They even are engrossed in the thrill- ing, gripping stories that appear in the num- bers, and many enjoyable hours are spent in looking the magazine over and over and study- ing its contents. 8. How many boys read your copy of the magazine? How many other people? Two boys read my copy and they say that nothing can compete with the magazine for illustrations and stories and they are always anxious for the next number. Even two grown- ups are interested and ask and wait for the copies to come, and I lend them because I (Concluded on page 56) 9 Old Sown Co * Dig deep, man! Dig deep!” ATCH the “Old Town Canoes” cut through the water. The winner was nearly a length behind till it took a sudden spurt and nosed out the two leaders. sport! Talk about There is no canoe like an “Old Town” when it comes to speed. “Old Towns” are patterned after real Indian models, The red man built speed and grace and steadiness into his canoe, “Old Town” master craftsmen have kept the Indian lines, but made ’em much stronger—better constructed. Paddling a canoe certainly builds up the arm and shoulder muscles. Did you ever shake hands with a fellow who has done a lot of canoeing? You bet, a grip of iron. “Old Town Canoes” are light and easy to handle. They are low in price too. $64 up. From dealer or factory. The 1924 catalog is beautifully illustrate all models in full colors. Write for your OLD TOWN CA 493 Middle Street, Old T, ‘It shows fe copy to-day. E CoO. n, Maine, U.S. A. 39 With the aid of the first three lessons, whj phone, it is possible to learn to ay the popular music and take a place in, Ber b you will become very popular ingfo 9 Boesth Of all musical instruniefits, the #@@scher Saxophone is the easiest to master. It is a boy’s “Ideal” Instru- ment, one to which he takes naturally, for it fully satisfies that craving every boy has to personally produce music. It fascinates him, it tempts his ambition and brings out and develops his latent musical talent. It is unrivalled for home entertain- ment, school, church and lodge. In big demand for orchestra dance music. Easy Payments—Free Trial If unable to pay cash, our easy pa ment plan will make it very convenient for your ather or mother to Boys and Girl: ‘ale in f or orche borhood ae i Saxophone Buescher-Grand Trumpet CED Selina Especially easy to blow, with an improved bore and new proportions. With the mute in, it blows so softly and sweetly that practice will not annoy anyone. A splendid home instrument. (14) YW earn Quickly seg ‘Free (upon request) with each new Saxo- phour. In a few weeks you can be playing a. By organizing a Saxophone quartet of your own des having a lot of pleasure and earning an income. 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The Red Squirrel In spite of his good looks—a terribly de- structive pest. Mur- ders 200 song birds every year. dest#o binds Help ill thi prey fhat n and rin gar Yoq’ll find the rifle for downj mara or hafvks ev American walnut magazine, easy, sure every yea se fierce little beasts ens. Safe and with Jyour is at your sBoulder. i repeats like lightning—the bolt justg ing n Su ina! thengu and If yor Then 14— tro you .22 Repeater. Ask at your dealer’s or write direct for teresting catalog. ARMS CORPORATION SAVAGE Dept. 353 Utica, N. Y. Owners and operators of the J.Seevens Arms 4 Company a new one. ’t beat a Savage he Savage Sporter ound blued barrel, genuine stock, fvarnish finish, pistol grip, pfive shot interchangeable load- ing magazine action—-now made in three calibers. odel 23A .22 cal... $19.50 Model 23B .25-20 cal.. 23.50 odel 23C .32-20 cal... 23.50 is robber 200 young r of urder young song birds the Savage Sporter just this work—it will bring Hing red squirrels, crows ry time. uick—you work the safety ht thumb when the rifle ides aJong—half-cock on the open- ovem@nt; full cock on the close. loading, too—just push our in- e of five cartridges—shoot MA Model 14- Savage .22 Repeater — solid breech solid top—noexposed parts. Sturdy—accurate. Horned Toads (1) How does the horned toad foil snakes? (2) Does the horned toad emit a stream of blood out of his eye when irritated? (3) When will a calf play ‘“possum?”— RANDOLPH O’LENA. (1) I doubt if the horned toad can foil snakes. (2) Yes, some species can shoot blood out of the eye. Personally I have never seen them do it. (3) When it is first born. From Our English Cousins I WISH to ask you a few questiqns and I should be very glad if you would kindly | answer them in your page in Boys’ Lire. I think they will interest many English readers especially the members of the rst Gillwell Park troop. At our reunion the other week-end we were | visited by some Indians and Col. McCoy. The latter gave a yarn on Indian Sign Lan- guage which has rather interested us. We wish to learn more about it and therefore I ask | you my questions. Can you give me particulars of the name, author, publisher and price of any books dealing with “Sign Language?” I believe that they can only be obtained in your country because I have been unlucky in my inquiries here. I should like to take this opportunity in saying that the most interesting pages in Boys’ Lire to us in England are yours and the National Council News. Yours scoutingly, L. PARMENTER. Annual report of the Bureau of Ethnology, by J. W. Powell, 1879-80, Government Print- ing Office, Washington, D. C. Also, “Indian Sign Language,” by Clark, published by L. R Hammersley, Philadelphia, Pa. This latter book is probably out of print but may be ob- tained from dealers selling rare books. Write to The Cadmus Book Shop, 312 West 34th Street, New York City. Thank you for your interest in this page. Wait a While AM anxious to be a scout and would like to know how old you have to be, and if you have to pay.—R. L. Evanrt. P.S. Iam ro years old. I am glad to know you want to join the biggest boys’ club in the world,-but you will have to wait two years. No boy may join till he is twelve. Why not get a Boys’ Hand- book now, and start reading about scout ac- tivities and practicing your tenderfoot tests? That will help shorten the time. Scouts pay a | I had been without all day. registration fee of 50 cents. Wearing the Miniature Eagle ILL you please tell me in the Boys’ Lire where to wear the Eagle Miniature Pin?— N. M. The Eagle Miniature. Pin is intended for civilian dress, and may be worn on the lapel of the coat, or on the vest. Indian Languages ILL you please tell me where I can get a book on the Languages of some different tribes of North American Indians. Is there a dictionary written in the Sioux Language or Comanche or any tribe?—Scout JAmes Linps- LEY and ScouT EpWARD KETTLE. ““\ Lenape English Dictionary,’”’ published by The Philadelphia Historical Society, Phila- delphia, Pa. “Indian Place Names on Long Island,” published by Putnam of New York City. “Chinook Jargon, and How to Use It,” published by Ranier Printing Company of Seattle, Wash. (116—3rd Avenue, South). “Indian Sign Language,” published by L. R. Hammersley Company, Philadelphia. You Get Out What You Put In I WONDER if I really am getting anything out of the Boy Scouts. Dad said if I was putting anything in it I would get something out of it. I take a short hike over the hills every after- noon. , As I work in the morning, I have no chance to go on an “over nighter” and cook my lunch, but I take some “spuds” and ham over on the hill and cook it and make out like I get to go camp- ing about once every three years. Will it pay me to continue this kind of scouting? I can swim real well and run a boat. I have just passed the first class test and like ordering the badge and being a full fledged first class scout. Please answer and tell me what would en- courage me more in Scouting. FRED COFFER. The best part of Scouting is still ahead of you. I agree with your father; you will get out of it what you put into it. And so far, Fred, you have not been putting in as much as I know you can. Camping is not all of Scouting; neither is outdoor cooking nor hiking, although these are interesting and worth while. Scouting is something deep in a fellow’s heart as well. It is character. A scout has the quiet power that comes from knowledge. He practices self control; he never flinches in danger for he knows that his own safety and the safety perhaps of others depend upon his coolness. He is kind to everything that lives. He prides himself on his Daily Good Turn. He has brother scouts all over the world, and he is a friend to all. A scout knows that people expect more of him than they do of other boys, and he tries to make the word “Scout” worthy of the respect of people whose opin- ions have value. I am glad you have won your first class badge, for now one of the most interesting fields in Scouting, the Merit Badge, is open to you. Start working now for the Star Scout Badge. Living in the country, you have many more opportunities than your city brothers Get our your Handbook and look over the list. Decide which you want, and send for the pamphlet. A season of real fun and profit is ahead of you. Some that will appeal to you particularly are Agriculture (you can do a lot of preliminary work on it right now), Astron- omy (one of the best outdoor sports I know), Bird Study (very early in your locality the birds will return, and some stay all winter), Botany (this will lend interest to your hikes), Cooking (you can start right in now), Garden- ing (start your seeds in flats, and transplant as soon as the weather is warm enough), Stalking, Pathfinding and Pioneering (now is a fine time for these), Personal Health, Poultry Keeping, Dairying; how about a colony of bees? Requirements for a Star Scout appear on page 65 of your Handbook. Write me again and tell me how you are getting along. I was a country boy myself. I know there is a great deal more in Scouting for you. Good luck! Bears in Illinois 1. Do you have to be a scout to attend your woodcraft school? 2. Where is there a good place to camp in East Central Illinois? 3. How many boys would you suggest for a bugle and drum corps or band? 4. How do you make an Indian warbonnet? 5. Where can I get leather for Indian suits and moccasins and how much is it? 6. Where could I get a small cub bear for our patrol which is “The Bears’”?—A Scout. 1. No. 2. Write to Scout Executive George B. Stephenson, Room go6, 37 So. Wabash Ave., Chicago, Ill. 3. It depends upon the size of your troop; four bugles and four drummers will make a good band. Personally I like a fife and drum better. 4. That is already described in Boys’ Lire. See February, 1923, Number, “Pawwawing Days.” 5. From the Supply Department, Boy Scout Headquarters, 200 Fifth Avenue, New York City. Sheepskin is $1.50 a skin. One skin will make a pair of moccasins. 6. Write Bartel’s Animal Store, Cortlandt St., x. . From a Good Troop A new armory has just been put up. Could you please tell me through Boys’ Lire how we could get a room there for our troop meet- ings? Scout Tom. I congratulate your troop on its fine record. 1. Find out the name of one of the officers in the armory, and where you could see him. Tell him about your troop and ask him to help you. Or you might ask your scoutmaster or one BOYS’ LIFE of the members of your troop committee to talk to the officer. Seascouts Yo Ho! e. How can I form a Seascout troop? Must a boy be a first class Boy Scout ao ste becoming a Seascout? 3. Where can I buy a Seascout handbook? —CLIFFORD SCHNITZLER. As you do not give me your address, | pe give you much advice about forming a Seascout troop. There may be a ship near your locality. Write to your Scout Executive. Seascouting requirements are being re- veel now. Previously, two second-class scouts were allowed to each ship. 3- From the Supply Department, Avenue, New York City, for 6oc. 200 Fifth Arousing Interest 1. What is the farthest you have thrown a tomahawk and the farthest it has been thrown? 2. Could the scouts here get the picture entitled ‘‘Deerslayer” and if possible how? 3. How could I get the scouts here into the real Scout Movement? I seem to take to Scouting and have studied a lot, but most of the scouts don’t know what Scouting really is. Most of the troop here is composed of farmer boys and it makes it hard. I. 25 paces. 2. The Mingo Picture Corp. are the pro- ducers of ‘‘ Deerslayer.’’ Ask the manager of your local movie theater and have your friends ask him for it. He can get it if he wants to. 3- Read some of the excellent letters on arousing interest that have been appearing in this column recently. Study your “ Boys’ Hand- book,” especially Chapter One. Talk to the boys about the high ideals and the good fun that they will find in Scouting. Stopping the Leaks 1. I have a tent which is not waterproof. Is there any mixture or solution for making tents waterproof? 2. Will you please mention some book or books that are all right for a boy who is inter- ested in taxidermy to read and study— RoBERT Coats. 1. Takea gallon or two gallons of turpentine and one or two cakes of paraffin, drug-store size. Chip the paraffin fairly fine; dump it into the turpentine. Place the turpentine in a pail and set same in a larger pail or tub of hot water. The hot water will heat the turpentine and the turpentine will melt the paraffin. Stir thoroughly and renew your supply of hot water if necessary. Then pile your tent into a tub and pour in the turpentine and paraffin mix- ture. Work the tent all over thoroughly with your hands, so that every fiber gets well satur- ated. You must work fast, however, as the paraffin begins to thicken as it cools; and work out of doors in a breeze if possible, as the fumes of the turpentine will surely make you sick if you try it indoors. When you have the tent thoroughly saturated hang it up to dry. It is not necessary to wring the tent when you hang it up. Just let it drip. If you use too much paraffin the tent may look a little dirty after it dries, but it will be all right after you have used it once or twice. 2. The Merit Badge Pamphlet on Taxidermy will help you and it has a list of reference books on the last page. All About Pigeons 1. Please tell me of any book about the care, food and training of homing pigeons, also the publisher and price. 2. What is the average price of a young hom- ing pigeon and where can they be obtained? 3. Would training them on the roof of an apartment house 12 stories high make any difference?—A. E. 1. There is a book called “All About Pigeons” which will give you the information you need. I do not know the author, but as it is a standard work you can easily locate it. Did you see the article in the August Boys’ Lire? 2. You should buy a pair of pigeons, as one bird will pine away alone. The cost is from $3.00 to $10 according to the quality for a pair. Bartel’s Animal Store, Cortlandt St., New York City, will sell them to you and give you advice on training them. 3. Yes. I am sorry you did not want me to know who you are. (Concluded on page 50) Ma rch ‘on. pos! less as sty bea tha viv! bef wit thr

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a

FOR ALL BOYS

Tiger Royal (Concluded from page 17) |

necessary and he hastily flung it close to the wall of the stupa and then threw a handful of dirt over his lunch-paper to kill its scent. The same peculiar sensations he had had at sight of the tiger’s pug-mark on the grass assailed him now. A queer tightness would persist in gripping his throat, and one hand went up there to relieve it, as he peered around over the rim of masonry intently. He was curious about his courage and seemed to regard it with a detached inter- est, wondering whether Reason, which told him that there was nothing to fear with a good rife in his hands, or Panic, which was urging him to bolt out of here as fast as his legs could carry him, would prevail. The bird uproar through the ravine in- creased in its scolding intensity—and then a gorgeous orange-and-black-striped shape, with snowy white chest, glided silently up over the south rim of the platform and stood there, superb, magnificent. It was Royal! Bob crouched until he could just see him through a crack between some broken bricks tumbled on the top of his mound. Royal did not so much as look toward the stupa. The wind was from the southwest and he stood fac- ing it, sniffing the air, his long and bristly whiskers vibrating like sensitive antenne. Water drops gleamed in tiny points of fire around the long white beard of his chin, at the ends of the snowy hairs of his belly. He raised his great white-and-black-striped head, with the blunt, buff nose dominating it, high in the air, his white forepaws together like two posts. One long, testing sniff of all the air currents of the ravine, and then suddenly and noise- lessly he lay down. Bob caught a green flash as Royal turned, once, to look toward the stupa, and for a moment his heart stopped beating. He dared not move an eyelash before that keen gaze. The realization was only too vivid within him that here was a Bengal tiger before him, not a hundred yards away, and with no friendly steel bars between him and it. Royal could cover that distance in just about three seconds. Nothing but his own nerve and the power of his rifle protected him, Bob knew, and right now he was shaking like a leaf in spite of his most desperate efforts to quiet himself. Royal swung his head and looked up the ravine. What a superb creature! thought Bob as he watched, striving to pull himself together. The birds did not think so; for they kept up their scolding clamor undiminished. To them he was the enemy of all the jungle, a marauder feared and detested, yet lord over them all. Royal looked at them and all about him with the arrogant gaze of utter fearlessness, and then rolled over on his side. Bob realized that he was trapped! Trapped by this unconscious beast, trapped here until nightfall. Royal had come up from the creek after his afternoon bath and was sunning himself until the shadows of evening came, when he would go hunting. There was no escape, Bob realized, save by taking matters into his own hands and starting something with his rifle. He raised his head above the masonry and stepped up one step, drawing his rifle up cau- tiously with him. Royal’s back lay, a long and lean thing on the platform flagging, like a folded fur rug, the great round head stretched out luxuriantly with its striped crown toward him. Bob raised the rifle, ever so slowly, and tried to take aim with that head for a mark. The front sight more than covered it! But by no effort of his will could he steady it to remain poised there long enough to pull trigger with any certainty. He lowered the weapon again, breathing hard, considering. Father’s strictures on the foolhardiness of youth came home to him with redoubled force. One shot! After that, the Unknown! Unless accurately placed and a vital hit, Royal would instantly charge, and he would have just three seconds in which to place the second shot—all the time lacing that nerve-shattering charging song before which only men of iron nerves succeeded in standing fast and not bolting in terror—let alone placing the second shot vitally! Could he risk it? : Not for a million dollars! one side of him kept insisting. . . . Pshaw!—Place the first shot well and there’ll be nothing to it! the other side argued impatiently. Bob felt himself being fairly wrenched apart by these two impulses, ‘‘What would father do about it?” he finally asked himself in his extremity. The shadowy image of Father seemed to take his place in answer to that question. Bob found 1924 he could not imagine father taking such an unfair advantage of the unconscious Royal as shooting him down where he lay, like an assas- sin. A sharp whistle; then up would go Royal’s kingly head and it would be man to beast between them. Good! so far. Had he the nerve to do that? ““Yes!”’ muttered Bob, “I'll do that much, anyhow!” It made him feel somehow better. Also it left it up to Royal whether to attack, himself, and so bring down retribution on his own head. Fair play, Bob decided, even if taking his life in his hands to do it. Shooting at Royal where he lay was one of those things father wouldn’t do. Bob’s mind quickly crys- tallized to action. Royal should have his chance to fight or run away; Bob could not stay here much longer and get home before night- fall. He pursed up his lips to whistle. At that moment Royal himself leapt to his feet in one bound. A hoarse grunt came from him, as he ran a short distance in fright along the platform edge, then a savage roar and his tail went up as he turned with the quickness of a cat, to launch into the long bounds of the charge. The boom of a rifle down in the ravine crashedinto the continuous reverberating bellow of his roars; then Bob, himself tremen- dously excited, swung the bead of his own rifle a yard in front of his chest in mid-air and fired. He was nearly kicked out of the crypt mouth by the recoil. Royal seemed to leap at least twenty feet up into the air, his paws thrashing out convulsively. Bob forced himself forward and fired again on a blind chance as the tiger descended. There was a huge crash in the underbrush; coughing roars jerkily and convulsively ut- tered; crackling of bushes and dry bamboos. Bob ran forward hurriedly and stopped at the edge of the platform, looking down. Two men were coming up out of the ravine, warily, rifles at a ready, and the taller one waved to him silently not to go nearer. A gold and black heap lay huddled in the bushes, a white forepaw sticking out of a nest of crushed bamboo which quivered incessantly. Presently the men moved nearer and Bob ventured down, taking his cue from them. “My word!—Tight corner, that!’ he heard the major’s voice saying. ‘Must have got our wind. Both of us were tangled up so we couldn’t shoot—I had to fire from the hip!” breathed Mr. Forsyth heavily. “Pure luck, if I hit him!—What are you doing here, Bob?’”’ he broke off to inquire sternly. “*I was exploring the stupa, sir-——’ “Exploring the stupa/—and without asking my permission!” burst out Mr. Forsyth wrath- fully. ‘‘ You’re new to this country, Bob, and ought to have had more sense. Suppose this tiger ——” na? “T say!” interrupted the major, who had been examining the carcass of Royal, “‘you didn’t hit him at all, Forsyth! There’s only one shot here, left foreleg, heart, and right lung, where it passed out. Side shot—we were facing him. Did you fire, young ’un?”’ he asked Bob excitedly. “Sure did!—and did I really hit him?” cried Bob delightedly. “Rather! Very decent shooting, sir! I ‘didn’t fire at all; both of us were stymied in a lot of this thorn bamboo, where the swine had us at his mercy, y’know.” “Lucky shot!” commented Mr. Forsyth drily. “Still it makes no difference to us, does it, Bob? You were an idiot to come here alone, and you knew it, didn’t you? You'll take your medicine when we get back home.” “Yes, sir!” said Bob cheerily—for he had shot his first tiger and had oceans more confi- dence now! The good times were only just ahead, when all this got straightened out and simmered down in his father’s mind. “T have something to show you up at the stupa, too, sir,” he added after the major had completed the ceremony of printing with his finger-tip on his forehead the blood of his first tiger—for the benefit of Shans and Burmese alike. “All in good time!” grunted his father. “You seem to have distinguished yourself to-day, though, Bob!” he laughed jovially. “Ho there, Po Hkmer—the skinning knives!” he called to the Shan shikari, who waited back in the underbrush. Bob set to at Royal with a will. It was all right; he had made his first step, rather fool- ishly to be sure, but had come through all right and was that much ahead to face his first real tiger charge.

ea soles and he¢ls of leather

HO has the sore fgtt at the end of the hike? Why is it that offen a big husky will limp through fhe last painjil miles with blistered feet while sore little chapghat looks about half as tough is plugging along witf feet as free from blisters and sorenessfas when he £tarted? It’s ngt a questign of tough feet. Look at the soles of/their shogs. You can bet that four times out of fave the ladfwith sore feet has soles and heels of a sulstitute fgt leather. LeatHer is thefstuff to walk on. Soldiers learned during tthe war fhat leather lets feet breathe —keeps them fif and heAlthy. Here is a bit from an officer’s diary:

Somewhere near Udine, Italy, Nov. 5, 1918. “Fér upwardg of two hundred miles we have chased the hor- <7 un, Trifiged every inch of the way and through seas of mu ; ‘ “Sept in # house, in a bed and with my shoes off last night for fhe first Zime in two weeks. Caught a cold. Slept with the Skipper, pog@ egg. He pulled off two of the worst-looking shoes andfidisplayed two of the worst-looking feet it has ever been my fprivileBe to see. Blistered, sore and puffy looking. He staged ouf with a pair of yo rage angen | new shoes with Blank* sol@s andffeels. ‘Just the thing for a hike,’ says the Old Man. Betg pofr I wore the regular field shoe with honest leather solgs, ang the old feet are, well, tired but happy.” *A sBhbstitfite for leather.

Ask afy athlete what sort of shoes he wears both on the/field and on the street. Ask your family doct@y what sort of shoes are best for you. The answer is always leather, leather for comfort, leather for wear and leather for health. And talk about style. The all-leather shoe is the last word in shoe fashions. Ask to see the all- leather shoe when you buy new shoes. Tell the repairman that only honest leather will do for you. AMERICAN SOLE and BELTING LEATHER TANNERS 17 Battery Place, New York City Nothing takes the place of LEATHER

will tell you

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Boys who become Western Union Messengers have the choice of many BOYS’ LIFE Scouts to the front! Polish up your wits and dust off your dictionaries, for here are five prizes waiting five alert boys. Which are to be the lucky ones? Charade My first is proud when given power; My second, fine, when dressed in style; My third may come from depths of earth, | | s sti ay ave -” any . i } | b usiness opportunities Class I. The sender of the best ‘set of answers mailed on or To travel over many a mile. ‘ —— _— receive a prize of $2; the sender of the My second, third, means much in store, next best set will receive a prize of So plentiful it well may boast; oe — ee ee Ye ates Class Il. To readers who can make original puzzles, three cl ae 5 tie clan We train bd¥s for business—and always have. Graduates heroes alia Uitis ied eae ne ean tie My whole a city’s name will show, from our Messenger Service are in every large city; successful in business; proud of the fact that Western Union training de- veloped in them self-reliance and poise; the faculty of observa- tion and the habit of industry. To boys who have completed school, or who want part-time work, the following advantages of employment with us should make a strong appeal: nities for choosing the mcst interest- ing and profitable permanent employ- ment. Bright boys with good service records are recommended to our patrons Healthful, attractive outdoor work with good pay. Active participation in a service of the greatest public importance Vacations with pay; bicycles sold at cost. Telegraphy taught free. Opportu- nity for promotion to clerical posi- tions in the company Part-time employment open to boys attending school mornings or after- noons Daily contact with every line of business gives exceptional opportu- The manager of any Western Union office will gladly give you more details WESTERN UNION MESSENGER SERVICE THE WESTERN UNION TELEGRAPH COMPANY i HOME STUDY COURSE In SCOUTMASTERSHIP @ A complete and helpful training in the principles and practice of scout leadership, including twenty-six books and pamphlets. . 20. $2 for the second best. $1 for the next best. If a reader wins a prize in Class |, he will not be eligible for a second prize in Class | for the six months following, though he may (if he can!) win a prize for puzzle-making the very next month. The same rule holds good “the other way around.” Address all letters to Puzzlecraft, care BOYS’ LIFE, 200 Fifth Avenue, New York City. A free field for all! Who are the five lucky readers for March? Some Curious Birds 1. What bird names a letter of the alphabet? 2. What bird names a flying toy? ;. What bird names a broad collar worn any years ago? 4. What bird names a person who is easily cheated? 5. What bird names a light that burns unsteadily? 6. What bird names a contrivance for lifting the body a little distance above the ground? 7. What bird names a fabulous winged nonster? 8. What bird names a gold coin? g. What bird names a bar of steel or iron, forming part of a track? 10. What bird is named after a chessman? 11. What bird names a jollification? 12. What bird names to cower, under appre- hension of great danger? Numerical Enigma I am composed of eighteen letters and form the name of a famous organization. My 5-10-2 is the sound made by a pigeon. My 9-6-1 is a sorrowful cry. My 11-15-3 is to cook on a griddle. My 4-18-8 is was seated. My 17-7-14 is a word or sign which reminds a player that he is to speak or do something. My 12-16-13 is design. Zigzag All the words described contain the same number of letters. When rightly guessed and written one below another, the zigzag, begin- ning with the upper, left-hand letter and end- ing with the lower right-hand letter, will spell a beautiful city. Reading across: 1. To wither. 2. Money. 3. To venture. 4. To cleanse with water. 5. A cchild’s bed. 6. Concludes. 7. A hollow- horned ruminant. 8. An extremely small par- ticle of matter. 9. To carry off as plunder. 10. That which is asked or granted as a favor. ’Tis found on India’s western coast. Oblique Puzzle In solving, follow the accompanying dia- gram, though the puzzle has more cross-words. Cross-Worps: 1 In travel. 2. A club used in playing baseball. 3. A claw. 4. Sounds. 5. At no time. 6. A kind of chair. 7. Extremely vio- lent. 8. An African river. 9. A county of England. ro. A wanderer. 11. In no degree. 12. To make merry. 13. A kind of fortifica- tion. 14. To work. 15. Unusual. 16. A ribbed fabric. 17. In travel. Transpositions EXAMPLE: Transpose a narrow opening and make a catalogue. ANSWER: Slit, list. 1. Transpose part of the face, and make a measure of length. 2. Transpose a weathercock, and make part of a church. 3. Transpose a young girl, and make among. 4. Transpose the moon, and make a bone of the arm. 5. Transpose neat, and make fortitude. 6. Transpose hastens, and make vessels that contain coffee. 7. Transpose a burden, and make to contend. 8. Transpose a deep trench around a castle, and make a tiny particle. g. Transpose a luminous body, and make sailors. 10. Transpose a piece of money, and make a Russian image. 11. Transpose a Mexican laborer, and make candid. 12. Transpose chanted, and make ponies. When these transpositions have been rightly made, the initials of the twelve new words will spell an imposing ceremony that takes place in March. Answers to February Puzzles FO . . : ° . Pi zzle . nerc : —_ @ Organized in twelve lessons designed to give the maximum of i Pus - ee, 8 ee > & : : re ‘ Arrange each group of letters so as to form fire = i , page? ae a Lg practical benefit with the minimum of demand on your time. a word. The result will be an eight-line verse Pen Sn P™ Yana’ Notice Rae Te | by Clinton Scollard. I. E. 2. Art, 3. Error. 4. Toa. 5 sv 2d i i i i i i 3 P 2. Con. 3. Rover. 4. Net. 5. R. q For detailed information, address Columbia University, Room Ferewall at caseslese nonswig ENDLESS Cua, I. Enter. 2. Error. 3- Orest. i ie i r! 4. Adore. 5. Redan. 6. Anger. 7. Erode. ; 24, Home Study Department, New York City. Dan twiner braged ni gary! Sa tee a ee a ‘““SCOUTMASTERSHIP NOTES” and a detailed set of troop and patrol meeting and hike pro- @ The new monthly bulletin of the Columbia University Home Oto glon shi asinch veha undob su Ew gifnl hemt form oarnud su Dan legfuel hial shi gongi Thiw grining raneyloud. Lewfrale ot celeesass sinwong Dan renwit braged ni yarg! Cross-word Enigma My first is in carve, but not in cut; My second, in tent, but not in hut; Inlet. 13. Ethic. 14. Ichor. 15. Organ. 16. Angle. 17. Leave. 18. Verse. 19. Seven. A County Puzzte. New York State. 1. Wash- ington. 2. Fulton, Robert. 3. Hamilton, Alexander. 4. Greene, Nathanael. 5. Madison, James. 6. Clinton, Sir Henry. 7. Jefferson, Thomas. 8. Wayne. 9. Steuben, Baron. 10. Putnam, Israel. 11. Franklin, Benjamin. 12. Herkimer, Nicholas. 13. Schuyler, Philip. 14. Monroe, a 15. Sullivan, John. 16. Saratoga. 17. Niagara. 18 Erie and Ontario. 19. Wyoming. 20. Delaware. CENTRAL Acrostic. St. Valentine. Cross-words: , ane o . WL. 1. Mason. 2. Baton. 3. Gavel. 4. Crave. 5S. Study Course in Scoutmaster- grams for each month. = yond 9 open ig tape in aiik; in ae Totem. 9. Built. ° My /¢ Ss y ’ s ; 0. Pancy. . ‘eam. ship. v fifth isi in stick: CoNNECTED_ Squares. I. 1. Have. 2. Area. hip g Offered to all scout leaders at My /ifth is in cane, but not in stick; Pe ae Bae eee ales My sixth is in break, but not in nick; Mice. 4. Eden. III. 1. Slur. 2. Lope. 3. Upon. 4. , P i a ; @ Contains brief “how” articles cost, sixty cents a year. Send My seventh, in tub, but not in cask; 4, Rent. IV. 1. Near. 2. Ee. 3. Anna. by successful scoutmasters, sig- subscriptions (by check, money My eighth is in bottle, but not in flask; a ae ene nificant quotations, editorials, order, cash or two-cent stamps) = = COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY Room 24, Home Study Department 419 West 117th Street, New York City My whole must be courageous and wise, For it names a person bound to rise. Diagonal CoNcEALED WoORD-SQUARE. 1. Hand. 2. Area. 3. Near. 4. Dare. Acrostic , Each of these five little pictures may be described by a word of five letters. When rightly guessed and written one below another, the diagonal from the upper left-hand letter to the lower right-hand letter will, spell a breezy season. March i

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FOR ALL BOYS 43 N peeonsnenseneetniemenestantesnnanaianii 1924 EVERYTHING A SCOUT NEEDS New Prices of Certain Items Effective February 1st Cat. No. 645 651 647 648 649 503 592 511 642 642 643 643 519 519 Article Price Regulation Gcout Coat .......................0000055. GBM Regulation Scout Breeches wih leaks 0s Pasa ace cet eeicsta tease ala Scout Shirt, Winter Khaki............................ 228 Scout Shirt, Summer Khaki. . séanenn ae Scout Shirt, U.S. Standard Flannel ; 4.00 Regulation Scout Hat = 2.75 Scout Haversack : 2.50 Regulation Khaki Shorts 1.90 S. M. Khaki Coat, Stock . 4.75 J S. M. Khaki Coat, Measure... 7.00” S. M. Khaki Breeches, Stock 3,75 S. M. Khaki Breeches, Measure . ~§.50 S. Be. Mit Teemnes, Ghowk.......... 60.6... ss cus , * 3.00 S. M. Khaki Trousers, Measure. . reer fF Scout Neckerchiefs; full size, all colors; singly 50c, per doz $5.60 Slides for Neckerchiefs, In dozen lots, $1.70; Singly, fic. Ready To Hand For Prompt Shipment Brought together upon a single vast floor of a warehouse in the heart of New York, are the uniforms, badges, the tents, blankets, first aid supplies, signalling equipment, books, knives, axes, radio supplies, and the wide assort- ment of other personal aids to Scouting which’may be called for by any of the 600,000 Scouts and Scout Officials géattered over the United States. / Whether you live in a big city or in a small town, we know that you may send us here a hurry call for the equip- ment desired or which you cannot pur- chase at home. We are ready and will not fail you. Never take chances with substitute equipment. Be sure to get only what is Authavindd and Official It Will Interest You, Too “RE The Catalog of Scout Supplies which these fellows are reading will absorb your attention in the same earnest fashion. Did You Get Yours? If you did not receive a copy of the last Catalog, printed as “Scouting” for October, 1923 Write for One, Quick BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA ational Supply Service, - 200 Fifth Avenue, New York

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Suppose this happened to you? In the suburbs of the city of Rome are miles and es of narrow, criss- crossing, undergfound passages, some- times seven storges deep. These gal- leries, cut out offlimestone rock, were used as burial ults 1600 years ago. They are the cat@combs of Rome—one of the strange ahd interesting places you will want t@ visit if you ever go to Italy. x Dave Collins, sightseeing in t American boy, went catacombs and got lost. The fact isghe sat down and pre- tended to go to sléep. Then he actually dropped off. Andjwhen he awoke! His father, his chum @nd the guide were all gone. His candle gas lost. Right oppo- site leered a griffhing, green skeleton. He could hear ans and wails: And then what happ@hed? Find out, in “Lost i acombs,” by John story beginning in this issue is Karl of the Lakes.” It Michigan in 1850, as a wilderness. the sawmill Tom ous stranger thing after a Tom learned a-plenty. Yo him too. There’s a wo Scoville, Jr., i wild animals o “In the Freezi another story a cannibals they How Manuele order and follow He saw the — bush. He cried his master didn’t ; the rest of it here Tead “Manuele,” by Merlin Moore ylor—it’s great. Bonehead Tierney is back again in another detective adventure that will keep you guessing to the very end. It’s “The Phantom Flivver,” Moroso. You'll like Bonehead. you haven’t already met him, get ac- quainted. In addition there are all the big, fine | departments—chock-full of things | you like, and information you’ll find | mighty useful. missing this wonderful issue of THE happened. What this stranger was t to know about It’s about the ar North, called k.” And there’s qually wild men, in New Guinea. yed his master’s into the jungle. We can’t tell AMERICAN Boy. Get your copy early. | $2.00 a year by mail. 20 cents a copy at news-stands. Subscribe for a year or leave a standing order at your news-dealer’s. oy THE SPRAGUE PUBLISHING CO, No. 706 American Bidg., Detroit, Mich. Enclosed find $2.00, for which send Tre AMERICAN Boy for one year, beginning with the current issue, to mer > Riderst. Ce a int n for Bows in All the World Name.. , Address ‘ Soe ea Don’t take a chance on Ovwlets M!?: HOPE CEMETERY they called the place but at that particular moment it held no hope for me. I was half-scared out of my wits. Now, I’d never have been there any- way if the sparrow tribe had kept out of my | life. Just the year before I had been trapping !along the river. One cold March morning while making my rounds I found him hanging by his head in a fork of a willow. He was dead. The wind and the rain had left his streaked coat of brown and gray ruffled and wet. \s I smoothed his rusty-splotched breast and admired his red tail—not the red of the Cardinal but a brownish-red—I thought T had never seen anything so pretty. 1 didn’t know him at all but I later learned that he was the lox Sparrow. I buried him in a bed of wet sand and went about my business. The little incident set me to thinking; I wondered if there were other birds as pretty as he. Then and there I caught the fever. All through that year I tramped long miles, waded streams, climbed trees in my mad eagerness to know. And that is how it happened that the next spring a college professor found me. He was a “bird man,” so before he had been in our vil- lage a day he met “that crazy boy who was good fer nothin’ except to chase birds.” Well, to make a long story short we fell for each other and he coaxed me to go back to school with him. It was he who said to me: “Skeeter, a strong south wind is blowing to-night. There will be many new arrivals among the birds. They will come in with it. You had better plan to get out early in the morning and check up on them.” HAT remark along with an alarm clock which insisted on jangling away until it was stopped got me out of a nice warm bed. I was too sleepy to care right then whether the birds lived or died. The snappy March air soon took the drowsiness out of me and I was glad to be out. But when I reached the cemetery, the favorite bird ground of that locality, my glad- ness sort of oozed away. The very silence of the place hurt. The weird light of the early dawn just before sunrise gave a spookiness to the place. No small wonder then that my hair began to stand straight up to see what it was all about when from right behind me came a low booming sound. I jumped—you would have done the same. It appeared to come from the grave back of me. I didn’t run because my knees refused to work. I stood still but, oh, how I hated that Fox Sparrow for getting me into such a fix! In a few seconds the booming began again and at regular intervals repeated itself. This time I had the advantage for I was facing it. Nothing came from that grave and since my legs were still balking I stayed to see it |out. About-that time the sun took a notion | to rise and things around me began to lose their | mystery. My wits came back at wandering | | | A young sparrox Bird Walks By B. RP. Reed Illustrated with Photographs Harris sparrox and it slowly came over me that I had had a rare experience. I had barely figured it out when a boy about ten years came running toward me so scared that his legs couldn’t keep from running. How I envied those legs! “Did you hear that?” he panted. graveyard is sure haunted.” “Hear what, that booming sound?” [ asked, as cool as you please, at least on the outside. ‘This “Oh, that was only a Prairie Chicken. He must have been a good mile away.” “Well, how in the dickens does he do it? T sure thought a ghost had me,” exclaimed Shag as he sat down on a fallen tombstone. “ Didn’t it scare you?” That last question was a bit ticklish so I passed it up by telling Shag as fast as my tongue could fly how at sunrise a cock will start this low booming sound and how each cock takes it up as it awakens. “In the early spring, Shag, when the courting season is on a few cocks and hens will gather on the open prairie or some frozen lake. There the males will fight, strut and boom before the hens. They have a little orange sac on each side of the neck which they inflate; then with widespread tails, drooping wings, erect neck tufts and lowered heads they emit the booming.” “T thought it was right behind me,” Shag. “Yes, I know” (only I knew how well), I answered. “It is rather strange how it de- ceives one. Often it will appear far off when it is quite near and again it will seem to be near when it is a mile or more distant.” How grand that sounded as I reeled off what I had read. I failed to tell him that I had never before heard it. The “Bird Man” laughed long and loud when I told him how I had pieced two and two together. Anyway, Shag fell for me and we became fast friends. Some day I'd like to confess to him. Of course I couldn’t afford to then for you see I was a Freshman. Thereafter my daily morning trips began with Shag’s low whistle. He, too, had caught the fever. It was out in the same old cemetery not long afterwards that he called my attention to a number of gray oblong masses lying about on the ground. “Why, Shag, these are owl pellets! Look here, see the bone and fur of some rodent caught unawares. You see the part that is left said undigested is regurgitated. Strange, isn’t it, that the bones are so white and clean? Every particle of meat is gone.” “Do you suppose they are still here some- where?” he asked. E BEGAN searching the evergreen above us and sure enough there on one of the branches about fifteen feet from the ground sat two Long-Eared Owls. Every day for at least a month we paid thema visit. Once they changed their location and we had to spend some little time looking for fresh pellets before we discovered them in an- other evergreen nearby. It was Shag’s de- light to try to make the owls “wring their necks.” Round and round he’d walk but he was never quick enough to see them shift gear, as it were, instead of making a complete turn. The next afternoon we found one with a freshly killed rodent in its claws. It was still broad daylight. “*Schucks!” exclaimed Shag, “‘ who says owls can’t see in daytime?” “The same person,” I answered, ‘‘ who says that if you breathe into a nest a it the bird will leave. The light may irritate the eyes of some of them like the Great Horned Owl, but it does not keep them from seeing. The Short-[ared quite often hunts at high noon, flying low over the BOYS’ LIFE Short-eared owl meadows in search of a meal. He is so hawk- like in appearance that he is frequently shot by some one who does not know the dif- ference. Say, Shag, do you remember when you hated to have your ears washed? Ouch, it makes me squirm yet to think how they used to dig around in mine as if they owned them. Many a time since I’ve been downright glad that Nature didn’t make a mistake and put the owl’s ears on me. Its whole head comes very near being nothing else. Back of that circle of feathers around the beak is an enormous hole on each side. If you ever want to see it just part the feathers and you'll find the ear.’’ “Oh, I thought those tufts sticking up were the ears. Why do they call them that?” asked Shag. “Well, I can’t tell you, I have often won- dered the same thing. They are tufts of feathers which the owl elevates; perhaps they have something to do with the hearing or they may be protective devices. They certainly add to the ferocious look to say the least.” While we stood there discussing their kind Shag yelled, * Now, what do you know about that! He swallowed that mouse head first without even cracking a bone.” That of itself was enough to get him excited. From then on he was bent on finding the nest- ing site of some of the owls. So at Easter time we tramped to the big woods along the river. The “Bird Man’’ had told me that a pair of Great Horned Owls had been nesting there in a certain tree for three seasons. The task of finding them was much easier than we had hoped, you will soon understand why. The weather was raw and cold with a wet snow that melted soon after it fell. We slipped Indian fashion into the woods after spotting what we thought was the old cottonwood where they had nested. We didn’t want them to see us and fly away. But as luck would have it one of the old birds rose from the ground and flew out of the woods. We went to the spot where it took to wing and there, much to our surprise, was a downy baby, all eyes, sitting on the wet ground looking much like a Dodo. It had tumbled out of the nest or else it had been blown out by the strong wind. HAG was bent on putting it back in the hollow limb which leaned over our heads about fifteen feet from the ground. The tree was slick with no branches growing low down. We made a bag out of a big bandanna and into this we set the owl. Shag tied one end of a stout cord to the four corners, the other end he took between his teeth. With the pushes and lifts I gave him he managed to shin up that tree. He slipped out along the limb to the hollow where we thought the nest must be. He slowly and carefully drew the young owl up and took him from the bag. As he leaned over to put him back into the nest the other bird (Concluded on page 56) Slate colored junco March "4 FO! Ens whe con sail fact nev our bef her ove the beg the fro leac mil dec put are twe wil pa: of de th res loy ast sci WI shi

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vk- tly lif- len ed ad he cle le ist — oe er =_— wa [FYE FOR ALL BOYS By Frank H. Cheley N OUTSTANDING quality of leadership isdecision. The two most powerful words in the language are “yes” and “no.” The boy who can say yes and no at the right time and in the right place has progressed a long way toward leadership. There are no Mr. Dilly-dally’s in the Hall of Fame. One of the most difficult of all qualities to develop is the ability to make wise decisions and stand by them. One reason for this is because it takes nerve to decide. Just recall a few of the great decisions men have made that have changed the course of history and in every case it took pure nerve. Listen to Daniel Webster saying with all the intense feeling he possessed, ‘‘ Sink live or die, survive or perish, I give heart to this vote.” Or listen to Grant saying, “‘ We'll fight it out on this line if it takes all summer,” or Patrick Henry saying, “‘ But for me, give me liberty or give me death,” all decisions that affected the history of the world. or swim, my hand and my A Nervy Decision Captain Fremont tells the story of what Ensign Gillis did in the Spanish-American War when one day his quick eye saw a torpedo coming toward the Porter upon which he sailed. “The torpedo was coming rather slowly, in fact was nearly spent, but if it touched us nevertheless, a bed under the water would be our doom. The boy had his shoes and coat off before I knew it. ‘Don’t do it, Gillis; she’s got her war nose on!’ I cried. “«Then I'll unscrew it, sir,’ said the boy, and over the side he went, threw his arms around the torpedo, headed it away from us and then began feeling for its business end. Suddenly the air-cock opened and the torpedo dived from his arms to the bottom.” The ability to make great decisions makes leaders. Decision will often give to an inferior mind command over a superior one. Learn to decide. The Game of Choosing Take a bit of a note-book and a pencil and put down carefully a tiny tally every time you are called upon to decide anything for just twenty-four hours and you will get a new idea of the importance of decision in your life and will discover that the world literally revolves about choices. You begin the day by deciding to get up (or to lie in bed), then you choose the clothing to be worn (unless mother does it for you), and then you choose what you will eat, whether you will walk or ride, and so it goes— a decision to make every minute every day— big ones along with little ones; you choose your books and your friends, and literally your op- portunities, and if you learn to decide wisely and well, you win; if you have never taken the matter of prompt decision seriously, you lose and the other fellow wins. Make Decision a Habit But a few weeks ago, Rear-Admiral Young passed out. He stood in the very front rank of his profession, and standing out prominently in his splendid character was his ability to " decide important steps almost instantly from the time of his boyhood. “As a midshipman, he leaped overboard to rescue a seaman, and before the boats could be lowered and rowed to him, he was three miles astern swimming and supporting the uncon- scious sailor. Later, when the ship Huron was wrecked on a reef off the North Carolina coast, he and another young chap decided to reach shore ona raft. When the raft capsized, he not only swam ashore, but dragged his companion to safety with him. Then he ran four miles toa life-saving station, broke into the building, dragged out the apparatus and succeeded in saving thirty-four officers and men out of a crew of a hundred and thirty-two. For his heroism and prompt decision, Congress ad- vanced him in rank and the Legislature of Kentucky, his native State, made him an honorary member.” “T never did anything by accident,” says Thomas A. Edison, “nor did any of my inven- tions come indirectly through accident, except the phonograph. No, when I have fully decided that a result is worth getting, I go ahead on it and make trial after trial until it comes Who can tell how big a part of genius deci- sion is? The great outstanding difference between one boy and another consists not so much in talent as in energy and enthusiasm, for as someone has told us, ‘The man‘who is capable of generating enthusiasm can’t be whipped.”’ But before anyone can become really enthu- siastic about their job and put his best energy into it, he must like it and must believe in it. Every outstanding leader in whatsoever realm is a chronic enthusiast. ** | Like My Job” One of Theodore Roosevelt’s friends once asked him why he was always so enthusiastic and how in the world he generated enough energy to keep going at his terrific pace. ‘Energy is my middle name,” he replied, ‘‘and I like my job.” He always liked his job and that was why he was a great world leader. He liked to do whatever he found necessary to do. Dr. Forbush tells the following story that is typical of thousands of American college boys who are getting through on energy and enthu- siasm. “A college student once wanted to earn his board by waiting on table at a boarding-house. He applied at the college hotel, but there was no vacancy there. ‘But can’t I wait on the waiters?’ he asked. ‘We have somebody to wait on the waiters.’ ‘How about waiting on the workmen of the new addition, then,’ he persisted. ‘We have somebody for that, too, but say, will you scrub floors?’ ‘Bet your life [ will,’ came the prompt answer, ‘scrub anything you say, from the attic to the furnace. I’m the best little scrubber you ever saw.” So he scrubbed floors until there was a chance | to wait on the workmen and then he waited on the workmen until there was a chance to wait on the waiters, and by and by he became a waiter himself—and eventually he was running his own boarding-house. ‘Make every occa- sion a great occasion, for you can never tell who may be taking your measure for a higher place.” All Real Leaders Have It It took Cyrus W. Field thirteen years of unceasing labor to lay the Atlantic cable. What but enthusiasm could have kept him at it? What made “Fulton’s Folly” a success when men by the score had laughed and jeered? nothing but enthusiasm. Enthusiasm even built the Ford car. For months and months Mr. Ford labored with a balky engine until only his inexhaustible enthusiasm for his idea saved him from defeat. It was enthusiasm that brought Columbus across unknown seas. It was enthusiasm that took Scott to the South Pole. It was the enthusiasm of a couple of million boys in khaki that won the war. Without enthusiasm for the cause you repre- sent, your chances are pretty slim. If you can’t get enthusiastic over yourself and your job, there is something wrong with one or the other, or both, and you had better stop and investigate. You can never get leadership out of an ice- box. It is always a warm-hearted, eager, up- and-coming sort of a thing. The conservative, overcautious, skeptical, half-inclined-to-be- pessimistic sort of folks keep cool and calm and deliberate, but the men that make the world go round have a contagious enthusiasm about them. In America we call it ‘“pep’’—just plain “pep.” Our grand-dads called it“ git-up.” The high-brows call it “potentiality,” but it’s all one and the same thing—irrepressible, un- flagable, unquenchable enthusiasm. The man who has it, provided he can back it up thor- oughly, can lead the crowd anywhere and get men to attempt the impossible with pleasure. 45 AMUNDSEN ny will carry Corona to the North Pole G* T out your piensiisiie and look for Spitzbergen— a group of islands in the Arctic Ocean, north of Norway. Photo by Pacific and Atlantic Photos, Inc. From the shore of one of these islands Captain Roald Amundsen will “hop off” on his Trans-Polar airplane flight. The success of such a daring feat depends on two things—the courage and endurance of the men—and the reliability of their equipment, Corona was chosen as the official typewriter of the expedition becayse of its Proved Durability You, too, should own a Corona Are you going to college? Then take along a typewriter you can depend upon. Are you entering business? There, too, your equipment is half the battle. If you haven't investigated Corona, don’t put it off anovher day. It is the type- writer used by successful people the world over. Mail the coupon now and let us tell you where you can see Corona and how easily you can buy one. CoronA The Pessonal Writing Machine CORONA TYPEWRITER CO., Inc. 115 Main Street, Groton, N. Y. Without obligation please send me complete Corona literature and address of nearest dealer. Name. Address Catalog of Professional and Amateur Plays, Sket FREE ches, Monologs, Minstrel Jokes, Recitations, Make-Up Goods, etc. FITZGERALD PUBLISHING CORP. Dept. BL, 18 htered stearate New York Illustrated Catalog FREE! Write now for your copy. uy Class Pins or Rings direct from factory. Save money! C. K. GROUSE CO. 46 Bruce Ave., North Attleboro, Mass. BOXING: Jiu-Jitsu Wrestling Think of it! For only $1.67 plus actual postage you can now have the famous Mar- shall Stillman Course — the same $5.00 course by which Marshall Stillman has taught boxing, jiu-jitsu and wrestling to over 30,000 men! You can have it on 10-day trial—send no money. Over 80 complete lessons—six volumes, hundreds of pages and over 200 illustrations—all for $1.67 or less than 3 cents a lesson. He teaches you right in your own home. You learn all the fundamentals of boxing and the blows and guards used by the top-notchers—the Benny Leonard T riple, the Jack Dempsey Triple, the Fitzsimmons Shift, etc. All the sec —_ of the ring, all the fine —_ oO a a ec - of feting, ducking. clinching, breaking ground. Jud | MARSHALL STILLMAN ASSOCIATION of Shadow Boxing to develop speed and confidence. = P ao GRS RNESOR HO., How York In short, you will become a good boxer in quick time able to box rings around that ‘‘fellow who thinks he knows it all” —and for only $1.67. In Jiu-Jitsu you will learn how to disarm an opponent, how to break a strangle hold, etc., and in Wrestling, the Gotch Toe Hold, Stecher Scissor Hold, the Head-lock, etc. With the course you get a Free History of 69 Fa- mous Boxers, with their pictures and ‘“‘inside’’ stories about them. WAS. $5.00 Send No Money—Simply fill in and mail the coupon. When you have the course in your hands, deposit 67 cents, (plus the actual postage) with the postman. Then examine the course for 10 days—try it thoroughly. At the end of ten days either send us the small balance of $1.00 in final payment or return the course, and we'll send your deposit back. MARSHALL STILLMAN ASSOCIATION Dept. 2624-C, 42nd St. and Madison Ave., New York ou may send me on approval the Marshall Stillman Course. Iwill depeult 67c, (plus the actual postage) with the postman, with — understanding oat if, after 10 cays, 1 wish x return he course I may my money will be instantly re- funded. If | keep the cmurae: 1 am simply to send you §1 in final payment. Name..... Address. . ote Canadian i foreien orders must be oy ae ‘cash ($1 U. unds) subject to money back if o entirely entletactocy

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ITTING in my studio, under the head of a caribou from far Alaska, facing the head of a great black moose from the forests on the border line of Ontario, I have been wondering how a boy, or a man, can really live in a tree- less land. My earliest recollection of a good time is that of picnics, hikes and excursions through the woods. When our archeologists hunt for ancient civilization and dig to find the remains of King Tut and other fellows who lived thousands of years ago and are now jerked meat, these antiquarians do not go to fertile countries, but to places mostly waterless and uninhabitable; all provisions and water supply must be carried to them. Now, then, did it ever occur to you scouts that these ancient fellows who owned powerful armies and built great cities, who had art galleries, painting and sculpture, who had baths and fountains, and all that sort of thing, could not have had all these luxuries in the desert! In other words, their civilization disappeared not so much on account of wars and of conquering nations, as because they had used up the country in which they lived; the fertile spots, the gardenlands and agricultural lands had been deforested like the old parts of China and afterwards swallowed up by the deserts or the drifting sand thereof. Man might be defined as the desert-making animal, and apparently he did not change his habits when he emigrated to America. On the con- trary, he set his wonderful brain to work to plan ways and means of spoiling what God had built, and his brain has been busy ever since devising methods of destruction, methods of deforesting the lands, methods of draining the swamps which are the natural and only breed ing-grounds of our wild fowls, methods of destroying all live things, useful and otherwise, including men. You young fellows who have your lives yet to live, you men of to-morrow, what sort of a land are you going to have after we men of yesterday have destroyed the forests, destroyed the animal life, even exterminated our beautiful wildflower, leaving you a country of squeaking European starlings, imported German carp, English sparrows and brown-tail moths and boll-weevils? If a hundred and fifty thousand scout officials and four hundred thousand scouts each plant but one tree there will be six hun- dred and fifty thousand new trees in this country; but this will hardly fill the space cleaned out by one good forest fire; New York and New Jersey scouts alone, however, planted 141,000 trees in 1922 and ’23. This will be an object lesson to thoughtless people, for be- tween our scientists who are inventing almost unbelievable methods of destruction and our ignorant people who do not realize and under- stand that our water supply and our very life is depending upon forests and the wild life of the country, there is a breach into which you = aA ice tautt cal So Ks 7 = By Dan Beard Illustrated by the Author _ ; boys must step and wave your banner of common sense, brotherhood and usefulness. So let’s get busy right now and set out some trees to celebrate Arbor Day, instead of sitting in school and singing some ring-around-a-rosy rhymes about them; nursery rhymes may help children’s minds to grow but they will not make trees grow. HERE are millions of acres of waste lands in the United States which might be turned into scout forests by our organizations within whose limits they lie. On much of this land fine trees have grown and can grow again. Here is a real opportunity for mak- ing scouting self-supporting for future generations for ever and a day, by starting SCOUT FORESTS. Such a forest will be not only a pro- WY gt, ductive investment, wr N y,) : Hp, but involves no risk, ee \h V7 fe and costs almost " nothing to maintain. It demands next to no care. The ever- increasing scarcity of timber makes a forest one of the safest and best investments a scout council could make. Nothing is more certain of increasing steadily in value and finding a ready market at any time when it has to be converted into cash, and in the meantime the land can be used for scout camps. Even a small tract of woodland may prove a veritable gold mine to the scout troop. White pine is the ideal tree for scout forests in and north of Pennsylvania, Fig. 1, and from Minnesota eastward to the Atlantic seaboard. It is the best tree for general purposes of all- around usefulness. To reach very productive size it requires from thirty-five to seventy years; but at the end of that period a forest of white pine is now worth $1,300 an acre. When only ten inches in diameter the trees are worth $2.50 apiece, and may be cut at a profit. Figs. 2, 3, 4 are other pines. Walnut, Fig. 5; butter nuts, Fig. 6; Leech and hickory nuts, Fig. 7, grow well in the Ohio Valley, and most of them thrive in Connecticut. The best kind of tree for forests belonging to towns in California is the eucalyptus. It is a very rapid grower and furnishes fuel wood in a short time. For the Middle West, oak may be most desirable in one place, and ash in an- other. In the plains region, of course, the trees selected must be able to stand long dry seasons. The catalpa speciosa (Western catalpa or cigar tree) is valuable. The Pennsylvania Rail- road has made large plantings of catalpa speciosa, intending to use the wood for railroad ties, as catalpa is very durable. The St. Louis Exposition exhibited some catalpa railway ties which were sound after thirty-five years’ use. A fence-post was exhibited which had given eighty years of service! Farmers are learning that the catalpa speciosa (“hardy catalpa’’) is not a crooked-growing, worthless tree, although the “southern”’ catalpa (catalpa bignonoides) is usually unshapely. If you are digging your own trees to trans- plant, do not allow the roots, even the smallest fibers, to become dry but roll them up in a ball of wet mud, or swamp moss (sphagnum) Fig. 8, bind it with a piece of string, or use the rootlets of a tamarack or the bark of a dead chestnut, or any of the thou- sand and one things that one can find in the woods to use as string. If your trees come from the nursery, they should come with the roots done up in burlap, as in Fig. 9. In setting the trees have a wash-tub half full of thin mud. Dip the roots of each tree in this just before set- ting. Then place firmly in the hole, Fig. 10, making sure s the trunk is perpendicular. Throw in over the roots some fresh surface dirt, but never put in fresh manure, it will kill them. Set the tree an inch deeper than it stood in the nursery, the loose dirt will settle and some of it may wash away. The dirt should be pressed down firmly, forcing all the air out and helping to retain the mois- ture. For some trees plenty of water is necessary and, in very dry earth, water is necessary for almost any sort of atree. Fig. 11, watering the tree; Fig. 12, trench of earth made to hold the water until it soaks in. There is a general impression that oaks are difficult to transplant, but they require only very careful handling. If the oak is moved once within five years after the first trans- planting, so as to get new and abundant fiber, and is carefully planted in rich soil it will grow. But a tree from four to eight feet high must be used, and not a large dumpy tree. The pin oak is one of the best growing varieties, but ¢ the red oak and chestnut oak ~~. Td *\ are also good. When prop- ss erly transplanted the ash, fig 11 horse-chestnut and _ beech thrive. The birch must be given good soil conditions, plenty of root fibers and plenty of water. Before putting a tree in the ground one scout, with pruning shears or a sharp knife, should cut off all broken and injured branches close to the trunk, so as to leave no stubs sticking out; then prune the other branches, cutting them back until they ex- BOYS’ LIFE Stry tend from six to twelve inches from the trunk. Fig. 13 shows the tree before it js pruned, and Fig. 14 after the knife has been applied. In pruning be careful to cut just above the buds but quite close to them, Figs, 15 and 16; in cutting the roots cut them as shown by Fig. 17. All bruised and broken roots must be cut off and the ends of the long roots cut back from the underside diagonally as in Fig. 17, until they are all one length, making the root size to fit in the hole which is to receive it, Arrange the tree so that the side having the most branches faces the south, the way it grew in its original bed. The Chief Forester should provide himself with a piece of string with a stone tied to the end of it, to use as a plumb- bob and by its means set the tree perpendicular. Put some rich top-soil in the bottom of the hole, tramp it down firmly then spread some fine top-soil over it. Set the roots of the tree in the hole; while one scout holds the tree in place with one hand, he can use the other to straighten out and arrange the rootlets, and the first fellow can shovel in more top dirt, a little at a time. While one shovels the other works the dirt in with his fingers among the roots, Fig. 18. When the hole is half-filled, the dirt may be carefully tramped down around the trunk, then shovel in the rest of the soil and the trick is done. To put trees in a stright line erect a rod at one end of the line and put a peg at the other end, Fig. 19, then take your plumb-line, shut one eye and squint along the string to the rod, while another fellow holds a pole up and moves it to the right or left according to directions, until it is in line, then he marks the place and drives a peg, Fig. 19. Of course, when you plant a tree you must remove the peg, but you will not lose the place if you use a board four feet long by four inches wide with a notch in the center and a notch at each end, Fig. 20. Before digging the hole for the tree, place the board down on the ground so that the center notch fits against the peg, then drive two pegs, one at each end notch, Fig. 18. Now you see you can take up your board and dig the hole, and after the hole is dug put the board back again and set your tree to fit the middle notch; it will then be in line with all the other trees, Fig. 18. Pruning Trees OU must not expect a workman, even though he be directed by Park officials, to trim a limb off a tree properly; he simply (Concluded on page 50) March FC to! mo. son for the whe tha wa} trai you a bi Nov old hea of t min Ssece ab his mez hav nett got

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Ist

FOR ALL BOYS

March. Usually in this month a fellow has to march some to keep warm. However, it is more important that a fellow. should march some to keep ahead of old Idle Five Minutes, for he is forever on the trail. Old I. F. M. is the slowest scout in the world and it is only when he is trying to keep others from work that he shows any sign of speed. There are two ways of showing him up when he is on your trail—one is to work so hard that he can’t see you for dust and the other way is to lay down a barrage of jokes. Below we give you a sample of the barrage. Now, fellow, if you want to help keep away old I. F. M. shoot in all the best jokes you ever heard. For each bull’s eye we will award one of the new Boy Scout 1924 diarys. The barrage must be laid down inside of four minutes and fifty-nine seconds. Don’t spenda second longer on this column. Ready? Shoot!

What Did He Mean? Instructor: ““Great Scott, man, whatever made you fire before the range was clear? Do you know you only just missed me?” Recruit: “No, did I?” Instructor: “TI should think you did.” Recruit: “I’m awfully sorry, sergeant!” Juggling With Money Divide a square into four smaller -squares and arrange three nickles and a dime so that an —— total may be made in any direction , Up, across, and diagonally. (Solution on page 56) Tack-ful! “Why don’t you deal with me now?” asked a butcher of a lady who had formerly visited his shop regularly. “Well,” was the reply, “the last piece of meat I had from you was so tough that I could have soled my shoes with it.” “Then why did you not do it?” asked the nettled butcher. * Because, T could get no tacks that would go through it.’ {7

A Question of Speed One morning a snail, hound and an ostrich started boasting about their running powers. “Although I have no feet, I can travel ten a tortoise, a grey- yards i in an hour,” said the snail. “Although my legs are fixed in a stiff, horny case I can do eight hundred in the same time,” said the tortoise. “That’s nothing,” said’ the greyhound. “My speed is thirty miles an hour.” “And mine,” said the ostrich, “is the greatest of all. I can do sixty miles in an hour.” “T can beat the whole lot of you,” inter- rupted a large fat caterpillar on a tree-top close by. “TI can travel fifty feet in half a second.” How did the caterpillar do it? The caterpillar dropped from the tree 1924 ” ”

The Difference! “Now,” said the teacher, who had been giving a grammar lesson on singular and plural nouns. “What is the difference between ‘man’ and ‘men’? “Well?” asked the teacher as Billy’s shot up. ‘Please, sir, lots of mans!” hand ‘man’ is one men, and ‘men’ is Never Again Billy: “Something happened to me yester- day that will never happen to me again if I live to be a hundred.” George: ‘‘What was it?” Billy: “I was fourteen years old.” Do You Agree? John: “TI say, Harry, which is of the most value, twenty quarters or a five dollar bill?” Harry: “Why, twenty quarters, of course.” John: “Wrong!

j The five dollar bill is the | most valuable, because when you place it in | your pocket you double it, and when you take it out again you find it in creases (increases).”’ Ha! Ha! Ha! School Inspector (to farmer): “Thad a funny answer in school to-day. I asked a class who wrote The Merchant of Venice, and a little boy said, ‘ Please, sir, it wasn’t me.’” Farmer (laughing): “Ha, ha, ha! Tsuppose the little rascal had done it all the time!” A Crack! Diner: ‘‘ Here, waiter, I thought I ordered a chop?” Waiter: Diner: “Ves sir, that’s it.” “Well, so it is! crack in the plate.”

Still Curious Mother: “Don’t ask so many questions, Bobbie. Don’t you know that curiosity once killed a cat?” Bobbie: “What did the cat want to know, mother?” What Is It? My first, without its head and tail, Ts one and undivided. My second shows its teeth, is frail, And as a rule, one-sided. ‘The two to hold my first avail, By busy toil provided. (Solution on page 56) \ ¢

The Limit! A teacher of music was trying to impress upon her pupils the meaning of f and f ina song that they were about to learn. After explaining the first sign, she said: “Now, children, what do you say; if f means forte, what does ff mean?” “Eighty!” shouted one enthusiastic pupil. (Concluded on page 56) | |

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48 ial Council BOYS’ LIFE Prepared for Boy Scouts and Their Friends by James E. West, Chief Scout Executive What a Man Thinks of “‘ Boys’ Life’’ ERE’S the way the Bigger and Better Boys’ LirE—your own magazine, fel- lows—impresses a man who has traveled widely, and is widely familiar with magazines not only for boys, but for men as well. The following telegram was received at the National Council office from Lorne W. Barclay, Director, De partment of Education, while he was visiting the Pacitic Coast: “Congratulations on December Boys’ Lire; Boy Scouts of America are proud of their mag azine. It is a humdinger. Field will be de lighted. Get up, illustrations, stories, scouting material, even the advertising matter thrill me. Boys’ Lire has arrived. My compli ments to you and all your staff who made the December number.” Hornaday Medal Presented FTER challenging Boy Scouts for five years the Gold Medal for Distinguished Service to Wild Life has been won for the first time in its history. The winner is Scout- master Harry J. Hall of t19 Birkett Street, Carbondale, Pa., to whom it is awarded “for twenty years of diligent effective service.” Four Honor Badges are also being awarded “for service to wild life.” These have been conferred upon: D. C. Bartley, District Scout Commigsioner, Zillah, Washington f built for the occasion, for freedom’s _ sake. and the troop flags were Later each tree will formed in a solid line or be marked with a dipped in salute bronze tablet bearing The actual ceremony the name of the sol was short. Fourof the dier to whom the tree best buglers sounded is a memorial. A flag ‘Attention” and “To pole will be put up the Colors,” and the on Memorial Day Scouts from 41 troops in Atlanta, Ga., get their Harding streamers “Clean-Up Week” from Commissioner George EF. Watts Frank H. Chermock, Scout, Northside, Pitts- Marine Band _ followed Boy Scouts of Phila- burgh. with the “Star Spangled delphia Distribute Rual H. Perkins, Scout, Sulphur Springs, Banner’ as the great Flag Publicity in Novel Texas. was unfurled. jThe scouts Allen Melton, Scout, Sulphur Springs, Texas. stood at salute, and the eeel The Permanent Wild Life Protection Fund thousands of spectators SING an aeroplane, through Dr. William T. Hornaday, trustee,and bared their heads. It was the radio, signals also Director of the New York Zoological Park, a most inspiring scene. from a balcony of the awards the medal. The conditions for winning The J. L. Hudson Com- City Hall Tower, an the honor are rigid, and exact painstaking and profound service. The medal consists of a gold disk, two inches in diameter, and bears in bas-relief the figure of a white-tailed buck deer. It is suspended by a red ribbon from a gold clasp to which the fastening pin is attached. This clasp of out- spread wings, symbols of the lion and two serpents, is a gold embodiment of the ancient Egyptian symbol of protection, and constitutes the honor badge. ‘The medal in itself is richly worth having, but what it stands for means even more to the scout who seeks earnestly to win it,’ says the scout pamphlet on the Medal for Distinguished Service to Wild Life. “To work for Permanent Wild Life Con servation is a task which ought to appeal to every boy, especially to every scout, who is a sworn friend to all harmless creatures in feath ers and furs, and is himself dedicated to helpful ness to his community and to his country.” The Largest Flag in the World — THING that the whole nation would have liked to see occurred on Armistice Day in Detroit. The largest flag in the woild was unfurled, and fifty troops of Boy Scouts took a prominent part in the ceremonies. The flag was unfurled from the ninth floor of the J. L. Hudson Company Department Store, and draped to the second floor level below. One thousand uniformed Boy Scouts directed the ceremonies. Preceded by the U. S. Marine Band, the scouts, fully uniformed, marched from Boy Scout Headquarters to the Hudson Building. a4 ib No, this didn’t happen where you think. scout exhibition. ground, fire, at a New Bedford, Mass., indoors—trees, They formed a hollow square around the band, with the building as the fourth side. As each troop marched into place, the color bearers of troop flags and The Flag of the United States fell out and marched forward in solid formation beside the band. When the cere- mony began, The Flags of the United States were placed in a long rack which had _ been The picture was taken Everything is scouls beautiful and scout-like manner. Forty-one men from that county made the supreme sacri- fice. Along a popular highway, on the edge of the boys raced against time to do the job in less than four hours. In the City Hall Court Yard at 1:30 P. M, following an address, ten scouts toed the mark, At the crack of a pistol in the hand of the starter, cach one received a message for his community (known as a Scout District). ‘The scout representing District One tele- phoned his message to an Eagle Scout who broadcasted it over the radio at 1:45 P. M. to the scouts of his community. The scouts of the central section and South Philadelphia received their messages by Morse lag signals from the balcony of the City Hall lower overlooking the Parkway, and relayed them by runners to their communities. The scouts representing Districts Four and ‘ive telephoned their messages to their Field xecutives. Scouts in District Six in West Philadelphia received their message by auto- mobile escorted by a motor-cycle policeman. The representatives of Districts Seven and ight telephoned messages. An escorted auto- mobile took the messenger to District Nine. When the Eagle Scout from District Ten got his message he telephoned it to the Navy Yard to a lieutenant, who hopped off in his seaplane, and inside of fifteen minutes was whizzing 4000 feet above to notify the boys of the district that the distribution was on. The aviator, while flying over City Hall, released a quantity of Welfare Federation literature and dropped his message at the Sea Scout Base at Holmes- the city, the scouts have set out forty-one memorial trees. Vet- erans of the Civil War assisted the scouts in this tribute—a living memorial to those who gave their lives pany have published a folder on topics of live interest to the commu- nity. One of the series is an article by the Chief Scout Executive, entitled, “The Boy Scout in Boy Scouts Remember Those Who Sleep in Flanders Fields Boy the Home.” N ARMISTICE DAY, Montgomery, Ala., scouts commemorated those who gave their lives in the great war in a particularly Scouts have hel ped clear the Slreels of Macon, Ga., for two big parades in 1923 automobile escorted by police on motor cycles, the telephone and other spectacular methods, the Boy Scouts of Philadel- phia started the distribu- tion of the Welfare Federation Publicity folders to every home in the City of Philadelphia and some of the outlying towns on October 20th. Four hundred and fifty thousand folders showing the work of the Welfare Federation were distributed to homes in Philadelphia, and Scouts of Ann Arbor, Mich., ready to act as ushers at the Ferry Field Stadium in Lynn, Mass. Scouts put on a parade to help the good work along burg, where the Sea Scouts have their camp on the House of Correction grounds. The Sea Scouts brought the message to the Field Fx- ecutive of this section. By 2:15 P. M. all the messages were deliv- ered. The entire city was then honeycombed with Boy Scouts delivering the appeals for the Welfare Federation, and racing in their efforts to have their District finished before the others. All the 7052 scouts in the City of Philadel- phia cooperated in this gigantic distribution, the biggest undertaking of its kind ever at- tempted. All but three of the ten Districts finished the distribution before 6 P. M. Scholarships for South Bend A SCHOLARSHIP fund has been esiab- lished for scouts of South Bend, Indiana. The fund is to be divided into three awards ap- plicable upon college expenses of three scouts of the high school group to graduate in 1925, all Boy Scouts of this class being eligible for the honor. The awards will be based upon the credits divided as follows: church attendance, 25 credits; school grades, 25 credits; scouting attainments, 50 credits. This Will Interest Radio Fans Ort of the hundreds of Boy Scout troops which competed in the recent nationwide contest conducted by “Radio Broadcast” to determine what group of scouts stands first in wireless achievement, Troop 5, Providence, R. I., has been designated by the Providence Journal as having done more with radio from both technical and entertainment standpoint than any other contestants. For their record, covering a period of two years, members of Troop 5 have been awarded one of the most modern sets of receiving ap- paratus as first prize in the contest. The prize is to be set up in the troop’s “radio den,” at the headquarters of the local Young Men’s Hebrew Association. March se FOF Th in co mit j of ra Troo radio Th ters tend lister the s scout Mar boys set a Prov ning recei' ward abou covel I bi ar mem in tv is di tions 23 ‘=n varie years Secti to 10 has mast leade tion leade hims' B, a! tant vises “Ti the- s sista! make differ troop has. 1 best. time awari patro Th news| junio basek it ha: pline. in thi Mee AT ] Exec that and »

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—_— OD — o @P fete bate MET FOR ALL BOYS The scouts have not only become proficient in constructing apparatus, receiving and trans- mitting, but have also to their credit a long list of radio installations in hospitals, and homes. Troop 5 is also credited with establishing the radio station at Camp Yawgrog last summer. The troop’s files, it is said, are filled with let- ters of appreciation from hospital superin- tendents, patients, and others who have listened in on the receiving sets erected by the scouts. “According to the troop’s essayists, the scouts’ greatest good deed was performed in March, 1922, when the scoutmaster with five boys on a Saturday afternoon installed their set at the Rhode Island Hospital,” states the Providence Journal. “On the following eve- ning W hen the set was tuned up and ready to receive, the patients in the hospital’s biggest ward enjoyed a concert. The set was moved about until almost the entire hospital had been covered.” Making the Older Boy a Success TROOP 13, of East Orange, N. J., has an interesting plan that has raised its membership from 4 to 57 in two years. The troop is divided into two sec- tions. Section A_ has 23 members, whose age varies from 16 to I9 years. The members of Section B range from 12 to 16 years. Each section has two assistant scout- masters, a senior patrol leader and scribe, in addi- tion to the regular patrol leaders. The scoutmaster himself supervises Section B, and the senior assis- tant scoutmaster super- vises Section A. “Tt has been the idea of the. staff,” writes the as- sented for saving a life under circumstances of exceptional bravery. Of these the following letters had been sent since the last report to the Executive Board: Jewett Brummett, Chugwater, Wyo.; Wil- liam Costello, Woodhaven, L. Dalton, Los Angeles, Calif.; Ww illiam Cameron, Sioux City, Ta.; L. I.; Bernard Guis, Rockaway, N. Y.; Clar- | ence Joshum, Flushing, N. Y.; ; Sterling Larson, Richmond, Utah; John J. Mellor, Rosedale, L. I.; Isaac Merril, Austin, Minn.; Carl Neville, Trenton, Ga.; Michael Salucka, Jamaica, L. I.; Philip Schaupp, Springfield, L. I.; George Bergstrom, Ogden, Utah. Personal letters were sent to Carl Barth, Louisville, Ky.; Theodore W. Nass, Linden- hurst, L. I., and Jack Watkins, Philadelphia, e ‘a. Gold Medals were awarded to Lawrence Nelson, St. Paul, Minn.; Lawrence LeSage, Concordia, Kan.; Thomas Taranto, Ridge- | field, N. J. Committee on Badges, and Awards ond | out Requirements \ A MEETING of the | Committee on Badges, Awards and Scout Re- quirements took place on January oth. Suggested merit badges in the follow- ing subjects were disap- proved: Oilology, Ter- rapin Keeping, Indian- craft, Handling Crowds, Leadership, Rabbit Rais- ing, Tailoring. The following subjects were referred to those in charge of the revision of merit-badge pamphlets in allied subjects: Refores- tation to Forestry; Agri- cultural Crafts to Agricul- ture; Sea Life to Seascout | Swanton | Walter Drow s, Springfield, | | sistant scoutmaster “to Manual; Drumming and make Troop 13 a little Musical Appreciation to different from __ other Bugling and Music. troops. Our main idea PATROL LEADER has not been to be “the + “deen” : INSIGNIA ; ae ose-u of Lynn, Mass., clean- best.” We feel that our se os Tt was recommended | time could be better em- ployed in working up that indescribable thing called “troop spirit.” The scoutmaster is a ten-year veteran scout, who, as a tenderfoot, first organized the troop in 1912. There is a Radio Club, of 14 members, a Wall Scaling club that owns one of the two regulation scaling walls in East Orange, which is used regularly by the 8 members. The Cobra Club meets every Sunday afternoon. Only the older boys are eligible. They have a Rifle Club, with a regulation 50-foot range in the church basement; a Cycling Club, a Signal Club, Lariat Club, Fire by Friction Club, Emergency Club, Traffic Squad. Every week the patrol leaders council made up of all the boys in the troop, meets with the scoutmaster and discusses programs and troop affairs. There are seven patrols, and the colors are awarded to the patrols leading in an inter- patrol efficiency contest. The troop has a 12-piece orchestra, a newspaper, run entirely by the scouts, junior and senior basket-ball leagues, and baseball and football teams. For two years it has ranked first in appearance and disci- pline. It has the largest enrollment of any in the city. Meeting of the National Court of Honor T THE meeting of the National Court of Honor, held January oth, the Chief Scout Executive, in his office of Secretary, reported that during the year 1923, ten ‘gold medals and 71 Letters of Commendation were pre- up campaign methods. that after 1925, all badges for patrol leader rank (tenderfoot, second and first class) be eliminated, and that patrol leaders be dis- tinguished by the regular badges, as are ordinary scouts. The stripes of the senior patrol leader, patrol leader and the assistant patrol leader will be sufficient to designate the rank. FELT AND BRONZE NUMERALS It was recommended that after January r, 1925, metal numerals on scouts’ shirts and coats be omitted, and that only felt. numerals on the sleeve in red and white be used. It was recommended that commissioned officers wear bronze numerals on collar only, after January 1, 1925. It was recommended that the gold stripe for five years’ service should not be worn when the five-year veteran arm badge is worn, nor should two gold service stripes be worn when the ten-year veteran badge is worn. SERVICE STARS It was recommended that after January 1, 1925, the use of service stripes and em- | % broidered veteran badges be eliminated and that service stars should be worn both by scouts and commissioned officers, directly above the left pocket. AUTOMOBILE INSIGNIA In view of the many calls for all kinds of insignia, it was recommended that scout officials use the present flag-staff insignia (Concluded on page 61) YORK COUNCIL BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA 27> WEST MARKET STREET YORK, PA. ~~" DO A GOOD TURN DAILY. # a 0! MR. Frenk CoLVER “Boy S’ LIFE’ 200 Fur AVE LLLEF NEW VoRK Scout Executive Ray F. Zaner of York, Pa., having accepted his quota, sends in the first “installment” of Boys’ Lire Bank Plan subscri ptions—643 in this particular bunch 1924 January 1, | CENTRAL CAMERA CO. Dept,153 24S. Wabash Av. Ch 49 There’s Nothing rattles the windows and Like Music in the Long Winter Evenings When it’s pitch dark outside and the north wind howls thru the trees, its great to gather ’round the fireside for a little music. That’s the time you’ll appreciate a real harmon- ica; and you’ll never know what a real harmonica is until you’ve played a Best Harmonica.” Hohner, “The World’s The Free Hohner Instruction Book will teach you to play, in ten minutes, any tune you can hum or whistle. M. Hohner, New York. If your dealer is out of copies write to Get a Hohner today and play it tonight. 50c up at all dealers. HNER ARMONICAS , SAVE 25% to 60% on slightly GRAFLEX-KODAKS Cameras and Lenses of e' description. Equaitonew. Savemoney. Write now for Free Bargain Book and Catalog = ng hundreds of mones-cevs ‘a ar foode sid on Ci ances dealing wifghey bac Owe F ave Loss in the hotographte business over 1630. Witte nen A Real Railroad you can 5 THE MAHLON L.ELY CO. Ramses | | Catch Fish, A STAMMER 4f you stammer attend no stammering school till you get my large FREE book entitled “STAMMERING, Its Origin and The Ad- vanced Natural Method of Cure,” bound in cloth and stamped in Pure.gold. Ask for special tuition rate and a FREE copy he Natural Speech Magazine.” Largest, best equipped and dl as successful school in the world for ge cure of stammering, Gtuttering, etc. No sing-song or time beat. Write today. The North-Western School, 2328 Grand Ave., Milwaukee, Wis 9 numbers, with my AY Fol. ing, Galvanized Wire Mesh Traps. They catch them like a fly-trap catches flies. Made in allsizes. Strong and durable. Write today for Descriptive Price List, and my Free booklet on best baits for attracting fish and animais. J.F.GREGORY, Dept,150, Lebanon, Mo. a ee For the manufacturer, searches for customers | fresh in millions of min service. For the consumer, it sharp practices. a vital force in business ADVERTISING Knits a Nation Into a Community It is a market place where buyer and maker meet and learn to know and trust each other. science and genius have given to the world to | make living more pleasant and convenient; and a protection agains Advertising is economic. It is the final expres- sion of fair dealing. Naturally it has become | it eliminates distance, everywhere and keeps ds the memory of good is a guide to all that t deceptive values and

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Nature’s Rogue . Gallery No. 1—the Crow A detective can pi out a criminal by finger prints. You detect the criminal eges » : picture and use™@ in hunting birds and beasts of prey that destroy our crops and song birds. Stevens Junior—20 inch round barrel—blued finish military stock. Shoots C. B. Caps, .22 short, long, or long rifle. Weight 2°; Ibs. For only $4 9. 7 ‘ make any difference—if you hold right you'll get tiem with a Stevens. Just take thafmew Stevens Junior for example—a €al honest-to-goodness rifle with a bar@l that is rifled to less than a thous@Pdth of an inch in accuracy—no der it shoots straight! an get this rifle $4.50 you use—the old Fav- working little Visible ater—you can always ire thing—that if it’s a shoot straight. hen today right in od who have been he Stevens for ten and still swear acy and hard And you Whatever modi orite, the smod Loader .22 Re count on one ¢g Stevens it doe You'll} find your neighbor shootingithe saj or twenty yea by it for acc hitting. f J. STEVE . COMPANY Dept. 5 Chicopee Is, Fade 4 Owned and Operated by the Savage drms Cor- poration Retail price — in- cluding tax— $16.25 — Stevens ‘Visible Loader’’ — An accu rate.22caliber repeat- er, smooth working tromboneaction. You can tell at a glance just how many cart- ridges you have left. 1 evens Ni BOYS’ LIFE won’t do it, because it = is too much trouble. Therefore, you boys will have to do it your- selves. If you cut a large limb off, when Arbor Day Forestry (Concluded from page 46) = hollow on which to rest, so it curls in o; | | itself, leaving the hol. | low inside. If one of you boys discovered a pair of the the weight of the limb causes it to fall, it will tear the bark off down the tree trunk, and even if it does not, the stub would cause decay. Fig. 22 shows such a branch a few years after cutting. Fig. 23 shows a cross-section of the tree after ten OLD TREE. years, with the sec- tions of dead tooth in the gum, so to speak. Tie. 24 shows where the dead branch started to decay in the trunk. Fig. 25 shows the proper way, three cuts to remove a large limb. The first is an undercut about half the way through, the second is an uppercut about half the way through, the weight of the branch will cause it to break off with the fracture connecting these two cuts, leaving a stub. The stub must be sawed off close to the trunk as shown by the third cut in Fig. 25. This will leave an up and down wound. A wound exposing the wood is healed by the growth, of the cambium, Fig. . 4 . ° . . 27, which gradually forms new tissue covering “i i. AL Canada ducks breed. ing, ducks supposed to be extinct, many of these scientific guys, with high-brows and hearts of dust, would pay you almost any sum for the skins and eggs of those poor birds, because their skins and eggs are exceedingly rare, and thys Cia “15. Setting board 44‘long4'wide with a notch in center and two notches nearend 6.Fit the center noch at line stake and drive pegs at end notches. 7.. Remove line stake, dig hole, plant Iree so thal trunk fils cent cl er notch the scar, until it is completely healed. The exposed wood of the wound should be daubed with coal tar to protect it from moisture and decay. Fig. 26 shows the section of a one-year-old sapling. Nature does her best to heal a wound; but the inner and outer bark while trying finds no bearing for the growing bark on a rolled wipe out the species altogether. Therefore, it is up to you scouts to put some warm blood in the scientist’s dusty heart, to put some warm blood in the lumberman’s avaricious heart, and to put some warm blood in the commercial hearts of all our people. You can best do this by making a great day of Arbor Day and planting thousands of trees! By the Stars OW can you find the North by the stars otherwise than by the Pole Star? Jack CALDWELL. Dan Beard’s Scouting Section | (Concluded from page 40) Once a Scout 1. When does a scout cease to be a scout as far as the age limit is concerned? 2. Are scouts of 18 The two end stars in the Great Dipper on the side away from the handle, point to the North. So do the two stars in Cassiopeia at the lower edge of the ““W” and the one directly above it. It is not possible to give you definite instructions unless you know the constellations. Get an Astron- omy Merit Badge pamphlet and begin this most fascinating subject at once. For a Wild Life AM a Bronx boy and wish to go camping for about three weeks. Will you kindly tell me some good places where to camp. I want to |camp ina wild looking section about ten miles from a town.—EGANn Brook. The nearest place of a wild nature to go camping is along the Palisades on the Hudson. Electing Officers + \N you elect officers without the scout- master or some scout official at the meet- , /ing?—CaARMEN \ LovETIN. Yes, if the scout- master is willing. D The Pulling Weight of a Bow 1. Howis the pull- ing weight of a bow measured ? — ARCHI- BALD CALDWELL, JR. The pulling weight of a bow means the number of pounds it takes to pull the bow to the arrow head. For 5 ft. bow the arrow should be 24 For 5 ft. 6 inch bow the arrow should be 25 inches. If one says a bow weighs 45 pounds and it is 6 ft. high it means that it will take 45 pounds of drawing the arrow to the head. The weight of a bow is measured with a inches. spring scale or a specially devised scale. The scale must run up to say 75 pounds. The ring is hooked over a strong nail driven into a bench or table or the floor. The bow is braced or strung and made ready. With a yard stick, measure off 28 inches, or whatever the length of the bow, from the hook of the scale and mark this place with a pencil or chalk line. Hook the string to the scale where the arrow comes when shooting and pull the bow back to the marked line. Have some one read the figures on the dial when the bow is drawn back and that will be your weight. years of age to be de- prived of the right to attend the Jamboree next summer, or is that matter to be left to the local first-class council?—Dup Sst (agle Scout). 1. Once a scout always a scout. T hope you wili never drop out of scout- ing. Your age and experience should make you invaluable to your scout- master as senior patrol leader or assistant scoutmaster. 2. It is greatly preferred that only boys under eighteen attend the Jam- boree. In the group of forty-eight scouts who will take part in scouting contests, no boy of that age is permitted. There may be a second group who will not be eligible for contests in which boys of eighteen may perhaps be { permitted. ‘ Wild Cats Wear Neckerchiefs! 1. What is the call of the wild cat patrol? 2. Who now is recognized as the Champion Knot tyer of the Boy Scouts? 3. Is the neck- erchief the sym- bol of the troop or the patrolP— Davin Root t. Yow-iou- iou-iou-iou-iou. March The: not be 1.5 Scoutii Dire Indi subscri 2.A aze ma 3. D ink on. c=

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FOR ALL BOYS 2. We have no official record. A letter was published in the October issue from Scout Curtis Everts, who said he tied thirty-seven in one minute. bate ; 3. The neckerchief is the symbol of the troop Trailing AM interested in the following and reading of trails. Could you suggest where I could find something along that line?—FRANKLYN McKELLAR. “Sign, Signals and Symbols,” by Dan Beard, published by Lippincott & Co., of Philadelphia, Pa. There is a pamphlet printed by the Boy Scouts of America on Stalking, price 15c. The Outing Company publishes a book on tracking, or animal’s tracks. Robin Hood Club 1. Where could I locate the best wood for bows for our Archery Club which we have just organized to go in conjunction with our Robin Hood Club of Scouts. 2. If you have any information in regard to the Robin Hood Club I would be glad to have it —H. W. GARRARD. 1. Troop 3, Drawer 16, Hoquiam, Washing- ton, can supply you with Oregon yew wood. Also L. E. Stemmler, 9415 215th St., Queens, New York, sells lemonwood and archery sup- plies, as well as finished bows and arrows. 2, Name your officers Will Scarlet, Friar Tuck, Littlejohn, Allan-a-Dale. ‘These officers can be your Vice-President, Secretary and Scorekeeper and Armorer. The President of course should be Robin Hood. Conduct the club like any other club. The Scout Neckerchief 1. Will you please tell me whether it is a regulation or not to wear a tie instead of a neckerchief? 2. How many Eagle Scouts are there in the United States? q 3. When you wear your highest rank after becoming a first-class scout, should you wear all of your merit badges, or those you have won over the required ones for the badge?—Eagle Scout C. RoBERT MACBETH. i. You may wear the tie instead of the neckerchief if you wish, although the necker- chief is most scout-like. The old scouts and the cowboys wore them. All boys in your troop should decide upon which they prefer, and dress alike. 2. 2,196 Eagles awarded badges in 1923. 3. When you wear your life scout badge you take off all the other merit badges you won to earn it. You wear the other extra merit badges until you are a Star; then you take those off. Wear the extra badges you are earning for Eagle rank until you win the Eagle. Then take them off. Only the badge of highest rank is worn, because it shows just what badges have been earned to achieve it. Photographic Contest Rules These instructions must be followed, otherwise pictures will not be considered: 1, Pictures must be taken by the contestant and related to Scouting directly or indirectly. Directly: Activities of scouts, hiking, camping work etc. Indirectly: Animal and other nature studies. 2. Photographs for any contest must reach the editor before the 10th of the second month preceding the date of publication. The competition is open to all readers of BOYS’ LIFE. 3, Name and address of sender should be written on back of picture. Pictures without names will not be onsidered. Do not send letters. Do not send negatives. 4. Pictures will not be returned unless a stamped and ad- dressed envelope is enclosed. 5. The Art Editor of BOYS’ LIFE will act as judge of the photographs submitted. 6. A prize of $5.00 will be awarded to the picture or group of pictures from one contestant, judged the best, and a dollar will be paid for every other photograph accepted and pub- lished. Photographs accepted and published become the property of BOYS’ LIFE. | | Rules of the Why-J-Subscribed Contest |. BOYS’ LIFE will give each month a prize of $5.00 for the best letter answering the following questions: a. How you first heard of BOYS’ LIFE. b. What made you, your parents or the giver decide to subscribe? c. Did you earn the subscription price yourself, and, if so, how? You need not have earned your own money, but if you did, tell how. d. How would you tell another boy why he should subscribe for BOYS’ LIFE? 2. Any reader of BOYS’ LIFE under eighteen years of aze may compete, 3. Descriptions must be typewritten, or written legibly in ink on one side of the paper only. 4. Descriptions must not exceed 1,000 words. 5. The riame, address and age of the author, and if a scout his troop number, should appear in the upper right-hand corner of the page of the manuscript. 6. Manuscript must be marked “IFor the Why-I-Subscribed Contest,” and must reach us by the first of the second month preceding the date of the issue. 7. The Editorial Staff of BOYS’ LIFE will act as judges of the letters submitted, and any letter, whether prize winning or not, is to be available for publication. The Quest of the Golden Cities (Continued from page 35) “My leg My side is “Very sick,’ returned Morales. hurts from my toes to my body. beginning to hurt.” ; The leg certainly was swelling fast. The men Jooked at each other. Peter tugged at Pedro’s belt and the gown of Fray Luis. “Get the wise woman,” he whispered, when they stepped apart a little and bent down to hear what he would say. ‘She knows how to cure this. Get her.” “Why didn’t Wiki think of that!’’ exclaimed Pedro. “Wiki! Where’s your wise woman? Bring her with that drink which. cures your own people.” “Her no come,”’ returned Wiki. “She will come!” exciaimed Don Tovar. “Pedro, Sebastian, take Wiki and bring her, and her medicine with her! Quick!” They went at a pace that taxed Peter’s ability to follow them, but fast as they hurried, Wiki found time to shake his head and deliver his opinion that the wise woman would not come. But when they found her—which took some minutes, though the village had not yet retired after its feast, she made no immediate objection. “The big, violent man?” sheasked. “Yes,” said Wiki, translating and then re- peating Don Tovar’s order that she should come at once. “The man who hurts old men,” she said, as if she had not heard the order. She stood quiet for a few seconds, then said something and turned back into the room, with an order to the —- members of the family, grouped er. 1924 ‘She come!” exclaimed Wiki, in an awed voice. Sebastian growled as if to say that he never held any doubts on that score, but Pedro asked: “What did she say?” “‘She say Old Ones willing,” returned Wiki. ‘“‘She say—” He stopped, and stared help- lessly. ‘Here come!” he exclaimed, as if glad to be saved from translating something that taxed his powers of expression. A granddaughter had brought a bowl of black looking liquid, and the old woman herself had found something that looked like a section of stringy root. She put this in her mouth and began to chew it, while the young woman poured the black liquid into a water jar. One of the men of the family took this at a nod from the old woman, and she turned, ready to go with them. But her pace was too slow for the impatient Spaniards. Pedro spoke a word, and he and Sebastian made a “chair” of their hands, picked up the old woman, and hurried away, the Indians laughing as they followed after. In a few minutes, they were before Morales’ tent. The huge snake lay plain in the firelight beside the poisoned man. The old woman glanced from one to the other with her sharp black eyes, and spoke, in the dry, half laughing tone she had used in talking to Wiki early in the evening. “She say big snake bite big scoundrel,” explained Wiki. “Hurry!” commanded Don Tovar. The woman must have understood his remark, for she looked up at him and spoke again. ‘She say why hurry?” said Wiki, when com- 51 Don’t Starve the“Kiddies” Stuffing them with indigestible foods may please their appetites, but it does not build perfect, ro- bust bodies. There is more real muscle-building, bone-making material in Shredded Wheat Biscuit than in potatoes, eggs or mushy porridges— and the crispness of the shreds of baked wheat en- courages thorough chewing, which means good di- gestion and sound teeth. Contains just enough bran to prevent that bane of all childhood—con- stipation. It is an all-day food, delicious for break- fast, for lunch, for dinner. The Shredded Wheat Company, Niagara Falls, N. Y. HERE COMES THE CHIEF! FALL IN, BOYS, AND MAKE IT SNAPPY! Dan Beard Outdoor School A TRAIL-BLAZER IN THE FIELD OF EDUCATION A REAL AMERICAN TRAINING-CAMP DAN BEARD OUTDOOR SCHOOL 87 Bowne Avenue, Flushing, L. I. Endorsed by Educators, Divines, Sportsmen, Doctors, Peace Advocates, Military Men, Scout Officials and by the late Theodore Roosevelt and John Burroughs | BOYS LOVE IT Muscle, Mind, Morals, Manhood Parents Enthusiastically Approve of It Please send full information about your Outdoor School and Camp to Parent's Signature

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manded to translate. *“*She save bad man now, | he try kill better man. Why not let die?”’ “No!” shouted Don Tovar. HE old woman again seemed to understand. She grinned, dropped on her knees, and took from her mouth the substance she had put there on leaving the village. It was chewed flat by this time, and its stringy appearance was gone. She threw back the blanket cover- ing the injured man, grunted, apparently in approval, at sight of the cuts, placed the root or whatever it was on the wound, and motioned to someone to tie it there. Pedro did this, growling under his breath at the whimsical chance which had made him nurse to his enemy. The old’ woman stood up, pointed at Pedro, and in a tone that was itself a jest, spoke. Again Wiki translated. “She say young man save kill him before, try kill him again. Young man live. Good man.” “That part is right,” said Fray Luis. Pedro rose from his knees, blushing furiously. At a nod from the old woman, one of her sons or grandsons poured some of the black looking liquid into a bowl, and held it to Morales’s lips. He looked a question, she nodded, and he drank. “Pah!” he said. cures, all right.” some length. “She says he heave up, pretty quick,’’ re- ported Wiki. “Lose supper, dinner, breakfast -O, much heave up. Then get well, few days. She say no get well if no suck wound. Too much big snake.” “O, heavens, I’m sick!” interrupted Morales, and proceeded to demonstrate that he spoke the truth. The soldiers and Indians drew away; there was no more they could do for a time, and Fray Juan and Fray Luis were stand- ing by, to render physical aid as well as spiri- tual, and direct the gigantic Seri, who lifted his master like a child. Don Tovar spoke to his own servant, who vanished in the direction of the Captain’s tent, and came back with some articles in his hands. “Here, mother,’ said Don Tovar to the old woman. He gave her a very good steel knife, }a bright colored though somewhat worn | woolen mantle, and a brass chain like a heavy | watch chain, though several times larger. The | old woman accepted the gifts with a roguish grin, and said something that Wiki did not | like to translate. ‘She say you no find what you come for, this trip,”’ he reported, at length. ‘“‘She say captain much fine man, have good fortune back where come from, not here.” “Tells fortunes, too, does she?” said Sebas- tian, much impressed. Don Tovar bowed his acknowledgments and turned away, and the soldier, with a glance to the friars, who would hot approve such trafficking in pagan lore, added: ‘Ask her to tell my fortune.” Wiki put the request, and grinned at the brown woman’s answer. “She say you live go back,” he said. ‘She say you marry Indian girl, back south; have five, six, seven children.” A laugh in which the old woman joined went round the group. Pedro put in his oar. “Tcll her to try it on me,” he said. Wiki did so, and the leathery brown face became sober. fellow who try No can do. “Tt’s vile stuff. But if it The old woman spoke at

‘She say you live long time, through much fighting,”’ translated Wiki. ‘She say you find fortune in cold country, much rain, where blue-eyed men live.’’ He pointed to Peter. “Well, what about the rest of us?’’ demanded the other soldiers. The old woman looked at them gravely, then at the flag of Spain before the general’s tent. She pointed to it as she spoke. “She say you—Spain—take but no keep,” said Wiki. “Say tall blue-eyed men from | northeast, from cold country, much rain, they keep. His country,”’ pointing to Peter. “That ag It was all, not another word could be got from her. Pedro and Sebastian carried her back to her house. CHAPTER XI EVERAL days had passed since the snake dance and the eventful night that followed. Don Tovar had waited till Morales was able to travel, and now was headed back to Cibola, or Granada, as the Spaniards called it. The Seri was carrying his master’s arms and armor, Morales had his saddle well padded and often shifted position to favor his injured thigh; but he was alive, and well on the road to recovery. Pe‘er took a good look at him, and turned to his cousin.

“You saved his life, Pedro.” “Remember not our sins,’’ quoted Pedro with a grin. Fray Luis laughed. “It was finely done, Pedro,” he said. ‘* Not many soldiers would do as much for one who was—not a friend. I hope he will remember <a “That blackguard?”’ exclaimed Peter. he!” The grown-up confidence of the remark set Pedro and Sebastian off in a gust of laugh- ter, in which Fray Luis joined. “You cannot tell, Pedrillo,” said the friar. “His heart may have been touched.” “The only thing that will touch his heart to any purpose is a piece of good steel,” said Sebastian. ‘‘ You should have seen him glare at our young man this morning, when he thought no one noticed him. He looked as grateful as a hungry lion.” “He still thinks one of the Indians put that snake in his tent,” said Fray Luis. “So do I,” said Pedro; and while the friar stared in amazement, the young man explained “There was only one snake of that size among all those we saw washed, remember? “Not |

And Pedrillo, here, being fond of reptiles, | noticed that this extra big snake was not carried | in the dance that evening. I haven’t a doubt | that dark-browed fellow—Kupela, they called | him, I think—kept out that snake, and at night, managed to slip past the sentry and leave it for a present to Morales. What is more, I don’t blame Kupela a particle, and kept still so that he might not be punished.” “T am glad you kept still,” said the friar, slowly. ‘Your idea may be true. Morales did insult and anger them in many ways, and that fellow had a surly temper. No matter now, though; Morales is getting well, and for that, he must thank you.” “Don’t forget the wise woman,” said Pedro. “J hear she made some strange prophecies?” said the monk. ‘That she did,” said Pedro and Sebastian together, the older soldier flushing a little as he thought of the promised Indian bride and houseful of children. Pedro went on: “It seems that I am to stay in England when I go there to take Peter back. Well, I never thought it, but if my fortune lies that way, as the brown witch says, I shall not complain. By the way, Pedrillo, you were asking about my dagger. Here it is.” He handed over the weapon, and Peter took it with a curious thrill. The hilt was iron, | inlaid with silver, and provided with a stron¢ | cross-shaped guard. ‘The blade was of the famous Toledo steel, rather narrow, with a keen edge and a point almost like that of a needle. There was lettering on it, too; on one side, the owner’s name; on the other, an in- scription which the boy read out slowly: ““No me saques sin razon; no me embaines sin honor.” “A fine motto,” he said as he handed it back. “Tf one can live up to it,” said Pedro. “Well, one can always try.” Camp was made early that evening, and three men, Sebastian, Pedro and Bernal, set forth to hunt. They came back two hours tater, their bearers bringing a deer, but the hunte rs were in a bad humor. ‘That is the fourth time I have tried to get one of those big wild sheep,” said Pedro. ‘“‘So far, I have not even combed the wool on their backs. One of them is as big as two domestic sheep, and he has the brains of a dozen of our woolly bleaters. Saw you ever the like of the way they can climb?” “T never did,”’ said Bernal. “I served in the same company with a Swiss, once, who told tall stories of the chamois of his native moun- ”

tains. I thought he was lying, but I believe him, now. Those sheep outdo his tallest stories.” I shall ask for the dogs when we get back, and see if we can get some mutton that way,” declared Pedro. * Just now, I havea less pleas- ant duty to perform.” “What is it?” asked Peter. “Come and see, Master Curiosity,” re- torted Pedro. He walked over to Morales’s tent, Peter following, announced himself, and receiv ed word to enter. “I trust you find yourself better, Morales?’ ’ he said, with grave courtesy. ‘Somewhat better, I thank you,” returned Morales. “If I could twist the neck of the pagan who put that snake in my bed, I should recover at once. Will you not make my poor tent your house?” “T thank you,” said Pedro, “but I have other duties that call me. I am rejoiced at your improved health, and hope for a complete recovery.” “You are more than kind,” Morales. Pedro bowed, and left. from the tent, he turned on Peter. “What are you giggling about?” he de- manded. “Why,” returned Peter, “I just remembered that you did kiss Morales, after all!” (To be continued in April Boys’ Sefior answered Once away

Lire)

BOYS’ LIFE ————

Once a Scout— Always a Scout!

If you ever were a real Boy Scout of America, you will be one as long as you live. DON’T QUIT. DON’T LET YOUR MEMBERSHIP LAPSE. KEEP GOING FORWARD. Don’t stop until you are a Veteran, first a five year Veteran—then a ten year Veteran and so on forever. Then you can’t stop—you won’t want to—you are a scout for life. If you can’t keep up actively with your troop you can register as an ASSOCIATE SCOUT. Ask your Scoutmaster to read page 23 of your Handbook. If you can’t connect witha troop you can register as a PIONEER SCOUT. See page 23 of Handbook. When you go away to school or college you can join a troop or a Scout Club if there is one, and keep active. If there is not, you can start one. Anyway you can still carry on in your own troop as an Associate Scout. Register with the National Council the minute you are eligible to VETERAN RANK. You are eligible to this rank just as soon as you have completed five years of continuous service in Scouting. Once registered in the Veteran Scout Associa- tion, you are a Veteran Scout for Life, authorized to wear the Scout uniform and badge of rank, even though unable temporarily to give active service in Scouting. There isa special badge of dis- tinction for Ten Years of Active Service. KEEP ACTIVE UNTIL YOU ARE A “‘TEN YEAR”? MAN. If you have been all through Scouting, and are eighteen years old, BECOME AN ASSISTANT SCOUTMASTER or an expert instructor along some special line. They are very much needed. you are twenty-one BECOME A SCOUTMASTER. The need for scout- masters is tremendous. There is no reason why you should ever stop Scout- ing. Later on there will be a place for you as a trained Scout man, who has come up from the ranks and absolutely knows the game at first hand, as a troop committee or local council member, a Commissioner or Scout Executive—real men’s jobs, every one of them. DON’T QUIT. DON’T LET OTHER SCOUTS QUIT. DON’T LET YOUR SCOUTMASTER Suir. DON’T LET HIM LET YOU The nation cannot afford to lose one boy or man from Scouting. No boy or man once in Scouting can afford to get out of it. Whatever you do, don’t be a deserter. If you must leave the troop and cannot follow any of the above suggestions, then ask for a CERTIFICATE OF HONOR- ABLE DISCHARGE. If your record justifies it, you can secure it through your Scoutmaster. If it does not, you ought to stay by the Movement until your record is such as to give you this opportunity to leave Scouting in an orderly and creditable fashion. The day is coming when the boy who can- not show a certificate of service, indicat- ing that he left Scouting under creditable conditions, will be ashamed to confess that he ever pretended to be a scout. ONCE A SCOUT— ALWAYSA "7

March

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ow Peete FOR ALL BOYS for this column are accepted unles No ad ertts ement Kindly report hey meet the approt al of an expert any unsatisfactory service -] SPECIAL OFFER We bave gathered together stamps that have been accumu- Jating with us for the last five years. These consist of odd stamps, broken sets, etc. All are unused. In order to dispose of them AT ONCE we are making this remarkable offer. MINT MIXTURE 1100 postage stamps Every one unused We guarantee every stamp to be genuine, We guarantee not less than 100 varieties, and not more than 26 copies of any one stamp. Catalogue value over $22.00— while they last— $1.00 Send now while the supply holds out. SCOTT STAMP & COIN CO. 33 West 44th St., New York City BOYS! BIG STAMP BARGAIN! ALL FOR 10c—1 set Airplane stamps, 10 blank approval sheets, ] small album, 1 stamp wallet, 250 hinges, perfor- ation gauge and millimetre scale. 1 triangle stamp, packet stamps from Abyssinia, East Africa, Nyassa, Georgia, Turkey. etc., ete., and price. lists—/ ALL FOR 10¢ and 2c postage to approv al applicants va oe ats Pikes Peak Stamp Co. coicrado Sorings, Colo. BYMOR STAMP BARGAINS! 250 Hinges, 2 Pocket Albums, ro U.S. Stamps, 100 Diff. Foreign, Stamp C ataloging 20c, and Per- foration gauge, all for 15c!_ 1000 mixed stamps, 33¢; 500 Diff. 50c; 50 Fr. Colonies, pH 20 Poland, joc; 1000 Hinges, 10c; List Free. Approvals upon request with each order Ey 10¢ or over. We Buy Collections. BYMOR STAMP COMPANY, Dept. B., St. Louis, Mo. New Offer from Fenway 100 DIFFERENT Stamps from new Europe, mostly unused, including Danzig, Poland, Lithuania, ete. 10c. to new applicants for Fenway net approvals. “Rite-Rite’’ mechanical pencil sent as free premium with every new order. Ask for premium P. FENWAY STAMP CO., Box 84, Fenway Station, BOSTON, MASS. NYASSA GIRAFFES and packet 52 different scarce stamps, FIUME TRIANGLE, All Only 9c. large $1.00 U. 5S. ete., L, St. Louis, Mo. to introduce approvals FENNELL STAMP CO., Dept. 1 58 Genuine Foreign Stamps—Mexico War Issues. Venezuela, Salvador and In- 10c dia Service. Guatemala, China, etc. Only Finest Approval Sheets to 60 per cent, AGENTS WANTED. Big 72-p. Lists Free. We Buy Stamps. Established 29 years. Hussman Stamp Co., Dept. 78, St, Louis, Me. 70 Different Foreign Stamps from \ including Africa, Asia, Aus 70 Different Foreign Countries _} tralia, Europe, West Indies and our pamphlet, which tells you “How to make your collection of stamps properly." For only 16 cents—A BIG BARGAIN Queen City eer & Coin Company, Room 35 604 Race St., Cincinnati, O. | Stamps Free ing for our approval sheets. lide. List of 1500 stamps at le each. names 2 collectors. We buy stamps. ‘B. L. Quaker Stamp Co., Toledo, Ohio STAMPS : eens, . Brazil, | Peru, Cuba, Mexico, Ceylon, Java, etc., and Album, 10c 1000 finely mixed, 40c; 50 different U. S. 25c;10c | hinges, 10c. Agentswanted. 50 percent. List Free buy stamps. C. Stegman, 5951 Cote Brilliante Ave., St. Louis Mo FREE UNUSED GERMAN SET, *rRovat ' Pre-War Value, Millions of Dollars. SELECTIONS Sent to Approval Applicants at 662; ‘% Discount Reference—Boy Scout Mem bershil sufficient. J. de. eJong - 516 West 162d Street, New York, N. Y. STAMP tionary, list of 3000 Bargains and Coupons, 2c. Stamp Album, over 500 illustrations, with dates, names of countries, etc., 3c. Bigger ones 0, 25 100 Used Foreign Stamps all different, free to all send- Postage 2c. Large album, If possible, send 50 all different. Africa, 105 China, Egypt, Etc., Stamp Dic- l4e, 35e, A. BULLARD & CO., 19 ise world catalog of stamps, ggg Tremont St. Dept. ‘As, porters; album manufacturers. 200 DIFFERENT STAMPS 10c ($3.75 Catalog Value) and price-list to those asking for our 50% discount ap- proval sheet. Hinges, 10c per 1000, postpaid. Scott Catalog $1.50, postage extra. K. C. STAMP CO., Dept. 2, 838 Lee Building, Kansas City, Mo. BOYS! A REAL BARGAIN A nice collection of 200 all different, genuine foreign stamps from such countries as Danzig, Roumania, Russia, Sweden, and many others. ‘atulog value over $4 .00—all for EIGHT CENTS to amner al applicants only. H. W. Myers & Co., Dept. A., 915 Florida Street, Richmond, Calif. “Ol, BOYS!” MYSTICS “ MYSTERIOUS” PACKET ! SONTAINS stamps from the lands of cannibals, heathens, sun wor- and wild savages!! Included are LS Malay, Dutch facies, Eiberia Siam, Africa, Abyssinia MYSTIC STAMP CO., Dept. 5, CAMDEN, New York Star Net Approvals FREE—GERMAN OFFICIALS order. Try our bargain counter approvals. | the Panama-Pacific issue of 1912-1913. . North Born yassa Congo, This wonderful packet containing 10 10 all differ: ending 2c for return postage Get these stamps while you can! In use but a short ELMWOOD STAMP CO., 47 Lakeview Ave., Cambridge, Mass. ent (mostly Aa 8 for only 8 cents to approval ap To approval ‘applicants of our H. H. ANVELINK & CO., 2410 Prairie St., Milwaukee, Wis. time and now permanently discontinued by Gov't 1924 ~— i ' Le jmons- sis ELL, boys,” said Mr. Birwood as the three were gathered once more around the library table in the well-furnished, cheerful library, ‘‘our task of listing short biographies of the famous personages shown on our stamps and also recording scenes and events pictured is nearly completed. Here are typewritten copies of our work I have made.” Bob and Harry expressed their thanks. Mr. Birwood resumed: * At our last meeting on Christmas Day we brought our work up to From then on to 1918 only Washington and Franklin are shown. Then the three aeroplane stamps were issued: the 6-cent, orange; 16-cent, green and the 24-cent, carmine rose and blue. These stamps were not confined to use in the air but were equally available for all branches of the postal service. The design used ‘was an aero- plane in flight. On the tenth of December, 1918, the World War came to an end. In the early part of the following year the Post-office prepared a design for a 3-cent (violet) stamp commemorating the event. You boys are, no doubt, familiar with it—the figure of the God- dess of Liberty backed by the grouped flags of our allies. Let us hope there will never be occasion for the issuing of another one. Some collectors are opposed to the use of our stamps for commemorative purposes claiming such issues are unnecessary, the regular designs cov- ering all our needs. I am strongly in favor of them myself. The more a country’s history, development and natural history are shown the greater the value and interest in philately. Glancing over our work one is conscious of a very much epitomized outline of the formation of our nation—at least an idea of the kind of men who are responsible for its existence. The facts we have gleaned will surely add to the interest of our hobby not only in connection | with the exhibition for which we began our work but as a distinct addition to our collec- tions afterward. There, I’ve made quite a speech,” smiled Mr. Birwood. The boys applauded vigorously. Harry said, “1 have shown my collection to friends who have asked me what I found in it to interest me. I have made various answers at different times but when the results of our labor have been added there will be something I can point to beyond the mere collecting. I look at my stamps often enough and I'll have those facts finally so firmly set in mind I'll never forget them. I wish there was a dic- tionary devoted entirely to stamps—their history, technical points about their manufac- ture and so on. I’d spend a lot of my time transferring the information into my book.” “You’re right,” Bob joined in. “I often wonder who the men and women are whose faces I get to know so well. What did they do for their countries to be so honored? Of course we are familiar with most of the present rulers —King George, King Alphonso, King Victor Emanuel. Some of the others have names underneath—names that don’t mean anything to me, and there are plenty of others still who are not identified in any way. I'd like to know who they are and what they did.” ‘“Let’s get up a dictionary or encylopedia of our own,” Harry suggested. “Too big a job. We wouldn't live long enough to finish it. But we ca# work out some of the more important countries.” “Well, then, I guess the best thing for us to do is to finish up the United States first.” Harry put his hand in his inside pocket and “T had a little time to spare drew out a paper. last night and I looked up the Pilgrim Ter- centenary set issued in 1920 and “including three varieties. One-cent, green, the May- flower. A company of one hundred men, women and children set sail from Plymouth, England in the Mayflower on September 6, 1620, bound for America and landed at Cape Cod, December 21 of the same year. They sought religious liberty. Two-cent, carmine rose—landing of the pilgrims in America. Five-cent, deep blue—signing of the compact in the cabin of the Mayflower for the govern- ment of the new colony.” “Very good,’ Mr. Birwood commented, as he placed Harry’s list between the pages of his notebook. ‘And that brings us up to the cur- rent issue in which there are a number of items for our consideration. First, we have Roose- velt. Bob, will you take that assignment, and Harry, McKinley?” The boys were becoming expert at the work and shortly reported: Five-cent, blue. Theodore Roosevelt, born 1858, Colonelof Rough Riders in Spanish-Amer- ican War (1898); Vice-President in 1900, Presi- dent through McKinley’s assassination, 1901; re-elected, 1904, author, explorer; died, 1919. Seven- cent, black. William McKinley, born, 1843, ‘served through the Civil War, twenty-fifth President of the United States, 1896-1901. Held office during war with Spain. Porto Rico and Philippines became colonies. Hawaii applied for admission and was accepted. He was assassinated in 1gor. Mr. Birwood had the data for Cleveland. Twelve-cent, brown, violet. Grover Cleve- land, born, 1837; elected President in 1884; iavored free trade; re-elected in 1892; died, 1908. Then followed rest of the set: Fourteen-cent, dark blue. American Indian. Fifteen-cent, gray. Statue of Liberty, gift of France, stands on Bedloe’s Island, New York harbor; was completed in 1883; from base of pedestal to torch, 305 feet. Twenty-five-cent, deep green. Niagara Falls; Niagara River connecting Lakes On- tario and Erie. Fifteen million cubic feet of water sweep over per minute. Thirty-cent, olive brown. Bison. Fifty-cent, lilac. Arlington Amphitheater, in Arlington Cemetery, Washington, D. C.; dedicated May 15, 1920, a memorial to heroic members of U. S. Army, Navy and Marine, is built of pure white marble. One-dollar, violet brown. Lincoln Memorial, on the banks of the Potomac, Washington. Begun in 1912, completed in 1922. Two-dollar, deep blue. United States Cap- itol, placed on an eminence in Washington; reaches a height of 285 feet, measuring to the top of the figure of Freedom above the dome; its length, 751 feet; estimated cost, $16,000,000. It is here Congress meets and the Supreme Court holds its sittings. Five-dollar, carmine and dark blue. America. “Now, boys. we have only the three aero- plane stamps and finally the portrait of Har- ding which commemorates the loss of our late President. I have a set of the aeroplanes, the 8-cent, dark green, showing an aeroplane pro- peller, the 16-cent, dark blue, with the badge of air service as the main feature and the 24- cent, carmine, with an aeroplane.” Mr. Bir- wood then read the outline of Harding’s life. Nineteen hundred and twenty-three, 2-cent, black. Warren Harding, born in 1865. Elected President of the United States in 1920; opposed Roosevelt’s policies; was editor and publisher of Marion Daily Star, died August 2, 1923. You can have disc wheels too You can have steel disc wheels on your coaster wagon, just as Dad has on his car. And with over-sized rubber tires, too— sturdy, fat, solid rubber tires which ride easily and as swiftly as a racer. Most boys like the wheels this way. But you can also get disc wheels withsteel tires, or wood wheels with steel tires, if you prefer. Substantial steel disc wheels are only one of the many features which make a boy as proud of his Auto-Wheel as Dad is of his Automobile. Just look at the list of other features on the Suto Wheel ‘Coasters and Suto-Carts Besides disc wheels with rubber tires (3 largest have over-size tires), the other features are: steel-tired disc or wood spoke wheels (all wheels interchangeable), self- contained roller bearings, hound brace, hand brake, special hub cap and locking pin, sides mortised and nailed. Write for Catalog which shows all models of the Auto-Wheel and also all models of the Auto-Cart, the Auto-Wheel’s junior companion for your little brother and sister. If you send the names of three local coaster wagon dealers, telling which ones sell the Auto-Wheel, we will give you a year’s subscrip- tion FREE to the “ Auto-Wheel Spokes-man,” a dandy little magazine for a boy like you. Auto-Wheel Coaster Co., Inc. North Tonawanda, N. Y. I A ee GUARANTEED 5 Y ARS ENNEBEC canoes are so well built that we ae them five years. tra wide safety } mer Beautifully finished, low priced and perfectly balanced. SEND FOR FREE CATALOG of latest 1924 models in canoes and rovboats and name of dealer. KENNEBEC CCAnGEE BONANZA BARGAIN OFFER _ Set German Air Post, Eight different China heen Ships, and 50 different unused Hungary, cataloging over $1.50. Millimetre scale, ruler, and perforation gauge. To those re- pve our new SUDDEN SERVICE approvals—9c. Fennell S.amp Co., Dept. L2, Fullerton Bidg., St. Louis. I send selec- 70% DISCOUNT 1, 2004 selec: sirable stamps on approval at 70 per cent. discount from standard catalogue prices, Reference required—Boy Scout membership sufficient. J. EMORY RENOLL, Dept. K., Hanover, Penna. SOME M re) RE No. 111 to 123 Hungary Cat. 86... . oi. ccicce -10 No. 320 to 324 Liberia registration stamps .40 No. 460 to 467 Latvia cat. 16c................ -07 No. 175 and ,e Salvador cat. l6c............. -08 proval sheets at half catalog MT. CARMEL STAMP CO., Mt. Carmel, Conn. and 150 ” foreign MEXICAN DOLLAR BILL stamps for a dime. Mesican $5 bill and 20 different unused stam dime. Confederate States bill and 25 diff, "Poland Stamps foradime. 1000 foreign mission mixture only 35« C. NAGLE, 1101 Marion, Reading, Pa. STAMP COLLECTING “LEADER” Pkt. to approval applicants sending 2c stamp. 1,000 best peelable hinges in tin box with watermark de- tector —— 17¢. 100 Var., 10¢e; 50 Var. Fr. EARL STAMP CO., 1811 bath tess North, Minneapolis, Mina. ! ! No eptoeee = my bargain = -y ngary, 9c; 20 e: 80, Czecho, 18c, 100 French Colonies, 40c; 10 0 pos, 30c; 100 Bavaria. 30¢; 100 Austria, 10c; 50 Poland, 15c. Collections 100 for 6c; 200 ‘for 15¢. Approvals the best that money can buy. Try us. Eureka Stamp Co., 19 Florence P!., Prince Bay, N. Y. 100 "Snes" FREE STAMPS toa eames or Popular Net Apprev: ab. tage 2c. - RISTENSEN SPAM co: ,}- a Wis. Sycamore Bide. ** 100 DIFFERENT STAMPS FREE Postage To applicants for our Popular 2c extra. a0 erences. 500 All diff. ACHUS STAMP CO. 147 e. Ave. Jersey City, N. J. Approvals. Soc.

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Boys, this handy pocket

Some Points on Operating An Amateur Station The Antenna Switch Vaule® last month, two interesting | | bulb transmitting systems. We shall now be gin to tell how to use them. By “using | them,” we do not mean the electrical process of making them work, but rather how the transmitter should be co-ordinated with the receiving set—in other words, how intercom- We described,

somit rem, described in last month’s RADIO TOWER. The connections are indicated in Figure 1, which is a photograph of a switch of this type. It will be observed, that while the tubes are protected during transmission, by breaking the plate circuit, no provision is made for cutting off power to the key during reception, as there are not sufficient blades and contacts on the switch to do this. There is little danger, however, as the surge from a spark coil I. C. W. set is not dangerous, and will only disturb

BOYS’ LIFE switch, thus placing the switches and key for immediate manipulation by the right hand, while the left is used for tuning. Efficient operation of a radio station is necessarily accompanied with quick, sure actions, and the least amount of lost motion. This should always be considered in the wiring and placing switches, particularly that one (and certainly not more than two) which is nec- essary to change from transmitting to receiving. How to Make a Simple Dial

munication should be carried on. In the first place, there must be some way of reception for a few seconds. Care should be taken, of course, not to accidently hit the key, Photograph and Idea by C. M. Brown Dials are not very expensive, changing quickly from trans- | mitting to receiving. Time is —_ a ™ but radio, in many cases, is a often lost in effecting this | thing wherein every penny change, and there is little that exasperates an experienced much as waiting ten to fifteen seconds for a slow station to come back at him. Slowness is generally operator so

Chat With The Department Editor Well, 0. M., another month has rolled by, and we have about ten days to go before the closing of our contest on the first of March. With all the interest that a contest arouses (for there isn’t one of us who doesn’t prick up his ears at the possibility of finding a new name for a cough sy rup, or a title for a picture) it’s queer that our interest is, in so many cases, only passive. We all like to read about contests, maybe play a little with it, and figure out what we should do with the prizes. if we could only bring ourselves to the point of taking action. And then, when the winners are finally announced, we discover that our contribution (had we only contributed!) would have counts, and here’s a way that a boy, who combines the two hobbies of radio and photo- graphy, can make for himself very presentable dials for a few cents apiece. ‘The idea is to buy a standard

FOI radit of A Stat Con’ one. from ermn for 1

° I d f B d . caused by the necessity on the ; : size index Oo roa casting part of the operator of throw- : been ever so much better than the best received. pe rsonally have been interested * dial, photograph it to the . t b in hundreds of prize contests, but have never taken part in a single one of them, rd . - Stations, Record and Atlas ing more than one Swit h when : And yet, I'm thoroughly convinced, that, had I, | should have won everything ae a cle sired size, paste the print ‘ : changmg from receiving to -~ tive dollar gold Piewe to a Bush automobile, Just think, without a doubt, I'd be : on fiber or cardboard, and : H > iti ; . milhonaire by now: 4 + « ates ’ 1S the biggest ten of tran “isciens a ogg With ; And so, without bothering to point out so obvious a moral, I suggest that you a a ceive : : . ¢ at s ‘ f ; | tinuous wave station, may result in the loss of to transmitting sets. This is not necessary, eat ORA: Sai P Sasenedl " 9 | several words. and both the transmitter and the receiver YOM RK? “A ee —s ‘ell? BURGESS BATTERY COMPANY However, it is not necessary to build or should be permanently grounded—using the ) ORK? Are you receiving me welli This eter eae vm os 3 a A BS a QRK: I am receiving you well. . encincers - DRY BATTERIES - Manuracturers | purchase so elaborate a switch as that shown same good ground if convenient. is ask |P é (d) QRM? A i terfered with’ FLASHLIGHT - RADIO - IGNITION + TELEPHONE | in Figure 2, which, however, would be a desir- The change-over switch, with all other : re you being interfere with? TOW GENERAL SALES OFrice: HARRIS TRUST BLDG..CHicAso | able and businesslike addition to the troop necessary power controls in constant use, QRM: Tam being interfered with. , almo: SS ee station. A double-pole double-throw porcelain should be located near to the transmitting key (c) QTA? Shall 1 repeat the last radiogram? answ “nae base switch, costing about forty cents, will as shown in Figure 2. It is then a good idea to ©@T-\: Please repeat the last radiogram. ticabl wew YORK Boston KANSAS CITY MINNEAPOLIS | — 8 = .3 2 E alge s _— » ‘ “ se WASHINGTON PITTSBURGH — ST.LOUIS WEW ORLEANS |work very nicely with é ek of the sets have the receiving set to the left of the transfer QUESTION \re you familiar with the iN CANADA PLANTS. NIAGARA FALLS AND WINNIPEG BRANCHES: TORONTO MONTREAL ST. JOH

BURGESS BATTERY COMPANY Dept. 75, Madison, Wis. Inclosed is ( ) cents for which please send me postpaid copies (not more than three) of the Burgess Index of Broadcasting Stations, Record and Atlas.

Dealer’s Name ocsees Er Pere ee rer ee “ City SONOS. «css taes oe m B Dealer’s Name. .............0cc0s eceees sonstes . Bi = Street..... eaaed A : - Saate .. Brice : 0)

March

Page 57

FOR ALL BOYS radio communication laws of the United States of America? ANSWER 2: Yes. I have read ‘The United States Radio Laws and the International Convention.” (This answer is the only correct one. The book in question can be procured from the Superintendent of Documents, Gov- ernment Printing Office, Washington, D. C. for 15 cents.) The Radio Question Box (All questions addressed to THE RADIO gl TESTION BOX will be answered personally, Note the neat, clean appear- ance of this layout es": re * ‘ \ \ The thing can be done. There is no circuit | in the world to which the principle of radio frequency amplification cannot be applied But the adaptation of this system to the ordinary regenerative tuning arrangement is not an easy thing. Indeed, it is a feat that only | an experienced radio experimenter (so ex- perienced that he will not have to ask how it | can be done!), with a well-equipped labora- | tory at his disposal, can enter upon with any | assurance of success. It is for this reason | that THE RADIO QUESTION BOX dis- | courages the attempt on the part of the aver- age enthusiast. Radio frequency amplification is rather a ticklish proposition, and the only way that it has been made practical for everyday use, and by the average fan, has been by working out certain specialized circuits and plans, which, if followed to the letter, will give more or less certain results. It is very seldom in- Look for thé name on the carton Insist on Cunningham Radio Tubes—thére is no higher Quality Now in ames re “oot nt 2909—3 Volts - New Prices On") Cunningham Tubes ffect C-301A—5 Volts 1-4 85 06 7 ( if 3 It is the radio tube that has made possible the broad and far reaching application of pong Dry Batte ty radio telephony, and that plays the most Det. and Amp... important part in the operation of your C3 n0—B5 Volts G best oe names identified with Radio Radio Receiving Set. =o Abs and he will say: **Cunnin: = Cunningham Radio Tubes, standard for Content Detector. $5 The prese athey 7 word **Cunningham’’ all makes of receiving sets, built by one C-11—1.1 Volts .25 on Radio Tubes tells the character and of the world’s largest manufacturers with amp. Dry Battery quality of this product—the ideals, en- Ss pen gineering skill and service given to the Det. and Amp. Ps Radio field since the year 1915 by F. T. cial Base ne ss HE pri trade name is to identify a product or firm in the mind of the buyer. next Radio enthusiast you meet to state one of the mary purpose of a Cunningham. the great scientific organization, , C-12—Similar ‘to c - The care and ation of each modet search Labora- 11 with stands urd of Receiving Tu ‘ully explained in tory of the Gener- base $5 al Electric Co is our new 40-page me ‘ha dio Tube Data PRook.’* Copies may be obtained by send= r San Francisco office, + Jn ten cents to ou Home Office 182 Second Street SAN FRANCISCO Patent Notices Suzninehan tmes: for amateur, experimental and @ Any other use wil munication. qualifies as a part of one of these “specialized | circuits.” | Our readers who are interested in experi- menting with R. F. amplification are advised not to dismantle or change their present equipment when it is working well. Keep this set as a standby, that you may always have a set, when experimenting with other circuits which seldom work at the first turn of the knob, and as a direct comparison with such but only those of sufficient general interest will be published. This department is maintained for the benefit of all of our readers, and they are in- vited to submit to it their radio difficulties. Hou ever, care should be taken to ask questions that can be answered when supplied with the infor mation furnished by you. Correspondents are requested to look over the back numbers of Boys’ Lire, fo determine whether the question has been answered before, or the circuit already pub- Save ¥/30n| lished and described. It circuits when they is almost impossible to finally function. udgtan ee tell, without personally Select your radio examining the faulty frequency circuit from apparatus, what is a reliable source wrong with a radio set. (a reputable radio} Wri Careful asking of ques- magazine), and pro- | Se us © pest card 4 §4q g , I Address Dept. 8-R cure all new parts for building it. When it |} is working, and you are familiar with the tions will greatly assist this departmem in giv- ing helpful answers.) QUESTION: and we will send you free this 52 page cq logue of radio sets and parjersl list of broadcasting eccentricities of the How can I add radio circuit, then do your radio information, 4 frequency amplifica- experimenting with tion to my single such spares, etc., as circuit regenerative re may be lying about ceiver? your shop. THE RADIO TOWER will ANSWER: publish, in the near Big. 3 This is a question that is asked THE RADIO TOWER many times each week, and, in almost every case, the editor must regretfully eer some interesting and simple radio fre quency circuits with which our readers may cgemeee with far greater assurance of suc- than if they had endeavored to add to their present equipment. answer that such an addition is not prac ces ticable. R. F MONTGOMERY WARD ECO. «| ty St Paws ma. abe: Kansas Ct elling everything direct by mail e usual *‘ Radio-profits.’”” Why ng sold under our Fifty Old Guarantee—Your Money Backif ouAre NotSatisfied. Writetoday for your copy of this complete 52-page Radio Book. Write to our house nearest you Address Dept. 8-R Chicago Kansas City St. Paul Pertiand, Ore. Ft. Worth Oakiand, Cal. -Montgomiery Ward Said a radio expert named Billy, “You may think my method is silly, But take my advice, Sit two hours on ice, In that way you’re bound to get Chili.” Said a radio fan of New York, “One evening I tried to get Cork. I saw without doubt It wouldn’t come out, So I pushed it back in witha fork.” aa am mad!” said a radio fan; “Last night I just picked up Japan, But the stuff all upset And it isn’t dry yet, Oh! why did I open that can?” | _ The Oldest Mail Order House is Today the Most Progressive I 924

Page 58

56 ow sults—if you want distance reception clearly and without in- terference—if you want, economy and ease of| operation—if you want to forget the outside aerial forever—You want a De Forest Re- flex Radiophone. F REE CATALOGS Drop us a postcard for the new De Forest Radio Cata log, giving full descriptions and prices of sets, including cross-continent Reflexes, Au dions, and Parts. |

CHRSTLIBBIREII I J««é

|

} DE FOREST | RADIO TEL. & TEL. CO. Dept. B. L. 7, Jersey City, N. J. De Forest Reflex Radio phone Type D-1o, a 4-tube set at $150.00 using either wet cells or self BERKS

ini

contained dry bas cells. Range on me indoor loop @ @ @ ( irom 1,500 to fail 3,000 miles. & «& Has a reputa *? <:) Ps tion for the ‘| = = clearest recep Ke 9 @ tion of broad casting in ex istence.

World's Finest RADIO SETS AND STANDARD PAR

yi You may have your oice of |

practically any fine radio set #fade. Or, if you prefer to your o » you may seiect the standard pgs to be had without a ; We will | give you horas or loud | speaker un our spare | hours act This wonderfulq Pop anics will find it easy to @ just a little of your f to share in this great distribution now under way. until someone else has covered Get “your oar in first.’ | We supply everything you need to become a successful representative and it doesn’t cost you a single cent. Write to- | day for beautifully illustrated ‘folder de- scribing many Radio outfits, units and parts which you may have for a little of your spare time. If you prefer, you may have real money for the few hours you give us. But don’t delay; send right now for all the facts and our representative’s FREE outfit. Name two references. Popular Mechanics Magazine— | -_— 200 E. Ontario Street, Chicago, Ill. =

1 al F YOU want sure re- || | greeted | I’ve killed. I'll get ten cents apiece for them, | ° too.

BOYS’ LIFE

of them never having heard a radio before. . invalids.” That is what we have been telling you. 73 and C U agn (again) next month.

(Concluded from box on page 54) and a special program was broadcasted. This was a great treat to many of the bedridden inmates, most i . . We have also installed radio sets in several homes of TROOP FIVE RADIO SET—not with a receiver owned by some individual member. cent. of the boys in this troop have recently become so interested in this combined science and art, that they have built sets for themselves, the necessarily elaborate equipment for the entertainment of large audiences was made possible only by the co-operation of all the boys. Get together and put up a real set. his bit, money, apparatus or ability. Then all of you will benefit equally by a splendid installation, which, without this co-operation, would have been denied to the majority. | |

And so the tale continues, a chronicle that is ,still being carried on, of helpful and joyous labor. That's the biggest part of it all. The boys are getting as much pleasure in disseminating this radio cheer, as they : bestow. And you know, this “good turn” business loses half its worth—it’s sort of like tarnished gold : unless you derive pleasure in communicating it to others. We call attention to the fact that all of this good work was accomplished by Troop Five with the Though fifty per Each lad can contribute | | Zen Bouck. ae ee

uma tt stata a

Think and Grin (Concluded from page 47)

Anything Reasonable “Meester Yones, what ees a polah beah?” asked Tony. “A polar bear,” replied Mr. Jones, “is a large, savage animal that inhabits the polar regions.” ‘But Meester Yones, what does he do?” queried Tony, anxiously. “Do? Why, he don’t do anything but sit on the ice and eat fish. Why do you ask?” “Mine oldt frendt Peterson, he die and dey hafe de fun-ne-ral and Meeses Peterson want me to be polah beah. I do anything for her but I not set on ice and eat fish!” And So It Goes A horse can travel a mile without moving more than four feet. Funny, isn’t it? Following On It was the first time an automobile had reached this remote district and a native seeing it was thoroughly astonished as it flashed past in a cloud of dust. “Well,” he exclaimed, “the horses must a bin goin’ at a good speed when they broke the traces!” | A Moving Tale | Teacher: What is the force that makes the | world move? | Bobby: The landlord. | ANSWER T0 “Wauat Is Ir??? Honeycomb. SoLuTION To “JuGGLING WitH MOoNEy”: Arrange all four coins in a pile in the center of the large square!

Bird WalKs (Concluded from page 44)

with hisses and clapping of the beak took to At the same time the wind played a wing. dirty trick by blowing directly in his face. Shag nearly tumbled backwards. I saw him clutch wildly for his hold and turn pale in spots. When he grabbed his nose I knew what Was up. “Oh, boy! this nest is full of last year’s rabbits and a million skunks!” With those words young Bubo went into the nest with more speed than care while with a wild abandon Shag came sliding down that cottonwood. As we left the woods we saw one of the Owls return to the tree where both young were again at home. On the homeward trip along the river we heard someones hooting and presently came upon a small boy. luck to-day,” he “T’ve sure had ] us. [Just at the spatties some look That spring a bounty had been placed upon the head of the English Sparrow. Shag and I went up to where he stood. ‘What kind have you killed?” I asked. “What kind? Why, there’s only one kind. These are all spatties.” Just then, Shag, who had picked one of them up, remarked that it didn’t look quite like English Sparrows should. “He is our Song Sparrow,” I told the hunter. “T thought he was a spattie,”’ said the boy. “Well, the rest are, anyway.” “What about this one,” I replied, “do you see his black forehead? We call him the Swamp Sparrow. I suspect that you found him in some field or along the road.” “Yes, you are right,” the boy answered. “T got him over in Old Tim’s pasture. He | sang as he soared from the ground.” “This one must have dived into Nature’s inkwell head first,”’ remarked Shag as he picked up another “ Spattie.” “Tt does look that way, doesn’t it? He is the Harris Sparrow. Listen, do you hear that plaintive whistling with now and then a queer, | chuckling note? ‘There are a few of them over in that brush heap singing.” | “Gee whiz!” exclaimed the boy, “that one | was with a whole flock of Spatties. How was I to know? About a hundred of them was settin’ in that weed patch this side of the bridge and TI shot into them.” “He isn’t the only one of his kind,” I replied, | “to be found with Spatties. Did you notice that flock that has just settled in the hedge yonder? Hear those two long-whistled notes, the first sliding up to the second and it followed | by a lower repeated three times.” “Like this?” asked Skag, as he puckered his mouth to try the song. |- “Naw, you ain’t got it,” and straightway | the boy went Shag one better. ** Just the same,” replied Shag, feeling some- what chagrined, “you don’t know who he is.” “No, you’ve got me there. What is it?” My, now Shag did swell up as he told him it was the White-crowned Sparrow. I smiled to myself for only a few short hours before Shag had met him for the first time. He didn’t stop there, either, for all the way back to town he told him about the ways of the Long-eared Owls, how the Great Horned Owls nest, adding here and there scraps of knowledge he had picked up along the way. He never batted an eye. As for me, well I kept still because some- how I remembered how I had fed Shag a line on the booming of a Prairie Chicken.

Prize Winning Contest (Concluded from page 39)

want everyone to see and come to conclusions about the grand magazine, Boys’ Lire. g. Have you ever tried to secure a subscrip- tion to Boys’ Lirr? Yes, I have tried and tried again, but never have I come to any success. My ambition and vocation does not reveal to me the secrets of salesmanship and always have I met with failure. 10. Would you be interested in securing an appointment as an official agent of Boys’ LIFE so as to earn $5.00 to $10.00 or more each month? If so, make application on a separate sheet of paper to the Circulation Manager of Boys’ Lire, giving reasons why you should be appointed and promising what you will do. I think and advocate that any boy who has the ability to sell should be encouraged, and here would be a grand opportunity to practice his future profession, besides earning a good sum of money. But I have no such calling and it would be of no value to me to make a blunder at selling the great magazine Boys’ LIFE, so T can’t make an application for salesman.—

HERE!

Why buy amplifying transform- ers of uncertain quality? The General Radio Type 231A Ampli- fying Transformer is backed by a decade of engineering design and research. Every transformer is guaranteed. Price, completely mounted, $5. Send for free Radio Catalog 916Y GENERAL RADIO CO. Massachusetts Ave. and Windsor St. Cambridge, Mass.

909 Sheridan Road, et ARLINGTON Receiving Set Complete $ 7 50 Nothing Else — To Buy—

For all wave lengths up to 4000 meters. This is beyond doubt the best crystal set in the market. Ideal for local broadcasting and yet can pick up code on mostly used wave lengths. Everything complete including head- set, antenna and insulators, nothing else to buy Begin with this set, learn radio—there is a big future for you. HECCO ELECTRIC COMPANY Menominee, Michigan

MAURICE FRANK SCRIBNER, Waterloo, Wisc.

S about this head set sfied tilly ou've tried N&K egrness with which they bring

but produc#® comfortably

New York 15 William St. Dept. B

March

FOR «

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] oes i _- Ss 1924 fOR ALL BOYS LOOK WHAT YOULL GET IN 57 BOVS' LIFE IN SIX MONTHS Your Dollar 24 Instéllments of Buys ‘The Quest of the Golden Cities”’ by George L. Knapp ‘‘Hari, the Jungle Lad’’ by D. G. Mukerji ‘‘Westy Martin, First Class’’ by Percy K. Fitzhugh *‘*The Cruise of the Cuttlefish’’ by Francis Lynde ‘“‘The House by the Gate’’ by Nels Leroy Jorgenson HERE ARE SOME OF THEM: **Envenomed Guards”’ by Paul L. Anderson “The Red Bee”’ by Merritt P. Allen ‘Runnin’ Wilde" by Ralph H. Barbour “The Club Horned Moose”’ by John Beames ‘Bristles, Surnamed Hedgehog”’ by Fred Berthoud ‘The Test Flight’’ by Rex V. Bixby ‘Keep Your Nerve and Flying Speed”’ by Thomp- son Burtis ‘Scarecrow Island’? by Russell Gordon Carter ‘To the Victor the Spoils’”” by Arthur Chapman “The Fire that Failed”’ by John L. Considine “Cheese & Spaghetti’? by George Cawthorne **His Own Breed”’ by Harrison Conrard ‘Stories of Famous Athletes”’ by Walter Camp ‘How to Keep Fit’”’ by Dr. George J. Fisher ‘Pancho of the Knife’’ by Irving Crump ‘Ted Blackman, Camper”’ by Allen Curtis **Mathematics according to Fritz’’ by Fred R. Coe “The Fire Bug”’ by Leon W. Dean ‘Training Secrets’’ by Homer Baker “The Honor System”’ by Arthur B. Reeve *“*The Mucker”’ by Leon W. Dean **Kidd in Shoal Waters’’ by Edwin Cole ‘Seven Iron Swords’”’ by Karl W. Detzer “Coming of the Wharf Rat’”’ by Leon W. Dean “The Wasp of Old Quebec”’ by Karl W. Detzer **Pardners’’ by Mather Brooks “The Black Avenger”’ by Archibald Rutledge “The Courage of Lieut. Cole’’ by Mather Brooks “Grand Spring Opening’’ by Zoe Hartman “The Promotion of Private Marr’’ by Mather Brooks “Hi Grampus’ Farrington “Tongues of Flame’’ by James H. Hull ‘The Drifting Signal’’ by C. T. Jackson ‘‘Lost Spear Head Lode”’ by J. T. Kescel ‘The Night Alarm”’ by J. T. Kescel “The Lantern of Diogenes” by Wm. Joseph, Lancaster ‘The Mustang of Madman’s Gap” by E. Waldo Long. ‘Brief but Lasting’”’ by Mather Brooks “The Resourcefulness of Chuck Terry” by Frank ierce ‘That Dog” by E. Muschamp “Even Up” by G. P. Marquis ‘The Cat Came Back”’ by F. J. Rigney ‘Scouting In Science” a series of articles **The Professional”’ by Earl R. Silvers *Cornered’”’ by Barry Scobee “The Night Watch at Waverly”’ by Dennis Stovall ‘Me and the Portegee Both” by Arthur Gordon Christmas Tree’’ by Frank A8 Department ‘Articles COVERING THE FOLLOWING SUBJECTS: The Radio Tower Pops of Popular Science The World Brotherhood of Boys Photographic Contest Think and Grin What the World is Doing, by A. R. W. Mackreth National Council News **How To Do It”’ by “Skipper Gidney”’ Don’t Miss It! Camping Department Stamps Dan Beard’s Scouting Section Cave Scout A Patrol Leader’s Letters Puzzlecraft Tool Box Notes Songs and Stunts 6 Great Copies Like This BOYS’ LIFE For One Dollar—Use This Coupon Now—> Serials 90 ShortStories & Articles Au ff BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA FIFTH AVENUE BUILDING, NEW .YORK, N, Y. For the enclosed $1.00 please send the bigger and better BOYS’ LIFE for six months beginning with number Name Address (Extra Canadian Postage, 25c. Foreign Postage, 50c) MSM

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BOYS’ LIFE

| about that old piece of bone. Just as we got in front of Moss’s store, Uncle Ben was | coming out to get in How to Put On an

Millions of Years Ago (Concluded from page 33 because the back of your wrist corre. sponds to the knee on the foreleg of the horse,and every thing below the knee c orte-

Amateur Circus A big new book for boys by Fred A. Hacker and Pres- cott W. Eames, who have conducted numerous cir- cuses for schools, clubs, public playgrounds and on Junior Chautauqua circuits. It tells just how to plan and organize the show, how to construct the “ani- mals” and other equipment, describes all kinds of animal and acrobatic acts and clown stunts, gives complete instructions for the big show, the side shows, the parade, how to make up, etc., and how to produce the circus either in a tent or in a school gymnasium or auditorium. Gives detailed instructions for every step of preparation and presentation, with over sixty diagrams, working drawings, sketches and photo- graphs. An elaborate entertainment can be worked up, or a few of the ideas may be selected for a less ambitious show. Will suit any number of partici- pants, of all ages and sizes. Attractive cover in four colors. Price, Board Bound, Postpaid, $1.75. his buggy. Jack showed him the square bone and told him where he found it and asked if it was a fossil. Uncle Ben laughed and said yes, it was the “fossil”? tooth of old man Simmons horse that broke its Jeg and had to be shot last year. We thought he was kidding us at first, be- cause it didn’t have roots like most teeth you and didn’t look a thing like any of the front teeth of a horse. But he said that it was one of the cheek teeth, and showed us on his horse that back of the front teeth there is a space for the bit and back of that teeth with which the horse grinds its food, which were just like the one Jack found. Even if the rest of us had been fooled as much as Jack, we laughed at him and began calling him “‘Old Horse”’’ and ** Bone.” About that time, the scoutmaster came up the street and when we told him what we were laughing about, he said it wasn’t such a joke on Jack after all. Of course, he said, you would not be likely to find a fossil thousands of years old right on top of the ground in the middle of a level field like that, but there were plenty of horses living around here and nearly all over Amer- ica thousands of years ago, and it might take an expert to tell their teeth from those of our modern horses. Besides that, he said, our horses are even more wonderful than any of those Terrible Lizards that died out millions of years ago, or the Hairy Elephants that died out thousands of years ago. Making Uncle Ben’s horse lift up its | foot, the scoutmaster showed us a little | roundi: h, bare spot covered with thick skin which is hidden by the bunch of hair which hangs down above the back see Send for free descriptive circular T. S. DENISON & CO. 623 S. Wabash | 23 S. Wabash Ave, Dept. 145, ans I. \SOUSA

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SHAW Moror oe MAKES YOUR BIKE A MOTORCYCLE! Ahigh h grade de 4H P. se ‘Speed tts Wmales an hour of a horse’s hoof. That spot, he explained, i one of the things that gives a clue to the folly history of the horse millions of years back. He made me open my hand and then pointed out the three little bumps in the palm at the bottom of the fingers. Those bumps in our hands and on the bottom of our feet correspond to that useless little spot in the middle of the horse’s fetlock. They are also the same as the cushions back of the toes of dogs and cats. Instead of walking on the soles of their feet like we do, or on the balls of their feet with the heels raised like cats and dogs do, horses walk on their toe-nails. The horse’s hoof is just the most perfectly developed toe-nail in the world. What I always thought of as the foot of the horse, is just the last joint of the toe; and the foot is really that part that I thought was like our shins. You see a “horse’s ankle” is not where you would think,

A POLACANTHUS sponds to your hand. while the part that sticks out behind on the hock of the horse’s hind leg corresponds to your hee] The scoutmaster showed us where the splint bones are and said they were sort of fossjl; which showed something of the history of the horse millions of years back, just as the spot of tough skin is all that’s left of the pad on which horses used to walk. Horses have just one toe on each foot, but their ancestors way back and the ancestors of al] other hairy animals once had five toes just as we have. The splintbones are what are left of two of the other toes of the horse. Jack wanted to know what happened to them, and the scout- master explained that the horse j got to running on his toes and gradually dev eloped the middle ones most and quit using the others, so he grad- ually lost them, just as if you didn’t use your arm it would finally get so you couldn’t use it. We got to thinking about what the scout- master said about all hairy animals having grand-daddies millions of years back with five toes and started looking for other animals who showed fossil toes. Marblehead noticed some pig’s feet ina grocery. Besides its two toes, there were remains of two useless toes behind. Rats we found still have the five toes. We are going to watch closely all the animals we meet and see if we can find anything that doesn’t seem to be of any use to them the at they may have used in the past. We've got animals right here in Junction City as wonderful as any of those Terrible Lizards or Hairy Elephants. You don't have to go to the Washington Museum

clam) ike frame ‘ ace . ~. ohat > . udel's Carpentry Guide for free examination. After S | the air of vigorous assurance which the men days examination | will send Sune... hE ME peat : bore. But if this were not enough the badge Address upon the shirt of one of them left no doubt Sa of his official chaarcter. It was this one

who held the dog and the tired beast was panting audibly. “Well, Luke, at it again, hey?” said the game warden, in that counterfeit tone of socia- bility which police officials acquire. “H’lo, Terry,” drawled Luke, not angrily. Surrounding the two men stood the gaping throng of curious boys. One or tw slatternly women gave color to the scene. Somewhat rtdtnerntneei 0 EE gave acntnrr ere aust UL A brief account of what occurred in the first (February issue) in- stalment of ‘‘Westy Martin, First Class.’”’ Start this new serial here—and now.

v | tepid MARTIN, first-class scout of the First Bridgeboro Troop, spent the summer working on his With one hundred dollars in his pocket, payment for his labor MMM

uncle's farm. which he planned to save toward a trip lo

the Yellowstone, and carrying his rifle which he had been allowed to own only wh on the promise to lis father that never would he shoot with it at anything but a target, he said good-bye to his uncle and aunt and the friendly farm hand, Tra, and set out to hike through the would On his way through the woods Westy hears a woods to Chandler, where he take the train to Bridgeboro. shot, then someone running—and finds a small deer lying wounded near the trail. his promise and finish the work begun He realizes that he must break by the runaway, so he shoots the deer.

Mn an ne en

tno tom

Mis_ Ellis’,” Luke said to her. But the little girl did not run over to Mrs. Ellis. She just stood apart, star- ing with a kind of instinctive apprehension. “Well, Luke,” said the game warden, “seems like you got some explainin’ to do this time. What was you doin’ in the woods? Killin’ another deer, hey? When was you goin’ back to get him, Luke? Better get your hat, Luke, and come along with us. Farmer Sands here seen you comin’ out through the back fields aa Then the little girl interrupted the game warden’s talk by rushing pell-mell to her father. Luke put his big, brown hand about her and then Westy noticed that his forearm was tatooed with the figure of a buffalo. “You run along over ter Missie Ellis,’’ said Luke, “and she’ll show yer them pictur’ books; you run like——” Here he arose, slowly, deliberately, as if with the one action to dismiss her and place himself in the hands of the law. Then, suddenly, he lifted her up and kissed her. In all the long time that Westy was destined to know Luke Meadows, this was the only occasion on which he was ever to see him act on impulse. But Westy Martin’s impulse was still quicker. Before the little child was down upon the ol again he spoke, and his own voice sounded strange to him as he saw the gaping loiterers all about, and the astonished gaze of Terry, the game warden. In the boy’s trousers pocket (which is the safe deposit vault with boys) his sweaty palm clutched the hundred and three dollars which he was taking home to save for his trip to the Yellowstone. He had kept one hand about it ever since he left the farm, till his very hand smelled like the roll of

bills. But he clutched it even more tightly now. His voice was not as sure as that unseen clutch. “Tf you’re hunting for the fellow who killed the deer over in the woods,” he said, “then here I am. I’m the one that killed the deer and—and if—if you’re going to take—arrest —anybody you’d better arrest me—because I’m the one that did it. I killed the deer—I admit it. So you better arrest me.” For a few seconds, no one spoke. Then, and it seems odd when you come to think of it, the dog pulled the leash clear out of Terry, the game warden’s hand, and began climbing up on Westy and licking his hand... . (To be continued in A pril Boys’ LiFe) March

tha tail wh Th wol rea clut him But brit he I T lean wid tot fath bloo O trac dazz othe bega On « ask step circl trail Bi He I he f came stain oppo He As if the t that more as pc to lo blow Ag the r diml; havir must spent It we “ C nerve startl ordin Th realiz that broug down “well for y we ea and vy ““W OW chest father the | yearn “Al Rob | Ww The “All r shouk But me kn he shi Wh Jack | and Warre twent; down to Jac Lat sessiot “W Ralph “ \ who } protec their « that o would justice togeth would which for hin “Sol union on stri ceases 1924

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_ of re. On the ing nd, ock eel lint sils ‘all We two | to ut- ing dle ad- our jut- als ted ved me WO less ave tch see ney got ble n't um the ed, ire, ld, to ike FOR ALL BOYS him what lay ahead. ==)" “I'll shoot.” Somewhere there on that tangled moun- tainside was a man who had shot once. One Good Scout (Concluded from page 5) “Den shoot. Ole Pete she bust down: De foot she get cut an’ make freeze. The secon d_ shot ic = =e = Voila!” would come far more readily. Instinctively the mittened fingers clutched on the ice-cold gun. A crackle in a blow-down to the left made him whirl like a top, the butt to his shoulder. But it was only the wind among the frost- brittled twigs. With a little gasp of relief, he hurried on. EN slow minutes more and he came to the sudden end of the trail. For a second he leaned against the trunk of a spruce, his eyes wide, nausea racking his whole body. Trained to the wilderness, the whole grim story of his father’s suffering was written clear on the blood-stained snow. One cold, empty shell lay in a snowshoe track. Ahead stretched only a blanket of dazzling white. Within a hundred yards were other tracks. Those he must find, for there began his real quest. He studied the shallow valley an instant. On either side lay clumps of scrub from which askulking enemy might have tired. One quick step and he stopped to swing wide. He would circle the one to the left, cut the receding trail which might lie beyond. But the blanket of the snow was unbroken. He had made his first false move. Somehow he found his courage waning. But, as he came down again, the sight of the trampled, stained snow below sent him plunging up the opposite slope, his rifle at the advance. He was sure now of what he would find. As if he could see them already, he imagined the tracks leading away up the mountain from that clump of scrub. He edged higher and more to the right. He wanted to see as much as possible at the first glance. Yet he feared to look. Then, as he fought around a tangled blow-down, he saw. The trail led clear. Again he paused to think. Beyond a doubt the man had won the ridge before dark. Joe dimly remembered Mr. Snaborn’s tale of having built a lean-to on the other side. It must have been in this where the man had spent the night. It could be no other way. It was all so plain that he rushed ahead. If he could only win the shore of that little lake at the mountain’s foot, before his quarry had won too long a start! Head down, rifle trail- ing, his mind fixed on but one need now, he fought upward. He made no effort to follow the other track. It was easier to chose his own going. The ascent was far easier than he had hoped. Ten minutes and the snow spread below him. But there on the crest he halted, his heart in his mouth. From the shore of the lake at his feet rose a slender spiral of smoke. He would have given his all to have felt his father’s hand on his shoulder. Then came remembrance of why that hand was not there. He had been told he was a man; the time had come to prove it to himself. Crouching low, he began to worm his way toward the end of that unknown trail two hundred yards below. How he did it, he could never tell. How long it took him, he never knew. It seemed centuries before he heard himself grufily ordering “‘Hands up!” and saw a frightened brown face over the steady sight of his rifle. For a long, tense moment nothmg moved. Then came a grunt from one, recognition from the other. ‘‘Pete Ducharme!”’ muttered the boy. “We might have known.” ‘*’Lo, Joe. De pa she get me in de han’, see.’’ With another grunt the half-breed raised a sodden mass of dirty cloth which hid the end of his left arm. ‘‘De han’ she all gone smash,” he explained. “Ole Pete she in bad fix.” “You bet you are,’ snapped Joe. ‘No fault of yours you ain’t a murderer.” “You pa she mak shoot first time.” “Don’t lie,” Joe ordered. “Get up and come with me. And you leave that rifle alone!”’ he added with a crispness which made the half-breed draw back. ‘Get up, I say.” For a second the ugly eyes clung to the rifle, then slowly raised to the determined face. ‘“*Non,”’ he said. “You will.” “Non.” “Tl make you.” “Non.” He pointed dra- matically to the strangely bound foot. But Joe, suspicious, shook his head. ‘No go!” he snapped. ‘‘Get up.” “Tt tak me all de night to get here,”’ an- nounced the breed icily. All thro’. Voila! Pete mak de finish.”’ Joe scented treachery but clearly saw his own difficulty. He could not make the breed move by threats, that was certain. He knew Pete by reputation, knew he was all that was crafty, all that was bad, and he knew that | Pete knew just what he faced, once he arrived | captive at the settlement. If ever a boy was | in a sorry plight, Joe Post was that boy. He tried to find some way out, tried to think what to do. More to gain time than for any- thing else, he pointed to the breed’s foot. “Let’s see it,” he ordered. “Unwind that mess.” Slowly the man obeyed. At last the in- jured foot was exposed. One glance was enough. His hands went over his face. “With a thing like that,’ he asked, ‘why'd you try to kill my father? Why didn’t you ask him to help you?” “IT go crazy maybe. She no feel so good.”’ “‘Should guess she didn’t. You'll lose that | foot—if I can get you out alive,’”’ he added. | The breed looked at him curiously. ‘‘ You | help Pete?’’ he asked in a different tone. | “Of course. Your hand’s bad enough but | that foot’s desperate. I’m not going to let | you die here if I can help it.” “Mais I rob de trap of you pere,”’ Pete. “I almos’ keel heem.” “Forget that!’’ growled the boy. ‘ You’re in trouble, big trouble. It’s up to me to help you. Afterwards will care for itself.” “Merci!” he said slowly, his eyes dumb from the pain he no longer tried to hide. ‘You tak me out an’ I say you one good scout.” Joe Post’s back straightened. There, alone in the wilderness, with a breed whose life rested on his strength and courage and un- selfishness alone, a new thought came to him. “A good scout!” he repeated slowly. “I wonder if I am?” owned “Gee, what a == nerve!” cried Rob, startled out of his | ordinary dignity. : The other boy | realized instinctively Chickens and Vegetables, Inc. (Continued from page 21) = First of all, the swampers have a perfect right to stop | work—in other words to strike — if they wish and they have that talk like this ° brought the President and General Manager down to his level. “Is that so,’”’ he snarled, “well, let me tell you something. It’sall right for you: you sit in the shade and boss while weearn money for you. Ten cents ain’t enough and we ain’t goin’ to stand for it.” “Who are ‘we’?”’ asked Rob,staring. “We're the union,” replied Tug, sticking his chest out, ‘‘and I’m the leader of it.” Tug’s father had recently led a victorious strike of the local steam-fitters’ union and the son yearned for similar honors. “And if you don’t get your pay doubled—” Rob began. “We strike.” The General Manager turned on his heel. “All right, I'll think it over,” he flung over his shoulder as he strolled away. But Tug had one more shot at him. “Let me know your answer by this time to-morrow,” he shouted. When Rob told his story at the dinner table Jack promptly offered half of his stock for sale and was much disappointed when Uncle Warren, who bought it, would only take it at twenty points below the last sale. “Stocks go down when there’s a strike on,” he explained to Jack. Later when the stockholders met in special session the matter was taken up. “What is a union, Judge Thornton?” asked Ralph. “A union is an organization of workingmen who have formed a society for their mutual protection, especially in their dealings with their employers. You can readily understand that one man in a big mill or railroad company would be helpless against any possible in- Justice; whereas all the employees, banded together, would be very powerful indeed and would be able to obtain a great many benefits which would be impossible if every man acted for himself. “Sometimes when the employer and the union can’t agree the men strike work—‘go on strike’ as it is called— and then the question ceases to be one of reason and becomes merely 1924 a test of strength. The men hope that the company will lose so much money because of the stoppage of work that the employers will have to ‘give in’ before the savings of the men are exhausted. On the other hand, the employ- ers hope that the men will have to come back to work soon because their money is gone and so they will be glad to work at the old wages. “Your swampers know that the company has plenty of vegetables coming ripe right now and lots to do, and they think you can’t do without them.” “Not much,” cried Ralph Wyatt, and Jack agreed with him. The counsel of the company turned to the President. ‘What do you think of the swamp- ers, demands?” “T’ve been turning this over in my mind all the afternoon,” Rob answered, ‘‘and I have come to feel that perhaps ten cents an hour isn’t enough, although the swampers only work four hours a day, but I am sure that twenty cents an hour is too much. We might divide the difference and make it fifteen cents an hour, but from some things I have heard I am sure that Tug has set his heart on having a strike. Tf he doesn’t have the strike about this he’ll have it about something else. So I suggest that we let them strike for a few days and_then settle the matter with a compromise. We couldn’t get a compromise now.” “Sounds reasonable,” remarked Uncle Warren. ‘Gentlemen, we can safely leave this matter in the hands of our General Manager. Give your orders, sir.” “First of all, then,” began the General Manager, “I would suggest that William stay near the house. There may be some stones thrown around here.” “But Rob,” cried William in distress, “what about my corn? I must carry my corn.” “Ralph and Jack will carry it together. And look here, you two—no fighting. Do you hear? We are going to be peaceful.” “T think,” said the counsel for the corpora- tion, “‘that this is a good time to advise my clients as to the law on the subject of strikes. ’ moreover a_ perfect right to persuade others not to work, provided —and this is important—that they do not use violence. It would be perfectly legal for our friend Tug Reagan to argue with another swamper who wanted to work for us, but it would be distinctly illegal to punch him in the nose if he couldn’t convince him in any other way. “That’s fine,’ admitted Rob doubtfully, “but I don’t believe the swampers know it. They have no counsel.” “Well, we know it anyway, and that is something. We, on our side, have a perfect right to hire whom we wish, but we cannot molest those who do not wish to work for us and therefore strike. We must be law-abiding and orderly citizens whether other people are or not. The trouble with a strike is that sooner or later somebody uses a club or throws a stone or does something like that and ‘then there is troucle. “Tf you want to know my personal opinion, it is that it is very seldom that either side really wins a strike since both sides lose so much money no matter which side ‘gives in,’ as the children say, in the end. If, after a strike of several weeks, the swampers win or we win, both of us will have lost so much that we shall not have gained enough to make it worth while. To ask who won a strike is like asking who won an earthquake. “Here’s another thing that people are apt to forget and that is, there are three sides to a strike and not two. The third side is the general public. The people who look to us for fresh vegetables and eggs have their rights, too, although they have no concern with our strike, and we have a duty toward them. If they can’t buy their eggs and vegetables, why, in one sense, they lose, too. Don’t let’s forget, then, that we are a ‘service’ corporation and owe a service to our community. Still, our President says we must have a strike and so I suppose we must.” Early the next morning the leader of the striking swampers called on the President and General Manager to hear what he was going “No go no more. | RN at you buy. It he best in quality and agpy store sells Reach goods. ’t find it. for this Catalog And it shows the best of g that you need for baseball, te and _ golf. P ho ideraphs of every article and _ prices. Write Dept. 2. A.J. h Co Werlds Foremost Makgrs of ‘Quality Athletic Goods ot Brantford. Ont.CGanada. | to do. Mothers! Your Children WILL LOVE The Children’s Bible Stories —just starting in CHRISTIAN . CHRISTIAN HERALDS | GERALD, overy week. Told in language every ehild ean under- stand. Stories that will influence and inspire their lives for all time. All real home folks enjoy Christian Herald’s inspiring weekly sermons by the world’s great preach- ers, clean entertaining stories, weekly news digest, Sunday School helps by Dr. Price and Marion Lawrence, stimulating editorials by Dr. Sandison and Dr. Charles M. Sheldon, in- teresting talks by Margaret Sangster and Mar- en Slattery, etc.—over 1,000 pages of good ome reading (52 splendid issues) for $2.00. Christian Herald A Good Influence in the Home SPECIAL BARGAIN OFFERS YOUR MAGAZINES AT REDUCED PRICES All subscriptions for a full year Boys’ Life (12 Issues) $2.00 } Both For Christian Herald (52 Issues )$2.00 ood eprom Claistion Horald) ALL 3 Christian Herald l ALL3 4 Call's Magazine $5.90 | Boys’ Lite }$4.10 e Save 90c “ST | Christian Herald) ALLS istian Hera’ 3 . Modern Priscilla + Brede (Mew) 1 $5.00] Bore’ tte | 94.75 ve $1.00 4 BIE istian Hera ALL 3 | Christian Herald } ALL3 Today's Housewife Pictorial Review or Pathfinder $4 00 Boys’ Life $4.65 Boys’ Life , . os Save 85¢ Woman's Home wa jae 7 ve $1.35 Send Money Order or Check to Boys’ Life, 200 Fifth Ave., New York, N. Y.

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Send for These Free Targ ets | Wouldn’t you like to be the best shot in your neighborhood? Practice with the free targets we'll send you, and remember to use the best BBs, and you'll soon become a dead shot. The secret of good shooting is to get the best am- munition you can. That's why steel Bulls Eye BBs are so good. You will shoot straight with them. They won't stick in your gun. And you can use them over and over again because they do not flatten out. If you want to be an expert marksman with your NEW RIFLE we will help you. If your hardware dealer doesn’t carry Bulls Eye BBs, send us his name and address, together with 8 cents in stamps | We will then send you | and your name and address. a sample tube of smooth, shiny steel Bulls Eye BBs and also some free targets to practice shooting on. BULLS EYE 3102 Snelling Ave., SEnaaaen, ¢ Minn. =“Scoutie Jazz of Pigtail Alley” 7 By W. N. 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Catalogue 1¢ INDIANCRAFT 8B. CO. 466 Connecticut Buffalo, N. Y. SEA SHELLS. where; in brooks, rivers and lukes; on land and inthe sea, They are easily preserved and Shells are to be found every keep forever. Collecting will make your hikes more inter esting. By buying and exchanging your collection will grow rapidly and be a continual joy. Send me 2 dimes and receive, by return mail, 10 beautiful Florida sea shells, all different. W, LERMOND, Gulfport, Fla, WEBER’S BEST ain BEST ey paying chickens, ducks, qj geese & turke “ys. Fine pure-bred quality. ¥7 Fowls, Eggs, Incubators at new tow prices, 42 years poultry experience, and my 100 page Catalog and Breeders’ Guide Free, W.A.Weber, Box 4) Mankato, Minn. SEND US YOUR FILMS Mail us 20c with size film for development eix Ka: or send us six neaanives . any size, on 5x7 cnlargement i io band- vernight Service. ‘oF six prints. come folder puoro FIN ING CO. 257 Gell Ave. a GIVING A PLAY? LET US HELP YOU Send for the Old Tower booklet on “ putting on a show’ containing valuable and definite information for amateurs, and alist of plays suitable for Scout Troops and boys’ clubs. THE OLD TOWER PRESS, LTD. _— 59 E. Adams St., Chicago +. “Well, what’s the answer?”’ he demanded without giving Rob a chance to speak. Rob looked at him smiling. ‘“Twenty cents an hour is a good deal of money, Tug,” he said, “are you sure you wouldn’t take less?” “Not a cent,” returned Tug stoutly. “Sure?” “Surest thing you ever knew.” “Fraid we can’t do it, Tug,” Rob said. Tug turned around and blew a whistle. “Throw down your tools, boys,”’ he shouted, “we're on strike.” With one accord every swamper dropped whatever he had in his hand and started for the street. “Here,”’ cried Rob after them, “put away those tools.” e The swampers broke into a wild yell of defiance. “Put ’em away yourself,” Tug yelled. It wasn’t very pleasant putting away garden tools while the swampers jeered, but Rob picked them up and put them in the barn. Suddenly he stopped short. “Larry,” he said aloud, ‘‘what about Larry? Will he strike too?” Nobody but Larry had ever touched the incubator and in fact nobody else knew anything about it. “What shall we do if Larry strikes?” he asked himself. Larry was sitting in a broken down chair in | the hen house in front of his beloved incubator. “all the other boys are on “Larry,” said Rob, Are you going to strike strike for more pay. too?” * Me strike?” cried Larry, “Why, how can T strike? Who'd take care of the incubator? No, Boss, I’m too busy to strike.” Another lot of swampers whom Rob tried to engage professed their desire to come but feared that “Tug and his gang” would “beat them up,” as they expressed it. Time passed and the garden showed neglect more and more. Then one morning Rob was called to the telephone where a thin voice said in his ear, “Say, Boss, don’t let anybody touch that incubator, will you? Tug and his gang ‘peg- ged’ stones at me this morning so I couldn’t get to work. Now lemme tell you how to turn them eggs over. You zi Rob cut him short. “Where are you, Larry?” Larry told him. “All right, just stay w here you are and we'll come and get you.”’ Then snapping up the receiver he ran down to the lawn. “Ralph, Jack, get busy now! To the rescue! The swampers wouldn’t let Larry come this morning so we’re going to get him. Get your bicycles.” In a flash William stood before him with his hand resting on the handle-bars of his tiny wheel. “No, William, you can’t go; I’m going to lead your bike for Larry and you must stay here on guard and watch the swampers. If they try to start anything you telephone the police. Ready everybody? All right, let her go!” and off they flew. The swampers were amazed to see three boys on bicycles, one of them leading another bicycle, come out and peddle swiftly down the street, and even the dullest swamper realized that things were about to happen. What they did not then realize was that each boy, despite the Judge’s warning against violence, carried a pocketful of stones and had a short club up his sleeve. Nor did they realize that out of an upper window there peered the grim little face of William, who stood with one hand on the telephone. A half an hour later there was a ringing of bicycle bells and there came into view a group of four riders, Rob in front with his club in his hand, behind him Larry Doyle on a wheel far too small for him, and on either side of him Jack and Ralph, their clubs sticking out of their pockets. Larry dismounted by falling off his wheel, but as he scrambled to his feet he waved his hand to William at the window. “Hey, William!” he shouted wild with joy, “Did you see me flyin’ squadron? Oh, boy!” and then darted off to his beloved incubator. “We’re not through,” said Rob gruffly. “Put your bicycles away and come back.” They obeyed without a word for they knew what was on Rob’s mind. The day before William had had a telephone message from a | distracted hostess who had unexpected com- pany coming and wanted corn ‘at once’; so William, against orders, had mounted his bicycle and ridden ‘like the dickens’ to deliver it. On the way back he had been hit on the shoulder by a stone thrown by one Red Mc- Knight. “Come on, come on!” cried Rob impatiently, “hurry up, can’t you?” and off they went again. they were thunderstruck now to see the three boys returning with a group of swampers whom they herded into the garden. directors had left the street, however, they saw their striking swampers bending down to | pick up stones. Right then and there Rob forgot all about his father’s advice. ‘*Come on!” he shouted, waving his club, ‘‘Charge!”’ and three well-bred boys soft-spoken, who always kissed their mothers when they went up to bed, charged several times their number of swampers. That was too much and the swampers ran away as fast as ever they could. It was too much in more ways than one, for the swampers were far from happy. It had been fun to go swimming twice a day and to lounge around on the soft summer grass; but presently, when there was no money left for bats or balls or ice cream sodas, they began to be restless. Tug threatened them with all manner of terrible things and assured them that they would surely win the strike if they only hung on a little longer, but a number of them were openly mutinous and threatened to go back and ask for their jobs at the old rate. Tug managed to suppress that rebellion for the moment, but when Rob’s flying squadron not only brought Larry Doyle to his work but brought other swampers to take their places, they lost their nerve utterly and insisted that Tug talk it over with Rob. If he wouldn’t go, they told him, they would go over themselves. (To be continued in the April Boys’ Lire) Roping Lions in the Grand Canyon (Continued dite page 15) Before the three | SS —— kept on the go, whirling, bounding, leaping, rolling, till it seemed we would never catch him. “If anything breaks, he’ll get one of us,” cried Emett. “TI felt his breath that time.’ How I wish we had some of those fellows here who say lions are rank cowards!” | exclaimed. In one of his sweeping side swings the lion struck the rock and hung there on its flat surface with his tail hanging over. “Attract his attention,’ shouted Emett, “but don’t get too close. Don’t make him jump.” While I slowly maneuvered in front of the lion, Emett slipped behind the rock, lunged for the long tail and got a good hold of it. Then with a whoop he ran around the rock, carrying the kicking, squalling lion clear of the ground. “Now's your chance,”’ he y yelled. * Rope a hind foot! I can hold him.” In a second 1 had a noose fast on both hind paws, and then passed my rope to Kmett. While he held the lion I again climbed the tree, untied the knot that had caused so much trouble. “Not very scientific,” growled Emett, by way of apologizing for our crude work, “ but we had to get him some way.” “Emett, do you know T believe Jones put up a job on us?” T said. “Well, maybe he did. We had the job all right. But we'll make short work of him now. He certainly went at it ina way that alarmed me and would have electrified Jones. While | held the chain Emett muzzled the lion with a stick and a strand of lasso. His big black- smith’s hands held, twisted and tied with remorseless strength. ““Now for the hardest part of it,” “packing him up.” We toiled and drudged upward, resting every few yards, wet with sweat, boiling with heat, parching for water. We slipped and fell, got up to slip and fall again. One hour of unre- mitting labor saw our task finished, far. ‘Then we wearily went down for the other. “This one is the heaviest,” gloomily said Emett. We had to climb partly sidewise with the pole in the hollow of our elbows. Our rests became more frequent. Emett, who had the downward end of the pole, and therefore thrice the weight, whistled when he drew breath. Half the time I saw red mist before my eyes. How I hated the sliding stones! “Wait,” panted Emett younger—than me—wait!” For that Mormon giant—used all his days to strenuous toil, peril and privation—to ask me to wait for him, was a compliment which I said he, so once. “ You’re If the swampers had been astonished before, BOYS’ LIFE Mike O’Sullivan Boosts Joe Pike! Dear Bruce: You‘remember that I wrote you last month about Joe Pike, the fellow who got 15 sub- scriptions for Boys’ Lire in one week? Well, I have been writing to Joe since yoy heard from me. I even got his picture for you to see (wish I could get my old red hair to look half as smooth as Joe’s! I wonder if he uses some of those hair ‘‘stay-putters” advertised in Boys’ LiFe). Anyway, Joe is a REAL salesman. So [ thought I’d do a good turn and use this space to let you see his letter. Look at the way he tackles it! Lines them all up! Scouts first, and a talk to fit each fellow. Mothers next, and just the right words for each one. Then dads and a_ businesslike way with them. With everybody he uses the best argument of all—BOYS’ LIFE for a Christmas present. After Christmas, Joe will be explaining to everyone that the best way to start a boy’s new year is by a subscription to Boys’ Lirr to come each month in 1924; then I bet he picks the subscriptions up all the year around by keeping track of boys’ birthdays! Well, Bruce, you read Joe’s letter. Let me know for sure how you like it. Say! What are you doing with Boys’ Lire? JOE’S LETTER “T found it very interesting work to get subscribers to the Boys’ Lire Magazine, and be- cause of its high standards, it was not so hard to sell as I thought it might be. THE BOYS “The first thing I did was te approach the boys in my troop hoping for 100% sub- scribers. Here I found many boys who said that they could not afford to buy the magazine, but I persuaded them that $2.00 could be saved or earned in a short time. “Then they would reply that they needed more scout equipment, which was more im- portant to them. I told them that this magazine taught them how to use their equipment and how to make it last longer, and I pointed out the interesting stories of adventure written by authors that scouts admire. “To the boys interested in sports, such as football, basketball, and baseball, I showed | that in Boys’ Lire they would find many new | things about these games. In this way, by keeping after the boys and arousing their | interest, I succeeded in obtaining some of my subscriptions. THE MOTHERS “After I got many boys in my troop to subscribe, I went to the mothers of the boys in my neighborhood and told them how this magazine would cultivate a taste for good stories and bring their sons up to be real boy scouts. Most mothers would say that they would rather have their sons read current topics. Then L would point out that the important news items that boys should read were given in this magazine in language that they could understand. “Many mothers said they wanted their sons to read stories written by good authors, and when | told them that Kipling, Douglas Fairbanks and Dan Beard are a few of the authors, they said, ‘Send my first copy next month.’ AND THE FATHERS “Now, fellows, I had succeeded in getting a few subscriptions from scouts and from mothers and of course the next thing to do was to go to the fathers. The men did not say much, but my success depemded upon the businesslike attitude I showed in approaching them. Most of the men said that Christmas was drawing near and they could not afford to buy a magazine at that time, but after | showed them what a splendid magazine it is they often ordered one for a Christmas present for their son. “I feel that the time I worked getting sub- scriptions for Boys’ Lire has helped me, and | am sure each boy who has subscribed will be benefited greatly from reading the magazine.’ What do you say, Bruce? Some salesman! Your buddy, MIKE O’SULLIVAN. P.S.—Don't forget to write, care of Boys’ LiFe, March i i oe as Bo hir the ne" the Itw chu: Wal jum

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e- = :

FOR ALL BOYS

No F uubling, Now! THE $2.00 RENEWS YOUR BOYS’ LIFE! IGNALS, Watch old Tough Luck. team - mate ! Bowl him over! Don’t let him keep you from catching the $2.00 you need to re- new your subscription for the Bigger, Better BOYS’ LIFE. It would be tough luck for sure to miss chumming along with old “Craig Ken- nedy,”’ Zane Grey, “Doug” Fairbanks, Walter Camp, ‘‘Uncle’’ Dan Beard, and all the special department writers ‘and other old favorites. So get the jump on shifty Tough Luck by sending your renewal order in NOW. Mails ‘are slow and copies of the NEW BIG *BOYS’ LIFE go fast. Even if your subscription does not ex- pire right now—get it renewed so you won’t forget and wake up some day to find no copy for you in the mail-man’s bag. Let BOYS’ LIFE extend your subscription for another 12 months RIGHT NOW. We beli ve our plans will make them the 12 greatest months ‘in the history of publishing boys’ mag- See pages 60-61. You Can Catch $2.00 Everywhere there are boys who would be delighted to have BOYS’ LIFE for 1924. Just make a list of all of them. Then start now to call on their parents to tell them you will forward their BOYS’ LIFE Subscriptions NOW. -Tell ‘em they could not choose a bet- ter, more welcome chum for any boy Show them pages 60-61 and stay with them while they read. Come away with their orders. Then do it three times For selling FOUR new yearly subscriptions and sending to us with just $8.00 ($2.00 a piece) we will enter your subscription for one year —or if you prefer we'll send you $2.00 cash reward. Say which. Cover the ground now, team-mate! Address BOYS’ LIFE SALES MANAGER FIFTH AVENUE BUILDING NEW YORK CITY azines. more.

1924 valued I had ever ceived. At last we dropped our burden in the shade of a cedar where the other lions lay, and we stretched ourselves. A long, sweet rest came abruptly to end with Emett’s next words. “The lions are choking! They’re dying of thirst! We must have water!” One glance at the poor, gasping, frothing beasts, proved to me the nature of our ex- tremity. “Water in this desert! Where will we find it? Oh! why, did I forget my canteen!” After all our hopes, our efforts, our tragedies, and finally our wonderful good fortune, to lose these beautiful lions for lack of a little water was sickening, maddening. “Think quick!” cried Emett. “I’m no good; I'm all in. But you must find water. It snowed yesterday. There’s water some- where.” Into my mind flashed a picture of the many little pockets beaten by rains into the shelves more than any re- and promontories of the canyon rim. With the thought I was on the jump. And I found on a ragged promontory many little, round holes, some a foot deep, all fullof clear water. Using my handkerchief as a sponge I filled my cap. Then began my journey down. I carried the cap with both hands and balanced myself like a tight-rope performer. “Good!” ejaculated Emett, when I arrived. If I had not known it already, the way his face changed would have told me of his love for animals. ““Waa-hoo!” Jones’ yell came, breaking the warm quiet of the slope. Our comrade ap- peared riding down. The voice of the Indian, calling to Marc, mingled with the ringing of iron-shod hoofs on the stones. Jones surveyed the small level spot in the shade of the cedars. He gazed from the lions to us, his stern face relaxed, and his dry laugh cracked. “Doggone me, if you didn’t do it!” (To be concluded in A pril Boys’ LiFe)

The Other Fellow’s Point of View (Concluded from page 8)

townsmen who are condemned to live in a place like Springfield. Everywhere you go you will find this exaggerated loyalty to a particular locality, which we call provincialism and which is a form of intolerance, since it has little use for other places and other customs. I was sitting one winter night ina New York hotel with a native New Yorker whose mental horizon did not go beyond Manhattan Island and who thought that civilization had never penetrated west of the Hudson River. It suddenly oc- curred to me that both he and I had been living too long in the shadow of elevated railways, skyscrapers and metropolitan hotels. We needed new images in our minds, wider horizons, a fresh point of view. Having an adventurous spirit, he promised to accompany me wherever I went. Three days later we stepped off the train at Boulder, Colorado, and started across the Great Divide on horse- back. A fierce blizzard was raging and we were warned against making the trip at that time. But we went ahead, got lost at nightfall in a deep ravine and were almost frozen to death when we were finally found by the ranger who had set out after us. But it was worth it for we had lost our stale out- look on life and received a fresh point of view. I felt amply rewarded when, several months later, back in New York I overheard my companion addressing a group of friends as follows: “‘This cramped and narrow life in New York may be all right for you boys if you like it, but give me the wide spaces out West where you can breathe deep and think your own thoughts. Let me tell you about the night I spent crossing the Great Divide. If you can manage it, it is well to start your travels early in life while the mind is still impressionable. | took my first trip abroad on a cattle ship, with fifty dollars in my pocket. 1 was gone three months and saw a great deal of Europe. Although I have taken the trip many times since, this first one with its struggles and its hardships and the daily necessity of earning enough to eat and sleep, was by far the m st enjoyable. I worked with street gangs, unloaded cobblestones from barges and formed amazing contacts with all sorts of people. By absorbing or at least ex- amining their point of view I corrected and broadened my own. I found that a London cab driver’s philosophy of life was fully as good as my own and that a Belgian peasant could talk more intelligently on the politics of the world than I could. But the discovery that amazed me the most was that beneath the differences of language and custom, the foreigner was remarkably like us. The English working man, for in- stance was confronted with precisely the same problems as our own working man. In his tastes, his desires, the whole routine of his life with its petty satisfactions and its petty annoyances, the Frenchman was in no way different from us. This, of course, seemed surprising to me at first, for the very word “foreigner” suggests someone who is strange, remote and different from us. But I found that his chief eccentricity consisted in being born in a different country. This country that he was born in was, according to his views, the best country in the world, but I hardly knew how to blame him for that, since that is precisely the feeling that we have about our own country. If you are talking with an Englishman, you will be surprised to learn that he honestly considers a country better off under a king and a parliament than under a president and a congress. And, if you take the trouble to study his government carefully, vou will be even more surprised to discover that ‘n some respects he is right. Even if your loyalty to your own institutions holds you back from such a conclusion, the fair-minded examination of his point of view is a very healthy and broadening exercise for the mind. In other words you will be gradually acquir- ing that intensely desirable quality of tolerance. For knowledge and tolerance usually travel together. The more’ you learn, the more you will realize the very small compass of the human intelligence and the more prepared you will be to admit that in the large field of knowledge which you have not explored there may lie more truths than in the small parcel of information you have collected. It will be inconvenient, I know, for most of you to pull up stakes and set forth imme diately for foreign places. But [ would con sider it a pleasant obligation upon myself to do this whenever opportunity presents itself. In the meantime, there are shorter journey: open to everyone. ‘There are walking trips and riding trips and excursions by water. [n general I would plan these in such a way that they would take me to surroundings and condi- tions of life as different as possible from those to which I was accustomed. You have no idea how eagerly the mind will respond to the change, how readily it will discharge stale and tiresome images for fresh ones and exchange old ideas for new ones. And there is one kind of travel you can take without moving a step. This is an excursion into other people’s minds, either by reading or in conversation. I would particularly cultivate people who disagreed with me, for in getting the other fellow’s point of view, you will broaden and strengthen your own.

National Council Official News (Concluded from page 40)

screwe:l into the radiator cap, and in addition that the Supply Department furnish a small insignia albout three inches in height, a repro- duction of the first class badge in decalcomania, to be made available to anyone connected with the Boy Scout Movement, either scouts or commissioned officers. The use of the radiator cap is to be confined to scout officials. The Annual Meeting A MEETING of the Executive Board oc- curred January oth. On this occasion the Board discussed plans for the fourteenth Annual Meeting, which will take place in St. Louis, Mo., May 9-10. Committees on Program and Reso- lutions and Nominations were appointed. De- tailed plans will be announced later. LEARN CARTOONING At Home in Your Spare Time by the World Famous Landon Picture Chart Method OU can learn tomake origi- nai drawings with the aid of this remarkable method just as easily as you learned to writé. A series of big pic- ture charts with each lesson on this great course explain i step by step, just how to pro- Reg’ lar Fellars Cc in making original draw- I attribute my success to the ings of your own. complete thorough and any pga criticism service gives you the course I receive eng ‘Byrnes ‘full benefit of the experience of one of America’s foremost newspaper artists. Prepare now for the future The boys of to-day will be the cartoonists of the future. More and more newspapers are recognizing the Landon School as the logical agency from which to secure com- petent cartoonists. Results Tell the Story Here are three of the famous characters created by Landon students who have attained national reputation as Comic Strip Cartoonists. Hundreds of others are producing car- toons on political and national affairs, sports, comic strips, etc. Many successful stu- dents who prefer to work at home are selling their draw- ings by mail. The record of results produced by this school has never been equaled or even approached by any other correspond- ence course. Send now for complete infor- mation, and sample picture chart to test “Cap"' Stubbs pwr your ability. No one could take your course and regret tt Please state your TL og maaiructiens made it possible for me to age do the Edwina Dumm 796 NATIONAL BLDG. jan : LANDON asses Ml CLEVELAND, 0. MONGOL (

Freckles Mere words cannot express my gamete of the course of I received from .the Landon Sc School Merrill Blosser

y, : You get more value when you buy-a Mongol Pencil. The Nation’s Standard

\

Inaclass, ayy itself’ Yhe Oldest er hea Factory in Amerig Estas. NEW ork 1849 WEEE RWW AWW WwW AWE Camp Otter >

‘a Algonquin Park, Ontario Fifth Season, August, 1924 —w— An opportunity to camp in the Cana- dian woods, two hundred miles north of Toronto, at low cost including fare from Cleveland, Ohio. — yw Cruising in a region of a thousand lakes

and rivers, Exploring in a wilderness where the thrills that moved early explorers may be ex- perienced. Fishing in waters that are never fished out. Hunting with gamera in a wild game pre- serve of nearly 3000 square miles. A Camp for boys in the heart of the wilds. —-y— CLAUDE R. LA BARRE, Director 17472 Northwood Ave. Lakewood, Ohio

Page 64

62 The Official * Scout Axe—a Plumb IF your equipment is to be correct, your Scout Axe must be the official axe—the Plumb. It has the red handle, the black head, and the Plumb Take-Up Wedge, that keeps the handle tight. With leather sheath $1.80, at hardware stores. Take Along This File THIS PLUMB ALL-WORK FILE has a sheath to protect the teeth. Carry it with you to sharpem your scout axe, knives, tools, ete. Two files—fine and coarse—in one. [Forged handle is part of file. With sheath, 35c. (except in Far West). a FAYETTE R. PLUMB, Inc. Philadelphia, U. S. A. PLUMB DOUBLE LIFE Hammers Hatchets Files Sledges Axes a ts and Fish Boats — (including nocked-down flat bottom model.) “Beach Model” Special 16-foot Motor Boat. “y" Bottom Motor Boats — More speed with less power. CATALOG FREE 3 Aye ONAL State kind of boat in which interested. “BETTER BOATS at LOWER PRICES” THOMPSON BROS. BOAT MFG. COMPANY 413 is Avenue Peshtigo, Wis. Make Records As You Ride A Veeder cyclometer makes your bike keep track of the miles. Watch it register as you ride; know how far you go and how quick you cover the dis- tance! Have something to show for each trip—your real- distance record on a eden CYCLOMETER Goes on hub of front wheel; easy reading from the saddle. Registers up to 10,000 miles by tenths of a mile— then repeats. Sold by all dealers, or—send $1.50 to THE VEEDER MFG. CO., tistors?Caon. . SUMMER ULVER sCHOOLS A summer at Culverjis man- fashion life Full of sports that demand self-reliance and a@esire to be up and doing all theaime. Swimming, sailing navabcutters, riding In the Paxalr¥) troop, scouting and hikiff®’ and .earning wood- eraft. A two million dollar equipment for the use of boys at Culver during the summer. Uhe best summer for the best kind of a boy. Specify cata- log for Woodcraft, Naval, Cav- ury or Aviation School The Catalogue Dept. Culver, Indiana 1024 | A Special Contribution to Scouting R. BARRON COLLIER, Chairman of the 4 newly authorized Committee on Publicity and Promotion, made a splendid contribution to the Anniversary Week Program. Mr. Col- lier detailed from his ownorganization an expert on publicity who gave all his time, without ex- pense to the Boy Scouts of America, to assisting in the execution of the plans for Anniversary Week. In addition Mr. Collier made, as a contribu- tion to the Movement, from 50,000 to 6 ,o0o car cards to advertise Anniversary Week and to promote Boys’ Lire. The entire services of Mr. Collier’s organization, here and throughout the country, the work of artists and all other incidentals, were covered by Mr. Collier’s generous contribution. The Executive Board extended a vote of thanks to Mr. Collier for his two very practical donations. A New College Scout Club HE University of Montana, Missoula, Mont., has joined the list of scout college clubs. Twenty-five scouts, ranging in rank from Tenderfoot to Eagle and coming from home towns between Maine and California, who have enrolled in the University, have organized a club. Some are scoutmasters in Missoula, some are assistants; all are enthus- iastic scouts. They meet every month and have elected officers. Scouts Hunt Insane Man in the Woods AN INTERESTING test of the use of the radio was made recently in Hartford, Conn. As the test was to be made similar to a real emergency, a dummy man was made and hidden in a patch of woods outside the city. The scoutmasters announced to their troops that a demented man had left his home in a neighboring city and attended to the details BOYS’ LIFE of organizing a searching party. The scouts assembled at a given point and set up their portable radio apparatus. Their movement; were directed entirely from 1AW, which is an amateur radio station. The secretary of the American Relay League operating 1AW, announced by radio that the missing man had been seen last near a deserted house about a mile from the place where the scouts were situated. He instructed them to dismantle the radio equipment and proceed to the house, where they were to search the premises thoroughly and report what they had found. This was done speedily and in a short time Warner received a terse message saying that matches and other evidences of recent occupancy had been discovered. The scouts were then directed to search the surrounding country, particularly the woods to the north of the deserted farm house. The figure of the dummy was found leaning against a tree and the news radioed in to rAW, Greeted by wild enthusiasm we flew up the west coast from California to Seattle, then up into the pan-handle of The Polar Flight of ZR-10 (Concluded from page 23) thick bank of Arctic fog. Try as we might by rising and modi- fying our course we could not run out of it. Alaska, Sitka, Juneau, Mt. Wrangel, Mt. St. Elias, twenty miles wide of ice, huge walls of sapphire, now melting and falling into the sea with a noise of thunder, across the Alaska Mountains below us like a relief map, the Yukon River, with fields of brilliant red and yellow flowers in the val- leys, until at last we were sailing over the Seward Peninsula, with its hemlock and spruce and large cotton-woods, to Nome. At Nome, as at other places behind us, was a mast, a 170-foot mooring mast, as at Field- hurst. Now we waited until the changes were com- pleted to extend the cruising radius of our “Star of the Skies” to double what it had been when she was built. Also the last finish- ing touches were to be put on the radio sta- tion, JAZ, and mooring mast at Point Barrow, which had been delayed by the weather up there. Nome at least had what passed for hotels. There were stores and banks and this summer there were more than ten thousand people there. Here also were organized the dirigible unit and the aeroplane unit, with planes that could land on water, ice or land, in case of emergency relief necessary to reach us. The ZR-1o had an ordinary cruising radius of three to four thousand miles. Changes had in- creased that to nearly double. What interested Ken was the sunshine all day and half or all the night in the Arctic, with the vegetation growing fast. “Down in New Jersey,” explained Ander- son, “in daylight the gas in ZR-70 is heated. The ship rises. Therefore gas must be re- leased to make it heavier, bring it down a bit. But then the precious gas is gone. At night when it gets cooler, the remaining gas contracts. Ballast must be thrown out to lighten the ship then, so it will rise. Up in the Arctic we'll be better off with our twenty-four hour day, perpetual day. There is less contraction and expansion. It is ideal for flying.” It was here while we were waiting at Nome that Rothen and Tighe started playing prac- tical jokes on Ken. I did not like either Tighe or Rothen and was determined to watch them. Then, too, there were the dark Eskimos, shorter than the Indians, with coarse black hair, black eyes, high cheek bones, broad flat noses. Two of them, Anvik and Anuk, were much in evidence. Hanging about Nome, now, we heard much of the real purpose of the trip, of the supposed rich hidden continent up there in the over a million square miles unexplored. The more | I heard of it, the more I wondered was there a | traitor among us? Came ast the morning set for sailing. *s Ken?” It was Commander Scott Bn’t he on board?” I shouted back in the ne hustle and excitement that accompanied e start of each flight. “No. Haakon, Anderson and Rothen have looked all over. They report they can’t find him!’’ He turned away, impatiently. Just then Craig appeared, perspiring in a sheep-lined leather coat, his helmet in_ his hand. He had just heard. “Confound Ken’s insatiable curiosity,” I exclaimed. ‘‘He’s always wandering off to see some natural or native wonder.” Kennedy was troubled. “But, Walter, this isn’t like Ken. He was eager to start. The | Commander will wait an hour. | him.” We must find We had the whole town of Nome upset searching for Ken, but without a trace. “Come on,” decided Craig, ‘‘to the villages! The dogs gave defiant barks; children tumbled out of huts in joy at seeing strangers. The older ones were more quiet. I saw one surly looking fellow standing by his hut. It was Anuk, though I did not know him. He started forward, hesitated, stopped. “Speak English?” asked Craig. The man nodded. “See a boy, about so high?” He pointed at one down by the water. ‘White?” The dark eyes looked at us shrewdly. “So big—so thick?” With dirty hands he em- phasized his gutturals by indicating about Ken’s height and slenderness. Craig nodded eagerly. ‘Him go Slippery Trail. Much gold!” His eyes glittered. “Show the way?” Slowly Anuk’s hand went to his pocket. He pulled out an old greasy pocket book, a gift from some miner, opened it, held it open up- side down. Nothing came out. It was signifi- cant. “All right. gold piece to him. him!” The Eskimo started off ona run. We fol- lowed on to where there were some old aban- doned shafts. Anuk stopped. ‘‘Hear?” Yes, we did hear. It was like a call for help. But we could see no one. Ahead was a shaft. Kennedy pushed ahead of Anuk. “I hear something!” Craig leaned over exultantly. “That Anvik and an Indian lowered me down here!” came Ken’s voice floating up the shaft. “I was saying good-bye to some Eskimo kids. They carried me off.” “Are you all right?” “Only bruised a little. They threw the rope after me. Can you catch it, if I throw it up? I have it coiled.” Anuk was working for more money. He climbed down the shaft like a mountain creature, caught the rope. Then the three of us hauled up Ken easily, scratched and bleed- ing and almost numb. “Was he the man brought you?” I nodded. “No; Anvik and an Indian. Anuk is Eski- mo.” Craig paid him more gold. Anuk was not averse to taking gold to undo what his compan- ion Anvik had done for gold. We pushed on back. But it was far over the hour. Craig was worried. As we came, nearly two hours late, into Nome we could hear the whirr of the engines of ZR-ro. Ken groaned. “I’m your Jonah!” “Good work!” Down the street were Commander Scott, Haakon and Jones. “Couldn’t leave that boy, back.” As Scott spoke I realized that no one could live with a boy like Ken without that boy finding a place in his heart. ‘Kennedy, I thought something was up, somebody wanted to leave you behind. I almost fell in the trap, too!” So it was that at the last minute of sailing we knew there was a traitor among us. We were off at last, nosing our way into the unknown up beyond the tree line of the Arctic circle, over the tundras, vast green marshy plains now, brown frozen plains until the winter snows covered them with white. In the short Arctic summer they were covered by peat moss or tundra in the low lands. We had started with skies blue and air clear and sparkling. Five hours later we ran into a I'll give money.”’ Craig slipped a “More, when you find “Try the radio!” ordered Commander Scott. “I’m not getting a thing,” replied Anderson, “And of course I can’t tell whether anybody is getting anything I’m sending. The direction finder won’t work, either!’ We looked at each other nonplused. If we could not get JAZ, then we were indeed out of touch, lost. “You know, they said that up here in the Arctic one wouldn’t be able to penetrate the auroral band with the radio,” said Ken. “Macmillan disproved that last year,” put in Craig. “Still,” explained Anderson, “it is difficult to get messages here, and I knew it would be. But not on account of the aurora. It is on account of the twenty-four hour day. In winter darkness it is easier.” On we blundered, as near north as we could by dead reckoning, trying always to climb up over the huge fog banks, too. T had all but given it up, decided to trust in luck alone when at last the sun burst forth in dazzling beauty. We had been able to climb above the fogs, for it seemed that the fogs now were lower than they had been farther south But we had been carried far out of our course Where were we? Were we right? Suddenly a voice, a powerful voice sang out even above the drowning drone of the motors. It was Erik. “Look! Land!” We strained our eyes. Sure enough, there was the Arctic paradise. We came down a bit It was clear here. Landing might be made on this mountainous continent with its glaciers, rivers of ice, and green valleys. But if anyone took a chance in one of Jones’s parachutes, which were sale enough, how would he ever get back? And normally it took two hundred men to handle ZR-1o on a landing. We had tried submarines and motor trucks in handling her, with success. But submarines and motor trucks were thou- sands of miles away, now. Commander Scott called for volunteers Erik and Tighe stepped out immediately, even before the rest. Thenwe learned that they were going to attempt the use of a newly de- veloped grappling iron, which was to be cast off by us, and fastened in the earth by them as we floated in over the shore retarded bya gigantic sea-anchor. The air was remarkably quiet and the whole operation was carried out with the utmost success. There was ZR-1o riding safely fastened to the new continent! In relays we all took turns on landing. Soon we were surrounded by these strange men who could not speak our language, nor could any of us speak theirs, even two of the crew who had wintered with the Eskimos. For these peaceable men were not Eskimos. They were blonds, and the Eskimos were dark. The nearest thing to them of which I had ever ’ heard were Stefansson’s blond Eskimos. But even they were vastly different. One after another we took our turn at signs and gibberish. No one had any sue- cess like Erik. Slowly he repeated words. Then, of a sudden, he turned to us, his face glowing. “They are—they must be the lost Vikings!” Phonetically, as nearly as I could make out, the names of these two men we had first seen were Hiak and Akhinot. They were taller than the Eskimos. There was a contrast in their light hair with the coarse black of the Eskimo, eyes almost blue, regular noses. They wore fish- Maré h cae FOR fu hi re je ge col Gen

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ying cent the ods ning AW. rctic ight odi- We out io!” son, ody tion r we it of the put cult on In ruld up t in h in imb 10W ith rse out OTs. ere bit. eus ind safe \nd idle CSS. ou- ers. FOR ALL BOYS a BOB BARR of BOYS’ LIFE! Be Like Him—It Pays! Be BARR is_ headed straight for a success- ful career. He is training himself and making good money as a BOYS’ LIFE subscription representative. He knows how to ‘“‘size up” people and situations cor- rectly. He can _ politely but quickly overcome ob- jections and excuses. He gets what he goes after. Do You Want Cash? Success? Have you enough money for the worthwhile things you need? Don’t let cash shortage stop you! You can win over obstacles and get the money as Bob Barr does! LET BOYS’ LIFE HELP! Hundreds of live fellows are turn- ing spare time—after school and evening hours—into BOYS’ LIFE dollars. Show the New, Bigger, Better BOYS’ LIFE to ys and parents and you can get quick results. Use the coupon.. a enn - -——— BOYS’ LIFE, The Boy Scouts’ Magazine, 200 Fifth Avenue, New York, N. Y. Gentlemen: Please send me details of the Money Earning Methods of BOYS’ LIFE Salesmen, and enroll me as a Special Representative for Spare Time Service. Name Address Father’s Name THAN 25 have written for HILDEBRANDT’S HINTS on flies and spinners. It’s chock- full of live tips about catching every — fish on all kinds of tackle. HILDEBRAND’ baits are efficient and sportsmanlike Write for your copy of HILDEBRANDT’s HINTS to- day. No obligation The JOHN J. HILDEBRANDT CO. 4312° HIGH STREET LOGANSPORT, IND. WAY skin garments now, instead of furs, although they gave us to understand they wore the furs in the winter. The fishskin had an added value in that in case of necessity you could eat it. Word by word Haakon was establishing relationship, that is as near as one could when one’s brothers had gone back thousands upon thousands of years to the Stone Age while you had progressed through the most wonderful thousand years of the human race. We learned of fish, salmon in incredible numbers, whales, walrus, sea otter and fur seal, of fur-bearing land animals, polar bears and a bear like the peculiar Alaskan glacier or kodiak bear, of a white Arctic fox, and a light gray wolf, basal stock of their sledge dogs. It was amazing. Here we were among men who were as our very forebears had been, ages ago, in the days of the sabre-tooth! Ken was keenly interested. It was his first contact with true aborigines. For instance there was a girl who sang and tried hard to please. She carried what proved to be a native drum. Ken knew a drum when he saw it. “But, look! She’s shaking it, instead of beating it!” It was true, she played it like a tambourine unlike the Eskimos. When Ken took the drum and with a couple of sticks started to play it, there was consternation. Was he going to ruin it? He sang the Star Spangled Banner, beating time with his makeshift drumsticks. Hiak’s guests were delighted. One of the women passed Ken a seal’s flipper to eat, a delicacy in token of approval. “Uncle Craig!” Ken was dragging Craig over to the fire. “See, the fireplace is built of black stones. They’re red hot. I saw lots of them, washed round, where the river runs into the sea. But they’re burning. Hiak’s wife is burning stones!” Suddenly Kennedy changed from an ethnol- ogist studying the almost Runic songs to the geologist. “Ken, that’s coal—anthracite!”’ Excited, Ken dragged us to the creek where he had been hunting crabs and had seen the black stones and black earth. Quickly Craig traced them to their source. There, outcropping, was a black bed of coal, standing out between the rocks above and below, six feet or more of it. Hiak was ready with his gibberish. I gath- ered that over the mountains was coal that could be lighted, soft, bituminous coal. Yet here were these people, with millions of tons of coal, freezing in winter! As we took a short cut back to our camp, Kennedy began sniffing. The air was filled with a peculiar smell. The very earth seemed greasy. A pool nearby was coated with a steel blue scum. Hiak again, by signs, made us understand that they laid cloths on this ground and soaked the stuff up to use as medicine, for what I took him to mean, in his pantomime, rheu- matism and sore throats. He indicated that most of his people thought it injured the land and had gone elsewhere to live. As he gestured Kennedy uttered just one word, “Oil!” “Mr. Kennedy,” called Commander Scott, “T will let you name this continent, whatever it is.” “Then I christen it Arctia—the land of surprises!” Arctia it was to us, after that, too. A few hours later where the earth looked a certain way to Craig he had Haakon and another driving a pipe. Suddenly from the pipe came a rush of something slightly bluish, cold. Kennedy gingerly extended a long burn- ing brand. Instantly it lighted, a long tongue of flame! It was natural gas from a cavern underneath. In the long Arctic night I could imagine this flame rising and lighting up the country fer miles around, making a scene wierd, ghostlike, almost terrible. I was amazed. Here was a region perhaps three times the size of Texas, another Alaska, as big as the whole United States east of the Mississippi, the whole area originally in 1783. “Planting the American flag here may be an act of foresight for future generations,” ex- claimed Kennedy, “‘as great a patriotic feat as buying Alaska. We have solved the world’s last geographic riddle!” “And,” I cried, “it makes possible the dream of a regular transpolar air route for mail from London to the Pacific coast and to Asia! That route must cross American territory!” I had half expected an Arctic paradise, perhaps surrounded by volcanoes and hot springs that made it semi-tropical or even temperate. There were hot springs, just as in the Seward Peninsula, and in Iceland, half around the other side of the globe. But it was still far beyond the Polar circle. Kennedy was right—Arctia. With its sunshine all day and night, the con- ,— through curiosity?” tinent of Arctia was a land of wild surprise, | topsy turvy land, here at the top of the world, of which we had known so little. For here some rivers ran uphill, ice sank, or it bent like rubber and flowed like liquid soap. The ocean was hot and these lost Vikings bathed every night in it. Darkness was more agreeable than sunshine. Flowers bloomed. The wind blew vertically—up and down. And there was more food than people knew what to do with. It sounded crazy, but it was true, with explanations. Glacial rivers they were that ran straight up hill. One great glacial sheet, perhaps a thousand miles long and ten thou- sand thick, had down its blue white face in July thousands of rivulets in the ice sheets, the small streams joining in crevasses, growing into roaring torrents. Pressure from behind forced it actually uphill. Almost a geyser in some places spouted up from the body of ice. Of course when there is a certain combina- tion of temperature and barometric pressure, any lump of ice will sink like lead. Also, salt water freezes only when the temperature is down at ten or below, because of its salinity. But between ten and twenty it forms an almost gelatinous mass that bends unbelievably before it breaks. Another thing in this amaz ing Arctia land. Heated air from the equator comes down at the poles and travels back again. If the air-traveller flies high going north, low coming back south, he has, in the main, favorable winds all the way. But before we left, having delayed every hour we dared, we found Arctia indeed a land of wild surprise—not always agreeable. We were just about to be hauled up to the ZR-1o0 when Akhinot came among us again, this time with another native, Neila. To our consternation, by signs we made out that far over on the other side was a pile of rocks which had been set up by some men with beards who had come in a boat the year before. They had planted a flag, a red flag! Commander Scott’s gloom knew no bounds. Then, after all, we had been too late! We could not stop another hour. It was im- perative, if we were to obey our orders on schedule for our own safety, that we not even map more of Arctia that we had done. We must be on to the Pole—and back again, ere began to settle that terrible Arctic night that might otherwise be the night of death for us. So we cut loose the grappling iron, sailed with a bit of heavy feeling in our hearts. On to the Pole, at last! Our feelings rose as observations showed, several hours later, that we were hovering right over it. Down there was the open sea, full of ice floes, gigantic floes. But it was the real top of the world! As the crow flies, it was 1287 miles from Point Barrow to the Pole. We had gone much ovet two thousand miles, however. “And, do you realize, Mr. Jameson,”’ cried Ken to me, “that this is the Fourth of July!” Haakon was tossing over the Santa Claus letters in a big water-tight can specially con- structed so that it would float. On it bore a message to communicate with the Navy De- partment wherever on the earth the can should be carried by ocean currents and picked up. Most likely it would follow the line of drift of the “Jeannette” wreckage across the Pole, down the Greenland Sea, through Denmark Strait between Greenland and Iceland and into the north Atlantic. “Peary found no land,” observed the Com- mander. “He sounded through the ice to a depth of fifteen hundred fathoms without reaching bottom.” Scott was shaking his head in disappointment even in spite of our glorious success. ‘So we are not first here, either. Peary was here, April 6, 1909. We’re nothing more than tourists!” He gave orders to circle the Pole, as near as we could calculate it. Then we were off to complete the flight to Spitzbergen, Nova Zembla and Franz Josef Lang, ....« We were just heaving in sight of Spitzbergen, when Commander Scott, solemn-faced, called Kennedy aside in one of the forward cages. “Kennedy,” he whispered, “it’s happened!” ‘“‘What’s happened?” “Some one has been in my quarters, has stol- en my personal report that I am making, the photographs and maps, all the observations in it that I made of the continent Arctia. It’s missing—the whole thing!” The Commander regarded Kennedy strange- ly a moment. “T don’t like to say it, Kennedy,” he went on under his breath, “but you know how I have been with Ken Adams? He’s the only one I’ve given the freedom of my quarters Do you suppose, not realizing the enormity of it, the kid’s been—er—tampering with things he hesitated. ‘Besides, Pompadours Boys, comb your hair pompadour, orany style you want it. STACOMB makes the hair stay combed just as you comb it. 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64 I don’t know that I like some of his bosom friends—a hundred per cent.!” Kennedy restrained an exclamation. All he said, after a moment, was, “We'll watch. Treat him just as you always have—and watch!” There was coming a sudden change of the comparatively mild temperature The mer- cury was falling fast and low. Great banks of clouds loomed ahead. We could not turnand flee, beat them. ‘The hurricane was upon us almost be- fore we knew it. At first the Commander tried bucking it. But it was not many minutes when we knew that we were indeed in for it, that the best 2 we might hope was to bend to the gigantic will and power of Nature and trust in God. We were scud- ‘ ding down across the Arctic Ocean, before we knew it, headed with the terrific gale, as near as we could make out, for the North Atlantic. Kennedy had been keeping a watchful eye on -Ken. “Uncle Craig,” chattered Ken with the cold, as the water vapor of the clouds in which we were lost seemed to penetrate everything, “this is the first time I’ve felt actually afraid on the trip!” Craig managed to get Ken down along the lower walk where we slept in hammocks and bunks. The wind whistled like an angry spirit through the cables. The cloud was im- penetrable. Our oiled coats shone with the drops of moisture congealing on them. On, on, with irresistible fury the hurricane drove us, relentlessly before it. It was as though Nature resented the presumption of man in prying into her hidden secrets. How small even this great airship seemed as it bucked a cloud more huge and dense even than the one we had just passed through, how fragile, how helpless! It was hard to keep courage. It was like being in a motor-car at seventy an hour when the steering gear suddenly becomes useless. In those few split seconds one can do more thinking than at any other time in one’s life. It was Ken who was imagining that. Craig tried to laugh. But there was an in- tended seriousness in it. “Ken, just now the only one who can steer our wheel is God! We are in his hands!”’ The Commander was issuing orders in his most naval manner. Things were serious when he adopted that. With sudden swoops we seemed to dart down, with a rapidity that invited disaster. Then we would right and, straining and creak- ing, fighting every foot of the way, the ZR-70 was forging ahead with the elements in such a battle as never before had been fought by her. “Get Ken inside—and keep him inside!” ordered Commander Scott. Craig nodded to him. He took the boy by the arm and, as well as he could, piloted him to the corner of the Commander’s quarters. “Vou know, Ken, this part of the ship is se sacred—the records—every- thing!” The dip of the ZR-1o carried the man to the rail. He tried desperately to catch himself It was the gondola containing the cap tain’s cabin and chart room. Terrified, Ken sank in a heap in the dark- ness of the Commander’s own bunk, his face in his hands. For a long time he lay there quietly. Then suddenly he seemed aware that someone, some- thing, was there with him. What was it, up here in the air? Was it an evil spirit? He lay out straight and quiet, listening and watching in the noise of the engine and the elements, almost frantic with fear. Again he heard that noise. It was someone! A sudden flash of lightning. There was a man in the room with him! *He was at the Com- mander’s files and records! Always the orders had been absolute about them. Who was this man? Ken squirmed a little closer. What was his horror to see the man, his back to him, with the precious log book, the treasure of the trip. He held it up, as if he were hunting for certain pages. Suddenly his hand made a motion as if to tear them out. It flashed thr ugh Ken’s mind, “This is the spy Uncle Craig was to catch!” Ken drew himself up, standing on the bunk- edge, clinging. He waited a moment for the careening of the ZR-zo tohelp him. Then with a leap he was on the man’s back, kicking and pummeling him, and screaming for help. The log book dropped to the floor with its partly torn pages. Craig had been on his way to see if Ken was all right. In the door he grappled with someone in the darkness of the crazily pitch- ing airship. The man broke loose. Another wild wallop of the wind, another dip into eternity. Wild- eyed, with black hair stringing about his face, the traitor stood for a moment, trapped. Kennedy reached for him. The man dodged, lost his balance. The dip of the ZR-zo carried him to the rail. He tried desperately to catch himself. But through it he went with a piercing oath. It was Jones! Craig gathered Ken in his arms and forced BOYS’ LIFE him back into the Commander’s quarters where lay the log book safe, with its precious records and observations. There was a quiet smile on Kennedy’s face as Commander Scott stumbled in, clinging for his life in the gale. But he said not a word. The Commander appreciated Craig’s silence better than a flood of words. He reached over and grasped Ken’s hand. “My boy, forgive me—you’re a brick!” Ken looked at Craig. mean? He had done nothing, nothing but his duty. Kennedy never spoke. The storm and the tragedy were speaking loudly enough. On westward and southward we scudded, over the heartless ocean that had engulfed the faithless Jones in a deserved death, on south of Iceland, Greenland, until, as the north wind abated its fury, we saw that we were far above what must be Labrador. How like blind fate it was! The sun had broken out. The clouds had been dissipated. The air was mild again. It was the height of gentle summer. Up the valley of the St. Lawrence we picked our way, limping now, homeward bound. We had crossed the Pole first—had virtually also been first around the world in an airship, in a technical sense. But it was still the continent of Arctia that was on all our minds. Had we failed—come a year too late? Craig had been looking through the scanty effects of Jones. There was the Commander’s report on the continent, the photographs, But among them Ken had found a paper, written in a sort of cipher. It had interested Craig who was trying to figure out Jones. He spent some hours trying to decipher it. “Mr. Jameson,” Ken had evidently been turning something over and over in his mind. At last he had to say it, let it come out. ‘What did the Commander mean—when he said to me—‘My boy, forgive me—you’re a brick?’ I — I my head, interrupting. ‘Oh, nothin .... Just that you want to be careful with whom you make friends. What isit,Craig? Have you found the key?” “Ves! Listen. ‘Find the natives Akhinot and Neila. They will swear to the story of our people the year before on the other coast. I them with my watch and some What did the C. 0 shook bribed trinkets.’” Ken almost danced as Craig decoded it. “Then, Uncle Craig, it was all a fake, that story, a fake by this Jones—Jaune, you say his real name was—the red Bolshevist? We did discover Arctia! It does belong to our country! Hoo—ray!” } Dan Beard, Associate Editor Franklin K. Mathiews, Associate Editor BOYS’ LIFE James E. West, Editor MARCH, 1924 | Woodrow Wilson, 1856-1924 | One Good Scout. Story Over the Border. Story. . Illustrated by | | The Other Fellow’s Point of View Stories of Famous Athletes | How You Can Keep Fit. Westy Martin, First Class. Serial Roping Lions in the Grand Canyon. Tiger Royal. Story. Brewer Corcoran 4 Illustrated by Eugene M. Frandzen Thomas Skinner . Douglas Fairbanks ; Walter Camp Dr. George J. Fisher Percy K. Fitzhugh 10 Illustrated by Richard Holberg The Mad BoomerofMelroy. Story..MerlinMooreTaylor 12 Illustrated by Harry H. A. Burne Serial..Zane Grey 13 Illustrated with photographs Warren Hastings Miller 16 Illustrated by Lynn Bogue Hunt Table of Alan Foster Plan Number Three w ‘Edwin Cole 6 The Polar Flight of ZR-10. 8 Ash-Can Charley. A Perishable Shipment. What the World Is Doing How To Do It. Pops of Popular Science. . Why-I-Subscribed Contest Millions of Years Ago. Chickens and Vegetables, Inc. Honorary President Calvin Coolidge Honorary Vice-Presidents William H. Taft Daniel Carter Beard William G. McAdoo President Colin H. Livingstone National Scout Commissioner Daniel Carter Beard International Scout Commissioner Mortimer L. Schiff | | | exico and Cuba. tq and the date your subscription expires. eee of a renewal subscription, to Boys’ Life, 200 Fifth Avenue, New York, so you will not have to miss a copy. This will help us to serve you promptly. Hawthorne Daniel, Managing Editor "rE. O’Connor, Assistant Editor ° Frank J. Rigney, Art Editor G. P. Coffin, Assistant Editor “a ...George Madison The Quest of the Golden Cities. Serial..GeorgeL.Knapp 34 Illustrated by Wm. C. McNulty Illustrated by Clinton Balmer Serial..Samuel Emery 19 Photographic Contest ‘sno ae oe geal H. J.P — — - The World Brotherhood of Boys. .Edited by E.O’Connor 37 tory rthur B. Reeve : oo Illustrated by Harold Anderson A Wonderful ilend of Deer.... .Francis Dickie 7 Story . Francis J. Rigney 24 Prize Contest Winners jid-wtnbhdatiheeoweaee Tilustrated by the Author Dan Beard’s Scouting Section rer. | Story..... Leon W. Dean 26 Ne ens a Ben nas was ooo eae . 42 Ilustrated by Morgan Stinemetz Bird Walks B.P. Reed 44 . ..A.R.W.Mackreth 27 How You Can Become a Leader..... Frank H. Cheley 45 First Aid _ “Skipper” Gidney 28 Arbor Day Forestry. . ....Dan Beard 46 Photographs by courtesy ot Corte-Scope Company Hiaettated by the Author --F. A. Collins 29 Think and Grin........Edited by Francis J. Rigney 47 : ’ 31 National Council Official News.......... James E.West 48 Science Service 32 Ss Orrin W. Si 53 Photographs by courtesy of the American RAMPS... eee eee eee eees ee Museum of Natural History I S54 is wX%.9-0:0:4:'0 bral okie atete winged Zeh Bouck 54 Treasurer Business Director George D. Pratt Frederic L. Colver Advertising Manager Chief Scout Executive P. W. Willson James E. West Western Advertising Manager Chairman Special BOYS’ LIFE Com. Sen O. Se Wenn: Preis Circulation Manager | r resbrey H. M. Clymer | RENEWALS.—If your magazine comes with a renewal order blank enclosed it means your subscription has expired. Tear off the address on the renewal wrapper and send it with $2.00, the Postage is prepaid to all parts of the United States and possessions, and "also } Canadian postage is 25c. and foreign postage 50c a year. 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is od ay We yur HHL | HE uniform which only members of the Boy Scouts of America are privileged to wear does justice to the lofty aims of the Scout Movement. The clean lines of design, and the trimness of fit, encourage a posture of the wearer which is good for health and promotes the desire to achieve the best in Scouting. The cloth from which it is made is ‘United States Standard Khaki.’’ Its resistance to sun, acid, and | strength tests proves the quality maintained to be | superior to any other khaki. The care with which the Scout uniform is made—the | workmanship, strength of seam, and finish—unite in | producing a sturdiness, that the Scout uniform is prac- | tically never worn out. | | Y-T-Y THE OFFIC] . A ~/ a | SIGMUND = Worthy of Scouting’s High Ideals If the Scout is to wear a uniform at all, his pride and his duty require that it be a uniform truly representative of the organization to which he belongs. This can only be the authorized official uniform of the Boy Scouts of America. Better no uniform than one not official. Spring is coming, bringing in the busiest season of the Scout year. Hikes, rallies, contests—and early prep- arations for summer camp. For inspections, demon- strations, and all formal occasions when Scouts appear as a troop, all should be clad in the nationally supplied official uniform, with identical equipment. Learn what is expected of you, consult the Supply Catalog, and make your outfit and the appearance of your troop worthy of Scouting’s high ideals. \L EQUIPMENT Purchase from your local Scout Outfitter, or by mail from National Scout Supply Service, 200 Fifth Avenue, New York DoO\ scout { EISNER COMPANY, RED BANK, NEW JERSEY ae

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Golden Brown with Ivory White Trim. A modeltosuitevery taste and any pocket book— Roadsters, Racers, Motorbikes, Camel- backs, Double Bars, Scouts, Juveniles— Girls’ and Ladies’ models, too. The free Ranger Catalog offers AA Styles(alorSizes. Prices from $21.50 My Ranger Bike What is a boy without a bike How does the youngster feel Who misses the fun he OUGHT to get A-riding his RANGER Wheel? What is a boy who doesn’t know He must balance himself or FALL? It’s hard to make a man of such, For he isn’t a boy at all. The wit and balance of boys to-day, Spread out in a wholesome span, Will make the balance and common sense Cf a straight and wholesome man. So here’s to my bike—-my RANGER bike; And here’s to the spinning wheels For it makes a man of a normal boy, From his head_to his happy heels. \ JOHN MARTIN. # know the “‘Ranger”’ and have always wanted one, but we ask you to prove it best by personal use, in a thirty day free riding test. So just select from our big Ranger catalog, the one you like best of all. Enjoy its marvelous beauty, marvel at its many features of equipment and convenience, thrill at its speed, and try its comfort and ease of running. If, at the end of 30 days, you find any cause for dis- satisfaction, ship it back at our expense and the trial will not cost you a cent. We mean this and back it by a $5,000.00 cash deposit guaranty at the First & National Bank of Chicago. Direct from the factory, - carefully assembled, ivere ol a oiled and inspected— encased in a waterproof paper bag and packed in special crate, we will ship the Ranger bicycle of your selection by fast prepaid express and guarantee quick delivery in perfect condition. In this way we can serve you as we have millions of other bicycle riders during the past generation. In the busy season we ship as many as three thousand bicycles in a week direct from the Factory to the indi- vidual rider in this way, so you can be sure of prompt, careful treat- ment for your order. The big free Ranger catalog tells you just how to choose. Your Ranger will be delivered to your home in the larger towns anywhere in the United States. You call for the bicycle at the express office in the smaller places. In either case the delivery charges from Chicago will be fully prepaid by the Mead Cycle Company. 00 #5 Save sl0Ptos25% savacane selling expenses added to the cost of your Mead bicycle. Factory-to- Rider saves you big money on your bicycle. Prices from $21.50 up. $5°°Premiumfee tonto n to the regu- lar tool kit given with Ranger bi- cycles, there is an extra set of ac- SPS v a \ MEAD CYCLE CO., Dept. F-18, Chicago, U.S. A. Send me the new Ranger Catalog, Factory-to-Rider wholesale prices, 30-day Free Trial Offer and kasy Payment terms, Ne In tio R.F. D. or Street No Town State cone cessories included free with several ° ° aq" of the Ranger models, fully ex- Factory Distributors In 407 Cities plained in the catalog." ou The nearest city (with a population of 25,000 or more) FreeRan (atalo aad to which I can conveniently visit to select a Mead Ranger is race thru the year on a “Ranger,”’ send for catalog today. Our bargains and terms will open your eyes, but the snappy pictures of the new “‘Rang- ers” will make thenr bulge with wonder. Many of the new features If you have a Special Factory Distributor there, send me letter of introduction to him so I can inspect the Rangers and take delivery from there at Factory Prices or on Easy Payment Plan if I prefer It is very probable that you are found on no other bicycle. Be 352 Month If you do not find it convenient to pay cash for your Ranger bi- cycle, we are prepared to ship it to you at once and permit you to pay for it in Five Dolla monthly payments. Owing to many economies (possible only because you are doing business direct with the maker) the extra charge for extended payment # only slightly higher than our fat tory-to-rider cash prices. Rider Agents Wanted Thousands of boys and young men ia the smaller cities and towns and in the country are making big money acting # Rider Agents, exhibiting and taking or ders for ‘“‘Rangers’”’ from their friends a neighbors. If you want to be a Rider Agent so state when sending for your catalog and we will enclose full details of this famous money- making plan. Eauipped The Ranger “Mo- torbike”’ modelisthe most completely equipped bicycle in the world. (See illustration.) Many other models are also equipped with new and exclus- ive features found on no other bicycles, . at money-saving Factory Prices, are also illustrated and det e . cribed in our big Ranger catalog. Millions of riders have saved money on sundries at our Factory Prices. These hundreds of accessories that add to the comfort and convenience of ay bicycle—lamps, luggage carriers, horns, tires, bells, sirens, pedals, chains, handle bars, locks, rims built-up wheels, hubs and spokes—are carefully selected by our buyers in Chicago and Birmingham, England, from the leading parts makers of the world. Looking through this catalog is just like taking® trip through the largest and greatest bicycle store, seeing bargains, new ideas and conveniences that yo never saw or heard of before. There is no equal for Mead quality, style and price. Fill out the coupon or on a postal card ask for full pat ticulars of our Factory Prices, wonderful offers and en 0 on ey easy payment terms. Protect yourself on the greatest Bicycle Values in the world today, and be the proud owner of a new 1924 ““Ranger”—the supreme bicycle—Young America’s peerless choice Cycle Company Dept.r-is Chicago