Shore Line Sam : the young southern engineer, or, Railroading in war times

previous item | next item

Shore Line Sam : the young southern engineer, or, Railroading in war times

Material Information

Shore Line Sam : the young southern engineer, or, Railroading in war times
Series Title:
Pluck and luck
Merritt, Jas. C.
Place of Publication:
New York, New York
Frank Tousey
Publication Date:
Physical Description:
29 pages ; 28 cm


Subjects / Keywords:
Dime novels ( lcsh )
Adventure stories ( lcsh )
Sea stories ( lcsh )
Treasure troves -- Fiction ( lcsh )
serial ( sobekcm )

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of South Florida
Holding Location:
University of South Florida
Rights Management:
The University of South Florida Libraries believes that the Item is in the Public Domain under the laws of the United States, but a determination was not made as to its copyright status under the copyright laws of other countries. The Item may not be in the Public Domain under the laws of other countries.
Resource Identifier:
033192510 ( ALEPH )
902811816 ( OCLC )
P28-00028 ( USFLDC DOI )
p28.28 ( USFLDC Handle )

Postcard Information



This item has the following downloads:

Full Text


,N;,. 1502 NEW YORK, MARCH 16 1927 Then there was an unearthly, a terrible ex plosion. The ground shook as witb an eartb quake, and the air was full of flying piecei of iron ancl debris. The locomotive had blown up! Price 8 Cents


., PLUCK AND LUCK Issued Weekly-Subscription price, :i;4.UO per year; Canadian, $4.50; Foreign, $5.00. Copyr l g l i t Dy Westbury Publishing Co., Inc., J.40 Cedar Street, New York, N. Y. Entere d as Second Ulass Matter Dec. 8, 1911, at the Post-Ullice at New l'.o rk, N. Y., under the Act of March a, 187:! No. 1502 NEW YORK, MARCH 16, 1927. Price 8 Cents. -ShoreJ Line Sam., THE YOUNG SOUTHERN ENGINEER OR,. RAILROADING IN WAR TIMFS By J AS. C. MERRI-TT CHAPTER I.-A Narrow Escape. "Sam!" "What?" "'Pon honor, I believe there's a man ahead in the middle of the track!" 'l'he Clear Lake and Deep Pass express was thundering over a steep grade through the mountains of Georgia one starlit night in June, 1862. Bill Clemmens, the begrimed fireman, had occu pied the window-seat a moment while Sam Wells, the young engineer, had been performing a few duties in the tender. Clemmens was a rough but whole-souled fellow, who might have run an engine himself years before, had he chosen to do so. But he had mated with Sam Wells, a young engineer from the North, and who was in fact a boy in years, yet so thorough a In{ister of the lever that he had won fo1 himself something more than local fame. On the Deep Pass and Clear Lake Railroad, known as the Shore Line, for the fact that for fifty years it ran along the shores of several large lakes, he was very popular and had gained the sobriquet of "Shore Line Sam." He was perhaps better knewn by this than by his own name. Upon the night in question the express was topping a grade of twenty miles from Clear L ake, the terminus. Bill Clemmens, sitting in the cab-window, had suddenly caught sight of a dark object far ahead between the rails. His declaration brought Shore Line Sam instantly to the throttle. "Do you mean it, Bill?" "I do." In went the throttle, and "down brakes" was pealed forth u pon the night air. The train came to a sudden, jerking stop. The cow-catcher of the locomotive was not ten yards from the would-be victim, who, now it was seen, had been tied to the rails and was helpless. Every car-window went up, and excited passengers piled out, eager learn the meaning of the stop. In the rear car was a guard of Confederate soldiers on their way to camp at Clear Lake. They also came out. The iconductor rushed along to the engine and cried: "What is the matter, Sam?" "Matter enough!" exclaimed the young engineer laconically. "Look ahead between the rails." "Great heavens!" exclaimed the conductor. "A man tied to the rails!" Willing hands cut the unfortunate's bonds and he staggered to his feet. He was revealed in the light of the lanterns as a tall, fine-looking man and dressed in the fuH uniform of a Union officer. His position was now one of scarcely less danger. Every person on board the train was a Southerner, and the guard of Confederate soldiers were hastening up. "Waal!" exclaimed Bill Clemmens, after hav ing cut the bonds of the officer, "I reckon ye had a narrow pull tltat time. Who are ye?" The Union officer drew himself up, saw his position, and that the Confederate soldiers had already surrounded him. "I am an officer in the Union army. I am major by rank, and my name is James Vincent." "A blasted Yankee IV cried one of the crowd. "Better hev let the cars run over him, I reck on!" "Hold yer mouth-traps a while!" cried Bill Clemmens to the excited crowd. "Let the man tell his story. How did ye come in that box, major?" Major Vincent gazed scornfully about him, and replied to Clemmens : "I was crossing the country to rejoin Gen. Sher man's staff at Atlanta. I was set upon by guerrillas, some of Mosby's gang, I believe, beaten into insensibility, robbed and tied to the rails." "That's a condemned shame!" cried the big fire man. "If they war men they wud never hev done thet." But the Confederate soldiers now closed in. The officer in command was a tall, slender, dark-featured young fellow. His manner was savage and imperious as he said: "Major Vincent, United States Army, consider yourself our prisoner." "I yield as a prisoner of war, and demand the courteous treatment by right accorded an officer of my rank." A sneering smile played about the lins of Lieut. Reginald Vane, which the young officer's name. He whipped his sword from his sheath. "We will Jl,'ive you the treatment which evel'J' dog of a Yankee spy deserves!" he cried:


2 SHORE LINE SAM "What is that?" asked the Union officer, calmly. "An ounce of cold lead at fifty paces!" retorted the young Southern lieutenant. "Corporal, do your duty!" Major Vincent took a step fonvard. "What? You do not mean to shoot me!" "What better fate do you deserve?" "But that is not according to the rules of war. An officer of my rank--" "Confound your rank!" retorted the young lieutenant, savagely. "You're a condemned Yankee dog, and all you de1:?erve is death. Corporal, halt your men. About face! Ready arms!" The crowd fell back. Major Vincent stood alone. The muzzles of a dozen rifles covered him. "Lieutenant!" cried Vincent, vigorously, "I protest against this barbarous treatment. My_ rank entitles me to better treatment--" "That is right!" cried a firm, manly voice, "and I for one will not see him shot. Reginald Vane, do not forget principle and honor so far as to commit wilful mu.rder!" Sam Wells, the handsome young engineer, it was who spoke thus, and he stepued boldly in front of Vincent. In an instant Bill Clemmens was bv his side. -"I allus goes with my mate!" he cried, bluffly. "It ain't right to shoot this man!" A cheer of approval went up from the crowd. Badly as the Southerners hated the blue thE:y were too peeply wedded to honor and chivalry to sanction so brutal a deed. "Sam Well s !" hiss ed Vane, "get out of the way or I'll order vou shot. too!" "You mav do that, Reginald Vane!" cried Sam, "but I don't believe there's a man in your squad will dare to put a bullet through Sam Wells' body A wild cheer went up from the crowd. "'Good for you, Sam?" "Hang to it!" "Sam Wells!" gritte d Vane, "you are a confounded Yankee yourself, and in sympathy with the North. Get out of the way or I'll order you shot, too!" "You dare not!" "You are obstructing the Confederacy. That establishes you its enemy, and a traitor. Attention company! Ready! Aim! Fire!" Every musket was aimed at S a m Wells and Major Vincent. The latter tried to pus h Sam away. "Good heavens! do not s acrifice yourself!" cried the brave Union officer. "Let them shoot me. Save yourself!" "Fear not!" cried Sam; "they will not fire upon me!" Again Vane thundered the order. But not one of the muskets spoke. Tke rebe l li eutenant was dum,f ounded. The corporal stepped forward and touched his cap respectfully. "We will obev all reas onable orders sir; but we can't s hoot Sam Wells!" But now a keen-eyed, shrewd-looking man with a cape overcoat over his shoulders forward. His air was that of quiet authority. "What is all this fus s about?" he asked; "why do you shoot this man?" "Because he is an accursed Yankee spy!" cried Vane. "Major Vincent, I believe," said the short man, addressing the prisoner. "Very glad to meet you, major, and rest assured you shall receive all the curtesy due your rank." "Who are you?" roared Vane, turning upon the speaker. "I am Col. Ben Crossley, of the staff of Gen. Hill," he said, quietly. "One more insulting word from you, sir, and I'll have you court-martialed for insubordination." Then turning to the Union officer: "You are our prisoner, major. But come intn the smoking-car with me." Vane slunk away, completely awed by his su perior. The conductor shouted all aboard, and the nassengers clambered into the cars. But Vincent had time to say to Sam Wells in an undertone: "You have saved my life. I will never forget it." CHAPTER IL-Bill Hurd's Warning. There h;id never been good feeling between Reginald Vane and Shore Line Sam for many reasons. The planter's son had looked down with contempt unon the voung engineer as much below him in s ocial standing, simply because he was an engineer. But Sam was such a thorough gentleman and scholar that, with his m any rare accomplishments h e found even an easier entree into s oci etv than did Vane. Eunice North, the fair daughter of the president of the Clear Rail road, deigned to look with much favor ubon the young engineer, despite his occupation. "I am sure he i s no less man for being an engineer," she d eclared, in reply to an aspersion from Vane upon Sam's rank. "He certainly is vastly .superior to a fop." "I don't admire vour taste," Vane sneered. "Indeed. I d o not seek your admiration," she res nond e d, crushingly. Eunice was, a s was natural, wholl" in svmpathy with the S outh. Sam shared the cause of the North. and there were m any friendly passages-ata rms between them on that score. "Indeed!" she s aid, archly, one time, "if you are such a firm Yankee, Sam, why is it that you do not enlist in the Union cause?" "Becaus e I abhor war, and I regard this strife as all a mi stake. It is a wicked fight of brother agams.t b rother." "Yet you are in symathy with them." "Miss Eunice," said Sam, fir mly, "I am an en gineer in the employ of this railroad. There is no man in the world who should be more steadfast to dutv than an engineer, though it be against his inte:re sts, his life, his all. I should carry tbat train through or die." ."Father. there i s n.:> man in the world you may place greater trus t in tha n Sam Wells," Eunice declared to her fathe r that night. "He is a Northerne r by all instincts, and yet he would not betray u s!" "I believe vou, mv daughter,'' declared Mande ville North, the railroad magnate. "Sam Wells is a young" man of rare integrity and great honor." Obstructions were frequently placed upon thetracks, bullets fired through window s of cars, and other lawle s s acts were in hourly perpetration. One day the good citizens of the town awoke to find that a mile of track leading out of the town had been ripped tip, and a placard ppsted up near the depot "th the following notification:.


SHORE LINE SAM 3 "TO THE RAILROAD COM:P ANY." "We don't want any more trains run over this road, carrying Yankee spies into our lines. The first man who tries to drive another engine over the Shore Line will die. "By Order of Bill Hurd, "Mosby's Right-Bower." ,., That day the engineers came in a body to Mr. North's office and tendered their resignations. "It ain't any use tp try to run any more trains, Mr. North, until after the war," they declared. "Well, perhaps not," said the railroad magnate. "But I don't believe a gang of guerrillas will stop me. I shall issue orders for the continuance of trains as soon as the track is relaid, and you must all stand ready to obey." Nothing more was said. It might be said right here that Shore Line Sam was not one of this chicken-hearted crowd of engineers. When they called upon him to join them, he said: "I can't do it." "Why not?" asked the spokesman of the party, in surprise. "Becau' se this is too critical a time to desert Mr. North. If there ever was a time that we as engineers should stand by him it is now." Guerrilla warfare has ever been a disgrace to any nation whtch has lent sup-pott or encouragement to it. Its history is one of the darkest pages in the chronicles of our Civil War. Bill Hurd had shown his hand. He meant to crush Mr. North's railroad by affecting that it was the means of bringing Union spies into the Confederate lines. Mr. North's position now became a most trying and precarious one. Owing to the strike of the engineers, and his avowed opinion of Sam Wells, who was known to be a Yankee, exaggerated reports were spread about the country, many of them to the effect that the magnate was secretly lending aid to the opposite This, if established, would have made him out a traitor., Mr. North, who was a loyal Southerner, indignantly repudiated these charges when brought to his ears. "I am a Southern man," he declared, "and loyal to the cause of Jefferson Davis. I transport our troops over my railroad free of charge. I have contributed money to the Confederacy, and I am entitled to its protection. I demand it now to en able me to operate my railroad against the opposition of a parcel of lawless, irresponsible guer rillas." True to his word, Mr. North went to Col. Cross ley, and presented his grievances. The colonel listened attentively. -"Mr. North," he said, earnestly, "you are right, and Bill Hurd has no right to obstruct you. But I have no more control over the guerrillas than the winds of heaven. At present I am in a very cramped position. General Hill holds me ready for a moment's call. However, I will do this: You shall have a _guard of five hundred men for three days. In that time you can relav your tracks, and after that fight it out with Hurd the best you r t!an." "Very well," said Mr. North, resolutely. "If it takes every cent I have in the world I will run mv railroad in spite of Bill Hurd!" The magnate meant what he said. A few hours later a gang of men were reaqy relaying the rails. A guard of five hundred Confederate soldiers protected.them, and not a guenilla put in an appearance. But at the expiration of three day' Col. Crossley withdrew his man. I Mr. North -postec;j. a notice: "TO THE ENGINEERS OF THE . D. P. & C. L. R. R. "Trains will resume the regular schedule upon the 18th. It is expected that every engrneer will be on hand. Those who fail to report on time will be discharged from my employ. Mandeville North, President." A great crowd collected at the station to see the first train go out. Not a passenger dared to get aboard. It was the morning express but the reg11lar engineer did not appear at round house to assume charge. Indeed, of the whole force only two appeared-Sam Wells and Bill 'Clemmens, his mate. So great was the fear of Hurd's gang, that the engineers really did not dare to risk making the run. Mr. North was pale but resolute. "It don't look as if I was goini:i; to have very much support," he said. "What do you think of it, Sam?" "I think they are all a set of poltroons and cowards!" declared the young engineer, with flashing eyes. Mr. North turned about. "Sam Wells," he said, earnestly, "I don't want to ask you to do this thing if you have the least bit of compunction. wm you take that express down the line?" "Mr. North, I am obedient to your orders. If you say take that train out to-day, I will carry it to the end of the line, or die in the attempt." A few moments later Shore Line Sam, witl'l Bill Clemmens, was aboard Old Ninety, one of the1 best engines on the line, and ready for the ordeal. CHAPTER III.-A Fight with the Guerrillas. But a.s Shore Line Sam, the only loyal engineer on the lme, appeared, the applause was deafening. The express drew up at the depot platform, and Sam stood in the cab entrance awaiting orders. But the cars remained empty."""Not a passenger dared to board the train. In the cab, Sam and Bill had made an effort to provide themselves with. meal!-s of They four good Remmgton rifles with plenty of ammunition, and the tender was so arranged that they could seek shelter in it and make of it a sort of fortress. Mr. North had appealed to the civil authorities and obtained fifty armed officers, who took up their -positions in the forward baggage and mail-car. This was punched with loopholes so that they could fire with securitv upon the foe. Mr. 'North approached Sam in the cab, and said with a voice quivering somewhat with emotion: "Sam Wells, I admire your courage. You are true grit. I pray for your safe return." "I will bring the train.back safely, sir," said Sam, resolutely, "or come back a corpse." The starting-gong rang, and Sam stepped to the throttle. "We're off, Bill!" he said. "Right ye are!" agreed the bluff fireman. Both men drew a deep breath and exchanged glances. Sam extended his hand to Bill and theJ


4 SHORE LINE SAM shook hands warmly. The locomotive struck clear of the switche s now, and Sam opened the throttle wide It n e eded but a glance to determine the fact that the boy engineer was a real connoisseur in his profess ion Out over the long grades the locomotive flew like a thing of life Old Ninety was one of the best engines on the lin e Now, for two miles Sam could s ee a clear stretch. The iron rails stretched away straight a s an arrow. Tho s e two miles were covered in J e s s than two minutes and now a long, h eavy grade was struck. But the locomot i ve had gaine d such mom entum that it easily topped it, and now the mighty walls of Deep Pas s were s een not twenty mil es away. Thus far n o t an obstacle had be e n encountered, or a sign ob serve d of the gueuillas. A thought struck Sam. It was not improbable that the villains had failed to learn of the propos ed run, and that they would not attempt to interfere with it. In that ca s e it might be safely made But almost as the thought struck him, a wild c r y p e aled from Bill Clemmen s lip s : "Look out, Sam! There's a rail up de a d ahead!" Sam saw that his mate had spoken the truth. Just ahead he saw that on e of the rails had be e n displaced. Al s o in the whirl of that moment he ob served a legion of rough-clad guerrillas swarming along a height by the si de of the track. The guerrillas were there in force, and they certainly meant to wreck the train. There was no doubt of this The sensations experienced by Sam W e lls were most intense It was not lack of pluck which caus ed him to close the th1 !ottle at that moment He knew that he was respons ible for the li v e s of the men in the car behind him, and he mus t not needlessly sacrifice them. Down went the loco motive brakes, and the train came to a jarring dead stop. But it was just in time. Not a dozen yards intervened to the gap in the rails. Then the conte s t b egan. The v e lls of the guerrillas were frightful, and they made a das h for the train. It was now the opportunity for the armed men in the car. Bullets flew thick as hail.-The defenders of the mail-car poured a volley into the ranks of the guerrillas. It staggered them. But they came swarming about the engine like bees. They tried to board it, but Sam moved it backward and forward by opening and clo sing the throttle, so that they were in many ca s es thrown under the wheels, and found it not eas y to get a hold. While Bill Clemmen s, with his huge iron-poker, swung over the edge of the t enderand swept them off like so many flie s In doing this the brave fireman receive d three fles h wou.nds, none of them; ho w ever, proving serious Meanwhile, the guards in the car were g etting in noble work. It se e m e d that the guerrillas were not in full force anyway, and the reception they met with proved too hot for the m. They were actually compelled to fall back. Wild che e r s burst from the defenders of the train. A r ally even was made, and the guerrillas w ere drive n ingloriously back into the wood s It was a complete triumph. Shore Line Sam w a s not the least delighted of all. Bill Cl e 1'lmen s was wild. "I reckon we give 'em a right smart whipping that time!" he cried. "We'll run this railroad in spite of em!" Willin)!; hands now set at work to lay the di s placed rail. The train passed safely over, and once more went on its way. "Hurrah for our side!" cried Bill Clemmens, as he caught u p the shovel to replenish the furnace. "We are the victors, you bet!" "Yes, but onlv for a minute, con sarn ye!" gritted a loud voice, and from the shadow back of the water-tank in the tender two men leaped forth. Down over the coal they ca!lle, and a pistol i n the hands of one of them flashed Bill Clemme n s threw up his arms and fell in a heap. Shore Line Sam for one swift instant was thrilled with hor' ror. He had not a weapon in his hand. Like a young tiger; he sprang upon the two guerrillas. The struggle was a swift and tefrible one Twice Sam went down, but e a ch time he was up, and hurled one of his a ssailants literally off the loco motive to go to a terrible d eath by the track. The other, terrified by the young engineer's fury, made an e ffort to retreat into the tender, but changing his mind, sprang through the little door in the cab, along the bridge and down upon the pilot of th engine. One mom ent Sam gazed with awful anguis h and horror at Bill Clemmens' blood-stained form. Then, with a fury he cried: "They killed you, Bill, but I'll avenge you r death or die in the attempt!" Through the cab-window and along the bridge he s prang. Upon the engine's pilot crouched the -guerrilla. His eyes were dilated with terror, and his teeth chattering like castane t s It was an awful moment, but Sam Well s thought only of reve nge, and clinched with the foe right there upon that precarious footing, with the locomotive running wild. An awful struggle over the loco moti ve s cowc atcher followed CHAPTER IV.-How Sam Made Love Terrible was that struggle. Backward and for ward the y swaye d, and it seemed every instant as if one or both would gtJ down beneath the iron wheels But the struggle could not last forever, and a happy incident terminated it in Sam's fa vor. His foe stumbled, failed to r e cover himself and went down. Sam was on top :ind held his man as in a vise "Surrender!" cried the young engineer. "If yo u don't I shall throw you to your death. "All right, captain," replied the terrified guer rilla. "I'm yer prisoner. Sam happened to h a ve s ome cord in his pocket, and with it he bound the fellow's wrists. No soon er had he accomplished this than he looked up with horror and saw that the train was making for a short curve. At the present rate of speed the locomotive could not possibly keep the rail. Shore Line Sam beli e v e d that d eath was upon him. He drew a deep breath, arose to his feet, and clutched at the headlight rail. But at that instant there came a sudde n jerking, jarring mo tion, s p e ed was slackened, and S a m knew that the brakes had be e n applied. At the same moment the l o c o motive' s whistle pealed out. A s toundE!d, the young engineer looked back at the cab-window and to his delight and amazement saw Bill Clemm e n s face there. The brave fireman's wound had not proven mortal, nor ev e n more than a slight one, the bullet st1iking his skull, and, glanc ing off, deprived him of his senses for a short time. In a moment Sam had ieached the his prisoner to precede him.


SHORE LINE SAM 5 "Bill, old pard !" he cried, with great joy, "you are alive, and-thank heaven! you are not badly wounded even!" "No, Sam, I'm as chipper as ever,''; ieplied. the bluff fireman. "Only I'm a bit ashamed of myself for fainting away in sich a foolish manner. But heavens, mate, ye must have had a risky fight out there?" "I did," said Sam, "but I secured my man!" "I see you did, and it was a plucky capture. I congratulate you." Sam now returned to the throttle, and held the train down to ;i. rapid speed of about fifty miles per hour. This was on account of the many curves which the road held. But an hour later they emerged into the open country again, and Sam pulled the whistle for Deep Pass. They had not made a stop at any of the numerous way stations. As the train rolled into the depot at Deep Pass, a great crowd was gathered upon the platform. But as it rolled into the depot, the shotriddled cars and the broken windows showed that the run had not been free from difficulties. The J>arty received a genuine ovation, and were 'heroes in the eyes of all. Of course news of the success of the party had been telegraphed to Mr. North at Clear Lake. A reply came a half-hour later for Sam. Thus it was worded: "Bravo! You have covered yourself with glory. I think you need fear nothing on your return, for I have heard that Hurd has been drawn into an engagement with a detachment of Union cavalry, which will keep him busy for a time. Please post a notice to this effect for the benefit of passen-gers. "Mandeville North, President." Sam followed these directions, and when starting time came, the train was crowded with passengers. The run back to Clear Lake was made without accident, as Mr. North had predicted. Not a guerrilla was seen, and as the train slowed up at the spot where the affray had taken place, men went forward and securely spiked the loose rail. But far off in the distance firing could be heard. No doubt it was the guerrillas in thei r engagement with .the Union cavalry. The rail was more securely spiked, and then the train went on to Clear Lake. The first person to greet Sam as he alighted from his engine was Mr. North. The magnate was in the happiest frame of mind im aginable. '-'Come into my office, Sam," he said, "I want to talk with you." The young engineer followed the magnate into his private office. "Now tell me all about it, Sam," said Mr. North as they were seated. Sam complied, and modestly told the thrilling story of the fight with the guerrillas. Mr. North listened with deep interest. "Well, Sam," he said, when the young engineer had finished; "you have made a hero of yourself. But yet it is a terrible risk to through such a gauntlet. Yet I am determined that at least one train a day must be run over this road if I have to run it myself." "Sir," said Sam, forcibly, "you will not have to do that. I will stick to my post to the end." "You shall be well repaid, Sam," cried the piagnate. Tht:n he ceased speaking. The office door open ed, and a young girl, fair as a dream, entered. She paused at sight of Sam, and her beautiful face flushed a trifle. "Pardon me," she stammered. "I thought you were alone, papa." "That is all 'right, my daughter. Come right in, It is only Sam Wells," cried the magnate. The young girl's face lit up, and she instantly entered. "Oh, why, so it is!" she cried, with an arch glance which made Sam's beat like a trip hammer. "I am glad to see you, Sam. I heard all about your brave work this afternoon." "I merely tried to do my duty, Miss Eunice," said .the young engineer, modestly. "Sam has done me the greatest service pos sible," cried Mr. North. "My daughter, we owe much to our plucky boy engineer. "Indeed we do," said Eunice, sincerely Sam felt giddy with delight. He turned very red in the face, and tried to stammer out some thing, got mixed up, and at that moment fate conspired to relieve his embarrassment, for the officebell rang. "That is for me," exclaimed Mr. North hurried ly. "I will be back soon." And out of the office he went. Sam and Eunice were alone. "Indeed, Sam Wells," said the magnate's daugh ter, frankly, "I am proud of your acquaintance. Your brave deed is the talk of the country." "I am entitled to no more praise than any of the rest," protested Sam. "There is Bill Clemmens--" "Ah, but the others would not have gone but for you." "I am not so sure of that." "You cannot evade it, Sam. But to change the subject, are you going to attend the military ball?" "I-I-that is," stammered Sam, "I would be delighted if I were sure of a partner. I presume at this late day all the young ladies have become engaged." "Iii.deed, I have not." Their eyes met. Sam's heart was ready to leap from his bosom at the merry challenge in Eunice North's eyes. In a moment, wholly unconscious in his ardor of what he was doing, he was by her side, and had taken her hand. "Eunice-Miss North," he said, "pardon my but may I sue for the mighty honor of your hand at the ?" "You may, Sam. There is nobody whom I would rather go with." She spoke honestly, seriously, and Sam became strangely calm and resolute. He seated himself beside her and took her hand in his. "Eunice," he said, boldly, "I have the assurance to hope that you like me?" The roguish twinkle in her eyes was but con tradictory to the happy smile upon her lips. "Like you? Why, of course I do, Sam. What. an absurd question." "Yes-but-but--" Sam was rattled again. "What were you going to say, Sam Wells?" Sam braced up. "You must think I am an idiot. Well. I am ono -that is-Eunice, I like you!" "Oh, indeed. I am glad to know it."


6 SHORE LINE SAM Sam drew a deep breath. "I will-I must say more, even though you hate me for it. Eunice, with all my soul I love you. Listen: I beg you forgive me, but I must speak my heart, and then cast me off with scorn if you will. I am but a poor engineer, I know, but if you will give me one ray of hope--" Eunice North arose and walked deliberately across the room. She turned upon him. The ex pression of her face was such a13 Sam never forgot to his dying day. "Stop! Never draw a line of distinction be tween us again, Sam Wells. I am the produest woman on earth to-day to know that I am enshrined in your heart. Oh, foolish, blind fellow! Can you not see that-that--" "What?" cried Sam, half in a frenzy. "That I love you." The next moment she was clasped in the strong arms of the handsome young engineer. He would have poured out his whole soul to her then and there but for a startling incident. The door opeped, and a man stood upon the threshold. It was Reginald Vane! CHAPTER V.-A Dastardly Game. Vane's entrance had been so sudden and uncere "10nious that he actually saw Eunice in Sam's arms. His face became contorted with evil pas sion, and he took a stride into the room. "Zounds!" he hissed. "What does this mean?" Sam recovered himself quickly. "It means that you are an intruder," he said, coldly. "What is your business?" "An intruder!" gasped the younr>lieutenant. "I should say that I had arrived just in time to protect Miss North from your insults . Why, you scoundrel, I actually saw you have your arm about her waist!" "Well, l have the right," replied Sam. "Miss North, accept my protection," said Vane, pompously. "I will make this low-born cur atone for the insults to you!" But Eunice turned a cold gaze upon the selfappointed champion. "Mr. Wells has not insulted me," she said, keen ly. "It is you who owe an apology for coming in upon us so unceremoniously." "What?" gasped Vane, somewhat staggered. "l;>o you mean to say that you permitted him to take those liberties with you?" ''I have; and for the good reason that we are engaged to be married at some future day." The villain glared at Sam with deadly hatred. He trembled aspen-like with suppressed madness, but Eunice's manner cowed him. e bowed stiffly and said: "Eunice, you will live to regret this step. Sam Wells, the game is not yet won. Look out!" The door closed behind him. Eunice sank into a chair quite overcome. But both suddenly braced up and appeared natural, for Mr. North returned at this moment. Eunice conferred with her father a few moments, and then started to leave. Sam escorated her to her carriage. At the step he whispered: "I will be on hand to-night, and I shall be the happiest man at the ball." All the rest of that day Sam was wholly unfit for duty. He was really like a man in a trance. When night came, however, attired in a rich dress-suit, he presented himself at the North mansion with a carriage and took Miss Eunice to the ball. As they appeared upon the floor at the grand military ball that night, they were the cynosure of all eyes, and a prettier couple had never been seen in Clear Lake as everybody averred. The news of the engagement hau Ot;

SHORE LINE SAM 7 "Where?" "Upon your person." Sam was astounded. Vane turned to the soldiers and said: "Search him!" At once several of them laid hands upon him. Sam made no resistance, and they searched him. But nothing in the shape of evidence was found. Vane, however, said: "Perhaps he has the letters in his overcoat. Go downstairs and get it!" The overcoat was brought up. A 0uick search revealed a packet of letters. The captain of the squad examined them. "The prisoner is convicted!" he said. "Here are letters from General Sherman, by special courier, addressed to Sam Wells, thanking him for plans of our works at Clear Lake and other valuable matters." Sam Wells could hardly believe his senses. "What is that?" he exclaimed hotly; "that is a lie! I never received such letters. They are for geries!" "That won't work, Sam Wells, Yankee spy," hissed Vane. "You are convicted. Captain, he deserves no trial. He is a spy, and must die. Take him out and shoot him at twenty paces!" Two soldiers sprang forward and attempted to seize Sam. But he hurled one aside and wrested the bayoneted musket from the other. Then he cried: "Holdt I warn you not to lay hands on me on peril of your lives. I am innocent, and I will die in defense of my honor. It is a black falsehood which Reginald Vane utters when he says I am a spy. I never saw these letters before in my life. They are forgeries. I don't know how they came in my pocket, but they are forgeries." Once more the guard started forward to lay hands upon Sam, but Eunice North, with the air of a queen, faced them. "Hold!" she cried dramatically. "I say you shall not take an innocent man out and shoot him. Reginald Vane, villain, I will tell you that there are men of chivalry and men of heart in this hall who will lend me their aid to baffle your fiendish plot!" Reginald Vane shrunk back, awed by her forceful words. There was a momentary hush like death. Then once again Eunice North cried: "If there are men of courage and honor in this hall tonight, I call upon them to come to the defense of a Southern woman against a brute and a ruffian!" In an instant a score of the young men sprang forward. The impulsive Southern temperament was aroused, and they faced the soldiers. Vane was dumfounded. He had not anticipated this state of affairs. But his swollen;temper-distorted visage was immovable. "Captain, do your duty!" he said. "I make no war upon a woman. But that spy must be punished!" "Give him a trial," cried a chorus of voices. "That is the least that can be done." "But that is a waste of time,'' cried Vane obdurately. "He stands convicted." "Nol" cried a sharp, stern voice. "That is a lie!" A man of medium height, and with open, honest features, forward. He was known as Robert Haynes, a merchant of the town. "What!" exclaimed Vane. ."What do you mean?" "I mean that Sam Wells is an innocent man." "Have you proof?" "I have. I can give evidence that he is the victim of a villainous plot." Haynes gazed keenly at the villain. "I stood in the coat-room," he said, "and I saw you place that packet of letters in Sam's pocket. I did not understand your purpose, then, but I do now. It was the trick of a sneak and an as sassin!" The tableax was one worthy of an al."tist. Vane stood like a livid statue, without power to speak for some moments. "I have plenty of proof to back up my asser tion," continued Haynes. "Two other well-known gentlemen stood there with me and saw the act. It was a deliberate, murderous scheme upon your part to rid this community of Sam Wells, one of our most valuable citizens. You dare not deny it!" CHAPTER VI.-Thrilling Incidents. It was true that Reginald Vane did not dare to make denial. He was entrapped, and his position in the eyes of everybody present at that moment was not an enviable one. Vane turned without a word and stalked out of the ball-room. He was beaten,crushed, and all the hatred of his soul was intensified a million-fold. Nobody sought to restrain him, and the air seemed purer in the place after he had gone. The soldiers followed. But dancing was thought of no more that night. The affair was excitedly discussed until the party broke up. Sam came in for many congratulations for his narrow escape and complete vindication: The young engineer despite the fact that he was practically an alien in the place, was tenfold more popular than ever. Eunice North was happy indeed at the escape of her young lover, and as they rode home that nghit in the carriage, she mured as she was pressed to Sam's breast: "Oh, I have a dreadful fear, Sam! I am afraid that Reginald Vane still means you great harm." "I shall be upon l)ly guard, darling. I don't be lieve his charges against me would ever be be lieved." Sam went to his lodgings that night a very happy youth. The next morning he went down to .the round-house at an early hour. Bill Clemmens was there, and had Old Ninety wiped and oiled, and a good fire in her furnace. "I reckoned I'd better be all ready, Sam," he de clared. "There's likely to be lively work ahead for us." "You may be right, Bill," said Sam; "the guer rillas won't give up, if Bill Hurd sticks to old traditions." "Oh, the guerrillas ain't all that's goin' to give us trouble, my lad." "Ah!" exclaimed Sam. "What do you mean?" "Haven't ye heerd the news?" "What news?" "Why, about the fight?" "No." "Lord love us, that's queer. But I recollect ye were out to a ball last night. Well, there's the dickens to pay down at Black Gap." "What's the matter?'


8 SHORE LINE SAM "Big fight. Ye see, about six thousand of our men under Col. Ben Crossley run into a big party of Yanks. They've been fighting for twelve hours, an' they do say that it is a toss up which side wins." Sam wa,s astonished. "A battle at Black Gap!" he exclaimed. So near?" "Pooty nigh, f reckon. W aal, I thought meb be they might call on our boys here to come down an' reinforce 'em." "Of course," said Sam; "they will very1likely do that." But before they could make any further talk a messenger entered the round-house. He handed a note to Sam. The young engineer read it as fol lows: "Dear Sam: Come to my office as rmick as you can. Important business. Yours hastily, "MANDEVILLE NORTH." Sam at once started for the office. A few moments later he reached it and at once entered. Mr. North sat at a table writing. He sprang .ip as Sam entered. At the same moment a man in the full uniform of an orderly came in by another door. "Ah, Vandyke!" said Mr. North brusquely, "here is our engineer, and you can give him direc tions. I have no doubt he will take your train through all safely." Sam shook hands with the orderly. "You see, my friend," said Vandyke, "I have been sent here bv Colonel Crossley to fetch reinforcements. But I have no way to get them there save by this railroad. No othet engineer can be found. You must 1!.'0!" "I am under orders," Sam said tersely. "Then you will take the train out oy Orderly Vandyke's direction," said Mr. North. "How many cars?" "At least eight." "Very weU, sir." Sam turned to the orderly. "I be at the platform in six minutes. Will you be ready?" \ "My men are in line on the public square now," was the reply. Sam left the office and started for the roundhouse. Bill Clemmens saw him cominl!,' and began to get up steam. As Sam had promised, in six minutes the train was at the depot platform. The Confederate regiment got aboard in quick time, and Sam opened the throttle and let the engine out to her best. Vandyke was in the cab with Sam and Bill Clemmens. As they neared Black Gap, after an hour's run, the distant sound of firing was heard. At this moment, rounding a curve, a startlinl!.' sight was beheld. Directly upon the track, and between the rails, was a twelve-pounder field-cannon facing the locomotive, and a Union artilleryman was just in the act of pulling the lanyard. Sam saw in a fl.ash of time that it was a planned reception for the relief train, and that it was the intention of the artilleryman to send a solid shot directly through the train. The cannon was not one hundred and fifty yards distant, and there seemed no earthly way to dodge the cannon-ball, nor was there such. Of course Sam Wells closed the throttle, but it was t.oo late. CHAPTER VII.-A Confederate Victory. Even as Sam closed the throttle and applied the air-brakes, the gunner pulled the lanyard. There was a terrible fl.ash, a boom-, and an awful shock. It seemed as if the locomotive was being torn all to pieces. Sam and his companions were hurled to the floor of the cab. The air was of flying debris, and they were cut and gashed, but fortunately not seriously hurt. As quickly as he could recover himself, Sam was upon his feet. The train was coming to a stop, for it yet kept the rails. N othinl!.' could be seen of the gun or the artillerymen. Sam saw how matters were, though very quickly. The cannon-ball had been aimed too high to strike the boiler of the locomotive. It had taken a slice out of the smoke-stack, and reduced the top of the cab to kindling-wood, and plowed its way through the roofs of three cars. On the other hand, the locomotive had struck the guncarriage and the cow-catcher had neatly picked it up and fl.uni!.' it into the ditch. Two of the gunners, who had been unable to get out of the way in time, had been instantly killed. It was a narrow escape for those on board the engine. Had the cannon-ball struck the boiler, the locomotive would have blown up in an instant. This would likely have killed all on board. The train had now come to a stop. Orderly Vandyke had regained his feet, as had Bill Clemmens. "Great ramrods!" cried the fireman, in his bluff "I thought we were going to kingdom come that time, for sure. Where are we, anyway?" "Safe," cried Sam, in reply, "but it was a close call." "Where is the gun we seen in the middle of the track?" "Out in the ditch." Bill scratched his head confusedly. But now that the train had come to a stop the Confederate troops began to pile out of the cars. The cannon, not much injured, was reclaimed from the ditch and brought into service. The Confederate reinforcements marched away to the sc ene of action through a cut near. Sam had orders to go on to Deep Pass, and return later to Clear Lake. making the usual run. He had no desire to visit the battlefield, even had it been feasible for him to do so. Accordingly, as soon as the troops were disembarked, Sam and Bill mended the break in the smokestack the best way they could, and stal't ed on for the rest of the run. The express was thundering on it was to Deep Pass. An Hvtu anJ a half later the battered train rolled into the depot. Quite a large. crowd was collected, eager to hear the news from the battlefield. Sam could give them none save the fact4hiat he had brought down reinforcements. However, telegraphic dispatches were being received every few minutes from the field itself. The damaged loc o mot iv e and cars were sent to the repair shops, and a new engine was placed in commission for Sam to return with. As it would be an hour yet before it would be necessary to return, Sam and Bill repaired to a restaurant and partook of a lunch. When they returned to the depot the dispatches were coming thick and fast, and the crowd was much excij;ed. Sam read the bulletin with interest. Sud denly a fresh one was posted which read as fol lows:


/ SHORE LINE SAM 9 "COL. BEN'S VICTORY. "Hurrah for Southern valor! All hail to Dixie's heroes! The Yankees are running! Col. Ben is in pursuit. The appearance of reinforcements in the shape of brave Lieut. Vane's volunteer company from Clear turns the tide. The Yankees under Major Vincent retire. No more danger that Clear Lake will be occupied by the foe. A damaging blow to the Northern cause. Fully six hundred lost upon the Union side." Sam Wells experienced a sort of pang. He realized that the bringing down of the reinforcements by himself had given defeat to the Union caus e. While he was loyal to his duties as engineer in the employ of Mr. North, he yet felt a powerful sympat for the-Northern cause, which he felt to be right. The locomotive which had been assigned for the return was hardly as good as Old Ninety. But Sam brought the train to the platform and passengers clambered aboard. The chronometer marked just two minutes of starting-time when the telegraph operator came along to the cab. "A message for you, Sam Wells," he said. Sam took the message and read it. His face paled a trifle. ft was from Mr. North at Clear Lake. "To Sam Wells: Be on your guard on the return. I have news that Bill Hurd inti:nds to lay for you in Deep Pas s. I have sent special with armed guard to m ee t you. Side track and wait at Black Gap. MANDEVILLE NORTH." CHAPTER VIIl.-A Treacherous Deed. The bluff stoker read the message and shrugged his shoulders. "Humph!" he muttered. "We don't stop for that, eh, Sam?" "I think not.' ? At that moment the gong rang. Sam opened the throttle arld the tra\n was soon bowling along _.,. out ovethe rails. Mile after sped by at a fifty-mile pace, and suddenly Bill Clemmens turned to Sam and cried: . "We're two miles from Black River Bridge, Sam. Do ye know, that is where I recko n the guerrillas will lay for us.'' It was rapidly nearing the sunset hour. Shi:d ows were alreadv beginning to settle down thick and fast. Bill Clemmens hung far out of the cab-window and kept up a good watch of the track ahead. A high forbidding range of hills now hove into view. The train dashed a cut, and came to a wide chasm, w as. a high trestle bridge. It was at tlns pomt that Clemmen s had fea1ed an attack fr?m the guernllas. The train swept on over the lngh trestle, and emerging into open country, bore for the Black Gap. Sam drew a breath of relief. "We're out of the woods, Bill," he sh outed. "I don't see a guerrilla; do you?" "Nary one.'' "I don't believe they'll tackle us this trip.'' But Bill shook his head. "Don't be too sure," he replied. We am t through the Gap yet." This was true, as Sam knew, but the young en-gineer remembered the promise of Mr. North to send an armed guard down to their assistance. He knew that thev were not ten miles from Black Gap station and the siding. If the guerrillas intended making an attack it was full time. But Sam believed their fl!lhrs groundless. The alarm might have been a false one, or, on the other hand, the guerrillas might have heard cf the armed guard coming and deferred their plans. However this was thev certainly did not put in an appearance. The express was given the right of way and went on to Clear Lake. The express thundered into the depot on time, and Sam, alighting from the cab, met Mr. North, who was delighted to see him. "I am so glad you got through all safe, Sam," he cried. "I am hopeful that Hurd has given up the game for good.'' But Sam shook his head. "I cannot believe that," he said. "\Ve must not relax vigilance.'' He was somewhat fagged out with the thrilling incidents of the day and sought his lodging s with the intention of ietirb;,1.g for necessary sleep. But his landlady met him at the door wtih a note in her hand. "This came for vou to-day, Sam. I don't know who brought it, for it was left under the door." Sam took the epistle. The handwriting was fair and bold, and breaking the seal he read: "Sam Wells: I have just .learned of a ve1. y important sche me against you. I am your friend and would not lik e to see you come to harm. u you w ill meet me to-night at ten, at the corner of Cro ss and Blac k streets. I will tell you all about it. I would come to your house, but I am watched, and if seen talking with you my fate would be sealed. Very cordially, "Matt Jones.'' Sam knew the supposed writer of this epistle well. Matt was a former railrbad man, and as h e declared, one of Sam's warmest friends. The young engineer was interested. He partook of a heartv meal and then went down to the roundhouse. Then he started for Cro ss and Black streets the corner he knew being near the bridge over the Swift River which emptied into Clear Lake near. It was a dark night, and Sam noted with something lik e surprise that the lights on the bridge were out. "That is queer," he mused. " the lamplighter forgot them." He approached'the street corner and saw a dark form standing u po n the cu r b stone Sam halted and said: "Hullo! Who is it?" "Are you Sam Wells?" "Yes.'' "All right. Come ahead. I have be e n waitin g fo r you. I am Matt Jones.' "Well, what is it. Matt? "Come deeper into the s h adows They are watching me all the while, but I believe we are safe here. Now!" The latter word was spoken quick and sharp. In that instant from behind Sam received a dull, crunching blow upon the skull. The trap had worked well.' The young engineer knew no more. His lifeless body lay upon the ground. Two dark-


10 SHORE LINE SAM clad men bent over him and one felt his heart, whispering: "By Jove, Vane, it was cleverly done. He walked right into it." "You're right, Bill Hurd!" "Now for the bridge. Give us a lift. Steady now!" The two assassins bent down and lifted Sam's insensible form. Thev carried it to the bridge parapet. One moment they waited and then with a swing over went the body. There was a dull splash in the water below, what seemed like a sharp cry and all was still. Vane clutched Hurd's arm. "Did ve hear that?" "What?" "The cry!" "Pshaw! It was the wind whistl ing un.:er the bridge." The two villains slunk away into t}\e darkness. Alon g the river-bank' they went fo r some distance until thev came to a shanty which stood in a se cluded soot. There was a lig t in the shanty. At the door two armed guerrillas dood and horses stood nearby. Chairs and a table were in the shantv and upon the table was a lantern. B v its rays, Bill Hurd, the guerrill:oi chief, and R eg'mtld Vane stood face to face. Hurii was a stocky, cruel-visage d ruffian in the half-uniform of a Confederate general. "Well, Reggie Vane," he s aid. sink!ng a chair, "talk right at m e now. I've mighty little your o lans?" "I will give them to vou right now," said Vane. "Part of them have been acc omplishe d to-night." "Ah!" "Tha t young skunk of an engineer is out of my wav forever." "So he is." "Now. I want old North l'ettl d and his railroad broken un. Then. with the fairest girl in the South to-day. Eunice North, in my power, I shall be a winner." "All right," said Hurd, gruffly. "What will it be to me?" "Ten thousand dollars ." "Where will you get the money?" "It is mine. Mv father settled fifty thousand u pon me a year ago." The guerrilla chief arose. "It is settled," he said. "Old "nd his railroad shall be sent to oerdition. Then I'll come for the ten thousand. and if it is not paid, you will follow the Good-night, I'm off." CHAPTER IX.-A B ase Slander. The guerrilla chief unceremoniously left the shanty and vaulted into the saddle He gave sharp and ringing orders to his men, and then the.. clanking of their sabers and the clatter of their horses' hoofs vanished in the distance. Regi nald Vane's face was demoniac in its expresmon of triumph. Vane repaired to a drinking-s l\}oon in the center of the town, and there for some hours drowned all recollection of the dark crime upon his soul in the drinking-cup. The next morning he arose and walked down to depot. All was quiet there, for the regular trams mere not running, owning to the strike of the coward ly engineers. "Ha!" chuckled the villain.' "The railroad is upon its lastlegs. I'll humble you, Mandeville North, proud aristocrat that you are, and your haughty daughter shall sue for my favor yet. My day is at hand." The villain, thus chuckling to himself, walked the platform. Suddenlv a carriage drove up and Mr. North alighted. Vane saw him enter his private office. The arrogance of the villain's nature asserted itself and he decided upon an astounding move. Jie follow e d the magnate boldly into his office. Mr. North turned to see the villain standing b efore him. Vane bowed low. "Well,'' said t)ie railroad president, tersely, "what will yo have, sir?" "I have come to see you upon a very impor said the villain, smoothly. "Be so kind as to state it quickly. My time is valuable this morning." "More so than usual?" asked the villain, with sarcasm. "Not in your case," retorted Mr. North, with asperity. "My father was always your warmest friend." "I respect your father, sir." "But n o t me?" "Judge for yourself." "Really, this is too bad. I fear, then, that I shall not have much chance in the question I have to nut to you." "I can give you no encouragement until I knoW" what it is." "Well. sir, it concerns your daughter," said Vane coolly. Mr. North gazed at the impudent young villain a mom ent. while a desire was uppermost in his breast to kick him out of the office. "Then we will -consider the question settled," he declared. "I cannot discuss her with you, sir." "But listen--" "Enough! Not a word." "But I will speak. You have made a fool of yourself. I will prove to you that I come as a friend to warn you." "Of what?" "Of the viper you have taken to your bosom." "To whom do you refer?" "To SamWells, who I can prove to you has deserted you to fly to the Union army. He has been a traitor and a spy from the first." It was a bold and_ stunning declaration.-Yet Mr. North would as soon have thought of suicide as of placing faith in it. Mr. North gazed steadily and keenlv at the villain. "There i s nothing on earth can shake my con fidence in Sam Wells," he said . "Now listen to reason. You know he is a Yankee dog and thoroughly in sympathy with the Northern cause." "I know Sam is a Northerner, but he is faithful to his duties. I am not as fully in sympathy with this war as many are. I believe it is all wrohg." Vane shrugged his shoulders. "Don't you know, sir, that you are not yourself in a very safe position?" "What do you mean?" "Ah, you are not in a position to hear what is daily whispered round the town about you. There are many who doubt your loyalty to Jefferson Davis and the Confederacy." Mr. North laughed contemptuously.


SHORE LINE SAM 11 "That was disposed of long ago," he declared. "It was the vengeful invention of a number of that cowal'dly gang of engineers." "But those same engineers are loyal Southerners." "If they al'e types of our SQ.uthern grit, then I have no use for it," ieplied Mr. Norton. "But enough. We will not protract this discussion." "Very well, sir," said Vane, with assumed dignity. "You reject my advances of friendship and good faith. When you are, by-and-by, delivered up to your enemies then you will think of it. I can tell you that you and Miss Eunice are being mi.sled. That is all, sir. Take the warning. Good-day." Mr. North looked for Sam's coming that day in vain. The young engineer did not turn up and the express failed to go out. The railway magnate was not only surprised, but alarmed. "It is queer," he reflected, "this is the first time that Sam has failed me. What does it mean?" Then he thought of Vane's words. A chill struck him. Was it true after all that Sam had really enlisted in the Union Army? Mr. North went home with darkened brow and a turbulent state 'Of mind. "Eunice," he said, at the evening meal,. "have you seen Sam 'to-day?" The young girl gave a start. "Why, no," she replied. "Was he not at the depot?" "No." For a moment Eunice North sat white and rigid. Then gradually she arose stiffly from her chair. Mr. North looked up with alarm. "Eunice," she cried, "are you ill?" "N-no!" she said, steadily. "Do you mean to say, father, that Sam cannot be found in this town?" "Nowhere. I sent to his lodgings and everywhere else." A lon g, shuddering cry escaped the young girl's lips. "Oh, heavens!" she cried. "It has come." "Courage, my daughter," said Mr. North. "Do not repine. If his craven heart cannot be true, Tather congratulate yourself--" "Stop!" she cried, in a full, firm voice. "Do you think I doubt Sam Wells? Never! He has not deserted us, but harm has come to him, and we must rouse the town to search for and save him!" CHAPTER X.-The Riot and What Became of It. The declaration of Eunice North was impulsive and forceful, and came from the depths of her soul with the of one gifted with in spiration. "When did you first learn that Sam was missing?" she a sked "This morning." "Who told vou ?" "Reginald Vane." Something like a sobbing cry came from her !White lips. "Then he it was who told you that Sam had de11erted us to enlist in the Union Army." "Yes." "And you believed him?" Mr. North was bitterly stung with remorse by Mlese reflections. "I did not!" he cried "but when Sam failed to acknowledge that I wronged him." "Father, you are blind," she said. "I can see the whole deadlv game. Reginald Vane seeks to put Sam out of the wav because he stands foremost in my favor and b eca u se he hates him. Oh, heaven help me to find Sam alive? If harm has come to him--" She stamped her little foot. "The Southern fire is in my veins," she cried. '.'Woe to you, R eginald Vane, if you have done harm to the man I love!" The railway magnate s .tepped in front,of his daughter. "Where are you going, my dear?" he askek "Do not detain me. I am going to find Sam." "Not alone?" "Yes." "But that is not 01udent There are better ways of procedure. Listen to reason, my daughter." Mr. North forced her gentlv into a chair, and then pulled the bell-cord. A servant appeared. "James," cried the millionaire, "ride at once as fast as you can to the office of the chief of police and tell him to come here at once." The diminutive little Irish servant bowed low. "All roight, sor," he replied. Mr. North then rang up every man servant in his employ. He sent them to different parts of the town, post-haste, to employ searchers. In due time the chief of oolice arrived at the mansion. He held a brief conference with Mr. North. "I want you, first of all, to arrest Reginald Vane on suspicion," said the magnate. "Lock him un and hold him!" "That would be a foolish move, sir," protested the officer. "Why?" "Because if he is the guilty party it would sim Pl put him upon his ,g-uard. To catch him we must not let him think that we suspect him." "But Sam's fate must be learned at once. I fear.. he has been killed." "Every part of the town shall be searched declared the chief. "Most of the murders occiir along the Swift River. I will have the banks patrolled and the river dragged, even into the lake." A few moments later the chief was gone. Be fore morning the whole town knew of Sam's mysterious disappearance, and the search that was being made for him. The better class of the peo ple felt keen regrets, and were wholly in sympathy with the quest. But there was a motley element, friends of the rebellious engineers and a gang brought together by Vane, who made sneer ing remarks upon the subject. Mr. North was sharply criticised for the particular favor shown a Yankee. A knot of excited partisans on a street corner attracted a crowd. The crowd swelled to the proportions of a mob. A hot-headed scion of the Confederacy mounted a stoop and began to harangue the mob. The cry arose: "Down with traitors! Hang the railroad king who is secretly in syll)pathy with the Yankees! Long live slavery!" The shout went up, and men crazed "with the spirit of the hour seized rude weapons and swarmed down the street toward the depot. Mr. North was just going ot to his carriage as the men ap-.:


12 SHORE LINE SAM peared. He faced the angry mob with surprising calmness. "Crush the traitor!" "Hang him up!" Mr. North faced his foes with great coolness. H e raised his hand as if to enjoin silence. As by common impulse the crowd subsi ded and a cry went un: "A sneech Give him a chance to make his speech!" Mr. North flashed a critical and stern glance about him, and raising his voice, crierl: "What doe s all this mean? \Vhy am I set upon in this m:mner?" One of the crowd was pushed forward by the oth.ers to act a s spokesman. He was one of the discharged engineers "It means Mr. North," he said, coolly, "that you are known to have sympathetic feelings for the cause of the Yankees. As you are the richest man in this town. it means great harm to the. town an

SHORE LINE SAM 13 "I am Sam Wells, engineer on the Clear Lake & Deep Pass Railroad!" "Look here! You say you're an engineer on that Clear Lake Railroad?" "Yes." "That don't wash. Do you think the rebels would keep a Union man to run their engines for them? Not much!" "But I am not a soldier. I am a civilian, and Mr. North, the owner of the railroad, is not a strict partisan." Argument was of no avail. Sam saw that his position was a desperate one. Then a sudden thought flashed across him. He knew that Ma.jor Vincent was once more in command of his troops, having escaped from the Confederate lines. "Hold on!" he cried. "I tell you who will vouch for me." "Eh!" exclaimed the sergeant, gruffly. "Who is that..?" "Major Vincent." A growl escaped the old soldier's lips. "Our orders from Major Vincent is to shoot every rebel spy found in our lines." A of horror escaped Sam's lips. He knew that it was useless to plead further, but he hoped wnen camp was reached to be able to prove his claims. Through the scrub growth the march continued. Soon the country became more open, and then, mounting a rise of ground, the Union camp was seen. Fully ten thousand Union troops were here quartered under the command of Major Vincent. They were waiting orders to throw themselves upon Crossley's forces and Clear Lake. The battle was most imminent. Sam was led into the camp and held under guard. For an hour he remained thus, when he saw the sergeant coming with a couple of sol diers. The party came up to Sam, and the sergeant said: "Squint your eye at him, Jake, and tell me if he looks like Jones?" The two soldiers almost instantly replied: "He is the man." "You are mistaken, gentlemen,'' said Sam firmly. "You wrong me much. My name is Sam Wells, and I am not a spy." His likeness must have been that of Jones, the spy for his assertion was not believed. He was ma;ched promptly to the dead line, and stood over a rough wooden box, which was to serve as his coffin. The sergeant's squad then marched back fifty paces and placed cartridges in their guns. It was evident that they meant to exe cute Sam as a rebel spy. CHAPTER XII.-The Birth-Mark. Sam Wells, the young engineer, had faced death' in its most frightful forms, coolly and calmly, upon his engine. Fear was not a component part of his plucky nature. But in all his career he had not felt so averse to meeting death as now The sergeant ;as a man who, in times of peace, could not have done harm to a fellow being. But the strict discipline of army service and the ironclad rules ofwar will make callous even the most charitable of souls. "Ready-men!" he cried. "Aim! One-two-" This was as far as got. A black horse, bearing a tall, distinguished rider, dashed between the muzzles of the guns and the prisoner. A gleaming sword went up in, the air. "Hold!" The sergeant stepped forward and saluted. The squad dropped their afms to parade-rest. Out of the saddle sprung the rider. It needed but a glance for mutual recognition between him and Sam Wells," he cried "what does this mean? How came you here?" "Your men mistook me for Bill Jones, the spy." Major Vincent turned ang-A'ly upon the cower ing sergeant. "You blockhead!" he cried. "You would have shot one of the noblest men on earth. Why did you not come to me, sir?" "Your orders, major, were to shoot every spy found in the lines." "But this man is not a spy." "He is the dead picture of Jones." Major Vincent took a look at Sam. "By Jupiter! that is so," he cried,. "You were not wholly to blame, sergeant. But it was a close call. How lucky I came along. Sam, my young friend, I am delighted to be able to return the service done me." "I had given up hope," replied the young en gineer, "but now that it is all over, let us forget it." "Right you are, Sam; but how came you in the lines? Sam briefly told his story. "That Lieutenant Vane is a scoundrel!" re de clared, forcibly. "He ought to hang. But come to my tent." "I am very anxious to get back home," declared Sam; "the express cannot go out without me--" Then he turned deathly white, staggered and fell into the major's arms. "I see you are sick, my lad," cried the major. "Todd, go for a surgeon. Help me, men, to carry him to my tent." He was carried tenderly to the major's tent ani! a surgeon cared for him. His wound was dressed and he felt better. But it was decided that he could not go home that day. The major was calletl away for a time on fiel\i duty. But he returned later, and entering the tent, sat down by Sam's side His manner was strongly excited. "Sam," he said, calmly, to all outward appearance, "when the surgeon was dressing your wound this morning I noticed, under the loc]:cs upon your temple, a peculiar mark similar to a maltese cross." "Yes," replied Sam, with a smile; mother says that was my birth-mark." The major was strangely excited. He arose and walked twice up and down the tent. Then he paused and lifted the yellow hair from his own temples. .-


14 SHORE LINE SAM "Do you see that?" he said, tensely. Sam was electrified. "Why," he gasped, "you have got just the same kind of a mark." "Is it not queer?" "It is." The major gazed steadily at Sam. "Sam, I want to a s k you a question: "Well?" "Are you an orphan? "Yes.'' "Who was your father?" The young engineer heaved a sigh. "I know not," -he replied "I never saw him. He died when I was a baby." Major Vincent clasped and unclasped hands excitedly He once more strode up and down the tent. "Sam he said, after a time, and there was a peculia1: ring in his voice, "it is very peculiar that vou and I should have the same mark on the temple." Sam looked steadily at the ma:ior. "I agree with you," he said. "I want to tell you my life. Once I was a happy man of family, living in the. North. I hB:d a sweet wife and a baby boy. That boy had this same mark upon him." Sam listened as if fascinated. "That is very queer," he said. "It i s ." "I suppose the baby boy is grown to manhood now." The major's brow knit with an expression of great pain. "Ah, that knowledge has oeen denied me," he said. "Denied you ? "Yes?" asked Sam in surprise. "While yet an infant he was stol. en from me by an enemy whom I have tried in vain J,o track. Stolen from the cradle, and from that day to this I have not learned aught of my darling. The blow killed my wife. I .have since lived only in the hope that l would find my boy." Sam's sympathetic soul was aroused. "Oh, I wish I could aid you!" he said. The major turned. He came to Sam's side and gazed dee.ply into his eyes. "Perhaps you can," he said. "You have her. eyes. It may be. And there is the similarity of birth-mark--" "What do you mean?" "You will understand when I ask you tlus question. Tell me the truth, Sam; was Mrs. Wells your real mother? To the best of your belief, is this true?" Sam was so dumfounded by this question that for a moment he could not recover himself. CHAPTER XIII.-Sam Overhears Important Things It required some little time for Sam to recover his wits after the startling querry of Major Vin cent. Then across his befogged mind there strayed an inkling of the major's meaning. "Ah!" he exclaimed. "I understand you. You think on account of the similarity in the birthmarks that I might be your son?" "That is it," cried Major Vincent, with great excitement. Sam noted the look in his yearning eyes. He held his hand out to him. "Something draws me strangely toward you,'' he said. "I wish you were my father." "And something tells me that you are my baby boy." Sam shook his head. "No," he said. "What? Are you quite sure that your right name is Wells?" "I no reason to doubt it," replied Sam. "My mother has often told me of my father, of the place where I was born and the inCidents of my early life. No, Major Vincent, I cannot be your son. The similarity of birth-marks is only a strange coincidence, is all." "Of course," said the major, with a deep breath. "My lost babr is no doubt safe with his mother in heaven. Bu.t-I shall love you all the. more, Sam, on account of the birth-mark. I should like to be always counted your dearest friend." "And you may be sure," cried Sam, "we will' always be good friends." The interview was over, but Sam did not forget it. The major was called from the tent. He did not return for some hours. Sam was up and dressed and quite himself. "Ah!" exclaimed the major. "You are feelinz better, Sam?" "Very much, sir." "I suppose now you are anxious to return to your duties in town?" "I am, sir." "Very well. I will give you a safe passport through the Jines." Major Vincent did this, and appointed a guard of escort for a safe distance beyond the lines. A short while later Sam was beyond the Unioa picket line on his way to Clear Lake. He was not far from Clear Lake when a start ling incident occurred. Passing through a glade he heard voices, and through a screen of foliage saw two men, whtt had seemingly met by appointment in this secluded spot. What was more, the men were familiar to Sam. One was Reginald Vane, and the other the rene gade and guerrilla, Bill Hurd. They were talking excitedly. Jn an instant Sam was interested. Hurd was speaking, and every word he uf;.. tere

SHORE LINE SAM 15 but for the fact that we both fell in love with the same girl. "Of course we tben became enemies. I was madly in love with the girl. I had never loved before, nor have I ever loved since. I flattered myself that I had May Deane's heart. When Vin cent appeared upon the scene he upset my plans and won her affections away from me. "I could never forgive him. From that hour to this, we have bitterly hated each other. The girl became his wife. I was left to misery and unrequited vows. Ah, but I was determined to have revenge! "The opportunity came. One child blessed their union, a boy. I waited my opportnnity and stole the child away. I put it in a safe place, and Jim Vincent has ali his life searched in vain for his darling. His wife died. I had my revenge!" Sam in his hiding-place had listened with inexpressible horror to this awful narrative. So it was Hurd, the guerrilla chief, who had wronged Major Vincent. Vane laughed in a derisive, chuckling sort o:t way. "Well, you did get hunk with him in fine shape," he cried. "But you will have a chance yet to lay him out altogether." . "I believe so. But now we understand each other thoroughly." "Yes." "You want the girl, and I am to help you get her. You will have ten thousand all ready?" "When you get the girl." They now moved away, and soon were out of sight. Sam heard the hoofbeats of galloping horses a few moments later. The young engineer was completely overcome. "Good heave11s!" he gasped. "It is Eunice that they mean. Reginald Vane, villain, coward and monster, you shall never succeed! If you do harm to one hair of Eunice North's head, I will hunt you to death." The young engineer was feverish in his excitement. He set out with all haste. It was a long. and quite wearisome tramp, but finally the town came Jn sig ht. Soon Sam had struck one of the main streets. He had intended going to his lodgings, but a street corner met a posse of armed men. To his astonishment they surrounded him. "Now we've got the Yankee spy!" they cried. "Give him short shrift. Hang him up to the nearest tree!" In less time that it takes to tell it the. street was filled with a surging mob. Sam's position :was a thrilling one. '.rhe young engineer was dumfounded. He expostulated in vain. "Vl'hat do you mean by pouncing upon me in this manner?" he cried. "Haven't you just come from the Yankee camp?" "Yes." It was the worst answer that Sam Wells could possibly have made. CHAPTER XIV.-The Tables Turned. For a moment Sam's life was not wortha straw. Then he looked up and saw an evil face among his foes. It was that of Reginald Vane. "That's right!"he cried, "he is a spy! String him up!" The threat would certainly have been carried into execution but for an incident. Suddenly there appeared upon the scene more armed men, and at their head was Bill Clemmens. T.he brave stoker had_ organized a partv of searchers for the young engmeer when he was di s covered to be missing, and had been encouraged in his efforts bv Eunice North. And now, when Bill saw his mate in this dangerous position, his joy at seeing him alive was hardly exceeded by his anger at the treatment Sam was receiving. "Get out of the way, ye hounds!" he roared. "Don't one of ye lav a hand upon that boy. Give u.s a lift, boys, and we'll clean the dogs out." A number of the Confederate soldiers in the crowd lowered their bayoneted guns and formed a circle about Sam. Bill Clemmens whirled his rusty. sword aloft and cried: "Ye'll onlv take him away over my dead body!" "Bill, don't be rash. They will never dare shoot me. Keep cool." It was Sam who spoke His words had a irood effect upon the impetuous stoker. Vane's face was the picture of evil triumph and vindictive passion. "I will settle matters right now!" he muttered under his breath. "The case will then be ended." He was about to give the order to the soldiers to march the prisoner away when the tramp of feet and the clank of arms was heard in a side street. The next moment a corporal's guard came up with breathless haste. Quick as a flash they surrounded Vane and the corporal saulted. "Lieutenant Vane, I believe?" "It is, corporal. What now?" ,-"I have here, sir, a warrant for your arrest!" "For me!" cried the villain, furiously. "Who has dared to do this thing-? Who?" "Colonel Cro s sley, your superior officer, sir," replied the corporal. .There was no way out of it. Vane bowed his head, the guard closed about him, and he was marched away. For somemoments the crowd wei-e too dazed to move or speak. Then Bill Clemmens rushed up and embraced Sam. "Hooray!" he cried. "What luck for us. I told 'em ye'd come back, Sam, an' I'm mighty glad to see ye." All now crowded about the young engineer. It was a complete revulsion in feeling, and so excited was everybody that they broke out into wild cheers Sam was escorted down the street like a conquering her:o. But at the first opportunity he escaped from the crowd and went to his lodgings. But he had not been there long when Mr. North's carriage came to the door with a request from the magnate and Eunice to take tea with them. Sam entered the carriage and was driven thither. Mr. North and Eunice met him at the door, and their delight was inexpressible. Eunice rushed into his arms and wept in her joy. "Sam," said Mr. North, fulsomely, "even I thought that you had deserted us. Eunice alone believed in you." Sam's eyes met those of Eunice. More .passed between them in the glance than could have been expressed in many words. It was a happy evening, and Sam remembered it all his life. At an early hour in the evening he went back to his


16 SHORE LINE SAM lodgjng s. But at the door his landlady met him. "A letter for you, Sam," she said. "Someone left it under the door." I CHAPTER XV.-The Fight in the Round-House. Sam was not a little surprised, and who the letter could be from, as he did not recog niz e the chirography. He went to his room and there broke the seal. It was written in a coarse, sprawling fashion, as follows : "Sam Wells: are a marked. man. Don't forget these words I am one who i s on the inside and know. I don't mean you any harm, but others do, and they mean to have your life. B e careful how you make yo:ur next trip on the engine See Bill Clemmens and have the engine-house watched. "From a Would-be Friend." Sam read this astounding epistle several times before he was able to fully grasp its meaning. "Well," he muttered. "this is a very fine state of affairs. So that is the game, eh? We will se about it." He donned his hat and coat once more and started for the round-house. It was quite dark, as he entered the vard, but he saw a light in the round-house and believed that Bill Clemmens was there oiling uy, for the morrow. Sam went unhesitatinglv to the side door to the round-house. He threw it open. All was shadowy as far as he could see, but he stepped boldly in, crying in a cheerv voice: "Hello, Bnl doin' a little oiling?" "Yes, pard: corrie in." The reply did not sound like Bill's voice, but not a shadow of suspicion croised Sam's mind. He started along the gloomy walk toward the en gine, when suddenlv ,two dark forms sprang out of the shadows. Sam saw his foes coming just in time. He dodged a couple of powerful blows, and quick as a fl.ash let out with one of his fists. One of his assailants went down, but the other grappled with Sam. A struggle followed. The young engineer quickly found that he lJad a powerful man to wrestle with. But Sam was quick and nervy, and made a good battle. Sudden ly into the round-house sprang a herculean form, and a stentorian voice roar()d : "What good would that do 'em?" he asked. "Well, I cannot imagine," replied Sam. "How ever, let us Ihok the locomotive over." This they proceeded to do. They made a careful examination of the ioco motive in every part; but :hothihg was discovered out of the way. The idea was then abandoned. Bill waited until the watchman came, and then both he and Sam went home. The next morning Sam went down to the depot and saw Mr. North. The railroad magnate was very glad to see him. "I want to send a special down to Deep Pass," he said. "Will you take it down, Sam?" "Of course I will." "I will send one hundred armed men with you in the express car. I think that will be ample guard." "I shall not anticipate any attack from the guerrillas," said Sam. "I think need have no fears on that score." "I agree with you." Sam went do'Yn to the round-house, and with Bill Clemmens overhauled the engine. The stoker was sober. "I don't know why it is, Sam," he said "but I feel kind of queer. The old machine don't make steam just as she always does We looked her over carefully, did we not?" "Certainly," replied Sam, in 1:!.Urprise. "Look here, Sam," and the brave stoker's hand trembled as he held a gold watch. "If anything ever happens to me see that this watch is sent to my mother. Will you do it?" Sam assured Bill that he would do this. To the stoker up, he cried: "But you are depressed, Bill. Shake it off." "I will, mate," replied Bill, with an effort. Ten minutes later the train was in the depot. Mr. North came out and beckoned Sam, who got out of the cab and joined the magnate some distance away. 'Now, Sam," began the magnate, but he went no further. Something caused him to pause. There was that peculiar hush which always precedes a catastrophe. The same expression of horror was upon Sam's face. Then there was an unearthly, a terrible explosion. The ground shook as with an earthquake and the air was full of flying pieces of iron and debris. A glance told the awful truth. "Hey! what the mischief is going on here? Get out of this, ye skylarkers, or I'll do ye harm." -It was Bill Clemmens. The appearance of the stoker was the .breaking up of the "struggle. With a yell, both contestants broke awav. and before Sam could restrain them had disappeared in the gloom. Bill rushed into Sam's arms and, in astonishment, cried: The locomotive had blown up! "By thunder, if it ain't you, Sam Wells. What the mi s chief is up?"- "Mischief for sure," cried Sam. "Do you know who those chaps were?" "I'm blowed if I do." Both i ushed out. into the yard and tried to get a sight of the rascals, but this was in vain. They had disappeared. "Do you suppose that they really meant to do the engine harm?" asked Sam. Bill shook his head. CHAPTER XVI.-The Bridge Burners. The spot where thev stood was one of thos e spared by the explosion. Both were jarred, but not even scratched. The dull reverberation had not died awav when a horrible thought came to. Shore Line Sam. "Poor Bill!" he gasped. "He has met his fate!" In an instant the vicinity was thronged. The noi s e of the exploi s on had aroused the whole town, and people came rushing to the spot. Many in the excitement, fancied that the Yankees had taken possession of the town, and that their artillery was booming. But the scene at the depot explained itself. As quickly as the smoke and steam clouds cleared away Sam rushed to the


SHORE LINE SAM l'l / spot to look for the mangled remains of faithful Bill Clemmens. And this resulted in a most joyous surprise. Instead of finding the torn and riddled form of his mate, Sam saw him come reel ing through the steam cloud s toward him. There was blood upon his face and person, but by what was a seeming miracle, Bill had escaped death. At the moment that the boiler exploded he had been in the tender shoveling coal. This alone had been the saving of his life. "Hurrah!" cried the young engineer. "You are safe, Bill, but how on earth did you come out of it?" I "I-I don't know," exclaimed the stoker, in a dazed way. "What happened, anyway? I sup pose the old machine went up, didn't she? Or was it a Yankee shell hit her?" "She blew up for certain," replied Sam, "but the mysterv is how you ever got, out of alh:e." "But I did," said the stoker, recovermg hrm self. "For which I have reason to be thankful, I suppos e." "You are right, Bill," cried Mr. North. "There would have bee rl sorrowful hearts around here if you had been kill ed." . A gang of men was set 1at work at once to clear the track. But the express was made up with a new engine upon a s ide track. The express left the depot some thirty minutes late, but Sam had a clear track, and did not fear any bad results. No molestation bv the guerrillas was, anticipated, but Mr. North provided two cars crowded with armed men, just the same. So the \:!Xpress went out. Soon it was speeding over the rails at a good rate ,and the mountains of Deep Pass began to loom up in the distance. Sam kept a good watch of the track ahead, with his hand constantly upon the lever. The express had not been scheduled to stop anywhere except at Deep Pass, so the small stations were passed at a flying gait. Crossings were whistled. and switches traverse d and then there came a lon g stretch of op e n country. Suddenlv Sam exclaimed: "Look ahead over yonder hill, Bill. Is not that smoke?" The stoker did as directed. He did not reply for some moments. Then he put his head in at the cab-window and said: "Just as sure as vou're alive, Sam, it is smoke, and--" "What?" "It don't' look like a forest fire." "No." "It comes from the region just over Pinnacle Hill, and right where the bridge crosses Swift River." The two men looked at each other. Then Sam took down a rifl e from its hooks in the cab and examined the bree ch. Bill did the same. .It was plain that the same thought was in the mind of each, and this was that the guerrillas were on hand and had fired the bridge. In that case there would, no doubt, be hot work. Sam opened the throttle wide and let the locomotive out. H e had no thought of turning back on account of the danger. Rather, he thought of reaching tlie bridge if possible in time to save it. On sped the train with terrific speed. Every moment Pinnacle Hill drew nearer, the column of smoke increased in volume There was a loni;? curve where the railroad wound around Pinnacle Hill,and then the bridge would be in sight. Both Sam and Bill hung far. out of the cab-windows as they approached this curve. Swiftly it was made. Sam partly closed the throttle and applied the air-brakes to steady the engine. Then the startling scene came in view. Their surmises had p1oved correct. One end of the bridge had been fired, and a great gang of the guerrillas were in plain view. "Heigho! We're in for it!" cried Bill Clemmons. Sam opened the whistle-valve and let out a series of unearthlv shrieks. Then he began to hold the train down for a stop. The bridge-burners were evidently astounded at sight of the train. They seemed alarmed, and scattered to the cover of rocks by the track. At the same moment a rat;. tling volley from the guerrillas broke the wia dows in the cab. CHAPTER Vincent Ocupies the Town. But neither Sam nor Bill was hurt. They had sunk down upon the floor of the cab and escaped the bullets. A livelv battle was almost instantly in progress. The armed guard in the cars opened fire. In a few moments they had made matters too hot for the guerrillas upon the hillsides. Then, having driven them back, they piled out of the cars in a body. Half of them pursued the bridge-burners, while the others began to take measures to save the bridge. This, it quicklv became evident, was no easy job. The flames had gained considerable headway on the first span. However, the bridge was .an iron trestle, and there was not much woodwork about it to burn. Men were lined down to the river-bank with buckets. These were passed up rapidly, filled with water, and step by step the flames were fought. Of course, quite a number of the timbers were burned out. Fortunately the trusses were of iron and the bridge held together well. For two hours the fire was fought and finally put out altogether. But some of the timbers were gone, and it did not look possible for the train to cross. Sam's ingenuity, came to the rescue. He caused the rails to be relaid on the -iron beams and clinched them with firm rivets and plates, the train cros sed over the first span carefully and went on over the bridge. Part of the guard were left there with a telegraphic insti-ument to call f<>r assistance in case of n ee d Then the train went on its way to Clear Lake. Sam's spirits were high a s the train rushed on, and quick time was made. The affair served much to restore the confidence of the people of Clear L ake. The guerrilla peril did not seem so menacing and formidable now. Sam's popularity increased tenfold. "That young engineer is a brick!" was the se ntiment expressed. "He has got l ots of p luck and is not easily downed." But thrilling experiences were close at hand for S am Wells and the entire population at Clear Lake. That very night, after the affair at the bridge, when the town was wrapped in slumber most profound, people were arouse d bv loud yells and the crack of fir earms. Sam Wells was one of the first to reach the scene of the excitement. This was about the town jail. A guard Qf Con federate soldiers had there been posted. In the jail were several prisoners awaitin1.!.' court-mal'-


18 SHORE LINE SAM tial, and among them was Reginald Vane. Sudtown to the music of "Hail '! the mob denly up to the yard gate there dashed a masked dispersed like chaff before the wind. Major Vinrider. He made salute to the guard, and cried: cent formally took possession of the town, and "If you value your life, you'll surrender and announced that for a few days at least, as it was open those gates. There's a man in there we want, the eve of a battle, he would declare martial law. and if we can get him we will do no one any It rankled the partisans not a little to know that harm." they were subservient to Yankee rule, but no seri-The guard leveled his musket and cried: ous outbreak was made, and for a few days the "Who are you!" town was as quiet and peaceful under Yankee "That is nothing to you. We want y6ur sur-rule as under the Confederate regime. But thrilrender." ling incidents were close at hand. "Well, you won't get it!" cried the plucky guard. "If you're a condemned Yankee bluec9at, you'll have a good fight getting into the place." "We are loyal members of the Confederacy!" cried the rider. "There is a man in that jail who is innocently convicted. We want him!" "Who is he?" "Reginald. Vane." "Well, you won't .e:et him. It is .Col. Crossley's or

SHORE LINE SAM 19 But I have no one to leave it to. I have thought of leaving it to charity--" "But you are not going to die!" cried Sam, with horror. "I do not know. I have had a strange presentiment. I am going into battle. I shall strive for victory, and if to gain it I lay my life down in my country's cause, then I shall not feel that it has been in vain." The major drew a deep breath, and picking up his s word belt, buckled it on. Then he placed the document in Sam's hand. "Sam," he said, "I want you to keep this." "What is it?" "It is a deed to all my property made out to you." "But," gasped Sam, "you are rash. I cannot take it-" "Nor need you, unless I fall in battle. If I die, then I would rather it would go to you, for I have no heirs. You will not refuse me?" The major made his strange request so earnestly and so firmlv that Sam could not refuse. He placed the document in his bosom. Before he could speak an orderlv entered the tent excitedly. "Major Vincent," he cried, "the battle is on! Colonel Houston holds the right and the enemy have attacked him. Our centre is threatened, and I think that you are wanted to the front." "Bring up mv best horse," cried the major, in clarion tones. "Order out the light battery! Seize a locomotive and twenty cars and put them aboard! Lively!" Away went the orderly. The clash of arms was heard. Major Vincent went flying down through the streets of the town a few minutes later with his staff. Sam Wells waited fo r no more. He was at the depot long before regular troop. He burst in upon Mr. North. "Mr. North," he cried. "Major Vincent wants a locomotiv e and twenty cars! Shall we let him have them?" I The railroad magnate sprang up. "The battle is on?" he asked. "The n we will be compelled to grant his request, for thev would be seized. Yes, Sam, order them out." Away went Sam to the round-hou se. The brave stoker was readv for the occasion, and in a jiffy the train was made up and run down to the d epot just as the batt.erv appeared. The p:uns and cais sons were loaded upon the flat-cars forward, and the troops we1e placed in the rear. The word to start was given, and Sam opened -the throttle. Awav went the train like a thing of life. Never had anv on board ridden so fast b efore. On and on, and now the di stant roar of battle was heard. The ground shook with the boom of artillery. Now a curve was rounded, .and the battlefie ld came in view. It was a scene which baffl ed description. Smoke and flying columns of m e n were seen, the the battle b eing at its height. Shot and shell were :flying, and Sam and Bill partook of the excite ment of the moment. The train was brought.. to a stand right in the midst of the battlefield, and the troops were unloading, when a huge shell fell directly into the tender of the locomotive, and was upon the point of bursting. CHAPTER XIX.-Bad News. The shell dropped not ten feet from Sam-right in the coal of the tender. The fuse was sputter-\ ing, and should it burst, both Sam and Bill would undoubtedly be blown to pieces. <--Then Sam Wells made action He saw that it was not impossible for him to save the day. But to do so required risk _and quick movement. Sam did not lack either quality. Without another sec ond's hesitation he sprang forward, bent down ov:er the shell and with his fingers deliberately pinched out _the spark at the e'nq of the fuse. H.e arose, holding the fuse in his fingers, but his face was white a s chalk. It had been a tremendous strain upon his nervou s system. Bill Clemmens was by his side, and cried excitedly: "Hooray! You saved us that time. Sam Wells By gosh, but I thought our time had surely come!" "It was a close call," admitted Sam. "But the danger is averted, if another don't come in its place." "I'm willing to get out of here." "So am I." ,.. At that moment a cannon-ball took off a corner of the cab-roof. But the artillerists had now got their cannon unloaded, and were begin ningto return the fire. Almost instantly the current of battle was carried to another point and the railroad was deserted. For the time the loco motive was out of rang-e. This was not a matter of regret to either Sam or Bill. "Whew!" exclaimed the stoker, with a shrug of his shoulders. "That's the first time I was ever on a batt lefield, an' I'm about of a mind that I'd never make a sojer-no, sir, never!" "You'd rather fire on a locomotive?" laughed Sain. "You bet." "Well, I don't know as I blame you. But we have faced death rig-ht here in the locomotive cab about as often as those chaps out there in blue uniform." "You're right, mate!" cried Bill. "I can call to mind many a time." "Of course you can." "But I say, how long are we tb stay here?" "Until we get orders," replied Sam. These came quick enough At this moment an orderly came riding up and touched his cap. "Are you Sam Wells?" he asked. "I am," replied Sam, from the window of the cab. "I bring orders from Major Vincent to return at once to Clear Lake, and bring down a platoon of men there. Go as quickly as you can." "Report to Major Vincent that I have gone," replied Sam. The orderly das hed away. Sam reversed the lever and starte d the train on its backward run to Clear Lake. From what could b e seen of the bat tle as thev left, it seemed to Sam as if the Union troops were getting a little the wors t of it. The young Northerner's heart was, of course, with the blue. Therefore, he murmured: "Heaven hel p Major Vincent and his brave men today." Bill Clemmens heard. him. The rough stoker turne d a: ut. "Sam ;/ells," he said, "you are a Yank at heart, aren't you?" "Well, I am in sympathy somewhat with the North," replied Sam. "And still you're loyal to a Southern employer." "So long as mv duty bv him does not assume any political or decisive aspect," replied Sam. "In \


20 SHORE LINE SAM the duties of mv position as engineer, Mr. North, otht:r than Mandeville North. The reflection was although a Southern man, has not a truer ema m 1 .ghty shock as well as surprise to Sam. What ploye." d.1d it mean? What had happened? These quesBig Bill held out his hand. flashed through his mind. Certainly some"Put it thar, Sam!" he cried. "I like yer spirit. thmg was wrong. Then the train came to a stop Ye don't hedge, but ye come out fiat-footed. Of and Mr. North ran along and climbed into the course I'm a Southerner, but I have never been cab. His manner was terribly excited, and for in, sympathy with this fight, anyway." . a moment he could not speak, sinking down upon The train was flying rapidly over the rails m the floor of the cab. the direction of' Clear Lake. Sam held a steady "Mr. North," gasped Sam, "for heaven's sake, hand at the throttle. Suddenly Bill Clemmens, what has happened?" who was in the cab-window, cried:, "Oh, it's awful!" groaned the railroad mag-"Look over yonder, Sam. What d'ye reckon nate .. "9h, that this day should have come. Oh, that means?" the VIllamy of that wretch, Reginald Vane!" Sam gazed in the direction of an open plain not "Reginald Vane!" exclaimed Sam, with pallid far from the railroad track. was a wood set features. "What has he done? Tell me all, and a rail-fence in the background. Over the rail-Mr. North!" fence a great number of Unon soldiers were climb"Oh, my child-mv darling Eunice!" moaned ing. They appeared to be in great disorder, and the stricken man. "The villain has stolen her seemingly in full retreat. Sam was completely at away. It is awful!" a loss to' understand the meaning of it. Certainly A terrible cry broke froni Sam's lips. His feathey were miles from the battlefield. It could not tures became rigid and set, and his eyes burned be that they had come from there. Rather looked with a terrible light. as if they li.aci come from the town of Clear Lake, "Stolen Eunice away!" he repeated harshly. which was but a few miles distant. "Do you mean that?" "What's up?" cried Sam, in surprise. "Do you "I do." understand it, Bill?" "But--how was it done?" "I'll be blowed if I can!" sputtered the excited "By force. You see, Major Vincent had with-. stoker. "Somethin's wrong somewhar. The sojers drawn all but a small squad of his men. This left came from Clear Lake." the town defenseless. Bill Hurd and his guer"Upon my word it looks that way." took advantage of the fact to descend upon "How would it do to stop and ask. them?" it." "No time," replied Sam, as he opened the throt"My soul!" groaned Sam. "Go on!" the wider. The train fairly flew over the rails "They quickly dispersed the Union guard and Every moment now they were nearing Clear looted the town. Many large buildings have been Lake. But suddenly Bill Clemmens cried: burned. Vane and a party of the wretches sur"On my word, Sam, can you see yonder cloud rounded my house and, seizing Eunice, carried of smoke?" her boldly away. Oh, heaven, it is awful! I Sam did see it. From the direction of Clear barely escaped with my life." Lake a mighty volume of smoke was rising The despair and agonv of the father was piti heave{lward. It looked as if the whole town might able to witness. Sam and Bill were prone to ac be in flames at that moment. Bill Clemmens and knowledge this. But the young engineer's whole the young engineer exchanged glances. spirit was aroused. "Upon my word!" gasped Bill. "I fear the "Hear me, heaven!" he cried, raising his right worst has come, Sam!" hand. "Now I will swear to trail Reginald Vane But the young engineer was puzzled. How to the end, and if harm has come to the girl I could it be that the enemy should have attacked love, I will avenge her. This is my oath!" Clear Lake when their entire force was supposed "Heaven bless you, mv boy!" he cried. "And to be concentrated in the battle at the Gap? Sam may heaven help us to succeed." could not understand it. But an explanation "Are the guerrillas vet in posse s sion of the quickly came. The train was nearing a small statown?" asked Sam. tion just the outskirts of Lake. It was "Thev are." a flag station, and now the engmeer saw a man Sam's mind was quickly made up. If was usein the middle of the track less to run down to Clear Lake now. The engine al,ld excitedly wavmg. a flag. Of Shore and its passengers would be seized by the guer Ll;lle Sam could not disregard tht:; signal. Thefe rillas, and this was a contretemps to be avoided. might be The motives of stopSam thought of Major Vincent. per of the might. be or not. This was "I will go to him," he reflected. "He must give not to be eas1lv determined, so there was no other me enough men to hunt down these lawless vilway J:mt to stop. Sam .closed the throttle and set lains, and they shall be exterminated." the au-hr.akes. tram slowed up .and began Mr. North agreed with this plan, and Sam stop. Then a wild crv burst from Bill Clemmens started the train back to the battlefield. On the lips: way he picked up the retreating soldiers driven "Thunder an' guns!" he cned. "I'm a liar, Sam, from Clear Lake bv the guerrillas. Thus in a if it ain't Mr. North himself." measure, he had fulfilled the command give;,_ him CHAPTER XX.-A Villain's Work. There was no mistaking the fact. The bareheaded, disheveled and pallid man who stood in .the centre of the track waving the flag was no .by Major Vincent. The train now went on toward Black Gap The thunder of the artillery could be plainlv heard. But as the battlefield came in sight it could be seen that the position of the two armies had changed. Major Vincent's men now had entire possession of the railroad track.


SHORE LINE SAM 21' The Confederates had been driven from their position on the spur of the mountain, and alto gether it looked like a Union victory. Sam and Mr. North now left the train to go in quest of Major Vincent. "I'll look after the engine,'' Bill Clemmens declared. "It'll be here all safe when ye come back." Thus assured, Sam set out for Major Vincent's headquarters. The battle for the day was practicallv over. Darkness was settlin,go down, and the two armies were content to rest upon their arms until another day. Sam and Mr. North had no trouble in finding their wav toMajor Vincent. That officer was furious when he heard of the depredations of the guerrillas in Clear Lake. "This is terrible!" he cried. "Something surely must be done to wipe out the rascals. But what can we do?" -"If you will give me command of a force large enough," said Sam resolutely, "I will undertake to wipe them out." "I will gladlv do that,'' cried the major eagerly. "But I dare not do it tonight." "May I ask why?" . signed quaPters in a tent to his visitors. But that was a sleepless night for both. It was a welcome sight to see the light of dawn breaking in the east. But with daylight there came a great sur prise. Colonel Crossley's brigade had the night before occupied a position just opposite the Union forces. With daylight, it was seen that he had .gone. Bag and baggage, guns and all, had been transported in the night. The camp-fire had been left burning to deceive the Yankees. It was, how ever, not altogether a surprise to Major Vincent. "I had expected a change of base." he said, "but it seems as if the rascals had decamped altogether."' This was true. A Confederate captured and brought into camp declared that Crossley had been ordered to ioin Hill's forces at Atlanta. "Well," said Major Vincent, "that ends fighting for this section. You mav go ahead with your railroad business again, Mr. North." "But for the guerrillas?" said the magnate. "We will attend to them,'' said Major Vincent determinedly. CHAPTER XXL-Sam Mal>es a Bold Move. "Certainly. There would be too much risk .iust now in sen.ding out a troop, while we hardly know the position of our foes. They might run into the The major meant every word that he uttered. enemy's lines, and be captured before they knew He was now free to deal with the guerrillas, and what thev were about." there was little doubt but that he would do so. Sam was impatient. At this juncture the scouts he had sent out the "You can understand how important it is that night before began to come in. They brought re we go as soon as possible to the rescue of Miss ports that the guerrillas had evacuated Clear North, major,'' he said. Lake. As near as could be learned thev were "I do. but it would be folly to make a false step making their wav over the Swift River due east now. It would be likely to plunge us into de-of Black Gap. It was evidently their intention feat." to break for the Tennessee line and seek refuge "I will admit that vour judgment is better than beyond the reach of the Union forces. Major mine," said Sam, "but when will we be able to Vincent drew a sheet of paper from his portfolio start?" and drew a rough chart. "Early in the morning .. ,, "You will see their course quite plainly by this,'' -"Can nothing be done m the meanwhile? he declared. "Now, there is a way to cut them. "Yes. I will send scouts UP to Clear Lake, and Take one thousand men under Captain Briggs they will report to me tomorrow !he course aboard your train and make a quick run for the bv the guerrillas. We can then m some way m-Swift River Pass. There cut in the mountains tercept them." and ambush them in the Pass." All were bourid to acknowledge the w15dom Sam saw at a glance that the maior had out-this move. It was -in order, therefore, to wait lined a grand plan of action. Properlv carried until dawn. ?" k d out it would be a big success. Captain Briggs "How has the battle gone today, ma.ior as e and his regiment were called out, and Sam went Mr. North. U down to see Bill Clemmens. He found the stoker "Rather against vour people,'' replied the pluckily guarding the train. officer, with a smile "Unless they change "'Osition before another dav I fear we shall wm a "Wa!\l, you kin bet I'm all ready,'' replied Bill, in response to Smn's query. "Hadn't I better run complete victory." ?" "Ah me!" sighed the railroad magnate. "I down to the camp f ,, "Yes," replied Sam. "The men will be there Ion"" for the ending of this cruel stri e. "" f It th t I th" k "t all readv for vou." "If all your people e a wav m i The stoker ran the engine down t he track a would soon be ended." said the major. "My people are battling for what believe ways, and the troops embarked on 'the train. Then to be their rights," replied Mr. North, with some Sam took the throttle and sent the train flying on asperity. itf:: wav to Black Gap. A terrific rate of speed "Undoubtedlv: but theirs is a de.lusion. But we was maintained until Swift River Bridg-e was will not discuss the subiect. While you are not sighted. Arid here the train came to a halt. The a loyal subject of the Union you are a non-com-troops disembarked. The Swift River came down batant, and I will aid vou in the rescue of your through a mightv gorge. Just beyond this and \laughter." over the mountain wall was the Pass. It was ex"You will have the reward due an act of bu-pected that the guerrillas would pass through this manity,'' said Mr. North warmly,., . on their wav out of the country. It was an ad"I do not mean to be inhuman, said the ma.ior, mirable place for ah ambush, and if the guer "alt)1 ough war has a hardening influence upon a rillas should meet the troops here thev could be man." . easilv corralled and forced to surrender. The discussion ended here. MaJor Vmcent as-Accordingly Captain Briggs his men


SHORE LINE SAM -with that purpose in view. But in some manner the wily Hurd had learned of the ambush and had refused to enter the defile. Instead, he made a stand just beyond, and a feint to draw the foe out to the attack. As the guerrillas far outnumbere the Federal troops and would have the advantage of position, Captain Briggs hesitated about doing this. Instead, a daring maneuver was conceived, which it was believed would turn the flank of the guerrillas and force them into the trap prepared for them. Three hundred men scaled the mountain walland came down upon the opposite side with the intention of attacking the guerrillas in the rear; But in the meanwhile darkness came on. Sam all this while had remained practically idle. It was a galling reflection to him that not two miles away, a captive, was his beloved Eunice. It fired him with desperation and a resolve to make a venturesome move. Accordingly, without informiIIJl: anyone of the fact; he conceived a plan f .or her rescue. N ea:r the"' hour of midnight he left the camp, and stealing past the guard, he struck out up the gorge. Creeping along cautiously, in time he came in sight of the lights of the guerrilla camp. His position now was one of peril and of a precarious sort. It was his purpose to enter the guerrilla camp if possible. But guards were posted along at intervals, making a perfect picket line. Sam could not see how he was to dodge them. But he finallv selected a spot near a thick copse. Creeping up quite near the picket he watched for-,. a chance. So skillful was he in the attempt that he actually succeeded in getting within twenty feet of the picket without his presence being dis covered. But the question was now how to get past the sentinel. His beat was possibly forty feet in length. Sam studied the situation quite a 'While and then made a daring plan. Thick woods were beyond. If he could gain them he be lieved that he could elude any quest for him. He waited until the picket's back was turned and he started ,to pace the rest of his beat. Then quick as a fl.ash he glided from his covert. He succeeded even better than he had expected that he would. His footsteps were so noiseless, and his action so quick, that he actually got past the guard and into the woods beyond. It was a rare streak of luck and Sam felt that half the battle was won. With elated feelings he now crept boldly toward the guerrilla camp. It was a spot close against the mountain wall, and severa1 huge fires illuminated the vicinity. Possibly two thousand men of the verv roughest type were here encamped. It was a motley crew, and Sam was deeply impressed as he gazed upon them. All classes and conditions of men had leagued themselves with the 'guerrillas. Truly they were fX lawless crew. The most of them lay around in various attitudes of ease, engaged in gambling, smoking or telling stories. Sam did not see any thinl? of Hurd or Vane. But he saw a white tent pitched up against the mountain wall. His heart thrilled, for he fancied that it contained the girl captive. He now began to study some plan for reaching this tent. This was not easv at present. But an hour later matters quieted down and the guerrillas for the rolled themselves up in their blankets and went to sleep. Now or never, thoul!.'ht the engineer. He be,g:an to make his way in the shadows toward the tent. The guard at the door sat upon a log. To Sam's delight he saw that had overmastered him. This enabled him to actuallv reach the tent. He bent down and lifted the flap gently. There was a little stifled cry and then Sam was in the tent. "Sh! Easy, Eunice! There is great danger. But I have come to save you." CHAPTER XXII.-A Brave Rescue. Sam Wells was the happiest man on earth at that moment as he clasped the form of Eunice in ,his arms. The young girl was quite distraught with the horror of her position. But this sudden appearance of Sam caused her spirits to revive. She clung to him pa_ssionately. "Oh, Sam!" she whispered, "how did you suc ceed in getting here? Only think of the awful dani?er!" "Yes, we must be verv careful," said the young engineer. "Fortunately, I found the guard asleep at the door." "Oh, do you really think you can take me from here?" "I'll do it or die I" She clung close t

SHORE LINE SAM 2S "I can, and will, or death will overtake me." "If death must come, let it come to us both," she said. Her courage was now aroused. The Southern fire of her temperament, which engenders a lion's bravery, was aflame sam crept to the flap of the tent and rafsed it. The fires of the encampment lav but a few vards away. The guard yet slept. A few guerrillas were yet lounging about a camp-fire near. In the rear was the high moun,_ tain wall. There were deep shadows along the mountain wall. and it se emed the bst and safest method of escape. Indeed the path to escape seemed easy. He crept back into the tent and whispered: "Are vou ready?" "Yes," replied Eunice. With her arm in hi s thev glided from the tent. In the shadows thev crept along cautiously toward the defile. One step had been taken toward freedom. But the greatest danger of all was yet before them. There was yet the picket line to pass. In the meantime, should their escape be cover1::.-J, it was likelv that the pickets would 'De notified and the possibility of passing them les s ened. But Sam would not think of defeat. He was determined to win at all hazards Down into the they crept. They soon entered the cop se in which was the picket whom Sam had so cleverlv passed in coming in. The fellow was pacing his beat with regular tread. Sam now withdrew Eunice's arm from his. "I will have to leave vou for a brief moment," -he whispered, "but do not fear. I will hope to return soon.'' The youngenginer then glide d away into the da1knes s. He crept cautiouslv down to the picket line. He could see the sentinel easily in the semi gloom. He waited until the picket faced about to continq e his beat. Then Sam made a spring forward. The picket heard him coming and partlv turned. Had Sam been l ess quick that would have been his las t moment upon earth. A s it was the bullet from the rifle of the guard grazed his head. Sam's hands clutched the bav onet turned it aside, and with a dexterous movement he wrenched the gun from the fellow's hands. "Surrender, or I'll kill vou !" exclaimed the young engineer. "I surrender!" howle d .the fellow, who seemed to think that the Union forces had made a night attack. Sam Wells knew that all depend eil noon the quickest kind of action. He tore the fellow's belt loose and tied hi s hands behind him. Then he se cured his ankles with .the strap from his gun. All this had taken time. The shot he knew would be sure to bring a relief guard. Sam called Eunice. In a moment the young girl was by his side. Sam drew her arm in his. and cried: "Now for liberty!" Down the gorge they ran as fast as Eunice's strength would allow. Thev heard the guard behind them. There were a large number of the foe cutting him off. The onlv move was, therefore, to skirt the opposite side of the mountain wall. CHAPTER XXIII.-The Villains Fall Out. rThe foe came on behind in hot pursuit. Had be been alone Sam could easilv have outfooted them. The whole region seemed alive with them. But he fairly carried Eunice along, the while inuttering between his teeth: "We will give them a good race. If only I could reach camp." He hea;rd the sounds 'bf firing behind far down the opposite gulch, and concluded that the guerrillas had run across Mr. North and his party. That was fullv two miles below. Eunice's strength held out amazingly. Sam was astonished at her endurance. The long, weary run around the wall bf the mountain was made, however, and in the gloom Sam saw the railroad track below. There was also a section-hand's cabin and tool-hous-e there. Sam rushed down to it, and thrcwing his weight against the door burst it in. There was the hand-car all readv to be run out upon the rails. Sam quicklv put his shoulder to j He was strong and supple and soon had run the car out. By dint of heavy lifting he got it upon the rails. "Now or never!" he cried, lifting Eunice into the box. Then he sprang to the crank. Just at that moment a number of mounted guerrillas dashed out upon the level land on the other side of the track. They raised a loud vell and started for the fugi tives. Sam started the car upon the steep downgrade. The guerrillas did not dare to fire on account of the danger of hitting Eunice, whom, of course, they knew they were to capture alive. It was a mad, wild race. Pen cannot adequately describe it. Down the mighty grade fled the handcar with terrific speed. B ehind came the guer rillas, spurring their horses to the utmost. Once they were so near that they could nearly touch the car. At their head Sam saw that Bill Hurd rode. The young engineer knew what the track was ahead. He knew that half a mile beyond was a narrow cut. Halfway through this the track was laid over a waterway. He did not believe the guerrillas could pass this without mishap.. A few moments later the hand-car entered t!ie cut. The guerrillas followed, not seeing the waterway and the treacherous s pace b etween the They were obliged to to the railroad track here, but when thev struck the waterway the horses in advance went down, throwing their riders, and those in the rear piled on top of them. The entire cavalcade were piled up in a heap in the cut. It was a terrible experience for the guer rillas. Piled up in that inextricable hean nursuit was ended. Hurd had been in advance of hi s men, and had been thrown into the 0 f the cut, escaping unhurt. Sam and the hand-car went on d ow n the track and the escape was made perfeet. All that the surviving could do was to pull themselves together and wholly aban-don the ch ase. "Well, it's a prettv state of affairs," snapped Vane. "When one of the (!nemy can creep into your camp, find all voin men asleep and carry off a prisotte1 bodily." "P'r'haps you could have done better than I have!" snapped Hurd. "Yes I think I could!" "Then, bv thunder, you lie!" Vane's face was swolle n with rage. The two erstwhile partners in crime faced each other. "If you're a coward vou'll retract whi,.t you said;'' gritted Vane. "If not, you'll stand your ground!" "I never retract!" retorted the guerrilla chief,


SHORE LINE SAM l\rawing his sword: "there is no time better than the present. No man can insult me and live!" The blades of their swords crossed. Hurd was a des.perate and reckless fighter. A number of his men stood by, and he could have called them to his assistance. But his honor forbade this. Nor did they dare to interfere. Vane was a cunning villain. He had no courage, but he was an ex pert swordsman. Bv a side stroke he gashed his adversary's wrist. This weakened Hurd's arm, and before he had recovered Vane made a desperate rush and thrust his sword into his side. The guerrilla chief, with a terrible groan, fell to the ground, the blood pouring from his wound. A :pumber of his followers sprang to his side. The Jf-Ounded guerrilla chief had just stremrth enough Wt to shake his sword at Vane and cry: "This is not the end. My time will come. I laate you, Reginald Vane!" Vane laughed with scornful triumph. He saw threatening glances upon him by the :i'ollowers of Hurd. :Qiscretion cause d him to mount his horse and aash. away. The guerrilla was desperately wounded. The sounds of down the gorge drew nearer. It began look as if the Union troops were .getting the hand. CH-APTER XXIV.-Which Is the End. It was true that the guerrillas were getting the worst 9f the conflict in the gorge ... Captain men had the advantage of lJOSltlon now, and pressed with a good show of victory. The star of Hurd, l}he guerrilla., was no more in ascendant. and fr}efeat hung over him. With wild chee:rS.. cm the victors. The guerrillas now began as QXderly a retreat as possible. But a new fiiisaster was upon them. Suddenlv a terrifying report came from the A_ d'etachmen t of the Uni'On forces v..nder Major Vincent bad been sent to cut off the enemy in t,he rear, as the reader wm remember. These had now crone up. The guerri:Has were practicallv in a neat trap. -Their leader Lay mortally wounded. i;rI his. tent. That day. was to see Bill Hurd and his gang wiped from exiEtence forever. The Union troops from both sitles mov ing in surrounded the guerrillas, and thev were compehed to throw down theiT .arms.. The v:_i'c torious Union troops marched mto camp. with Major Vincent at their head. Sam, Mr: Nurth and Eunice were with them, and met Ma.10r Vin cent as he came in. It was a pleasant meeting, and Mr. North said. : "Major Vincent, though your c:aU;Se is against ours, I am happy to give yourr:edit for. plishing what our troops could not:. that 1s, the wiping 0ut of this curse of Clear Lake, the g uerrillas under Bill Hurd." "Thank you,'' re'Plieil the major gallantly. "We mean the 'People of this region no harm-whatever. we are fighting the confederate army and not the Southern people. Some day you will see that Uncle Sam's cause is a righteous one." "If the peoP.le of the South have made a mistake,'; Said Mr. North. "I will be the foremost to make an the reparation within my power." This was very graceful and created P-ood feel igs. But at thiS moment a private touched the major's-arm. ,;If vrm nlease. mafor ." he said. "the guerrilla, Bill Hurd, is dying, and wants to speak with you." Then the maior turned to Sam and beckoned him to follow him. Together thev entered the tent. Hurd lav upon a cot. His face was ghastly white and his eyes glazed. He held out his hand to the major. "Vincent, you know me?" "Yes, Bill Hurd,'' said the Union officer; "I have reas.on to know you." The guerrilla chief smiled bitterly. "Vincent,'' he said, "I don't ask you to forgive me, for that I know to be too much to ask: but I give you back the treasure I stole from you." "What! Do vou .inean to say that Sam is really my lost baby boy?" "Yes," replied the guerrilla chief feebly, "that is the ruth. Sam Wells is your boy. I placed him with a young widow in New Haven by the name of Wells, who raised him from an infant. Sam has always believed her his real mother. Now, Major Vincent, prav for my soul!" Vincent and Sam turned to each other. "Father I" boy!" And now draws our story to its end. We have seen our herC> restored to his rights, and villainy punished. It was ioyful news to all to learn that Sam had found his father, and that his past was cleared up. Clear Lake once more was occupied by Union soldiers. But only for a time. The tide of war was turning toward Savannah. Colonel Crossley's regiment had gone in the van of Sher man's triumphant march to the sea, and Major Vincent was recalled to the main branch of the army. The war was over, so far as Clear Lake was concerned. Soon -the railroad was once more in profitable operation. Its enemies were gone forever. New;; came of the fate of P.aginald Vane.' The villain had been arrested by Crosslev and shot as a traitor. Sam continued as engineer until the clo se of the war. Then he went North to ioiri. his father. But before two years had passed he returned to claim Eunice North as a bride. Today he is a prosperous man of business. Next week's issue will contain "THE GOLD QUEEN; OR. TWO YANKEE BOYS IN NEVER NEVER LAND." Be A Dctcctivt; Make Secret Investigations Earn Big Money, Work home or travel, :lrascinating work, Excellent opportQ nity. Experience unnecessary. Partfc free. Write: GEORGE R. WAGNER Training 2190 Broadway, New York


PLUCK AND LUCK 25 A LUCKY LAD -or-THE FORTUNE OF TOM WESLE \ By R. T.' BENNETT (A Serial Story) CHAPTER XX.-(Continued) "Found by Jack Jones on his birthday and turn-ed loose." That evening he took the terrapin to Jack Jones' home. Jack was now a carpenter, had married and had three children. "Jack," said Tom, "I don't know but that I have a lucky coin for you." Jack picked it up, and after examining it, recog nized the inscription on the shell. "Great Scott, Tom, I don't see any luck in this. I remember when I cut those letters on his back, but that was fifteen years ago, and it was not larger than a silver dollar; but how old it was then I have no idea. You can find them almost all over this county." "Well, I didn't know, Jack, but that its coming back to you with your name on it might mean good luck; anyway, if I were you, I would keep it. They will stay in certain places for years, so 1 have been told." "All right," said Jack, "I'll keep him and see if he carries any luck with him," and taking out his pocket-knife, he cut on the shell: "Found again," with date of the day on which Tom had brought it to him, and taking him out into his back yard, he dug a little hole in the ground and buried him in it. "Tom," said Jack one day, when he met Tom, "I guess I am doomed to bad luck. My little boy found that lucky terrapin which you brought to me and cut him up with the axe." "Well, I guess there was nothing in the way of luck in it, anyway, Jack for he was probably ten y<.>ars older than you when you found him." "Yes, that's so," assented Jack. "Bt\t see here, Jack," said Tom, "what did you do when you found him cracked by your little boy's axe?" "Oh, I threw him over the fence, for my little boy was disposed to carry it around and exhibit it as a curiosity, and it was one to him." "Well, if you can find it, Jack, I would advise you to

26 PLUCK AND LUCK ing, they said that they were doing very well, not ihaving any lucky coins with them. A little later two strangers came down to the pond, armed with fishing tackle, and one of them caught several very fine fish. "Oh," said one of the boys, "if you had a lucky coin in your pocket, as Tom Wesley, the boy sitting over on that rock there has you could catch more fish every time you came out than you could carry home with you." Then the men began talking with the boys and soon found out the whole story of Tom's lucky dime, and though they sat there quietly fishing and occasionally landing a fine bass, they kept an eye on "Tom over on the shelving rock -By and by, as the sun began to sink down pretty low in the west, the boys all went home, but the strangers sat there frshing some time longer, and then they began to talk about the young man with the luck y dime, and how he always caught big strings of fish, and how he had good luck eve r since" he found the coin. His companion suggested to him that, being down there alone, they make an attack on him and take possession of the coin, so they went over to where Tom was still :fishing and got into conversation with him. By and by one of them said something about his lucky dime, and Tom admitted that he was the owner of it, whereupon one of the men wanted to borrow it to try his luck for a half hour; but Tom said that he didn't have the dime with him, and one of them made a sudden attack on him by pushing him back on the rock, and kneeling on chest, choked him while his comrade searched his clothe s for the coin. Tom was choked until he ceased to make any resistance. "By GeorgE>," said the other, "I guess he told the truth, for I can't find the coin in his clothes.'' "Well, he has got some other monev. hasn't he? If so, take it, and we'll start back to town.'' "Look here," said companion, "hanged if I don't believe he is dead. You have choked him too hard," and they began to examine him, finding that he was unconscious, and that thev couldn't di scover any heart beat. "Look here," said one, "we'd better get away from here,'' and the two villains became so badly frightened that they hurried away, going through the woods rather than by the road. That evening Tom didn't appear at the supper table, w.11.ich was something quite unusual with him, and his two horses were standing in the stable still unfed. Then Evelyn became alarmed and began making inquiries around as to when he was last seen She met one of the little boys who had seen him down at the pond fishing1 and learned from him that there were two strangers down there also fishing, and again that nervaus attack came upon her so she asked a couple of young men boarders and several of her girl friends to go down to the old mill-pond with her. The girls thought that it was too far for them to walk, so Evelyn asked one of the young men to go out to the stable and hitch up Tom's rig for her. He did so, and she was s o pale and nervous that Mrs. Wesley herself became alarmed. By anrl by they started off, the stars were pretty well out, and Evelyn whipped up the bays, soon reaching the old mill-pond; but not a soul was in sight. She leaped out of the rig and ran around to several places which she knew were Tom's fishing spots, and soon found him lying half lifeless and pale on that shelving rock. When she saw him she uttered a scream that brought the others to her side, and the young men took Tom's body up in their arms and conveyed him to the rig. Evelyn ordered them to first carry him to the spring and lay him down on the grass, while she dashed the cold water over his face. until he began to show signs of returning consciousness. It was a wonder that she didn t faint, but her nerve stood her in good stead. Finally Tom breathed a long, lingering breath, and they knew then he was yet alive. "Pleas e take him up and carry him to the rig now," she pleaded, and the two young men prom:i;>tly proceeded to do so. She told one of them to drive, while she held Tom up and let him lean against her shoulder, where, by the time he reached the house, he was quite conscious. Others of the men boarders came out and assisted in taking Tom to his room, and the family physician was summoned. The doctor soon told them that he had been attacked and choked to unconsciousness. He applied all the necessary restoratives, and by and by Tom began to talk, and he told his story of the attack that was made on him by the two strangers demanding his lucky dime. He said that they took him unawares, and that he was unable to ma;ke an effectual resistance; so the town marshal was sent for, and when he came Tom described his two assailants. As the marshal listened, he said he remembered s eeing those two fellows himself several times during the day. "Tom," the marshall asked, "was it true that you didn't have the lucky dime with you?" "Yes," put in Evelyn, "for I had it in my pocket all day." "Now Mr. Marshal," she continued, "I will pay one hundred dollars for the arrest of those vil lains, so go ahead and catch them if you can." The marshall hurried out of the house and Evelyn him out on the piazza and told him to employ help if he needed it, and that she would pay for their services. First the marshal hurried down to the railroad depot and asked the ticket agent if the men had bought tickets for New York or any other place from him. The agent couldn't remember, so the marshal now had hopes that they were still in town. He hunted up s ome half dozen of his personal friends, told his story and offered them ten dollars each to help him catch them. His friends started the inquiry at once. It was about midnight when they met an old Irishman, who lived down by the railroad track, and he told them that those two-strangers had climbed aboard a freight train that was going down toward the city. The marshal went to the freight agent and learned from him that that particular freight train would stop at a station ten miles outside of the city. (To be continued)


PLUCK ANP LUCK 27 PLUCK AND LUCK NEW YORK, MARCH16, 1927. TERMS TO SUBSCRIBERS Single Copie s ......... ......... Postage .l!'ree 8 cents One Copy l 'hrne Months . . . . " $1.00 One Copy l:lix Months........... 2.00 One Copy One Year.... ......... 4.00 Canada, $4.50; lJ'oreign, $5.00 HOW 'l'O SEND l\IONEY-At our ris k send P. 0. Jdoney Orcparate piece or p aper to avoid ctttting the envelope Write your name and address plainly. .A.udrcss lHtcrs to WESTBURY PUBLISHING CO., Inc. 140 Cedar Street, New York City. 1''RED liNlGllT, Pres. ancl .rreas :K. W. M.\Ult, Vice-Pres. and Sec. lNTKESTING AKTlCLES THE NEW FASHION "Sky scraper" hats and gowns may be the next fashion fad. .tligh school students have designed them to '"express the spirit" of New York' s lofty towers. MILLIONS FLOCK TO AUTOMOBILE INDUSTRY Mo1e than 3,445,000 persons are reported as being employed in the automobile industry directly anct indirectly in the lJnited States. \ ages paid employees in motor car and truck fac:tories in 1925 totaled over $649,668,000. SIXTY-TWO FOOT JUMP FOR MOTOR CYCLE 'During an exhibition at the Aukland Park Motordrome, in Johannesburg, South Africa, Piet Lievaart made a jump pf sixty-two feet on a motorcycle. This is claimed to be a world record. THE COST OF CRIME Commercial crime costs the United States four billions annuall: and unltss curled by Federal action, law enforcement and "high moral endeavor on the part of every citizen" will in the end destroy our civiliation. HERMIT FOUND ILL FROM STARVATION A half-starved old man, a gardener and a vegetarian, lies seriously ill in the State Hospital on Danvers, Mass, :while neighbo1s recalled the gossip which named him model for the tribute to boyhood by John Green1eaf Whittier that ran: "Blessings on thee, little ma;1, Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan, With thy turned up pantaloons, And thy merry whistled tun"s, With they red lip, redder still, Kissed by strawberries on the hill; With the sunshine-on thy f:::.ce, Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace, From my heart I give thee joy; I was once a barefoot boy!" Frankie Marston is the name of the graywhiskered man whom neighbors assisted from his lonely cottage after he had been found weak from lack of food. These neighbors recalled the room, that it was attributed to his inspiration, and that he had worked here on an estate where Whittier had lived. They recalled also that the gardener shunned meats and subsisted largely on fruits, nuts and berries. Marston was unconscious when he ieached the hospital and docto r s attributed his condition to lack of food and exposure to cold. No one just old he but neighbors say he is well past sixty. He still carries the "cheek of tan," and, like most hermits, is reported to be comparatively well off. He had worked on what is known as "the old Whittier estate" here until a few weeks ago as caretaker. He has been a fixture around the estate for the last half-century and in the summer he augments his gardening income with beny picking. LAUGHS AN EXPERIENCED SCRIBBLER Mr. Longhair: Is the editor in? Office Boy: Yes, sir. Longhair: Well-er-I'll call again whell he is out. I have a poem to submit t? him. KEEPING HER AT HOME Wife: Don't you think you might manage to keep house alon < for a week, while I go off 011 a visit? Husband: I guess so; yes, of course. "But won't you be lonely and miserable?" "Not a bit." "Hugh! Then I won't go." TOO MUCH FOR HIM Publisher: What's the matter? You look ill. Book Agent: I've come to resign. Can' t stand this job any longer. I don't want to be talked to death. Eh? What happened? "Ever;Y customer I struck today had just returne. d Europe, and, was slopping over witn of what they had seen on ine otner side." NEEDED HER DAD'S HELP Summer Girl: Papa, I wish you'd l ock up your money and pretend to fail, there's a very good reason. It needn't last more than a week or tv:o, and there are so many failures now no one will find fault. Father: Of all things! What--" Summer Girl: Oh, it's all 'right.. You see, I m e!1gaged to nme young men, and I've got to g e t nd of at least eight of them somehow. DAYS OF CHIVALRY GONE Wife (drearily): Ah, me! The days of chiv-alry are past. . Husband: What's the matter now? "Sir \V.alter laid his cloak on the ground for Queen Elizabeth to walk over, but you get ma.d simply because poor, dear mother sat down on your hat"


PLUCK AND LU.CK The Man With Horns Charley Thurber is an artist friend 'of mine, and he has a passion for curiosities. Om,. night we paid a visit to a museum on the ea::it side of New York City, and after staring at all the rnonstroisities in the place, we strolled homewards, along the Bowery, arm-in-arm. My name is Richard Folger, and I am a rnatterof-fact sort of fellow, being brought up in the hardware business. "What is the greatest curiosity you ever saw, Charley?" I remarked. "We:l, I've seen the strangest specimens of humanity that ever lived, but my man with horns beats them all." "Your man with horns. Surely, you're trying to humbug me, Charley." "On my oath I'm not. Come home with me, and I vriil show you the man-at least his head and "I'll go with" you. You arouse my curiosity. Who and what is the man?" "I will tell you a11 I know about him-in con fidence, of course. I first met the man at the Turrl:i:;h bathrooms." "What was he doing there'!" "He was an attendant there. He served me very kindly indeed . I noticed that in the he.ated l"Oom he wore his high felt hat on all occasions. "To hide his horns; of course," I said. "Yes it was to hide his horns. I discovered that had horns by the merest accident-his hat sli!Jped off." "If you are telling the truth, Charley, you've found a treasure indeed." "He is a treasure in every way. The man is now my servant, or a_ssistant-that ,!s, he waits on me in the most faithful manner. "Has he told you the history of his life? Was he. bom with the horns?--1' "No-confound you! No animals ever are born with horns. They grow, like Topsy. Tom Webb will never speak of his past life to me. As to the horns, I never allude to ,, "He's sensitive on these pomts, then? "Extremelv so. I fancy that the horns are connected with some tragic of life." "Hang me, if I wouldn't like to mterVIew your horned friend." "You can c 1 o so, Dick. He is not at all un sociable. Corne along with me, and I will intro duce you." Charley Thurber occupied a suite of rooms in a flat on Fourth avenue. He was a bachelor, made considerable money, and he lived well. He was a rare good fellow, with an open, honest face, a free heart and a lavish hand. When we entered his apartments, he touched a handbell on the table, and a small, good-na tured-looking man entered the sitting-room from an inner apartment. The wore a high felt hat; he appeared to be abcut forty years of age, and, he was most respectful in his demeanor, he did not offer to raise his hat when he entered the room. "Some wine and cigars, please, Tom," said my lJiost. "All right, sir," V\.-as the response, as the man witl.:ircw in an easy manner. "Did you notice him, Dick?" my friend asked me. "Is that your man with horns?" I asked. "That is the man." "I would like to see them." "Yon will see them." The man returned in a very short time bearing a tray w.ith wine-glasses and cigars: As he was opening the wine my friend remarked: "Tom, this is a particular friend of mine-an experience

PLUCK AND LUCK 29 As the man turned away I noticed that his throat was muffled in a scarf. The di s covery of this fact t ended to increase my desire to know more of the fellow. When the man left the room I a sked: "Why does the man wish to exhibit behind .a screen? Why does he keep his neck muffled this warm night?" "That is 2.nother peculiarity of his. I fancy y that his IE-ck i s also deformed h1 some way. I have never seen it." Charley led me into an inner room, which he u sed as a s tudio. There was a dark curtain hanging across a kind of an alcove, wherein Charley kept his unfini s hed pictures. The horned man stood behind the curtain, with his nead uncovered, displaying no other portion of the body. Sure enough, there were the horns, about three inches in length, jutting out above the "Take a close look," said Charley, handmg me a magnifying glass. I did as requested, drawing near to the head as I peered through the glass. I was about to declare that my artist fried was playing a trick on me, with the aid of his servant, when the strong glare from the magnifying glass cause d the man to wink his eyes and exclaim: "The light is too strong for my eyes, sir." "Then close your eyes," I retorted. "I only wish to examine the horns." "You'll observe," said Charley, with the air of a man who was delivering a lecture, "that the horns are perrectly natural. Even the tufts of hair on the man's forehead are--" "Hold! hold!" I cried excitedly, as I opserved a peculiar mark on the man's forehead. "How came that mark?" "You've seen enough," grumbled the man, as I heard his footsteps receding from the alcove. Tearinf!; the curtain down, I dashe d after the man, and grabbed him by the collar, just as he was in the act of d1awing .the felt hat over his horned forehead. The man wheeled suddenly around and struck me a fierce blow in the fa_ ce. The blow staggered me, while it sen t stars shooting before my-eyes. away from my grasp, the fellow dart-_ ed out into the other room, and he was down the stairs ere I could recover from the effects of the blow, orCharlev from his astonishment at what he had witnes sed. "What in thunder does all this mean?" demanded my friend in absolute amazement. "It' seems that that scoundrel is my father's murderer Follow me." Seizing my hat, I rushed out of the apartments and down the stairs. The lights had b een extinguished and the hall ways were quite dark. in mv haste I stumbled over an object lying in the dark hallway, and fell forward, striking my head against the hard balustrade. when r opened my eyes again I was lying in Charley's front room, my friend was standing over me, and two policemen were bending over an object lying prostrate on the floor. The prostrate object was the man with horns. "He's a goner," remarked the policemen. "Serves him right," I cried. The man with horns had a deep gash on his forehead, from which the blood was flowing freely. The policemen had removed the scarf from his neck, in order to let him breathe more freely, and several small blue marks of a triangular shape could be perceived on the side of his throat. These marks were identical with the one I had seen on his forehe'ad with the aid of the magnifying-glass As I was staring at the man, he opened his eyes, and a shudder passed over his frame, while he groaned forth: 'Tis all. up with me. You're the dead image of your father. "Confess how it happened," I demanded. "I will, seeing that the game is up with me now. The man drew a long sigh before he commenced in a faint voice: -"You know that I worked for your father up in the northern part of the State, when you were but a little boy. "I remember your face well now," I interrupted. "That's all right,'' continued the man. "You want to know about the fight. One day in winter we were out hunting in the woods. I fired at some squirrels, and s ome of the shot happened to strike your father. "Then he became so mad that he rushed close up to me and di scharged the contents of his gun right into my face. I turned my head at the moment and caught all the charge in my neck, except one shot that struck me on the forehead. "I must have fired the other .barrel into your father's breast at the same moment, as he reeled and fell. I fell at the same time, and I didn't know any more until I woke up with a stinging pain on the top of my head. "Your father was lying near me, and he was stone dead. "I dragged myself to a hunter'.s hut in the wood, and the man dressed my wound by patch ing it with the top of a kid's head, which he had iust killed. "The wound got well, but the horns as you see, grew in time. "Here i s the surgeon," cried my artist friend. "Let the poor fellow have a chance. I believe h e has told the truth." When the surgeon examined the man's wound, he declared that his skull was fractured and that he would not survive Jong. The-unfortunate man breathed. his last that night in my friend's room. Some years after, m y artist friend informed me that he had seen in one of our museums a human sku ll with horns resembling those of his old servant. Charlev Thurber was fully convinc e d that the skull belonged to his man with horns TELLING THE GOOD NEWS ..,. Mrs. Youngma: And so my baby got the prize at the baby show? I knew he would. It couldn't have been otherwise. Old Bachelor (one of the judges ) : Yes, madam, we all agreed that your baby was the least objectionable of the lot


so PLUCK AND LUCK CURRENT NEWS ( . MODE;,RN WOMEN TOO MUCH ALIKE Women of today lack individuality and ality, says .IJthel Strudwick, newly appoi n t ed high mi&'tress of St. Paul's Girls' School. "They dress alike, wear the same hats and do their hair in the same way." MOVING A RIVEF The Conemaugh River will be moved to make room for extension of the P ennsylvania Railroad yards at Conemaugh. Mountains behind made extension in that direction impos s ible, so the present river bed is being filled up and a new channel will be cut for the stream further south. LIFE PROLONGED After studying 2;50(} ancient skulls de ciding their ages at time .of death, T. Wmgate Todd of W estern Reserve University decided that man lives thirty years longer today than in an tiquity. In ancient and primitive populations the "peak of death" occurred at fort; -two years old. Today the peak of death occurs at seventy-two. PRESENT EDUCATIONAL METHOD People know many more facts today, but they seem no wi se for it, said Prof. A. J. Carson. "The present educational method is one of memory cramming," he observed. "The aim seems to be to cram the most facts into the student's head in the least time. Really, we only learn ef fectively by doing, and our youn?, generation is seldom allowed to learn by doing.' MENTAL DISORDER CAUSES BOY TO WRI':'E BACKWARD A six-year-old boy, who is otherwis e normal, but can write only backward, is a patient in the Children's Ho spita l in Lonfon. He wz:ites with his left hand and has no other abnormality except a tendency to stammer. The boy is b e lieve d to be the victim of a rare and obscure di sorder in which there is a trans ference of c ertain motor centers from the left to the i:ight portion of the brain. GERMS DO NOT SPARE STRONG "It i s the c o mmon b elief," said F. D. Fromme, "that parasites are more apt to prey on weak individu a ls than on strong, vigorous ones, and although this i s the g ereral rule as applied to man and the d o m estic animals it is by no means true of pl a nts. "Suc h d isease s of man as smallpox, whooping cough, t yp ho i d f ever and tatonus may attack the 'strong and vi g orous as r e adily as .the weak, and the bl ackleg d isease of cattle is known to occur more c o mmonl y in robust cattle than in the weak ones." SABOTS FOR CONDUCTORS Sabots, the big French wooden shoes, have been adopted by many of the autobus conductors of Paris during the cold weather. When the ther Jnometer hit /freeing recently the bus men reverted to the methods of their youth. They knew that the thick w o olen socks and the unrestrained movement of their feet mould allow the blood to circulate while the tight of civiliation limited the thickness of socks and imneded the fl.ow of blo od. The sabots, carved of wood, are also cheap and durable. PAVING THE WAY FOR TELEPATHY After trans-Atlantic telephone service and tel evision will come telepathy, which will do away with "lip-wagging, breath-puft'ing antics" now essential to trans mission of our thoughts, is the prediction of Prof. A M. Low, British scientist. "'Vireless is developing human senses at such a rate that it is preparing the way for Llepathy," Pro'fessor Low contends. "As it is, we are not content to receive an impression by man's senses alone We don't judge our friends by what they say but by their their touch, their smell and other senses of which we have no more knowl edge than had ancient Egyptians of the X-ray or of milk bact.eria." MILLIONS SPENT FOR DEAD CHINESE Coining money for ghosts is an industry which is giving employment to several thousand Chinese women in Chekiang and Kiangan, according to information gathered by the Chinese Economic Bulletin. The "money" is a special form of offering which is burnt at Chinese funerals by devout relatives in order that the deceased may enjoy all the comforts and luxuries of the world of the dead. It is made from a special tinfoil-coated paper, folded and pasted into the form of a silver syce s "shoe"-a convenient piece of silver used as currency in..many parts of China and valued according to weight. The funeral "money" is hollow inside so that it will burn rapidly. Only through burning of this money are the ghosts of the departed sup posed to be able to receive the affectionate con tributions of their loving relatives. The shoes are from an inch and a half to three or four inches long, and hundreds or thousands are burnt at a single off ering. Sometimes they are strung through the center with a cord, each string con taining ten or twenty shoes, and sometimes they are packed into paper trunks and packages for burning. In Shaohing some 700 shops are engaged in the manufacture of this funeral money, tin being supplied by more than thirty firms, and the large shops doing n business of about '$400,000 each year. According to estimates of the manufac turers' guild, the total production of tin-coated 'paper in Shaohing in 1925 amounted to $7,000,-000. "The industry is one of the most important in the city," says the Bulletin, "and affords an in teresting illustration of the effect o! custom and religious belief on the economic life of the people


AND LUCK St T IMELY T OPICS RUSSIA RANKS THIRD IN POPULATION The census returns in Moscow to date show that Russia is the third most populous nation in the world, being led only by India and China. The population in 1927, it is announced, will approx, "imate 145,000,000, an increa!:'e of 30 per cent. since the last census, taken in 1897. BIBLE MARVELS SUPPORTED BY SCIENCE Bible marvels are receiving growing support from science, says Sir Oliver Lod'."'e, the noted physicist, and the progress of science is tending to strengthen theology in all its vital aspects. "Certain Bible occurrences," he says, "have been doubted, such as the direct voice of the Baptism, the Prenence of the Saul's vision on the road to Damascus. All these things science is beginning to show were true hap penings. I look forward to the time when incarnation will be rationally recognized as both a Di vine and human fact." $20,000,0QO OF LIQUOR SENT TO U. S. Twenty million dollars worth of alcoholic liquor was exported from Canada to the United States during 1926. The shipments of whisky month by month, as shown in official reports of the Canadian Department of Trade and Com merce, are: January, $1,402,000; February, $1,056,000; March, $1,616,000; April, $790,QOO; May, '$749,000; June, $1,382,000; July, $1,216,000; August, $1,119,205; September, $1,490,000; Oc tober, $1,459,000; November, $1,774,000; December, $1,400 000. To the foregoing mu s t be added shipments of ale, beer and gin. More than $5,000,000 worth of beer was sent to the United States. SMALL HOMES BEING BUILT OF ADOBE "Adobe,'' humble, sun-dried brick, was used Franciscan Fathers in the building of their missions, and later many h o mes and commercial structures were erected with these rudely made bricks. As the years wore on, ho wever, adobe became primarily the stuff of which ruins were likely to be made. The sight-seeing tourist learned to look for the adobe mission and the adobe house as relics of a romantic past. He scarcely expected to see modern homes built of that material. "Mission style" homes, churches and business blocks l ong have been popular, but ordinarily these have been built of brick or frame with a coating of stucco. Lately, however, the old custom of using one's cellar exc!tvation as a source of sun-dri ed bricks for walls has be e n revived and modern small homes and ranch houses are being built of adobe. EASTHAMPTON'S OLD HCUSES The wave of old house restoration has reached Easthampton, L. I., which was settled in 1649. Houses of its early inhabitants may have thought their day was done when wealth and fashion moved into their neighborhood and built summer palaces overlooking the sea. Prosperity they had had, and a society of their own, but they were a modest company of farmhouses and cot tages. As the town grew and developed its busines;S section, was inevitable for many of its old dwellmgs Those that other times did not scrap are retired nowaways to honor, instead of to obscurity and decay. A humble dwelling, once in the J,eart of the town, has been transplanted to the outskirts of the village and looks as if it had stood there al ways. There is another that was moved more than a mile in order to preserve it, when its original site was claimed by a moving-picture theatre. Easthampton people have been drawn as if to a museulll by the recent changes wr :ught in old Rowdy Hall. Rowdy Hall is called one of the five oldest houses in the village It is thought to have been built about 1740, though its name is much newer than that. In the '80's of the last century, when it stood down on Main street, it was tenanted by a group of young artists just returned from their studies abroad. Many of them are. famo1:1s. today, but they were boys then, full of high spirits and fun, and they christened it Rowdy _fall -When, lately, its fate hung in the balance, one of Easthampton's wealthy matrons came to the rescue and moved it from the bustle of down town to slumbering Egypt Green, on the lane to the sea. She protected it with a 150-year-old paling fence and laid an aged millstone at its door; then proceeded to transform its interior to accord with tuentieth-century ideas. Like many old Easthampton hoases, it had a tiny box of a hall, with a steep stairway just inside the door, a fairsized room on either side and a kitchen and pantry beyond, and two rooms and a half-attic upstairs. The facade was not altered, but at the rear. a sun pc_ch was added and servants' rooms. Upstairs the roof was dormered, in accordance with a precedent found in another old Long Island dwelling, to make space for bedroom and b a ths. From the old fire bucket placed at the door to receive um brellas, to the witch's balls on the di'!ling-room tabel, the place was then furni shed with early American relics and r e opened as a dwelling. Thus Rowdy Hall has come back-presenting, however, but one of the many m anifestations of East harnptcn's f ervor for restoration.Some of Easthampton's quaint old houses still hold to Main street, where they peep through leafy elm s as they have don e for several genera tions. Firs t i n the center of the village is Home, Sweet Hom,e, a of Rowdy Hall s type, with an ancient wmdmill and wellswe e p in its yard. Thi s humble little home acco rding to tradition, was in John Howard Payne's mind when h e wrote his immortal song. Long neglected and left to decay, the place in rec ent years has fallen into appreciative hands and has underg one thorough overhauling. Its present owners have filled it with the pewter, lustre ware and fine o:d furniture of other days, and have hung the walls of its paneled parlor with me mentoes of Payne.-New York Times.


OUR TEN-CENT HAND BOOKS Useful, Instructive, and Amusing. They contain Valuable Information on Almost Every Subject. No 1. NAPOLEON'S ORACULUl\I AND DREAM 800K.-Containing the great oracle of human d estiny, also the true meaning of almost any kind of dreams together with charms. ceremonies and curious games of cards. No. 2. HOW TO DO TRTCKS.-The t?reat book of nrne;ir. and carll tricks. containing full intructlons on ell lParlint? cRrd tricks of the day, also the mos t popular n1a!!iC&I illusions ns nerformed by our lPRdinir magi cian: every hoy shoulfl ohtAln a copy of this hook. No. 3. HO\V TO FLTRT.-The nrts and wiles Of HirAtinn are fully explnined by this little book. ReBikinJ? meats. fish. game. nnd o:vsters: also pies. pucliliPf!B. cakes anil all kinds of pastry, and a grand collPrtiil by the most famous end men. amateur lninstrels is complete without this wonderful httle book. For sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any address on receipt of price, toe. per copy, in money or stamps, by HARRY E. WOLFF, Publisher, Inc. l66 West 23d Street New York Ci.tY. PLUCK AND LUCK LATEST ISSUES 1454 Around the World In a Yacht; or, The Long CrulM of Two Yankxford. 1473 Dick. the Half-Breed; or, The Trail of the Indian Chief 1474 The NihiliRt's Son: or, The Spy of the Third Sec tion. 1475 The Star Athletic Club: or, The Champions of th Rival Schools. 1476 The Aberileen Atbletirs: or, The Boy Champions of the Century Club. 1477 Left On Treasure Island: or. The Boy Who Wu Forgotten. 1497 The Black Mai;ician and His Invisible Pupil. l47S Toney. the Boy Clown: or, Across the Continent With a Circus. 1479 '!.'he White Nine; or, Tbe Race For the Oakville Pt'nnant 1480 The Discarded Son; or, The Curse of Drink. l481 Molly, the Moonlighter: or, Out on the HUis ot Ireland. 1482 A Young Monte Cristo: or. Back to the World For Vengeance. 1483 Wreckeil ln An Unknown Sea: or, Cast On a Mysterious Island. l484 Hal Hnrt of Harvard: or, College Li.fe at Cam bridge. 1485 Dauntless Young Douglas: or, The Prisoner of the .. Isle. 1486 His Own Master: or. In Business tor Himself. 1487 The I,ost Expedition : or, The City of Skulls. 1488 Holdinl" His Own: or, The Brave Fight of Bolt Carter. 1489 The Young Mounted Policeman. (A Story of New York City.) 1490 Captain Thunder; or, The Boy Treasure Huntel'l!I of Robber's Reef 1491 Across the Continent in a Wagon. (A Tale of venture) 1492 Six Years In ::lioeria; or, 2000 Mlles ln :Search or a Name. 1493 The Slave King; or, Fighting the Despoiler of the Oc ean. 1494 A Man in the Iron Cage; or, "Which Was the Boy?" 1495 With Stanle y On l:lis Last 'l'rip; or, Emin Pasha' Rescue. 1496 Appoint e d to West Point: or, Fighting His OwJl Wav. 1408 In the :Phantom City; or, 'l'he Adventures of Diet; Daunt. 1499 The Mad Maroon; or, The Boy Castaways of tu Malay Islands. 1500 Little Red Cloud, the Boy Indian Chief. 1501 Nobody's Son; or, The Strange Fortunes of a BQy. For sale by all newsdealer, or wlll be sent to address on receipt of price, 8o. per copy, in monq postag-e stamps. WESTBURY PUBLISHING CO., Inc. 140 Cedar Street New York Gits


Download Options [CUSTOM IMAGE]

Choose Size
Choose file type

Cite this item close


Cras ut cursus ante, a fringilla nunc. Mauris lorem nunc, cursus sit amet enim ac, vehicula vestibulum mi. Mauris viverra nisl vel enim faucibus porta. Praesent sit amet ornare diam, non finibus nulla.


Cras efficitur magna et sapien varius, luctus ullamcorper dolor convallis. Orci varius natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Fusce sit amet justo ut erat laoreet congue sed a ante.


Phasellus ornare in augue eu imperdiet. Donec malesuada sapien ante, at vehicula orci tempor molestie. Proin vitae urna elit. Pellentesque vitae nisi et diam euismod malesuada aliquet non erat.


Nunc fringilla dolor ut dictum placerat. Proin ac neque rutrum, consectetur ligula id, laoreet ligula. Nulla lorem massa, consectetur vitae consequat in, lobortis at dolor. Nunc sed leo odio.