Confident of his own strength and agility, Dick left Miss Nesbitt's side, and started for the struggling group. He felled the foremost assailant with a stunning blow under the ear; and the boy could hit out mighty hard.
or STORIES OF BOYS -WHO MAKE MONEY Iuued Weekl11-B11 S ubscription $2.50 per year. Ente1ed according to Act of Congre, in the year 1905, in the OJ/IU of the Librarian of Congress, D. C., b11 Frank Touse11, Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York. No. 2 NEW YORK, OCTOBER 13, 1905. Price 5 Cents BORN TO fiOOD LUCK; OB The Boy Who Sueeeeded. By A SELFMADE MAN. CHAPTER I. THE SOR.AP AT OOBHAM'S OORNER. "See here, Dick Armstrong; when you've taken that water into the house, I want you to clean these. Do you understand?" The speaker, a sallow-complexioned, overgrown boy of seventeen, threw a pair of mud-bespattered boots at the feet of a sun-burned, healthy-looking lad about a year his junior, while a grin of satisfied malice wrinkled his not over-pleasant features as he thrust his hands into his pockets and started to walk away. "Who are you talking to, Luke Maslin?" answered Dick, hotly, not relishing the contemptuous manner in which he had been addressed. "Why, you, of course," r eplied Luke, with a sneer, paus ing about a yard away. "You're dad' s boy-of-all-work, aren't you?" Unfortunately for Dick this remark expressed the exact trnth. He was Silas Maslin's boy-of-all work, and his lot was not an enviable one. His clothes were bad, his food scarce, his education neglected, and having arrived at the age of sixteen years he eagerly longed to cut loose from hi s uncongenial sur roundings and make his own way in the world. If Dick felt obliged to submit to Mr. Maslin's tyrannical treatment, that was no reason, he contended, who h e should allow his son Luke to bully him also. Although he had never done anything to deserve Luke Maslin's ill will and often went out of his way to do him a good turn, Luke never l ost a chance to make life miser able for Dick. In fact, all friendly advances on Armstrong's part, in stead of winning his favor, seemed rather to impress him with the idea that Dick was afraid of him, which was far from the truth. On this particular occasion Dick was not in the best of humor, for Mr. Maslin had just been savagely abusing him because he had taken a longer time than the old man had considered necessary to fetch certain supplies for the store from Slocum, a large town about ten miles distant. So when Luke flung the last remark at him he angrily retorted: "Well, I'm not yours, at any rate." "What do you mean by that?" demanded Luke, m a disagreeable tone. "Just what I said!" answered Dick, defiantly. "Do you mean to say that you don't intend to do any thing I ask you to do?" "That depends."
''Depends on what ? L uke advanc e d a step n eare r the othe r lo oking decidedly u g ly. "How _you rue," i:eplie d Dic k setting d own the pail to relieve his am1. "I s 'pose :you' d like me to take m y hat off t o y ou Dick \.rm strong, and s a y pl e a se, and a ll th a t," Luke r eturne d, s 1:owling darkly "It strikes m e y ou 're putting on too many frills for a charity boy." Charity boy! 'l1his slur, whi c h Di c k f e l t t o b o utterl y undeserved, stung him more than anything Luke could h ave s aid He turne d pale with s udd e n rage, and hi H t empe r burs t forth with a violen c e all the m o r e t errible held so Jong in c heck. Snatching up the pai l of wate r a s thou g h it w e r e a feath er, h e da s hed its contents orer hici t o rm e nto1-, dre nch-ing him from h ead to foot If the h e a v en s had fall e n Luhe couldn' t have been more a s t oniohed. That Dic k Armstrong the factotum o f the e s tabli shment, would dare to resent any agg res:;ion on hi s part was something Luke had not dreamed of. Heretofore when he c ho se to bull y hi::; father\ drudg e the boy had submilte d with the b es t grace h e could. Dic k actuall y had the tem erity n o t onl y t o resi s t but to ass um e the offe n s ive. Ai e1 the fir:;t sputtering gm;p of surprise, Luke recov e red him:;cl and ,;prang at Dic k with a howl of the fury that fairl y Llazed from hi s eye.s. R e ali z ing that he "Tas in for lrou ble, Arm& t ro n g pre p a r e d to d efend himself t o the best of his abili ty. Althoug h hi s oppon ent had the advantage o f h im in height and wa s furious e nou g h to be dangerous, Di ck was not troubl e d with any misgivings a s to the result of a clas h between them. He ha no t on e o f th e m could b e s een from the store; but b y standing on the centre of the bridge lhe short, stumpy steep l e of the small woo d e n churc h c ould jus t be made out looming up through tl1e topmo s t branc h es in the near dis tance. The po s t-offi c e wa s lo cated at the s tor e and the farmen for miles around came here for their mail and to r e plenitih their supplies from Mr. Ma slin's :;tock of good s whi c h c onsisted of about everything needed by the little com munity, from a n e edl e to a cultiv a tor. Mr. Maslin's hous e hold consi sted of his wife, a sour-fac e d woman on the s hady side of forty; his son Luke; John Hus kin s a hired man, who attended to the main part of the work in the field s-for Silas Maslin had some forty acres under cultivation-and Dick Armstrong, who helped in the s tore when nece s sary, did the chore s and assi s t ed Hus kins. B e tw e en the two boys, Luke had all the advantag es of the situation. He went to s chool a s long as school kept, took par t in all the village sports, vi sited his s choolmates attended all the s ocial gatherings he felt di s po sed to join, and c arried his head pretty high gen erally. \Yhate ver satis faction hi s opponent f elt' at s uch a d eci-1 B u t for all that he at all popular.
Dick, on the other hah came in for the short end of way he treated his hired help, particularly if that help hapeverything. nened to be a boy. He attended school when Sil a s Maslin chose to let him Boggs' method was to hire a stout boy or an 11ble-bodie For the largC'r part of his timo from daylight to dark ep.d of the stipulated term of service he waR to forfeit all he was kept on the hu stlt>, a s Mr .l\faRlin wa s never at a his pay. loss to find somt>thing for him to do. The fnrm<'r then managed to make things so h!lrd for Everybody knew Dick Armstrong, of course. hiR help aR the weckR went by that they found the place He was a good-looking boy, natmally bright, was obligsimply unendurable and were glad to disappear of a sudden ing and polite to cycrybomper flnrl much patience, and Nathan, fearing A s Luke wns ambitiou s to shinr with tht> fair se:x himself, the boy would la s t the limit nncl that he wollld be obliged he their partiality for Dick, and a s he couldn't to pay him the s um of $60 for which he hac1 contraeted, very w e ll get square with thr young lad ic)<, he vented hi s t1c1opted a spt'cially rigorous line of conduct toward him, ill humor and spite o n the object of their attention. which culminated that morning with a mos t inhuman beating, dter which Joe gave up the f!truggle. CHAP'l'ER Tr. ""'here are you going?" a sked Dick, at length. "I haven't decided yet but the canal-boat Minnehaha is ACCU SED OF 'l'JIEF'l'. As the cus tomer departed with the jug of molasses, a lad named Joe Fletcher entered the start>. "Hello, Dick," said the newcom e r walking toward the rear of the place. Hello, Joe," replied Di k, in a pleased voice, for h e and Joe were chums. I didn't know whether I s hould find yon in h e re or not," sai d .Toe. "Want to see me about anything parti cular?" asked Di ck, in some smprise "Yes. I've come to say goodbye." "What!" exclaimed Dick, hi s fare clouding. "You don't mean to say you're goi?g away?" "Yes. I left Boggs for good a couple of hours ago. Ht''s a hard, cruel, grasping tyrant-that's what he i s Y Oll know I thrt'atened to cut loo se from him weeks ago, but s omehow I didn't seem to be able to mu ster up the backbone to do it. But 1111 over now. He beat me black 1md blue with R whip this morni11g becanse one of 1 hP cows broke down the cornrr of th fl p11stme fence and got into the trurk pntch. I think hC''cl have killecl me only I hit him over the hC'acl with the handle of a rakr. 'T'lwn I got my clothes and rnn away." F or a moment Dick was silent. He felt sad at the thought of losing the best friend he hnd in the neighborhood. It is he had only known Joe Fletcher five months, which was 11bout the length of time Joe had been working for FarmC'r Bogg:<, but a natural sympathy had drawn the two boys together Both early in life had been thrown upon their own resourceR, nnd both were subservient to hard taskmasters, though if there was any choice in the matter, Silas Maslin was perhaJ1R a shade better than Nathan Boggs. The latter was notorious throughout the county for the taking on a load of s hingles. at Norton's Lock, a few miles above, an
"And I won't forget you." ( tion of the Maslins, for they had long since taken care to impress that fact on me. The diary states that a gentle man named George Armstrong, whom Mr. Maslin wrote down as being tall and fine-looking, but with a melancholy face, as though he was in trouble or had lately been sub ject to some misfortune, boarded at the farm with his little son, Richard, at that time age<} five years, for several months. That one day he received a letter which Mr. Maslin noticed bore the Boston postmark, and that its contents distmbcd him very much. He immediately started off without mentioning his destination, leaving the little boy in Mr. Maslin's care, with a small sum of money to pay his board for about the time he expected to be away. He did not return within the time he set, and from sub sequent entries on the same page it would seem that :Mr. Maslin never saw him again." And thus the two boys parted, for how long they could not guess. "It's a good thing you learned that much about yourself. I suppose something must have happened to your father or he would have come back after you," said Joe. "I suppose so,'' replied Dick, soberly. "What did you do with the diary?" "I've got it in the box where I keep my clothes." "You'd better hold on to it. Might possibly be of value to you one of these days." "It has a value for me, as it shows to some extent who I am," replied Dick. "Luke called me a charity boy, and that taunt caused the scrap. I've worked like a slave for the Maslins without pay, but I've received any amount of abuse Some morning Mr. Maslin will get up and find me missing." "What's that you say, you young villain?" yelled the strident tones of the storekeeper, behind them. He had entered the store and approached them unob served. "Don't you let me catch you tryin' to light out of here before I give you leave, or I'll be the death of you. What do you mean, anyway, by hangin' over the counter and idlin' your time away when there's a dozen things you might be doin'? Go into the kitchen now and peel the taters for Mrs. Maslin; d'ye hear?" And he seized the boy roughly by the arm and swung him into the midde of the store. "I'll try and see you later, Diek, before I go," said Joe, holding out his hand to his chum. "I don't think you will, young man," said Silas Maslin, significantly. "My help hain't got no time to waste on visitors." "I guess he's got a right to say good-bye to a friend," retorted Joe, indignantly. "Then he'd better say it right now afore you go," said the storekeeper, ungraciously "Well, Dick," said Joe, bottling up his wrath, for he realized that Mr Maslin was master of the situation, "good bye,. if I don't see you again." "Good-bye, Joe,'' and the two boys clasped hands sadly. "I'll write to you and let you know where I am and what I'm doing," said Joe "I hope you will Be sure I sha'n't forget you." As it proved, however, they were shortly to be reunited in a somewhat startling way. Dick went into the kitchen, where Mrs. Maslin handed him a tub of potatoes and a knife. "Take the jackets off 'em, and see you lose no time 'bout it nuther," said the lady of the house sharply. Dick made no reply, but seated himself on a stool in a corner and began his work. "You 'most ruined Luke's new snit of clothes this artcr noon,'' snapped Mrs. Maslin. "Ef I wuz Silas I'd take it out'r yonr hide. It seems to me my boy can't ask you to do the simplest thing for him eny more but you must fly at him." Dick knew it was useless to enter into any explanation with her Luke had evidently told the story in his own way, and whatever he might say now wouldn't count. "Don't you know it's your place to do whatever he asks of you?" asked Mrs. Maslin, shrilly. "I've never refused to do anything for him when he asked me civilly,'' said Dick. "Hoighty toighty !" exclaimed the lady, sarcastically. "Must my boy bow down before you, you young whipper snapper? The idea Who are you enyway? Ef it hadn't been for Silas and me, where'd you been now, you ungrate ful cub? We've clothed you and fed you and eddicated you, and now you turn on us." "I think I've worked pretty hard for all I've received,'' replied Dick, doggedly. "What ef you have? It ain't more'n you ought to do. You've finished the taters, hev you? Put 'em down, then, and don't stare at me in that way. Go out and fetch me a pail of water." Dick obeyed without a word and then, as the mistress made no further demand on his services for the moment, went up to his bare little room just over the kitchen. He opened the box where he kept his things and, diving down into a corner, fished up a small buckskin bag in which he kept the pennies, dimes, quarters, and several half dollars he been slowly accumulating from odd jobs he had done for various persons during the last three or four years He counted his little store slowly over. "I've a great mind to--" He never finished that sentence, for suddenly the door was thrown open with a bang and Silas Maslin rushed furiously into the room. "You thief! Give me back the money you took from the store-till this afternoon!" '"rhis is not your money," said Dick, dropping the coins into the bag and holding it behind him. "I'll see whether you'll give it to me or not!" As Silas Maslin sprang at him Dick thrust the bag into his pocket and proceeded to defend himself as well as he could.
This would not have been an easy job, for Mr. Maslin was stro ng and wiry; but chance aided the boy. The storekeeper's foot caught on a rent in the rag-carpet, he pitched forward and struck his forehead against a corner of Dick's box with such force as to cause a nasty ")VOund that stretched him, stunned, on the floor. CHAPTER III. LEAVING HIS IIO:M:E. At that moment Mrs. Maslin appeared in the doorway and, perceiving her husband st retched motionless on the floor with the blood streaming down his face and Dick Armstrong standing over him in an attitude of defence with his fists half clenched-for the mishap which had overtaken Silas Maslin had been so sudden that he stood quite stupefied with surprise-she conceived the idea that the boy had struck down her lord and mas ter, perhaps killed him. "Help! Help! Murder!" she screamed loudly, dash ing open the window and making the air ring with her s hill cry. Huskins, the hired man, was coming into the yard from the fields. He heard Mrs. Maslin's frenzied cries, saw her violent gesticulations as she leaned out of the window, and think ing the house was on fire, he dropped the implements h e was carrying and ran forward. In the meantime Dick had rai sed Silas Mas lin to a sit ting posture and was trying to stanch the blood with a corner of the coverlet which belonged to his bed, when Mr s Maslin turned around and saw what he was doing. "Don't you dare touch him again, you young villain!" she screamed, suddenly attacking the boy with her bony fists. "What's the matter with you?" objected Dick, trying to ward off her blows. "Why don't you get some water and try to bring him to? What do you mean by pounding me in that way?" "You ruffian! You murderer! I knowed you was born to be hanged!" yelled the excited woman, thumping the boy about the head and arms till he had to retreat out of her reach to save himself, for he had no idea of striking back at her Then she grabbed her husband in her sinewy arms and started to drag him from the room just as Huskins ap peared on the scene and stared in astonishment at what he saw. "Don't let that boy escape, John!" cried Mrs. }1aslin. "He's made a murderous attack on Silas, and ef he hasn't killed him it'll be a great wonder." "You don't mean Dick, ma'am?" exclaimed Huskins, in evident wonder. "I don't mean no buddy else," snapped his mistress, sharply. "Tie him up so he calft get away, and then run for the constable. Lands sake! It's a wonder we haven t all been killed in our beds afore this I never knowed he was such a desprit boy." Mrs. Maslin then bore Silas into her own chamber in the front of the house, and set about bringing him to hi senses. "What's up?" asked HuskinS" of Dick. He had always liked the boy and didn't know what to make of the situation. "Mr. Maslin came up here and accused me of taking money out of his till in the store, and when I denied it he started to seize me, when his foot caught in that hole in the carpet and he pitched forward, striking his head against the corner of my box and cutting his fore head open. 'rhe shock must have stunned him. Then Mrs. Maslin appeared, threw up the window and began yelling like a crazy person. I tried to do something for Mr. Maslin, but she attacked me furiously, calling me a ruffian and a murderer, and I don't remember what else. I tell you, John things are getting altogether too hot for me here. Between Luke and the rest of them I am hav ing -a dog's life of it. I might as well get out now as at any other time." "I s houldn'.t blame you if you did. I should, if i.t was me." rep1ied Huskins, who knew what a hard time the boy hacl of it and really pitied him. "I don't believe Mr. Maslin has lost any money," said Dick, indignantly. "I know I didn't take any. I'm not a Lhief." "Maybe Luke took it," suggested the hired man, with a peculiar wink. "Luke!" exclaimed Dick in surprise. "What makes you think he did?" "Wel1, he wanted five dollars mighty bad this morning, for he tried to borrow it of me. I asked him what he wanted it for, but he wouldn't tell me. I guess he wants to send for something he' s seen advertised in the paper." "How do you know he does?" "From s omething he said to me the other day," said Huskins, sagely. "If Luke took the money, he'll deny it, all right. His father will take his word before mine, and his mother will back him up ai:; she's done fifty times before. I've got a few dollar s saved up, and as Mr. Maslin has discovered that fact he won't rest till he's got it away from me. I need that to help me out after I leave here. So I guess I'd better go befor e Mr. Maslin gets his hands on it." "You're right there, Dick. The old man's fingers are like pot-hooks-they hold on to everythir;g they fasten to. Once he gets possession of your money, you'll never see it again." uYou'd better go down and look out for the store, John, till Mr. Mas lin turns up. I'm going to make a bundle of my things and start off." "Then you're real1y determined to go, Dick?" "Yes," replied the boy, resolutely, "I am. Mr. Maslin has called me a thief, and that's the limit with me." "Well, I wish you luck. Let me hear from you some time. I'd like to know how yet get on," and the hired man held out his hand. ''.Thank you, John. I sha'n't forget you." They shook hands, and Huskins went down stairs.
--closed his room-door and pushed the chest of drawers against it, as he did not want to be interrnpted or taken at a disadvantage. 'fhen he put on his best suit, made a compact bundle of s uch articles aK he deemed indispen s able, put Mr. Maslin's old diary into an inside pocket of his jacket, and was ready to leuve the house. He was about to remove the che s t of drawerR when he heard the unmistakable voice of Sila s Maslin mingled with the s hriller to11es of Mrs. Mas lin, 011 the landing approach ing hi s door. His retreat by the s tairway W!ls evidently cut off. What was he to do? The door of his room was pu s hed in an inch or two, as far as the obs truction would permit. "Open the door, you young villain!" exclaimed the voice of Silas Maslin, whose temper had by no mean s been im proved by the injury he had received. "Pus h the door in, Sila s," s aid his wife. "There ain't no lock to it." ''He's got s omethin' again s t it,'' replied her hu s band, impatiently. Mebbe it's the che s t of drawer s or the bed." "It a}n't the bed," s aid the storek e eper, and he flung him s elf s uddenly again s t the panel with a force s ufficient to pu s h the obs truction back a foot at lea s t. Throngh thi" opening he thru s t hi"l h e ad and saw Dick Arm s trong beating a ha s ty retreat b y way of the window. "He' s gettin out of the winder Y o u s tay here, Maria, and I'll try to catch him below." Jfr. Mas lin, whos e head was bound up with a towel was a pretty liyely man for hi s sixty odd year s and the way he got down the s tairway and out into the yard would have put man y a youn g er man to s hame . But the boy a s active a s a young monkey, and guessed pretty what hi s per s ecutor's tactics would be. He dropped hi s bundle into the yard, s wung him s elf out and alight e d nimbly on hi s feet, and when Mr. Mas lin clas hed ont to cut him.off Dick was passin g through the gate into the road. "Come back here, you young ra scal, or I'll s kin you alive!" he s houted angrily. Bnt t.he boy had no intention of returning now that he hnd crossed the Rubicon at la s t. "I'll have you took up and put in tlw calaboose; do you hear?" Dick heard, but the threat had no effect on him. Re bounded. around the comer of the fence and ran full tilt into another boy, knocking him head over heels. The floored youth proved to be Luke Mas lin, who was returning from the village. rrhe s on uttered a yell of pa.in and terror as he floundered about on the grass. Dick had gone down also, his bundle flying out of his hand a yard away. As he picked himself up, a familiar voice exclaimed: "Hello! What's the trouble? Is that you, Dick?" "That you, Joe?". "Sure it's me! I was hanging about for a chance to you again if I could. What mu s s have you got in now?" "Come along with me and I'll tell you about it,'' Dick s aid a s he picked up his bundle. Mr. Maslin now hove in sight a few feet away. "Now I've got you, you pesky little villain I" and he made a da s h at the boy. "Run, Joe!" Fletcher took the hint and s camp e red after his chum, who was flying along the "heel" path of the canal a s fa s t a s he could go. In the gathering du s k the torek e eper failed to recog nize his s on and heir a s t.he latter lay sprawling in th e patb, ahd a s a con s equence he s tumbled over Luke's ex tended leg s ancl pitch e d forward head like a ston e from a catapult. The mom e ntum h e had acquired in hi s eagernes s to lay hold of Di ck now work e d g reatly to hi s dis advantage Striking the path, he rolled over and ove r clutchin g v a inly at the g rass to s tay hi s progress. A s the space between th e fence and the canal was narrow at thi s point b e fore he realized hi s predicament be was carried over the embankment and fell with a s plash into the water. "Help!" he yelled, and then his head went under. Hus kin s had bee n attrac ted to the spot by the rumpu s and was in time to fish hi s employer out of the canal; but by that time Dick Arm s trong and hi s friend Fletcher were s afe from any immediate purs uit. CHAPTER IV. ON BOARD THE MINNEHAHA. "So yon are'nt goin g back an y more, then?" s aid Joe Fletcher, a.fter Dick had related to him the ex c iting experi ence through which he had passed since the two lads had parted, apparently for good, in Mr. Maslin's s tore a littl e more than an honr before. "No, Teplied Dick, firmly, "I'm not. I am done with Sila s Maslin for good and all. The boys were re sting on a decayed tree-trunk by the s ide of the canal. It was now almo s t dark, and both of them, having hurl nothing to eat since noon, were hungry. "I gues s you've clone> the right thing, Dick," s aid his frie:i:id. "You aren't likely to be any worse off than you've been at the Corner." "I'd have pretty hard hlck if I was. I'd never amount to much ;is long as I s tayed with Mr. Maslin. He took care that I didn t get much chance to get up in the world. I wis h now I'd more s chooling," s aid the boy, regretfully. "I'll bet you know more than Luke Ma s lin, and he' s gone regularly to the dis trict school. At hi s agc-he'R a year older than you-he ought to be at the Slocum High School. I don t think he cares a lot to study." "Many boys don't seem to realize what they l e t get by them until it is too late," said Dick. "You and I, Joe, have got to cut our own way in life without any help from
anybo,1 y I guess you can hold up your end. As for m e l d o n t intend to let any grass grow under my fe e t from this on. J f y ou 've res ted enough, w e' ll mov e on t o N or ton 's Perhaps your friend Uap'n Bea s l e y will give u s something lo ea L I h a v en't had a mouthful s ince dinner, and I fe e l a s if I c ould clea n out a p antry." "Same h ere. Captain i s all right, and s o i s hi s w i f e The y wouldn 't. see an y on e, even a tramp, go hungry if they could h e lp it,'' s aid Joe a the boys r es um e d their m a r c h "'l' hey've a daughte r too name d Florrie 8he's a,; pretty a s a pi c t u re,'' and Joe grinne d bro a dl y Dic k was n t partic ularl y inLerei;t c d in pretty girls a t that mom ent. H e w as thinking wheth e r Uaplain B e a s l e y wou l d con sent t o take him down to New York a l ong with Joe on the canalboat. "I gue ss he will if I pay him s omethin g and I m willi _ng to put u p what' s fair," mused the boy Norton's Lock was about s ix miles from Cobham' s CoTner. Di c k and Joe rea c h e d there at ei ght o 'cloc k. C aptain B eas l ey's b oat was moored agains t the ea stern b11nk of the ca n a l and a few yards awa y was a g oods iz e d liquor sto1e, l i t up w ith kero s en e lamps and, judging fro m the c rowd within doin g a thriving tra d r 'I h e r e was al<'o an open s hed c lo se b y. p arti all y fill e d with bund l es of shingl e s brou ght the1e for shipment from the mill a mile o r s o away. Di c k follow e d Joe aboard the c anal-boat and was intro duc ed to Captain B e a s ley and hi s wife and daughter. A s s oon a s Mrs. Bea s ley found out that the b oys w e r e hungry, s h e spre ad a corn e r of the t a ble in the littl e cabin for them, laid out the remain s of a joint of cold mutto n boiled a pot of c offe e and upon this flank e d b y a plentiful supply of br ead and butter, the two lad s maL l e a v e r y sali;: factory mea I. Di c k off ered to pay his wa y to N c w York City, but the good -nature d s kipper of the Minnehaha wouldn't hear of it for a moment "You and Joe h e r e are both of y ou welcom e l o go along with u s and it sha'n't c o t y ou a cent. I a s k of y ou it to turn your hands to an odcl job or two, may be, till w e hitch on b ehind the tug that take s u s d o wn the river." Dic k accepte d his gene rou s offer with thanks, as J o c had a lready done earlier in the day when he brought hi s meagre bundle aboard on the strength of the captain's former invitation. "N9ither of yon l ads seem s to be en cumbe r ed with much clunnage," s aid the s kipp e r with a humorou s gl a n c e at the two attenuated bundles range d s ide by side on a shelf and which contained all they boa s ted of in the world. We both lit out in s uch a hurry that w e didn't have time to pack our trunks," grinned Joe. "Boggs skinne d me out of s ixty dollars; and a for Di c k I b e lieve there wasn't anything coming to him, though h e put in many a year of good har d work down at Cobham s Corner for Silas Maslin, who runs the store and t he vi ll age post-office." "I've heard of him,'' nodded Captain B e a s l e y recharg ing his pipe, "and I've heard of you, too, Master Dick, afore this," and th e s kipp e r look e d at the bright, stalwart, young runawa y "Silas :Mas lin, I under stan d i s a h ard mall' t o w ork for, thou g h I reck o n Na than c a n give him a few p oints in that line. B ot h o f 'c m h ave wives tha t fol k s say would s kin a fle a for its fat. F ro m whi c h I judge that on e's a pp rtitc i s n t pamper e d at e ilh er pla c e "Tha l' s ri ght, ' c o rrob o rat e d Dick. "We 'v e both been throug h the mill and ought to know. J haven't had. s u c h a go od sprea d a s w as set b e for e to ni ght ri ght h ere sinc e l can r e m ember and I've a pretty goorl recoll e ct ion." Mr. B eas l ey and h e r
CHAPTER V IN WHICH SILAS MASLIN FAIJ,S TO HIS RUNAWAY. In the morning the boat was hauled across to the other side of the canal, the side on which the towpath ran; a tandem mule team in charge of a boy who sported the biggest and most disreputable straw hat Dick had ever seen, was hitched on, and the boat began to move slowly down the canal. As they approached the bridge at Cobbam's Corner, Dick got out of sight of the shore. He knew there would be trouble if any member of the Maslin family caught a glimpse of him on board the Min nehaha. So he squatted down inside the limited bit of hold in the eyes of the canal-boat which he and Joe had used for sleep ing quartels, while his chum sat on the combings of the hatch with his legs swinging down and his gaze fixed on Cobham's Corner. u I don't see anybody about," reported Joe, as the boat drew nea r the bridge which crossed the canal at this point and connected the two sections of the county road. As those words passed his lips the forward end of the canal-boat passed under the bridge, and Luke ran over to the other side of the 11tructure to meet it as it floated clear. Dick easily overheard his young enemy's remarks from the spot where he was screened from Luke's line of observa tion. He forgot, however, to change his position below as the boat passed under the bridge, not thinking that Luke, by crossing the planks to the opposite rail, would be able to obtain a different focus down into his hiding-place if he was wideawake enough to keep his eyes well employed. As this is exactly whal Master Maslin did do, the result w;1s he discovered Dick's crouching :figure in the narrow hold as soon as the head of the canal-boat shot out into sight again. "I see you down there, Dick Armstrong!" he cried, of a suclden, triumphantly. Then he rm;hed off to the store to tell his father. "I'm afraid it's all up with me," said Dick, as he scram bled out of his biding-place. "Well, I'd like to see them try to take you off this boat if you don't want to go," said Joe, rolling up his sleeves, while a look of determination came over his freckled featCaptain Beasley came forward and called on Fletcher ures. to help detach the towline so that the boat could pass "It won't do to resist the constable," warned Dick. "I under the bridge. won't have you get into trouble over me." While they were doing this, Luke Maslin appeared at "But the constable isn't around here now," put in Joe. the door of the store. "They'll send him word as to my whereabouts, and he'11 His eyes roamed over the canal-boat from stem to stern get a rig and cut me off further along down the canal, don't and finally fixed themselves on Fletcher, whom he recogyou see?" nized, having seen and spoken to him many times when "The only thing for me to do now is to leave the boat Joe called at the store to get supplies for Nathan Boggs before I'm overhauled," Dick continued "For if I wait or to see Dick. until Constable Smock comes along and invites me to go Suddenly he ran out on the bridge and took his position ashore I'll be deprived of my savings by Mr. Maslin, even just above where the boat had to pass under. if he doesn't follow up his threat to put me in jail." "Hello, Fletcher!" he shouted. "I dare say you're right, Dick; but you can't skip yet "Hello, yourself," growled Joe, castillg a side glance at a while, for here comes the old man and Luke across the him. bridge. They'll be down on us in a GOUple of minutes. "What are you doing aboard that boat?" You needn't be afraid that Captain Beasley'll make you go "Taking a sail." ashore to oblige that old rhinosceros. And if he attempts "What for?" to board us, he'll be trespassing, and a douse in the canal "For my health," snorted Joe, as he pitched the end of would be the proper thing to cool him off." the tow-line ashore Captain Beasley was leaning negligently against the for" Have you left Nathan Boggs?" continued Luke, with ward end of his cabin, smoking his favorite briar-root pipe a grm. in the autumn sunshine, when Mr. Maslin came running "Better ask him when you see him," answered the boy, down the tow-path and hailed him, his son following along squatting down with his back to young Maslin, a pretty behind. good sign that he wanted no further communication with "You've got a boy on board your boat I want. He's his questioner runnin' away from my place yonder, after stealin' a five-But Luke wouldn't take the hint. dollar bill. I want you to put him on shore," demanded "Seen anything of Dick Armstrong?" he persisted. Silas Maslin, keeping pace with the canal-boat. "He's run away from here with some of my father's money. "I've got two boys aboard," said the captain, in an inConstable Smock is hunting for him Father is going to different tone. "Which one do you re'fer to?" have him put in the village lock up." "The one with the new suit of clothes on," replied the Joe didn't answer him. storekeeper, pointing to Dick. "His riame is Armstrong." "Maybe you've got him hid away aboard the boat," "All right," agreed Captain Beasley. "He came on added Luke, suspiciously. "If you have, you'd better give board of his own accord, and if he's willing to go ashore him up, or it will be the worse for you." he can go now."
! .. --"I want you to make him come on shore willin' or not," said Silas l\1as lin, energetically. "I'm afraid I can't do that," sai d the skipper, shaking his head. "Why can't you? You 're captain 0 that boat, and I reckon you can do 'bout a s you please on board 0 her. 1 he doesn't come back with me and hand over the money he took from me, I'm going to have him arrested and put in the lock-up." Captain Beasley walked forward to where the two boys were standing, Mr. Maslin ha s tening hi s steps to keep abreast 0 him. "That's the man you've been living with, ain't it, Arm strong?" asked Captain Beasley. "Yes, sir," admitted Dick, respectfully. "You've heard the charge he made against you and his demand that you leave this boat and go back with him?" "Yes, sir," replied the boy, beginning to ear that he was to be given up. "Have you any 0 his money about you?" "No, sir; I never took one cent 0 his money from the store," replied the lad, stoutly. "Are you willing to go ashore as h e wants you to do?" "No, sir; I'd rather you'd throw me overboard," said Dick, with flashing eyes. You hear what he says,'' said the s kipper, turning to the storekeeper. "I reckon I ain't deaf," replied Mr. Maslin, in a surly tone. "I'm afraid I can't do anything .for you," said Captain Beas ley, turning on hi s heel and walking away. "Ain't you going to make him come on s hore?" de manded the storekeeper, angrily. "No, sir; I've nothing whatever to do with your quarrel with the boy." "The boy is a thief, and you're helpin' him to get away," cried Mr Maslin. "Don't you know that's ag'in the law and that I can make you sweat for it?" "He has denied the charge, and as there is no proof against him his word is as good as yours," replied the skipper, resuming his former station against the cabin wall. "I'll have you up before the justice for this," shouted Mr. Maslin, coming to a stop and shaking his fist at the captain of the Minnehaha. "And what's more, I'll have that boy took up by the constable afore you get many miles further down the canal." After hurling his threats after the rec e ding boat he and Luke turned about and hurried back the way they came. "I guess the storekeeper means to send the constable after you with a warrant for your arrest, Armstrong," said the captain when the two boys ranged up alongside of him after Mr. Maslin took hi s departure, "in which case you'll have to go along with the officer. Now, if you will take my advice, young man, you'll get ashore at Caspar's, a mile below here, and make your way by land to Albany, where we'll lay up a week or so, as I've got to load up there for New York after discharging what I've brought on from Buffalo and Syracuse. You can leave your -your friend will look out or it." As the captain's advice was good, Dick determined to act on it. After receiving explicit directi'ons where to rejoin the boat at Albany, Dick bade all hands good-bye for the time being and left the boat at C,aspar's. CHAPTER VI. ROW DICK RUNS ACROSS A DESERTED FARMHOUSE, AND WHAT HE FINDS THERE. Caspar's was simply a small roadhouse, situated near a bridge. Dick Armstrong crossed the bridge and struck out across the country, following the country road. He had general directions how to proceed, but expected to depend on people he might meet along the road to keep him from going astray. The morning was young when he set out, and as he was in good spirits and accustomed to plenty 0 exercise, he walked along at a swinging gait. About eleven o'clock he was overtaken by a farm wagon, the owner of which not only gave him a lift or several miles on his way, but his dinner also at a neat farmhouse a distance back the turnpike. Although the farmer refused payment, Dick insisted on helping him for an hour about the barn, and when he finally left to continue his journey the fa.rmer's wife handed him a substantial package of eatables which included a pint bottle of milk. About dark Dick reached a junction of two roads. It was a lonesome neighborhood, and as nobody was in sight to direct him which was the better one to take, he turned into the road leading off to the right. He was glancing around for a large stone or a tree-stump for a seat on which to rest while he ate his supper, when he spied a light dimly shining through a window a little distance back from the road. "I've walked enough for to-day," he mused. "I'll see if I can't get a bed or a chance to sleep on the hay in the barn, perhaps, up yonder." The gate opening on the lane leading to the house was wide open and hanging by one hinge only. As Dick approached the dwelling he was impressed by the air of neglect and desolation which hung about the place. But for the solitary gleam of light which penetrated the gloom he would have believed the premises to be deserted. The boy knocked several times on the weather-seamed door, but no one answered his summons. Finally he decided to turn the handle of the door. It yielded to his touch, and he entered a large room that was ,quite bare and cheerless from floor to ceiling. The dim light from a candle stuck in the neck of a bottle standing on a dusty mantel shelf showed him the motionless figure of a man crouching over an old stove, in which was a fire, at side of the room. "Heilo !" Dick exclaimed, by way of introduction.
thr almo1>1 g hoth l'rnm "\Ylrnt',; the trouble with you?" n;;krd Dick, for he eas ily made out that :-;omrthing ailed the man. "T"m f:ick," was thr lrnlf moaned reply. "Sick," repcarccl the boy, looking nr him aHrntivrly. ''Cl rr Yon do look bad, for a Cnct. Whn t can I do for you?" ''I I' yon wonlcl flo rnr a la\'Or. go out to the bam hack of the bnilding. Y01dl find my team there. There's a conple or blankd;; in the wagon and a number of gunny sacks. Bring them in here so I can make a bed and lie clown," aid the man, slowly and with much difficulty. Dick put his bundle of food on the floor and hastened to do af' the stranger had requested. He found the team-a pair of stout horses hitched to a large covt:red wagon-jui::t as it had been led into the de serted am1 mildewed barn aml lef t stnncling there. With the aicl of a match or bro, a supply of which Dick from habit alil'ays carried about with him, he climbed into the wagon nncl fonnd the things the man wanted. The only other articles the boy noticed in the vehicle were a couple of empty bushel baskets, a sack half filled with oats, a horse bncket, a long whip and a small wicker hamper. Dick carried the bags and blankets into the house and sprcarl them out so as to form a bed. "'l'here," he said, in his cheery "you can lie down now. If there's anything else J can do for you, let me know." "You're very kind, my lad," gratefully replied th.e man, who seemed to be about fifty years of age. "You might get a few ticks for the fire; the night is cold, and I'll be glad if :vou could find me a drink of water anywhere near by-you'll find a cup in the hamper in the wagon. Ancl then, if you'd nol feel it was too much trouble to give those animals a mess of oats which you will find in a bag in the wagon, you will do all that I would ask of you." "All right," i::aid Dick, and he chcerfu11y proceeded to do 1rhat the man asked of him. Tfc f01111yes rc>:'ting on tbr pile of rosy apple s he had brought in, an idea .struck him. "There s an orchard hack of thebarn that's full of thi::; kind of apple s," he s aid, s howing a couple to B ond. "If you don't mind, 1 could load tl1e wagon with them, and we could s ell them at a good profit in Albany. They're
oniy going to waste here, and a s your wagon is empty, it's a chance for both of us to make a stake." "Do so, my lad, if you think there's anything in it for you. I won't touch a cent of what you may get. I'll give you the use of the team for what you've done for me already." Dick waa delighted and thanked him heartily. "Can you eat anything at all this morning?" he asked Bond. The man sh ook his head, said he felt tired, turned over, and tried to go to sleep again. CHAPTER VII. DICK'S FIRST SPECUJ:,ATION. Dick spent the entire morning gathering apples, ma king selection of the best that he shook down or knocked from the limbs. "It's like picking up money," he mused as he gathered them into one of the bushel baskets and then carried them to the wagon, which he had drawn out into the yard, and dumped them inside. "I wonder how many bus hel s I can get. away with," he :figured, after a care:ful estil;nate of the load he had already secured. "I believe this wagon will hold close on to forty bushels, but it'll be an all-day job to gather that many. I'm afraid I'll have to be satisfied with twenty, if we're going to leave here early this afternoon. That ought to give me fifty dollars out of the spec. Gee! That's better than working like a slave for Silas Maslin at nothing a week and skimpy board." Dick looked in on Hiram Bond every little while, but the man appeared to be sleeping right along. Noon came, and the boy began to feel decidedly hungry. "I guess I might as well clean up Mr. Bond's basket," he argued. "It isn't likely he'll care for any solid food to-day. I'll get him some milk at the first house I see along the road." So Dick ate the sandwich, the piece of gingerbread, and the remains of the apple pie, topping off with a big drink of spring water. After that he felt very much better and re s umed his work with fresh energy. At two o'clock he found Hiram Bond awake, but as weak a s a to use him own expresl:lion. Clearly the man was in no condition to leave the place that day. "I fear thir; will :finioh me," said Bond, in a weak voice. "I'll take one ef the hortie s and start on down the road for h elp," Haid Dick, regarding the man with an anxious eye "You'll die at this l'ate, .for you haven't had any nouri s hment but that small cup of inilk all day." "Perhaps you had better do R o," acquiesced Bond, feebly. '' 1 think there's a farmhouse about five or six mile s below h e re." Then I'm off," said Dick. "I'll get the m to send a vehicle to remove you from this place--you can t stay here another night." Dick mounted one of the animals and s tarted off dowl\ the road, the horse being accustomed to nothing faster than a gentle trot. rt was s omething over an hour beforn the boy reached a house. Here he told his story, which arou.;ed the practical sym pathy of the farmer, who hitched up a light wagon, col lected such things, including a bag of feed for the horses, as the occasion seemed to demand, and in company with Dick started for the deserted homestead. The farme1., after talking to Hiram Bond, decided to convey him to his house. Wrapping him up in the blankets, he and Dick started him to the wagon and made him as comfortable as possi ble for the ride. "I'll bring the team on later, "said the boy. Farmer Haywood nodded and then drove off, Dick re turning to the work of gathering more apples. By dark he had turned into the wagon thirty bushel s by actual count. "I can carry another ten bushels just as well as not," he said to himself. "T will stay here all night and finish the job in the morning. I'll be twenty-five dollar s more to the good by hanging on. I guess I can stand a diet of apples and water for a few hours, at that rate. It won't be the first time I've gone to sleep or to work half fed. If a fellow expects to get along in the world he's got to take things as they come; and say nothing." r ext morning about eleven o'clock Dick walked his team, with his load of some forty bu she l s of harvest apples, into Farmer Haywood's yard. "How is Mr. Bond?" was his first que::;tion of Mrs. Haywood, who greeted him at the door. "Very poorly, indeed. We had to for a doctor. I'm afraid he isn't going to recover." Dick was very sorry to learn this news. After he had hauled the wagon into a corner of the yard, and put the horses into the barn, the lad had something to eat and was then taken up to see Hiram Bond, who had been accommodated \rith a spare room and was the object of considerate attention. "I'm glad to see you again, my lad," said Mr. Bond, in a very weak voice, regarding Dick with an earnest expreo sion. "I l:lhould like you to slay with me while I lal:lt; I will make it all right with you." "I s hall be glad to s tay with you till I can get you back to your home in Albany,'' replied Dick, cheerfully. "I'm sure you'll be all right in a day or two." Hiram Bond shook his head. "I shall never be all right again. 'l'hi s isn't the first attack of heart failure I've had, but I feel it will be the la st. I've all my s trength. My insides seeni to ha re collapsed entirely. It is a strange, indescribable sen s ation that warns me to prepare for my last journry. Boy, it is useles s to di sg uise the truth-I am going to die. 'The doctor didn t say so, but I read the fact in his face. He s aw that he could do nothing for me. Well, it matters little whether I die now or a li'-tle later on. I have no kith or kin to whom my death would be a blow. I am entirely
alone in the world At one time it was different,. and I was well off; but now my team and the few dollars in my pocket -book represent all my earthly possessions. My boy, I have been thinking of you while I have been stretched on my back. You a.re beginning life quite as friendless, I might say, as I am leaving it. But you appear to have energy anrl the capacity for hard work. I have little doubt but you will succeed. You have been kind to me and I wish I was in a position to return the favor substantially. What little I can do for you to help you along I will do. You shall have my team to use or dispose of as you may think best. The money I possess will scarcely mare than recompense Farmer Haywood for his trouble and pay the expenses of my funeral. I should like to be bu\ied in some quiet spot-the nearest village burying-ground If you will sec that this is done, it is all I ask of you." Dick was exceedingly shocked as he listened to the words of the dying man-for that Hiram Bond really was passing away, slowly but surely, there didn't seem to be any doubt. \Vhen he finished, he asked the boy to fetch Farmer Haywood. He requested the farmer to execute a bill of sale, which he signed with difficulty, transferring his wagon and team of horses to Dick. After that was done he seemed to feel better. There wns little change in his condition until after mid night, when he gradually grew weaker and weaker, and finally died just before daylight Although Dick had met him so strangely only a couple of days before, his death affected the boy greatly for the time being He felt as though he had lost a good friend that he had known for many years A simple 'funeral from Farmer Haywood's to the nearby churchyard wound up t h e life history of Hiram Bond, and the day following Dick Armstrong drove his S'!-ddenly ac quired property into the streets of Albany He had an idea that by visiting the various hotels in the city he might dispose of his apples to good advantage and with more profit than if he did business with a commission merchant. His plan was successful, largely because the stewards of the places he visited happened to be running out of the fruit and because his apples were uncommonly fine and quite scarce in the market. As a consequence he obtained an average of about $2.60 a bushel for them, and when he put his team up at the place where Hiram Bond had been accustomed to keep it he was ill possession of bills and silver to the amount of $120, which included the money he had brought awa.y from his former home at Cobham's Corner. CHAPTER VIII. IN WHIQH DICK TAKES A PARTNER, AND THE FIRM WINDS UP THE APPLE SPECULATION. Late that afternoon Dick Armstrong, feeling all the im portance of a small capitalist, started out to locate the canal-boat Minnehaha He found the rendezvous of those craft without much difficulty, but to pick out the particular boat of which he was in search was not quite such a simple matter. At length he found her, hauled up against the wharf, discharging the last of her cargo. Joe Fletcher was working like a good fellow, helping Captain Beasley's regular deckhand, when he caught sight of his chum. "Dick, old man, I'm just tickled to death to see you again," he exclaimed, grabbing Dick's hand and shaking it as though he would pull it off. "We expected to see. you yesterday, according to my calculations. How have you fared since you went ashore at Caspar's?" "First class. I've news that'll surprise you," replied Dick, with sparkling eyes. "You don't say." "By the way, how about Constable Smock? Did he show up?" "Did he? I guess yes. He came up with us about eight miles below Caspar's Wouldn't take our word that you had gone ashore, but insisted on searching the boat. Of course, Captain Beasley let him have full swing After he had gone into every nook and corner that might have concealed you, he gave the job up and left, the maddest man I've seen for many a day. I was afraid he might get wind of you at Caspar's and run you down; but it appears he didn't. I'll bet Silas Maslin anc1 Luke ain't feeling any too good over the constable's failure to fetch you back," and Joe snapped his rough, brown fingers and laughed glee fully "You don't think that Silas Maslin would come on to Albany on the chance of picking me up, do you?" asked Dick, with a shade of apprehension in his voice. "You ought to be better able to judge of that than me, Dick. You know what he is and what his feelings prob ably are on the subject. If I was you, I'd keep my eye skinned and not let him catch me, if he should come." In a few minutes they knocked off work for the day, and while Joe was washing up, Captain Beasley came on board and greeted Dick in his usual breezy manner He accepted the skipper's invitation to supper, and when he made his appearance in the cabin was warmly welcomed by Mrs Beasley anc1 Florrie Joe and the others were curious to learn the particulars of his journey from Caspar's, though they had no idea that he had met with any particular adventure by the way. What he had to tell was therefore received with much surprise. "Gee!" exclaimed Joe, when Dick had finished his re cital. "I.f that doesn't read like a story-book! So the man actually gave you the wagon and the pair of horses?" "That's what he did. The outfit is housed at McGee's stables at this moment." "What are you going to do with them? Sell them, I s'pose, 'cause you can't take them with you on this boat." "I haven t decided what I'll do yet," said the boy, with a thoughtful expression.
"And what about the load of apples?" asked Joe, inter estedly. "I brought on forty bushels and sold them to half a dozen of the hotels just as soon as I struck town." "Good for you! How much did you realize?" "One hundred and four dollars." "No exclaimed Joe, in surprise. "That's right," nodded Dick, while his face lighted up with satisfaction. "That wasn't a bad speculation, was it, Captain Beasley?" "I should say it was a very good one," replied the skip per of the Minnehaha. "And I've got another one in my eye now that ought to pan out even better." "What is it?" asked Joe, eagerly. "There's' a fine grove oi' walnuts and hickory nuts on that deserted farm, and they'll be ready for picking just as soon as the frost sets in good and hard. They'll fetch over two dollars a bushel in this town at If there's one bushel, I'll bet there's a hundred and fifty to be got." "Great Scott!" almost shouted Fletcher in his excite ment. "Let me in on this, will you, Dick? I'll help you pick them at twenty-five cents a bushel, just for the fun of the thing." "I was about to propose something of that kind, as I wouldn't care to go out there all alone. You don't know what a spooky place it is. I'll take you in as a partner, Joe, and give you one-third of the profits. I'd make it even up, only the team costs something, and it's only fair I should have a percentage for its use." "A third is too much," objected Joe. "Tt's your dis covery and your scheme I'll be perfectly satisfied with one quarter." "No, Joe; it must be one third, or I'll call the whole thing off and sell the team," said Dick, resolutely. "All right, Dick; but I call it uncommonly liberal." "Pooh! We're chums, aren't we?" "Sure we are." "Then stop your kicking." Captain Beasley, who had been an amused listener to the foregoing debate, now ventured a word. "You forget, Master Armstrong, that it'll be some two or three weeks yet before yon can gather those nuts. What are you going to do in the meantime, for of course, if you've determined on this plan, you're not going down to New York on this boat." "Oh, I've got an idea to cover that time," said the boy, with sparkling eyes. "Another speculation, eh?" smiled the captain. "Yes, I dare say it is. Any risk that a person takes for the sake of expected profit is a speculation, r' suppose." "That's about the size of it," nodded the skipper. "But, 7first of all, I'd like to take a run out to that farm to-morrow and gather the rest of those harvest apples. There's fully another load to be got, and if I don't take them they'll rot on the ground." "]'min th,i;:. too, am I, Dick?" asked Joe, anxiously. "Why not, if you're willing?" "You can bet your suspenders I'm willing to go, all right." "Then that's settled. Do you mind if I bunk aboard here to-night, Captain Beasley?" asked Dick. "You're welcome to sleep, and eat for that matter, aboard the Minnehaha as long as she's here, young man. I admire enterprise in a fellow of your years, and you seem to be loaded to the hatches with it. If yon aren't a millionaire one of these days, it'll be because the trusts we read about and the plutocrats have gobbled up all the wealth that's lying around loose." Soon after that, the two boys retired to the forward com partment of the hold and turned in, but they had so much to talk over and plan for the future that it was nearly midnight before they fell asleep. They were on deck at sunrise. Dick found lots to interest him before breakfast, in the panorama of the city's water front, at least that section of it where the fleet of canal-boats was moored close in shore. After breakfast the lads bade Captain Beasley and his family good-bye, promising to look them up at the Water Street moorage when they reached New York. Dick then led the way to McGee's stables, where he and Joe hitched up the wagon and started out. Having provided themselves with provisions and feed for the animals, they took the road back to the deserted farm, at which they arrived, without any adventure, late in the afternoon. They passed the whole of the next day in getting together a load. Thirty-five bushels about cleaned up all the good apples left. They passed a night at the old rookery, as Joe called it, and on the following morning started early for Albany. Dick sold the entire load to a commission house for $95, but he and Joe had to procure the necessary number of barrels to hold the fruit in shape for shipment to New York. After paying to Joe his share oi' the profits, Dick found, expenses deducted, that his cash capital had increased to $175. CHAPTER IX. A. TRANSACTION NUTS "Gee! I never was so rich in my life!" exclaimed Joe Fletcher as he counted over the $30 he had received from Dick and contemplated the bills with a childish sort of delight. "If Nathan Boggs had paid you what he owes you for you five months' service on his farm, you'd have ninety dollars easy enough now," remarked his young partner and chum, tucking away his own "boodle" in a safe place "Yep, I 'spect so," grinned Joe, who was not lament ing the loss of that $60 just at present. "Boggs ought to be prosecuted and made to shell out."
"And the :;crews ought to be put lo Silas :Mas lin, too," s a id Joe. "He treated you worse, on the whole, than Boggs had the chance to do to me." you for so much"-naming a lower :figure-"and I'll pay you cash down for them." "I don t say he didn 't; but I'm satisfied if I never run across him again. I can make my own way in the world, and I'm going to do it." The farmer saw he had made a u1is take and started to hedge, but Dick said those were the only terms on which he would tak e the potatoes. "I'll bet you will. You re smart enough, a,ll right," a nswered Joe, admiringly. The boys had arranged with the stable keeper so they could sleep in the building in the little room in the hay loft formerly occupied by Hiram Bond. On their return from the restaurant where they had had supper they found a man wait1ng to see Dick "My name is Gibson," said the stranger, introducing himself. "I'm from Wayback, where I keep a general store. I've got a load of stuff I want hauled out to my place. Hiram Bond used to do my carting, but a he is dead and I'm told you have his outfit, I thought prob ably we could strike a bargain between us. What'll you charge me?" "How far is W ayback from her e ?" asked Dick, who was ready to accept the job if there was anything in it. "Nigh on to forty -five mile s." The boy pondered a moment and then named a figure. Gibson started to dicker for a lower sum, but Dick cut him short. "I wouldn't do it for a cent lower, Mr. Gibson. I don t know what Hiram Bond was accustomed to charge you, but the price I've set is a re::is onable one. I had s omething els e in view, but I'll haul your goods out to Wayback on the term s I've m<>ntioned. Is it a bargain or not?" Dick 's manner was thoroug11ly busines s -like, and he ap peared to be indifferent whether he got the job or not. "But you're only a boy," per s i s ted the Wayback store keeper. "-You ought to do it cheaper than a man "Think so?" retorted the lad, lookint" him in the eye. "Weli, that i sn't the way I do businm:s I expect to deliv e r your stuff in as good s hape as Hiram Bond woi1ld have done, o the fact that I am a boy can't make any differ ence." 1\fr. Gibson :finally agreed to the charge and told Dic k to b e on lMnd at certain wholesal e s tor e in the morning where h e would meet him. "All right. Good night, sir." "But they ll fetch more'n that in town," objected the farmer. "I expect to make a profit, or I s houldn t have mad e you the offer," said Dick. "But I made a mi s take in putting the price too low. I can get more n that at a commission store in the city," per sisted the agriculturalist. "I offer you s pot cash," and Dick yanked out his roll of bill s which he displayed before the owner of the pota toes. "Take me up, and you're relieved of all further bother." The farmer needed the money, and the sight of the cash smothered his scruples about selling at a reduced price, o the deal was closed on the s pot. Dick drove around to his farm and examined his s tock of potatoes. He :found them to be in all respect s a s they had been repres ented s o he paid over the money and loaded them into the wagon. "That was a good trade," s aid _Joe as the y drov e down the road "Yes; I expect to make at least twent y -five dollar s out of them," replied his chum. As a matter of fact he cleared $32, for the price had gone up a little within the two day s h e had been away from the city. Next day Dick picked up anoth e r cartage job a s far as R ewtown ,Junction on the railroad. Just before reaching hi s des tination h e noticed the sec tion men replacing a lot of old s leeper s with new ones. The old ones were tossed a ide for the pre s ent and h e saw a group of s mall carrying seve ral oJ them off. This put an idea into hi s head. On his r eturn he s ingled out the section boss and asked him if he c ould have a few. "Sure; take as man y as you want r e pli e d the man, good -na ture
His capital, had to He ciecided it was 9ow time to look up contemplated venture in Aceotdingly he l)llrchtlsed the snpp licA for a poRAible \Veek'fl stay at the deserted inrlh, :ind they made an early start for the scene of tlpetatioM. The nights wt're now cold and frosty, and the boys found it neces s ary for cot11fort to keep up a good fire in the oltl. ntsty stove, the only article left behind by the former occl1-pants when the,v moved away. J uRt why this farm had been aban1lo11ct 11cighbor. It had been vacant for more than a year, and a mil l' ecn lh ttl l your lifr. Wait till yo11 str ike New York, find you'll be "I think 111}l, Jot!, with you at n1y. elbow to show me the 1'opcR. l'i'c cnt my !!Ye-teeth !n a lWctty hard school, and eYen i:f I'tn only shtt!cn, I :f eol sure I can hold my owl1 ngninRt tho world. I've 111acle nearly four lrnndted dollars s ince I cut loose from 1\fr. Mm;lln, :fottr weeks ago, and I think 1.hat' s h. pretty :fait s ho1dng for rt beginnet." It WaR 110\r qtiltc dark ancl a hHn in the road brought them i11 si,Q'ht or the house. "Hclln !" exclnimrd .T oc, clutching Dick suddenly by the arm. "Sonwon e before i1s this time." And he poi11ted to n light which s hone frol11 nn en.! window of the kitchc:h. CHAPTER X I:\ WJTICll DICK Ferns LlJKE 'MASLIN JN BAD COMPANY A::\D OVERHEATIS A SHADY "'I"ranipR !" ejacnlatc scratched hi. heacl and adh1itted the fact. "We.Ye Rimph beC'n trcepassers on the propetty from the start." said Dick. "\\'di, whaL arc we going to rlo about it?" Flctc!wr as Dick pt1lled up umlcr the ttecR by the side o'f the roncl a short cliRtance :from the gate. "Wait here till I come buc k," n.nd tlw young
,r- 1.:h -=::-uz What's .ne doing here?" muttered the outside. Naturally his curiosity was greatly excited. It was a strange place and strang e company for the son of Silas Maslin to be found mixed up with. What did it all mean? "I never knew Luke to be away from home before, and here he is thirty miles from Cobham's Corner," mur mured Dick. "There's something queer about it." The cold night wind whisking about the building soon made the young watcher's position one of discomfort. "They act as if they intended to stay a while," he said to himself. "I'd like to discover what their intentions are." Dick thought a moment; then he went round to a door which he knew opened on an entry that communicated with the kitchen. He removed his shoes and cautiously entered house. The door at the end of the entry leading into the kitchen was partly open, and through this door the boy plainly heard the sound of conversation. He tiptoed his way to the door, and through the crack between the upper and lower hinges he got a good view of the intruders. As the trio spoke in their ordinary tones, Dick heard every word they said. "I didn't agree to go into any such thing as this when I left home," said Luke, in a tone of plain remonstrance. "It ain't what you agreed to do; it's what you got to do, now you're with us," spoke up the whiskered man, with a fierce glance at the storekeeper's son, evidently bent on intimidating him. "What you kickin' about, Luke," interjected the other youth, whom Dick thought he identified as a certain bad boy of W alkhill village named Tim Bunker. "A feller that'll steal five dollars off his old man ain't got no reason to grumble when he's showed how he kin make twenty times that much without any risk to mention." The speaker leaned forward and squirted a stream of tobacco juice into the fire, while the bearded man nodded his approval. "I didn t steal five dollars," said Luke, doggedly. "I" borrowed it from the till because I needed it, and I was going to put it back when I got it again." "Ho, ho! That ain't the way you give it to me first. You told me how slick you got away with it, 'cause you wanted it to buy a gun you saw advertised in a Syracuse paper, and your old man wouldn't give you the price. Then you said the old man found out he was a fiver to the bad and charged Dick Armstrong with stealing it. He skipped out 'cause he couldn't prove he d\c1n't take it and didn't wanter go to jail for what he didn't do. And you ain't heard nothin' from him sinc-e, have you?" "No, we haven't," growled Luke. "After doin' all that damage, now you want to preach us a s ermon ag'inst helpin' ourselves to a nice little bunch of dough that's just waitin' to be put in circulation after lyin' in old Miser Fairclough's strong-box these forty years. He's a peach, ain't Mudgett?" appealing to the man .. / -beside nim, wl10 at that ml, 11e11,, was taking another drink from his flask. "A born chump," admitted Mudgett, wiping his lips with the cuff of his jacket. "I'm disappointed in him, Tim." "So'm I. Thought he had more backbone. And it's such an easy snap, too. Just like pickin' up money, ain't it?" grinned the Bunker boy. "That's what it is," replied Mudgett, complacently. "It was a clever idea of mine to send that old miser a letter telling him his brother, who lives ip. Walkhill, was dead and had left him the bulk of his money." "That's right," grinned Bunker. "Fairclough has been waitin' for his brother to die for twenty years or more. It's the only thing that could have got him away from his house." "And now all we've got to do is to walk in and help ourselves," said Mudgett. "That's all," winked Tim Bunker. "It's l'tlll:).ost a shame it's so easy." The young rascal chuckled and thumped Luke on the back. "Brace up," he cried to Mr. Maslin's graceless son. "You're one of us now in this scheme, and Mudgett won' t hear of you backin' out at the last minit." "But I don't want nothing to do with it," protested Luke. "That doesn't make no matter of difference whether you want to or not,'' said Mudgett, in a threatening voice. "You're in this thing right up to your neck, for you delivered that letter to Fairclough himself, and he won't forget that when he comes back and finds out what hap pened while he was away. You can't go back to Cobham's without the certainty of being arrested on sight." The bearded man stated the case with such brutal frank ness that Luke turned white and began to whimper. "Shut up, will you!" thundered Mudgett, reaching over and grabbing Luke by the collar. "Stop your snivelling, or I'll break every bone in your body." The storekeeper's son was frightened into silence. "When do we start, Mudgett?" asked Buuker, fishing a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. "We'll start now, i guess. It must be close on to nine o'clock. There isn't much danger of anyone seeing us on the road after that hour." Dick, who had been an amazed listener of the foregoing conver s ation, concluded it was time to withdraw. When he got outside he found the light had been extin guished in the kitchen, and he took that as a sign that the trio were on the move. Fearing his presence might be detected in the yard if he attempted to recross it to the fence, he crept under a corner of the porch and waited. Mudgett and the two boys appeared almost immediately and walked out to the road. Dick was in a sweat lest they might discover the team where it had been waiting a good half-hour for him to return. But they turned up the road without looking in the oth e r direction, and when Dick reached the gate h e could jus t make out their figures disappearing in the distance.
XI. DICK AND JOE ON TIIE TRAIL OF MUDGET'l', TUf BUNKER AND THEIR DUPE. "You've been a mighty long time investigating matters," grumbled Joe Fletcher, poking his head over the seat when he heard his chum's voice for he had retired to the interior of the wagon to keep warm. "Perhaps I have," replied Dick, as he climbed up to bis perch and started the team. "But I guess I'll surprise you when I tell you what I've seen and heard." "Well, I'm ready to hear the story," said Joe, with min gled impatience and curiosity. "Of course you've heard of William Fairclough, who keeps a stock farm at Walkhill," began Dick. "Sure I have." "And you've also heard he has a brother named Adam, who lives on the outskirts of J ayville, which six miles from here." "Yes the folks in Walkhill call him Miser Fairclough." "You've got it right. He occupies an old mansion, built some time before the Revolutionary War. He bought the place for a song, I heard, about forty years ago. Well, there's a scheme on foot to rob old Fairclough to-night, and it's up to us to head it off." "Rob the miser! "exclaimed Joe, in astonishment. "Exactly. He ha s been decoyed away to Walkhill by a bogus letter, which informed him that his brother William is dead." "Gee I You don't mean it I" "I overheard a large part of the scheme by listening just outside of the kitchen door that opens on the entry." "Then it was a gang of robbers you found at the hou se?" said Joe, in open-mouthed wonder. I found a man and two boys," answered Dick. "But before I say anything more we'll unharnes s the team and make them comfortable for the night." The two boys lost no time getting the horses into the barn and putting before them a plentiful supply of oats. "Did you ever run across a fellow named Tim Bunker in Walkill ?" asked Dick, taking up the thread of his story again, as he dived into their provision hamper and fished up a couple of egg sandwiches, one of which he handed to his chum, with the remark that time was pre cious and that was all he might expect to eat for some "Yes, Luke Maslin," repeatc Dick, enjoying 111 astonishment. "He's in pretty bad company." "Why, what's he doing 'way down here, thirty miles from the Corner?" "That's what surprised me at first, but from what Tim Bunker said in the kitchen while I was taking it all in from the door, I've got a pretty clear idea of the way Luke has got himse1f into this pickle. It seems he take that five dollars out of his father's money-drawer that I was accused of stealing." "I guessed he was the thief," nodded Joe, "Then he foolishly boasted of it to Tim Bunker, think ing he had done a clever thing. Now it looks as if Tim took advantage of this knowledge to force Luke to join him and the man Mudgett in the enterprise' they have in hand without letting him know exactly what they intended to do." "What makes you think he didn't know?" it looked to me as if they'd just been explaining the real situation to him before I came on the scene, for he was kicking against it like a mule." "He was, eh?" "Yes. Mudgett and Tim Bunker were sharp enough to put Luke in a tight box before they took him into their confidence." "How?" '"rhey had him deliver the decoy note to Adam Fair clough. It was a mean trick, for it implicates Luke in the job, as they intended it should That puts him completely in their power, don't you see?" "I wouldn't be in his shoes for a mint," said Joe as they turned into the road leading to J ayville "But it serves him right for stealing that money from his father, and then when it come out letting yot1 shoulder all the blame. He wouldn't have opened his mouth to clear you if you'd been arrested for the theft and put in the village lock-up," he added indignantly. "I gue s you're right," admitted hi:; chum. "Of course I'm right. Didn't he give you away to hi father the moment he spied you hid down in the hold of the canal-boat?" "He certainly did, and I think I could have thrashed him for it if I'd had the chance. I felt like doing it." "And my fists just tingled to get a rap at him, too," blurted .Joe. hours. "He's in a pretty bad hole now, all right. If we can "I've heard of Tim Bunker," sai d Joe, with a nod, as prevent this burglary to-night, it is possible we can save they wamed toward the road. "He's a hard nut. What him from some of the conseqiiences of his foolishness." about him?" "I shouldn't think you'd care to waste much considera"He's mixed up in this affair." tion on a fellow who for years treated you as mean as Luke "Is that so? Can't say I'm much surprised has done," said Joe, in some surprise "And who do you imagine the other boy to be?" "I don't say he deserves anything of me, but still I'm "I couldnt gnct>'." willing to
.. '-. -::' ,__ ilo1T . \. l si.lppo:ie. Luke could turn State's endence allt1 escape the penalty." "Very likely." "I'm sorry you are getting mixed up in this matter," said J oe, gloomily. "Why so?" said Dick, ]ooking at his companion in sur prise. "You wouldn't stand off and allow that old man to be robbed when you might be able lo prevent it, would you?" "I don't mean that; but your forget that we are liable to be detained as witnesses if a capture i s made, and thal will give Silas Maslin a chance to get hold of you again." Dick stopped short and regarded his chum for a moment in silence. He had not thought of thatunpleasant contingency. "This will make a slight change in my plan s," he said, suddenly. "l intended to get help to tackle these fellow., but I think now it will do as well if we. succeed in scaring them off. I'm satisfied if we can put a spoke in their wheel, and it will do away with the difficulty you men tioned." To this plan Joe agreed with alacrity. The sky, which had been over cas t up to this point, now began to show through here and there in patches. And ere long the impris oned moon sailed into these spaces, and her light occasionally illuminated the land scape. One of these spells of moon;;hine showed the boys the dis tant spire of the J ayville Methodi t Church and the roofs of many of the "The Fairclough mansion i s over yonder," said Dick, pointing in the direction. "I remember Mr. ::\Iaslin point ing it out to me a year ago, when we drove clown here one day on business. We'll cut across this meadow and s ave at least two miles by the road." On the other side of the field was a clump of trees Dick pointed out a couple of branches that would make stout cudgels, and he and Joe were presently in possession of a pair of serviceable weapons. As they cautiously drew near the Revolutionary relic they made out three indistinct figures hovering about the building. Suddenly the figures clustered about a rear window that was high above their reach, and Dick and ,Toe saw one of them mount on the shoulders of the other two and com mence operations by splintering the glass with a blow of some implement. At that interesting juncture the boys' ears caught the sound of approaching wheels,. and before they realized what was about to happen a miserable-looking buggy, drawn by a thin, bony mal'e, dashed into the unkempt driveway and rattled up to the porch. The occupant of the ramshackle vehiclr showed up in the moonlight to be an old man of at lea R t eighty years, wrapped in a faded green overcoat, with a comforter of some indescribable color tucked about hi s throat, th ends floating in the night air. His approarh had been di@rovrred by the would-be burg-.. .. ,.. 'l11 lars, and the two who had orm a th e of the pyramid !hat had jus t boos ted the third thro1igh the fractured win dow, rnshed around to the front of the 11ouse and attacked the old man from two sides. "That must b e Adam Fnfrclough," explained Dick, he am1 Joe springing to their feet. "He must have met some body on the road who lolcl him that hifl brother wasn't dead, and thus aroused his R uspicion s that something was wrong at this end of the bus ine ss, and so he came right back. Those rascal s may kill him if we don t ihterfcre Joe. o, come on. Let' s tak e !hem hy s urprise." Thercnpon both boys leaped the fence and, fiouri : hin g their cuclgels, rushed to the re scue ClIAPTBR XII. DICK AN"D JOE BLOCK :i\[UDGET'l' AND 'JUI BUNKER'S SHADY EN"TEP..PRTSE. l\Iudgett had seized the old miser by the arm and wa<> dragging him out of the buggy when Dick Armstrong sprang upon him like a young tiger and bore him to the ground. At the same instan t ,J oc Fletcher ran around the vehicle and hit Tim Bunker such a whack over the head with his cudgel that the Walkhill youth saw unnumbered stars and hastened to make his escape over the back of tho buggy. But Joe cut him off, a11d the two lio:vs were soon mixing it up pretty liYely, with all the advantage in Joe's favor. In the meantime Dirk found l\Iudget a tough proposi tion to ge t away with. while t:1c brardcc1 man discovered in the strong and active boy a harrl nut to crack. Old Adam Fairclough, thus relievC'd of hi s assailants, stoo d helples s lv aloof, and watched the s truggle that waR going on about him. He seemed to be utter ly bewildered b y the condition of affairs that had faced him on hi s return home. And while this lively scrimmage was going on in the front of the hou se, Lnke Masli11 i11 the rem took arlvan tage of the opportunity to scrnrnbl e out of the window through which hC' had been forced to effect an entranre. and, r eaching the grounrl, he took to his heels ancl off into the line of woorlR be.\'Onrl .fence as fast a s his heels would carry him. "Let me up, you young imp!" exclaimed :;\fuclgett, pant ing for breath nft r r seve ral inrffr ctua l efforts on hi s part to di s lodge Dick from a11 ndvantagcouH pos ition on chest. "Do you give in?" nskC'd tlw almost equally breathless boy, refn sin_g to budg e i:iu inch from hi A pC'rrh. "Ro, han g for ri mecldlesomr littl r monkPy Ent if you don't l et me up I'll break your h ear l !'' "I don"t think yon will, Mr. l\fuclgett," an s wered Dirk ''You know my name, eh? Who the di cke n s are yon. nnyway ?''said the rascal inn tone that showe d hi s "Never mind who I am," r e turn ed the lad. "I'Ye got you dead to n ow, K O you might ju s t a s well throw up your hand.;; n t once."
"Not on your life gritted .Muugett, renewing the strug gle. But he might just as well have saved his strength, for Joe having mastered Tim Bunker and bound his arms behind his back with the whip-lash belonging to the buggy, now came to his chum's assistance, and Mudgett, with a villainous scowl, gave up the light and suffered himself to be secured with one of the traces which Joe took off the horse. "I'm afraid these men meant to kill me, thinking I had money," said old Adam Fairclough to Dick, in trembling tones, when the lad stepped up to assure him that he no longer was in danger of molestation. "But I'm a poor old man. Poor-1ery poor." "They were in the act of breaking into your house to rob you when we turned up, intending to prevent them carrying out their plan, which I fortunately overheard." "Why should they want to rob me when I'm only a poor old man?" cried the miser, in a pathGtic voice. "They think you have lofa of money hidden in your house," replied Dick. "Not a cent-not a single cent!'' wailed the old man, beating tl1e air with his arnr in a sort of abject clenial. Dick of course believed Adam Fairclough was not telling the truth. He had always heard people say the man waiuvorth thou sands of dollars. That he owned half a dozen good farms which he rented out to thrifty tenant That he held mortgages on a dozen more. That he had a strong-box filled with family plate that had not been used for fifty years, anu a second one stuffed with gold and banknotes he had taken out of circulation in order to hoard up for the mere pleasure of accumula tion. Probably the old man's wealth was greatly exaggerated, but there seemed little doubt that he was tolerably rich. Dick led him around to the back of the house and showed him the broken window. "They sent you a letter saying your brother William in Walkhill was dead; isn't that so?" asked the boy. "Yes, yes; but it was fabe-:-my brother is nol deacl at all." "']'hat was a trick to get you away from here they might searrh the house dnring your absence." rrhen Dick told him the whole story of what he had learned at the old farmhou se. ''You are a goocl boy-a brave boy," ;;aid the poor old uuser, shaking the lad by the hand in a pitiful way, for he app eared to haw but little strength after the s hock he had s u staine d. "If I wasnt so very, very poor, I'cl reward you." "Don't worry about thal, repli e d Dick, with a cheerful ne;,s that put the old man more at hi s ea se. "If you ll let u s stay here for thEi re s t of the night, i L's all we want." "You shall stay-yes ye s, you shall stay; but there i su't an:dhing I could give you to eat. I'm so poor I can't buy much." From the appearance of both his horse as well as himself it was eYidcut the didn't squander much of h is money on food of any kincl. They were both shrivelled and dried up like a pair of animaled mummies. Indeed, when Dick led the animal off to its stable he almost fancieu he could hear its bones rattle with each step it took. ''Poor old beast!" he murmured sympathetically "How I'd like to give you one good, square meal! But I fear the shock of it would lay you out." And the mare, as if it understood him, looked at him with her saucer-like eyes in hopeless Such a thing as a square meal to her was a dream, never to be realized. 'l'he oltl man wouldn't have the prisoners taken into the rnnnsion. He was afraid of them,. and so Joe ti eel them securely to in the stable. Ins irle tl10 there were bolts and bars without num ber. Every room appeared to be completely furnished, but the old-fashioned mahogany pieces, that must have been valu able in their day long ago, were now given over to the ravages of dust and neglect. Adam Fairclough ate and slept in one little room at the top of the building, of which the boys caught only a momentary glimpse as the old man led them past to an other room in which were a bed, some chairs, and other articles in a fair state of preservation. There the miser feft them after assuring Dick once 111orc that he was"1l1i;;erably poor and sorry he couldn't do better by them. "Gee!" grinned Joe when they were alone, "what a liar the old fellow is "Never mind, old man," replied his chum. "It's none of our busine s. We've done our duty, and I can sleep like a top on the strength of it. There's one thing I'm glad aliout-Luke Maslin has skipped." Next morning old J:'airclough produced some weak boiled c offee anc1 a plate of hard bread and cheese, which he offered to them for breakfm,t with every evidence of earne:;t hos pitality, repeating his refrain of abject poverty. He wrote clown the boys' names in a big, leather-bouml book, making a large cro s s opposite Dick';; name. When they went out to the stable to look after l\iudgett and Tim Bunker they "ere :;urprised to find that the :rascals had managed to liberate themselves somehow and had Luken French leaYc. Tht: boys didn't know whether to be glad or sorry, bul, on the whole, they were pleased to find they would not haYe to appear again s t the housebreakers. Then they bade the old man good-bye, ad, i siug him to be yery careful again s t any future attempts of a like nature. They reached the deserted farm about nine o'clock, looked after the marle their s tomach s happy with a sub stantial meal, and then hied thems elve s to the nutting-
ground, where they spent most of the day gathering up the remainder of the crop. Not knowing but they might possibly be surprised by the fugitives, Mudgett and Tim Bunker, if they passed the night in the house, they left the place before dark and put up at Farmer Haywood's for supper and a bed. Next day they arrived back in Albany and disposed of their final load of nuts, the whole speculation netting, them the sum of $375. That same afternoon Dick sold the team for nearly $400. "I think we can afford to take the train for New York," he said after figuring up his cash capital, which he found amounted to $850. And Joe readily agreed with him, for he had $155 tucked snugly away in an inside pocket. CHAPTER XIII. WRECK AND RESCUK the embankment into the river, almosi every car becoming a shapeless wreck, and human beings, full of life and hope a moment before, were suddenly ushered into eternity or maimed and mangled for life. It was a rear-end collision. A terrible scene was presented to Dick's gaze when he recovered his scattered senses. He was stunned by the shock and made giddy by the wild vaulting of the car as it leaped the rails, swung around and buried its read end in the Hudson. He was bruised and badly shaken up, but he was not seriously injured. Fortunately Dick was endowed with a, remarkable degree of seH-possessiom Finding he was not hurt, he struggled out from beneath the wreckage which had overwhelmed him. His first thought was for Joe, but the boy was not in sight, which, under the circumstances, was hardly to be wondered at. "Gee t She's a beaut, isn't she, Dick?" Then the groans and screams of the mangled passengers The Buffalo .Express, on board of which Dick Armstrong pinned under the wreck confused him and distracted his and his friend, Joe Fletcher, were traveling to New York, attention from his chum. had just stopped at Poughkeepsie, and the exclamation was Perhaps it is not strange that the fair young girl who drawn from Joe by the appearance in the car of a lovely had occupied the opposite seat in the car came to his young girl of apparently fifteen years of age, accompanied mind, for his eyes and thoughts had been upon her at the by a fine-looking gentleman of perhaps who seemed moment of the cafastrophe. to be her father. He did not see her among the men and women who "She is pretty, for a fact," admitted Dick, casting a look were disengaging themselves from the shapeless debris. of admiration at the young lady. "ls she dead?" he almost groaned, as he thought of that She had light hair, blue eye and dimpled cheeks, and golden head and lithe figure smashed beyond recognition. her smile was an entrancing one as she turned to say someThen he wondered if her father had escaped, for, like thing to the gentleman when he. seateil himself by her side. Joe, he had a short time before the accident gone forward The train soon started on again and was presently speedinto the smoking-car, and the boy saw as through a mist ing clown the bank of the River at a fifty-mile clip. the locomotive, express-baggage, and smoking cars back It was a dull afternoon early in November, and the landslowly down on the wreck, a crowd of wild and excited passcape looked brown and unpicturesque. sengers tumbling off the rear platform of the latter. The great river flowed sluggishly along, and as they It was impossible for anyone to say just what had caused passed a string of canal-boats preceded by a snorting tug, the trouble, but it might have been a broken axle or a sud the boys thought of Captain Beasley and the Minnehaha. denly loosened rail that had snapped the conpection between During the next hour a large portion of Dick's attention the cars. "as centred on the pretty girl who had boarded the train A portion of the top of the car Dick had just wriggled at Poughkeepsie. from under lay near him, and seeing a woman's foot ex" Ever hear of Spuyten Duyvil ?" asked Joe. posed beneath, he exerted his strength and raised one end "Yes," answered Dick. a bit. "It's not far above Ma. nhattan Island, and we'll pass It rested heavily upon the form of the fair passenger there soon. Guess I'll have another drink." from Poughkeepsie. Joe went to the end of the car where the tank was, but The sight aroused all his energies. whether his numerous drinks since leaving Albany had With desperate eagerness he put his shoulder to the used up all the water, or because there wa something the heavy fragment that was crushing out the girl's life, and matter with the cock, certain it is Joe had to go into the shifted it nside. next car to get what he wanted. Then he bent down and lifted her in his arms. ITe hail probably been gone a couple of minutes and "Great Scott!" he exclaimed, anxiously, "I believe she is Itiek was watching the pretty stranger for perhaps the dead." hundredth time, when something startling occurred which She looked the picture of death, for her eyes were closed changed the whole aspect of affairs in the twinkling of an and her pallid cheek was stained with blood. eye. Dick, hardly knowing what to do, bore her down to the A trrmendous shock stopped the train's momentum ana riYer edgr and l"pla,-hrcl the wat.rr into her face, pilPrl f'nr-tnp rif each other, hnrli11g-n roupl<' down watching f11r Ho11w sign or rPturning nimatiou
He rubbed her temples and chafed her hands, but the task seemed hopeless. He was about to abandon his efforts in despair, when an almost imperceptible sigh gladdened his heart and caused him to renew his exertions. With his handkerchief he washed away the bloodstains, and found that she was only slightly cut just above the ear. In a few moments she recovered consciousness and cast a bewildered glance around her. She tried to raise herself, but with a little cry of pain she sank back in Dick's arms and lay there staring up into his face and scarcely comprehending what he was doing for her. Suddenly the fearful nature of the catastrophe dawned upon her mind, and clutching at the lad's arm with one little hand, her other arm lying limp and helpless at her side, she raised up again. "My father!" she cried with pathetic earnestness. "Where is he?" "I saw him leave you and go into the next car before the crash came,'' said Dick. "He went to the smoking-car," she moaned. "Perhaps oh, perhaps he was--" "If he reached the smoking-car, he is safe," said Dick, encouragingly. "That car was not damaged. I can see it from here," and the boy nodded his head in the direc tion where it stood on the track. "And I see your father now!" he exclaimed suddenly.' "He is running this way. Wbat is your name?" "Jennie N csbitt," she replied faintly. "Hi, hi! Mr. Nesbitt!" cried Dick, motioning to the girl's father. The gentleman started and paused when he heard his name pronounced. Looking wild.ly about be saw Dick signaling to him, and he easily guessed that the recumbent figure in the boy's arms was his daughter, and he rushed down to the spot. "Don't say she is dead!" he exclaimed frantically, the te:ns streaming down his cheeks. "Jennie, darling, speak to your father!" and he knelt down and seized her nerveless hand. A cry of pain broke from the girl. "Are you much hurt, my darling?" asked Mr. Nesbitt, anxiously, taking her in his arms and kissing her tenderly. '"I don't know, father," she answered faintly, putting her uninjured arm around his neck. "My l eft arm is very numb." "I should be obliged to you if you would assist me in carrying my daughter up this bank," said the gentleman to Dick. Between them they carried her across the tracks and laid her on the faded grass under the trees, where a score or more of the injured had already been placed to await the attention of the physicians that had been telegraphed for. "Can I be of any further use?" aEked Dick, wistfully, after he had expl i cd how he discovered the young lady under the sect1 car-roof and removed her to the waterside in the hope of bringing her to. "I sh ould like to hunt up my chum, who was traveling with me." "I will not detain you," said Mr. Nesbitt, grasping him by the hand. "You have been very good tci my daughter. She proba .bly owes her life to you. I can never sufficient ly thank you for the service you have this day rendered to me," he said with grateful earnestness. "I am glad I was able to do something for your daugh ter,'' replied Dick, simply "Be sure we shall not forget you. I think you said your name was Richard Armstrong?" "Yes, sir." "You will not forget that, Jennie. Here is my business card, Mr. Armstrong. You must call at my office, for we want to know you better." "Thank you; I will do so at the first chance," replied the boy, noticing that the address was a New York City one. "Perhaps I shall see you again before you leave here." "We shall be glad if you come back as soon as you find some trace of your friend, who, I think, probably has escaped, since, like myself, you say he went forward before the accident occurred." The wounded and the dead were now being rapidly taken from the pile of ruins by those who were uninjured . Dick, gazing upon the work of the rescuers, saw Joe helping like a good fellow to clear away a part of the splintered car in which he and his chum had been riding. With a shout of joy Dick ran up and seized him by the arm. "Thank goodness, you're safe!" he said, delightedly. "Gee wilikens !"cried Joe, throwing his arms about him in a spasm of pleasure. "I was almost certain you were a goner. How did you manage to get out of this ruin with out a scratch? Wby, it's a perfect miracle! Half the car is smashed into toothpicks." For an hour Dick and Joe worked hard to help the un fortunates who had suffered from the wreck. By that time the force of doctors sent from New York had arrived and were helping the half-dozen local practi tioners who had previously been brought to the scene of the disaster. There being nothing for Dick and his chum to do, the former thought he would like to know how the young lady he had assisted was getting on. He found Mr. Nesbitt and his daughter in the same spot, and presented Joe to them. They were glad to learn Dick had found his friend uninjured. A surgeon had set Miss Jennie's broken arm, which was to pain her a good deal. One of the train hands now came up and said they had better board one of the cars of the relief train which was about to start for the metropolis. Miss Nesbitt said she thought she could walk as far as the car if Dick and her father supported her. She was made as comfortable on one of the seats as cir cumstances permitted, and in a few minutes the train.
started with its melancholy load of maimed, dead, and business sagacity and determined to help him on the J;oad dying. to success At the Grand Central Station a e:nrriagc was obtained by Dick to take the injured young miss and her father home. 'fhe girl bade the lad a grateful good-bye and exacted a promise that he would call and sec her at her home very soon. "And don't forget I shall expect to sec you at my office in a day or two," sai d Mr. Nesbitt as the vehicle drove off. "Gee!" said Joe as they watched the carriage disappear around the corner. "You may have done a big thing for yourself for all yo u know, Dick, old boy. You've made yourself solid in that quarter, all right. And a good friend goes a long way in this city sometimes. Come along, now. I'll pilot you down to my old boarding-place." Whereupon they walked to Third A venue and took a sout hbound car. CHAPTER XIV. DICK BUYS AN INVENTION THAT PROVES TO BE A WINNER. Although Dick Armstrong had lived in the country all his life, and Albany was the bigge s t town he had hereto fore seen, still the great city of New York did not over whelm him by its immensity. He was a level-headed boy and believed in taking things as they came 0 course he found lbts to interest and a st onish him, but that was only what he had expected. He and Joe spent three days taking in the sight-; of the city, which of course were quite familiar to the latter, and then Dick decided to call on :Jir. Nesbitt. That gentleman was a well-known lawyer, and his office was in a big skyEtcraper on lower Broadway. It rather took Dick's breath away when he was whisked up to the sixteenth story in an express e l evator, yet nobody would have judged from bis manner but that he was accus tomed to the trip. "Second corridor to your left," said the elevator man to Dick, and the boy, following this direction, had no trouble in finding the offices of "George T e s bi tt, Attorney and Counsellor -at-Law," who occupied a i:mite of hanc18omely J'.urnished rooms, from the windowl:i of which a splendid view of the bay and the two riven; WUl:i to be had. The lawyer extended a warm greeting to hi:; young vis itor. ".l\Iy da11ghter is uoing very nit:el y, l'YCl',)'t.11ing coni;it1-crcd," he s aid. "You not delav c:alling on us; she will be rcry glad to see you again." "I s hall be happy to do so," answer e d Dick. 'Then why not come to-morrow evening? You have our address.'' This suited the boy, anc1 the matter was so arranged. Then irr. Nesbitt asked Dick about hi s p1:,pects. T'he lad gave him a brief outline of his pa s t life at Cobham'::: Corner and \rhat he had done si nc e he broke away from Sil as i\Ia s lin. The Ja,wyer was impressed with the boy's earnestness and "How would you like employment in my office?" he said. "I do not mean as a clerk. I think I can u s e you in a way that will develop your natural bmi incss talents. I have control of several extensive estate s A young man of your ability can be made useful to me in many ways, and the experience will be of great value to yourself. You are young. The world i s before you. The obligation s under which you have placed me by your attention to my only child under the most trying of circumstances make me desirous of interesting myselt in your future career. Will you give me the opportunity of doing so?" Dick was both surprised and pleased at the proposition, and he accepted it at oI;Jce. Mr. Nesbitt seemed gratified by the lad's acquiescence, and he explained to Dick what his immediate duties would be. "I should be glad if you will start in to-morrow," he aicl, fina1ly, and the boy was told to be at the office at halfpas t nine on the following morning. That evening he and Joe went down on Water Street and had supper with Captain Beasley and his family on board the Minnehaha. "So far as obtaining employment is concerned," remarked the skipper as he took down, filled and lit his briar-root pipe, "you two lads seem to have started on even terms both of you having got a job to-day; it now remains to be seen which will pull out ahead." "Oh, there isn't any doubt about that," replied Joe, heartily. "I take my hat off to my friend Dick first, la t, and always." "Come, Joe, you're laying it on thick, aren't you?" laughed bis chum. "Not on your life. I'll leave it to Captain Beasley. Five weeks ago you lei'.t the Corner with a mea sly sixteen dollar s in your pocket; to-night you could count out eight hundred and fifty made by your smartness, and I have one hundred and fifty acquired through my connection with you We are not in the same class, old chappie I haven't got your head. If I had, I'd back m yself to win a million in a year or two." Dick :;pent hi s fir s t day in Mr. N office learning many of the itu ated about thirty mile s out on Long Island, and Di c k went there once a week lo attend to bus ine ss matters in connec tion with its management. He wa returning one afternoon on a Long I sland Rail road train when a young man ni ma. car at a way
H e look e d to b e a bright fellow with a frank, in genuom counte11ance th a t naturally irn : pired c onfiden ce; but he l o ok ed p a l e and w eak n s thoug h rccoveri11g from a lon g illn ess Dick got into conver sation with him anc1 soon found out h e was an R11glishman, who hacl c o me to Am e rica more than a yea1 b e fore after havin g b r en thrown on hi s own r c sonrc e s b y the death of hi s only relative. He lrnd not been in securing s teady emplo y m ent, and s ub sequent illness had brought him clown to bed-rock. How he was going to get on he hadn' t a very clear idea "If I onl y had a few dollar s,'' he s aid s adly a s he gaz e d through the car window at the bleak, wintr y pros pe c t, "I feel sure I could get on m y fe et." "Then you 're brok e arc you?" ask e d Di ck, syrnpathcti rally. _Jp-..;t Satmday abon-t n ''All ri ght." Di c k put the clra1Ving into hi R pocket. 'I'll l e t yon have five dollar s on arcnunt now, aR ,vou pl'Obnbly nC<'cl the mon ey," he offeting hif! new acq11ain brnc c a hill of tlrn t d enomination. "Tf T clo11 't tah up th r I won t r<'qnir c you to r e tt1rn rnr th e fiver 'rhat's ge n e rou s of yqu," s aitl the other, earne s tly. "i1Ie eli11g you i s ihc fir s t s lrok e or luc k I've had for m onths." "Don' t be too sure of that,'' r e plied Dick, cautious ly "There may be nothing in it, after all." The n they talke d of other matters till the train arrived at the Flatbus h Avenue Station, wher e they parted, Dick taking an electri c car over the bridge for New York. That night he showed the drawing to Joe, who roomed ll'ith him, and tog ether they d i s cussed the feasibility of the sch e m e proving a paying one Dic k had a s hrewd idea that a manufacturer of water"Flat," admitted the young Englishman, in voice. "That's tough." a dej e cted cooler s was the bes t person s to con sult on th e project, and next clay called on one who happened to be a personal friend of 1\Ir. Nes bitt "Yes it i s It i s strange how hard luck follow s a fel low. I'll s how you something I inv ented jus t before I was t aken down with the ga stric fever. It's a good idea, and s ince I got out of the ho spital I've been trying to sell a half-interes t for a hundted dollars s o I can g e t it patented. But nobod y s eem s to see any money in it." The young tranger put his hand in his pock e t and drew out a well worn p o ck e t-book. From this he produced a descriptiv e drawing of a new idea in water-cooler s "This i s entirely diff erent from anythi11g on the market,'' he s aid, "and if manufactured and properly pu s hed, I don t se e why it shouldn't sell well. Yot1 s ee, the water is kept entirely separate frorn the ice, which is c hopped up, mixed with rock salt on the s ame pri11ciple as that and packed around an ice-cream can. The i c e preparation i s put in h er e, the space indicate d by I, the water in here, which i s s impl y a galvaniz e d receptacle which can be r e moved wh e n the cool er i A to be clean e d out and re charge d. The advan tages of this s cheme a r e that yon can uRr filter e d wat e r or any s pecial kind of spring water-in fa c t any kind of fluid and keep it c old without dire c t contact with or contam i11atio n from the i ce itself. "The id e a i s n t bad,'' R aid Dick thoughtfully, as he studied the diagra m care fully. "You want on e lnmdrecl
' --:....,, doi1 -o<: \!.Jid. i 'iin make out a ne.i01.iifof sale giving you the -.oole' right to the invention." "Wait a moment," said Dick, and h e went inside and had a consultation with Mr. Nesbitt. The result was that Dick bought the invention outright. On the following Monday he went to the manufacturer and made a contract with him on the terms proposed Although the boy did not then dream of the ultimate results of this deal, we may say now that the coolers were ready and put on the market in time for the summer tra.de. They were a novelty, took splendidly, and in the end Dick disposed of the patent rights to the manufacturer for $5,000 cash. OHAPT 'ER XV. A NERVY VENTURE AND WHAT CAME OF IT. One day toward the end of March, Dick was taking lunch in a Fulton Street chop-house when two well-dressed men entered the place and sat down at the opposite side of the table. They were talking about some real estate deal they had in contemplation, and did not appear to regard the boy's presence as a bar to their conversation. "We can get a. thirty-day option on the property for one thousand dollars, pending examination of title," said the shorter man of the two, after the waiter had taken their order. The old man's bed-rock price for the entire thirty acres is twelve thousand cash. He wanted fifteen thou sand at first. Allowing for streets, we can get out of it twelve city lots per acre, or three hundred and sixty lots altogether. The corner lots will fetch one hundred and twenty-five to one hundred and fifty dollars each, and the inside ones, say one hundred, according to location. That means we should realize about forty thousand dollars in the gross. You have figured out the expense of cutting through the streets, the cost of having the title guaranteed, probable cost of printing and newspaper advertising, com missions to agents, and so forth. The location of the prop erty is good; the Long Island main line has a station close by, and the main of Sodom can be extended through the property. Old man Durwood is clearly anxious to sell, or he .wouldn't let H go at that figure. It is easily worth sixteen thousand dollars to us as it stands, and I would give that for it sooner than let it slip through my hands." "It's a good speculation," said the tall man, nodding his head. "Thompson and Davis are in this with us, I believe." "Thompson is ready to put up a certified check for his share at any moment. I will see and settle with Davis this afternoon. To-monow morning I will go out to Sodom and get the option and the deed from Durwood." The talk then branched off on the plans of the specula tors for improving the property and putting it in shape for sale at lot prices. Although Dick apparently paid no attention to what the real estate men were saying, nevertheless he was an inter ested listener to their conversation. It happened that the Long Island estate to which the t' __ _, >-. ;;, I ========== lad made weekly waflil' the neighborhood of the vil lage of Sodom. He had a speaking acquaintance with Jonas Durwood, the owner of the thirty acres referred to above, and knew something about the property in question. It had been on the market for some time. Durwood had been offering it at $13,000, one-third cash, balance on a five-year mortgage. The four real estate men evidently intended purchasing the property at the reduced :figure for spot cash, with the view of cutti:iag it up into lots and then disposing of them at a good profit on the whole investment. "So," t.hought Dick, "they would sooner give sixteen thousand than let it siip through their fingers. A thirty day option on it can be had for a thousand. Well, I've got a thousand lying idle. What's the matter with my stealing a march on this syndicate of four, getting the option my self, and then make them come to terms with me. If tliey should refuse to deal with me, it might put me in a hole; but I guess Mr. Nesbitt would see me through, for that piece of ground is well worth fifteen thousand at any rate." Dick thought he saw a fine chance to make $3,000 or $4,000 inside of a month if he took the thing on the fly. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained," he muttered as he drew near the office. "By the great horn spoon, I'll do it l M:y bank-book is upstairs. I'll draw the money and take it down with me to Sodom this afternoon, for fortu nately this is the day I am due thei:e. Wben that chap goes down to-morrow he'll find that someone else has got ahead of him. Gee Won't he be hopping mad? Well, I guess!" It was Dick's rule not to let the grass grow under his feet when he embarked in an enterprise. Therefore he hustled to get his money, and left on an early afternoon train for Sodom. He hunted up Jonas Durwood right away and made him a twelve-thousand-dollar cash offer for the thirty acres. "What? what? You want to buy that ground, eh? Who for? Mr. Nesbitt?" said Dnrwood in some surprise. "I want a thirty-day option and I want you to put it in my name. Here's a thousand dollars to bind the bar gain. See?" Jonas Durwood saw the bills, and the s ight of them melted all further opposition he may have thought of ad vancing with a view of a better figure. The preliminaries were settled on the spot. Dick got the option and the deed to the property, and Durwood got ten one-hundred-dollar bills. Both parties to the contract were satisfied. "Now,'' said the boy, after the settlement had been effected, "there was a man down here negotiating with you for this land. Have you his name and address?" "Yes," replied Durwood. "Do y ou want it?" "I'd like to have it." Mr. Durwood produced a card and handed it to Dick. "Now, Mr. Durwood, if this man shows up here tomorrow, or any time soon, and he asks you who bought the property, just give him my card, will you?" "'b 1m.i1 :1nima, \
"Certainly," answered the Sodom reFident. Dick then l eft him and w e nt over lo the estate to to such business as awaited him ther e Next aft.ernoon a very much excited individual called at Mr. Nesbitt s offices and inquired for Richard Arm strong. It was the short, stout man who had done most of the talking at the restaurant. Dick was out, and the man waited till he returned. He was vastly sqrprisecl to find that the Armstrong he wanted was a boy. "Did you purchase an option on Mr. Durwood's property at Sodom yesterday?" he inquired, in a nervous tone. "Yes, sir; I did." "For whom, may I ask?" "For myself." "What?" exclaimed the visitor in amazement. "You secured an option on those thirty acres for yourself?" "Yes, sir." "Do you expect me to believe such a ridiculous story as that?" demanded the stout man, sarcastically. "Come, now, tell me who you represent?" "I have told you. I represent myself. I bought those thirty acres because I foun'd out I could get them at a low price. They'rl:l worth sixteen thousand dollars if they're worth a cent." "Nonsense!" exclaimed the man, impatiently. "What do you mean by that?" asked Dick, coolly. "I mean it is sheer nonsense for you to say that property is worth sixteen thousand dollars." "Well, what do you think it is worth?" my opinion, twelve thousand is nearer its value." "We won't argue the matter. I hold a thirty-day option on the property. Is that all you wished to see me about?" Dick was thoroughly cool and business-like, and the stout man seemed puzzled as to what he would say next. "I'll tell you what," he said, presently. "I was looking at that piece of ground myself ann had some idea of buying it. If you'd like to turn your option over to me, I'll give you five hundred dollars bonus." Dick shook his head. "No. Couldn't think of it." "What will you take for the option?" "Five thousand dollars cash!" "Five thousand furies!" yelled the man, looking at the boy as though he would liked to have eaten him. "No, sir," said Dick, with a faint grin. "Not furies, but dollars." "Young man, what do you take me for?" Dick smiled pleasantly, but made no answer. "I'll give you just two thousand dollars for that option." "I can do better than that," replied the boy, politely. "How cnn you?" asked the stout man, incredulously. "A syndicate has been formed to buy that property for speculative purposes." "What?" gasped the real estate man, staring hard at Dick. buy the land. My business takes me down to Sodom one a week. I knew the Durwood property was in the market, and I have a very clear idea of its value. As soon as I got the tip that speculators were after it, I made up my mind to scoop the ground myself if I could get it low enough. I made Mr. Durwood a cash offer, and we came to an agreement. Mr. Nesbitt will examine the title in a few days and if everything is all right he will close the deal as trustee for me. That's all there is to it." "How did you learn about this syndicate and who are the men that compose it?" asked the stout man, with ill-disguised eagerness. "You will have to excuse me answering those questions, Mr. Blake," replied Dick, looking at the man's card, which he held in his hand. "Then you won't accept an offer of twenty-five hundred for your option?" said the visitor. "No, sir. Any time within the thirty-day limit after Mr. Nesbitt has passed on the title, you or the syndicate or any other person can purchase that option for an ad vance of four thousand dollars over what I paid down." "I will consider the matter, Mr. Armstrong. Good day." A few d:iys later Dick received an offer in writing from Mr. Blake, accepting his figure, contingent on Mr. Nesbitt's assurance that Jonas Durwood could furnish a clear title and that the same would be guaranteed by the Lawyer's Title Guarantee and Trust Company. Dick closed with him on those terms, and a week before the option expired the delighted boy received a certified check for $5,000, and the Blake crowd closed the deal and came into possession of the property. It was not only a red-letter day in Dick's life, but his seventeenth birthday. CHAPTER XVI. A NIGHT ATTA:CK AND A RECOGNITION. Dick also celebrated his seventeenth birthday by taking Jennie Nesbitt to the Empire Theatre to see a famous actress in a favorite play. "She's just splendid don't you think so?" said Jennie as they came out of the playhouse after the show. ''Fine," coincided Dick, enthusiastically. "Do you know, :Miss Jennie, this is the third time in my entire life that I have attended a theatre?" "Is it possible?" she answered in a surprised tone. "That's right. The first week after I came to New York, Joe took me to the New Amsterdam Theatre. That was actually the very first time I 'ever was in a theatre. On the afternoon of Washington's Birthday I went over with Joe to Proctor's Fifth Avenue house. I've lived in the backwood, as they call it, the greater part of my seventeen yearn." "I'm sure no one would think so by your appearance or your manners," said his charming companion. "You are not at all countrified." "Thank yon for the compliment. I have tried to adapt myself to my surroundings. Joe helped to break me in, and I am .sure I am indebted to you for the polish."
I ...... ... r. I ... ..,: LJ 1 --., -"lo.-:-., .l ,.. .,... ""'":' -_ ... ----=-.. ll011 f ""t':ft i;;;ery nwe of you that," she ans wered, with They were : ,;lking through Forty-fir s t Street from a blush. "I am very glad indeed if I have helped you in Broadway to 8ixth A Yeuue lo take the elevated train at any way." the Forly-Keconcl :Street t:lation and had nearly reached the ; ''You have generously introduceu m e into your own corner when a tall, :fine-appearing gentleman turned into sphere of society, and that is a privilege I might otherwise the street from Sixth Avenue and approached them. have viished for in vain. [t gave me a chance to associate Almo s t at the identical moment three figure s rus hed out \\'ith well-bred and educated young person s of my own age, of the doorway of the comer builcling, where they had evi who as a rule have treated me very nicely. It wa s a great uently hidtl e n, and i' pran g upou the gentleman. advantage to me to be under your wing, a s it were, and 1 The attac k was su
"I" it possible?" excl boy with a new and, we ma.1 intense intere st. "Yes, sir; Richard Arm s trong. Let me hand you my card." The gentleman took it mechanically without removing his gaze from the lad s face. "Richard Armstrong!" he repeated, s howing for the first time intense emotion. "Yes, sir; but I see these rascal s are beginning to move. I think we had better get away befor e they recov e r their sen ses." "Yes, do come," urged Jennie Nesbitt, nervorn ; ly "It's a pity thrre isn't a polireman about to take them into custodv," said Dick. 'rhe boy with the blackened face at this point tmned around ancl looked at Dick. He gave a hoarse cry and almost g rov e ll e d at the lad's feet. "Save me Dick Armstrong! 8a w me '' h e cried with a frantic eagerness that was really pitiful. "Don't you know me? I am Luke l\Im;;lin !,. Dick started as though he hacl trod on a live coal. Then he seize d the di sg uised boy by the s houlder anq peered into hi s face He saw he was indeed the s torek eeper's son. CHAPTER XVII. WHAT FINALJ,Y C'O:MES TO THE BOY WHO SUCCEEDED. "Great Scott! Luke Ma slin! Wha t does thi:; mean? You an associate of Tenderl o in thugs! Is it possible yon have go t so low a s this?" cried Di ck, in indi gnant am aze ment. "Sav e me!" almost shrieked SilaR l\Ia slin's son, in a bj ect t error. "'rhey made ml' what I am," an cl h e point e d to the revivin g rm;ca J;i., who wer e n o other than the man and the Walkhill terror, Tim Bunker. "They won t l e t m e go home! 'l'hey make m e do a s they want! Oh, take me away fron:i them!" "You know thia boy?' nskcd th e gentleman who said hi s name \VaR Armstrong, grabb in g Dick by the arm in a sta tl' of a]rnoRt irncontrollab l r agitntion. "YeR, Rir." Did h e not say hi s name waR Ma slin?" "YeR, sir; that i s his name. He i R the son of the m a n with whom I liv ed almost all my liie-Silas Ma s lin, oC Cobham's Corner." "Silas Ma slin!" exclaimed the gen tl e man in great excitem ent. "Did h e not once live at Franconia, N e w Hamp shire?" "That's right. H e cliil," r e pli e d Di ck. "And you arc the boy who at the a ge of five was lef t in hi A care and nev e r was ca lled for?" "Why-why, how did yon know that?" asked Dick, in a . toni s hm ent. "Because I am the man who left yon with Mr. Ma s lin. I am your father George Arm st ron g, and you are the son I ha rn c are heel for for yea rs, but cou lcl gain no trace of. y l the les s a providential meehno. He held out hi s arm;; to Dick, and the lad, though of cou.rse it could not be expected that he had retained any recol le c tion of his parent, in s tinctiv e ly f elt that this man was indeed the father he had long yearnerl to know, but hardly expected to see in this worlcl. \f" eedleFs to say the two embraced right there in tho street to the silent wonder of Jennie Nesbitt ancl younri :Jia lin n e ith e r o f whom quite comprehended the meanin g of it all. Al thii! intc re;;ting juncture Mud gett sat up and stared around him like one r ecovering from an ugly dream, whil e a lmof't at the P.ame mom ent a big policeman came saun around th e corner, s winging hi s club negligently to and fro as _if s u c h a thing a s trouble on hi s beat was very far from hi s thou ghts Luke saw him at once and s t :uted to run, but l\1-r. Arm s tron g blockeil his way. "Don't let him arrest m e! he begged, appealing t o Dic k T ake this card and call upon m e to-morrow and I will see that you get hom e to your people,'' he replied. "Let him go-father." It was the fir st time he had adclresoed Mr. Armstrong by tha t title, and it sounded strange on hi s lipa. The gentleman s tepped aside, and Luke flew up the s treet like a frighte n ed deer. ThiR strange proceeding attracted the officer's attention, and h e got actiYe and alert at once. He approac h e d the g roup at a quick ga it. ''Officer," sair1 1\fr. Armstrong, in a commanding tone, "arrct tl,ese two They assa ulted me with intent to rob I a m sto ppin g at the )I o rmandi e and will ap pear aga imt. th e m in the morning H e r e i s my card.'' "IJ ow about that f e llow running up the str eet?'' a sked the poli cem an s harply. "Neve r mind him. You couldn't overtake him now." "I'll have to ask you to s tep a round with u s to the sta tion," sa id the officer as he j e rked the reviving Tim Bunke r t o hi s feet with one hand and with the other secured a Rtrong grn'p on l\.fudgett's coat collar. "Very w P ll,'' acquie.'ced l\Ir. with no little relnrtanrr. "Come to the. Hote l "N" o rrn a nd ie, my son after yon hav e tn ken the young lady borne." "I will father." Why. Dick!,. exclaimed Jennie, when they were on cl' more alone and headed for the elevated s tation again Please tell me what this means. Is this gentleman really yam father? I thought you told us your father wa s dead." "So I did, and s o I s11ppose d he was," replied the b o y who8c feelings were a mixture of joy and bewilderment over this stran ge and un e.\pecte d cliscover.Y. And on the way to her home, in Seventy-second Stree t h e told her what he had learn e d about hi s pare ntage from the old diary once kept by Silas Ma !in which h e had found in the attic of the storekeeper's hous e at Cobham's Corner. "It was hut a bar e outlin e of one s hort week in my young life' s history," he said in conclusion, "but it gave me the
!-:-:::;;i;_ y -. 0.ol', parentage-.-the secfo Maslins never divulgeu .tor r e a s ons of their own. But I shall soon know all. Yes," cried the boy, tears of wistful eagerness stealing into his fine eyes, "to-night before I sleep I shall know who my mother was-for something tells me she not alive that she died long, long ago, probably about the time my -father carried me to Franconia." .Tennie was much affected and treated him with a sym pathetic gentleness that warmed his heart toward her more llum ever. "You must bring your father to see us, Dick, very soon. H e member, we a:re all interested in you and whatever con cerns you. You will do this, won't you?" she said, laying h e r hand on his arm as they stood at the outside entrance of her home. "Yes," said the boy, with glistening eyes, "I will. He will be glad to know those who have been so kind to me. Do you know," he cried with impetuous suddenness, "I wish you were my sister?" "Do you?" said Jennie, blushing like a rose and suddenly looking down. "Yes, I do." Perhaps he did, but that was because he didn't know any better just then. He thought litter on-but that is another story. However, in the excitement of the moment, and, consider ing what he had just passed through he might we well ex cused, he did a very audacious thing. He actually kissed .Jennie Nesbitt then and there. Then, realizing the enormity of hi s offence, he blurted out a hasty "Good night!" and flew down the stoop, leav ing the lovely little blonde in a state of happy confusion we will not attempt to describe. An hour later Dick was seated with his father in an ele gant room on the third floor of the Hotel Normandie, listening to the story that father had to tell. As Dick had guessed, hi s mother was dead. She had passed away on the eve of a financial panic in Boston which had wrecked his father's business and tem porarily cloucled his name with a suspicion of unfair com mercial methods. Nearly crazed by the loss of his wife, not to mention his business reverses, Mr. Armstrong in the first days of his misery fled to the recesses of New Hampshire, taking his only boy with him. "I was shortly summoned back :from Franconia by a committee of my creditors, with whom I succeeded in mak ing a partial arrangement contingent on the success of certain mining interests I had in the West," said Mr. Arm strong. "I sent Mr. Maslin one hundred dollars to defray your board for a certain length of time, for I could not return to you immediately as it was urgently necessary I should go at once to Colorado. Afterward I sent him other sums from the West for a like purpose. It was five years before I found myself able to return East. While not riqh, I had done very well and my prospects were bright, my '1' . ,;i g been entirely wiped out. Wheh I went to ] I the Maslins had moved away a short time before, leaving no clue to their new address, and from that hour to this day I never obtained a clue, even by the assistance of pa.id detectives, to their new home." "And yet, father, all the time they were living at Cob ham's Corner, on the Erie Canal, and I was living with them, not as a boy whose board had ever been paid, but as a friendless slave of never-ending toil," said Dick, more indignant than ever at unfair treatment he had experi enced at the hands of Silas Maslin and his wife. "The unfeeling rascal!" exclaimed Mr. Armstrong. "But he and I will have a reckoning that will not tend to his advantage." Notwithstanding this new phase of Mr. Maslin's duplic l.ty, Dick did not fail to give Luke, his wayward son, the necessary money to take him home, when that repentant young man called to see him next morning at Mr. N esbitt's offices. Probably the most excited as well as delighted young fellow in New York next day was Joe Fletcher when his stanch friend and chum told him the new s that he had actually found hi s father-now a millionaire min e -own er. "I never was s o glad at anything in my whole life, Dick, old boy," he cried, with a beaming face. And then he stopped, and his countenance suddenly clouded. "Perhaps a seven-dollar-a-week produce clerk i s hardly a fit com panion for the son of the wealthy Mr. Arm s trong. It will break my heart to lose you, Dick, but at least it will be a s ati s faction to know you've reached your proper s tation." "Don't you talk nonsense, Joe," said Dick, grasping his hand with a feeling that could not be mi sta ken. "Chums we've been in adversity, and so shall we r emain in the days when pro s perity has ove rtaken one of us at least. Glad as I am to recover my fath e r, I am proud to say that, without any help from him and but little in a bu s iness seruie from even Mr. Nesbitt, I have succeeded in making my way to the front, even if T am only seve nteen years old." "That's right," agreed Joe, fervently. And there were others who al s o coincided with this opin ion, the Nesbitts, for ins tance, and Jennie more than her parents, for a few years later she gave her hand where she had long since given her heart-to Dick Armstrong, the BOY WHO SUCCE'EDED. THE END. "A CORNER IN CORN; OR, HOW A CHICAGO BOY DID THE TRICK," which will be the next number (3) of "Fame and Fortune Weekly." SPECIAL NOTICE : All back numbers of this weekly are always in print. If you cannot obtain them from any newsdealer, send the price in money or postage stamps by mail to FRANK TOUSEY, PUBLISHER, 24 UNION SQUARE, NEW YORK, and you will receive the copies you order by return mail.
A magazine Containing Stotties, Sketehes, ete., of lestettn hif e. ::S-Y-.A.JXT C>I....:O SCC>"UT. '.32 PAGES. PRICE 5 CENTS. 32 PAGES. EACH. NUMBER IN A HANDSOME COLORED COVER. A ll of these exciting stories are founded on facts. Young Wild West is a hero with whom the a uthor was acquainted. His daring deeds and thrilling adventures have been surpassed. They f o rm the base of the most dashing stories ever published. Read the following numbers of this most interesting magazine and be convinced: LATEST ISSUES : 100 Young Wild West a n d t h e Double Deuce; or, The Domino Gang of 101 Young Wild West on the Prairie; or, The Trail that bad no End. 127 Young Wild West' s Red-Hot Ride; or, Pursued by Comanc hes. 128 Young Wild West aud the Blazed Trail; or, Arietta as a Scout. 129 Yo1g Wild West's li'our of a Kind: or, A Curious Cowbinaiiuu. 130 Young Wild \Vest Caught by the Crooks; or. Arietta on I ln n d 131 Young Wild Wes t and the Ten Terrors; or, The Doom of H ushing Dau. 102 Young Wild West and "Missouri Mike"; or, Wyoming. The Worst Man in 132 Young Wild West's Barrel of "Dust" ; or. Arietta's Chan"" Shot 103 Young Wild West at the Golden Gate: or, A Business Trip to 133 Young Wild West's Triple Claim; or, Simple Sam. th1 ":-lu u dowucr." 'Frisco. 104 Young Wild for Life. 134 West and the Redskin Raiders: or, Arietta' s Leap i:m 136 Young \ \!il d 'Ycst's Curious Compact: or, Ariett a as un A Vt.1ngcr. Young W ild \Ycsts "ampum Belt: or. Unde1 til e nun of tlw I tPs Young \\'ild \Yt's t and the Rio Grande ltustlers: or, T u e n1audlug 105 Young Wild West' s Cowboy Circus; or, Fun at the Mining Camps 106 Young Wild West at Pike's Peak; or, Arletta' s Strange Disap p earance. 107 Young Wild West's Six Shots, and the Change They Made at Dead Man's Mark. 108 Young Wild West at the Little Bic Boru ; or, The Last Stand of the Cavalry. 109 Young Wild West's Big Blulf; or, Playing a Lone Hand. 110 Young Wild West at Bowle Bend; or, T h e Ban of, the Bandit Band. 111 Young Wild West' s Ton of Gold; or, The Accident to Arietta. 112 Young Wild West's Green Corn Dance; or, A Lively Time with the Pawnees. llS Young Wild West a n d the Cowboy King; or, Taming a Texas Terror. 114 Young Wild West's Pocket of Gold; or, Arietta's Great Discovery. 115 Young Wild West and "Shawnee Sam"; or, The Half-Breed's Treachery. 116 Young Wild West's Covere d Trail; or, Arietta and the Avalanche. 117 Young Wild West and the Diamond Dagger; or, The Mexican Girl's Revenge. 118 Young Wild West at Sliver Shine; or, A Town Run by "Tenderfeet." 119 Young Wild West -Surrounded by Sioux; or, Arletta and the Aeronaut. 120 Young Wild West and the "Puzzle of the Camp"; or, The Girl Who Owned the Gulch. 121 Young Wild West and the Mustangers; or, The Boss of the Broncho Busters. 122 Young Wild West after the Apaches; or, Arietta's Arizona Adventure. 123 Young Wild West Routing the Robbers; or, Saving Two Million Dollars. 124 Young Wild West at Rattlesnake Run; or,. A-rietta's Deal with Death. 125 Young Wild West's Winning Streak; or, A Straight Trail to Tombstone. 126 Young Wild West's Lightning Lariat; or, Arletta and the Road Agents. at llu rkhorn Hauch. 137 Young W ild West and the Line LeagnP: or. arietta .\mo11g the Smugglers. 138 Young Wild West's Silver Spurs; or, Fun at Fairplay Fair. 139 Young Wild West Among tile Blac kfe e t ; or, Arietta as a RorC'eress. 140 Young Wild West on the or, '.fhe Secret of tile Hidde n Cave. 141 Young Wild West's Deadly Aim ; or, Arletta' s Greatest Danger. 142 Young Wild West at the Jumping Oil'" Place; or, 'be Worst Camp in the West. 143 Young Wild West and the "Mixed-Up" Mine; or, Arietta a W inner. 144 Young Wild West's Hundred Mile Race; or, Beating a Big Bunch. 145 Young Wild West Daring the Danites; or, Tile Search for a Missing Girl. 146 Young Wild West' s Lively Time; or, The Dandy Duc k of the Diggings. 147 Young Wild West at Hold-U p Canyon; or, Arietta' s Great Victory 148 Young Wild West's Square Deal; or, Making the "Bad" Me n Good. 149 Young Wild West Cowing the Cowboys; or, Arietta and U 1 e Prairie Fire. 150 Young Wild West and Navajo Ned; or, The Hunt for the HalfRreed Ilermit. 151 Young Wild \Vest"s Virgin Vein; or, Arietta and the Cave-in. 152 Young 'wild West' s Cowboy Champions; or, The Trip to Kansas City. 153 Young Wild West's Even Chance; or, Arietta' s Presence of Mind. 154 Young Wild West and the Flattened Bullet; or, The Man W h o W ould not Drop. 155 Young Wild West' s Gold Game; or, Arietta's Full Hand. 156 Young Wild West' s Cowboy Scrimmage; or, Cooki n g a Crowd t Crooks. 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ything! l l-. book ronsists of sixty-fou!;. pages, printed on good paper, .in clear type and neatly bo_und a1;1 rover. Most of th e books are profusely 1llustrnted, and all of the subJects treated upon are explarned m such a simple manner that any <'hihl. can thoroughly understand them. Look over the list as classified and see if you want to know anything about the subjeds ment10ned. THESE BOOKS ARE FOR SALFJ BY ALL NEWSDEALEilS OR WILL BE SENT BY MAIL TO ANY ADDRESS FROM '!'HIS OFFICE ON IlECEIP'l' 0F' PRICE, TEN CEN'l'S EACH, OR ANY THREE BOOKS jj"'OR 'l'WEN'l'Y-FIVE CENTS. POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS MONEY. Address FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, N.Y. MESMERISM. No. 81. HOW TO MES.MERIZE.-Containing the most ap proved 1 methods of mesmerism ; als o how to cure all kinds of diseases by animal magn e tism or, magn e ti c healing. By Prof. Leo Hugo Ko c h, A. U. S., author of How to Hypnotize," etc. PALMISTRY. No. 82. IIOW TO DO PALMIS'l'RY.-Containing the most ap prov e d methods of reading the lines on the band, together with a full explanation of their meaning Also explaining phrenology and th e k ey for t e lling character by the bumps 011 the head. By Leo liugo Ko c h, A. C. S. Fully illustrated. HYPNOTISM. No. 83. HOW TO HYPNO'l'IZE.-Containing valuable and in structiv e information regarding the s c ien ce of hypnotism Also explaining the mos t approved methotls whic h are emplo ye d by the leading hypnotists of the world. By Leo Hugo Koch, A.C.S. SPORTING. No. 21. HOW TO HUNT AND FISH.-The m1>St complete hunting and fishing guide ever publish e d It contains full in structions ab out gt1ns, bunting dog s, traps, trapping and fishing together with d e s c riptions of game irnd fish. N o :.!tl. HOW TO ROW, SAIL A N D BUILD A BOAT.-Fully illu strated. Every boy s hould kn o w how to r o w and sail a boat. Full in struc tions are giv e n in this littl e book together with in struc ti o ns on s wimming and r i d i ng, co m pa n io n spo r t s t o boat i ng No '17. HOW '1'0 BREAK, RIDE A N D DRIYE A HORSE. A compl et e treatise on the horse. Describin g the mo s t useful hors e s for busin e ss the bes t hors e s for the r oa d ; als o valu a ble recipes for diseases pe c llliar to the h o r se. No 48 HOW '1' 0 BUILD A N D SAIL CANOES.-A bandy book for boy s conta i ning full d i rections for constructing canoes and the mo s t popular manne r of sailing them Fully illustrated. By O Stansfield Hic ks FORTUNE TELLING. No. 1. NAPOLEON' S ORACULW.l A N D DREAM BOOK. Containing the great orac le of hum a n d estiny ; also the true mean ing of almost any kind of dreams t o geth e r with charms, ce remoni es, and curious g a mes of cards. A c ompl e t e book No. 23 HOW 'l'O EXPLAfN DREAMS.-Everybody dreams from the little child to the ag e d man and w o man 'l' his l ittle book giv e s the explanation to all k i nd s o f dre am s, togeth e r with lu c ky unlucky Ja;;s. and ''Napole on s Orar nlurn," the book of fate. No. 28 HO\v TO TELL FORTUNE8.-Evel"yon e i s de sirous of knowing what his future life will bring forth, wh e th e r happiness or misery, wealth or pov erty. Y o u can t ell b y a g l a n c e a t thi s l ittle book. Buy one and be convin c ed T e ll your o w n fortune. 'l'ell the fortune of your friends No. 76. HOW TO 'l'ELL FORTUNES BY THE HAND. Containing rule s for telling fortunes by the a id of lin es of th e hand, or the s e cret of palmi stry. Al so the sec r e t o f t e lling future events by aid of moles, marks, scars, etc Illustrated. By A. And e r s on. ATHLETIC. No. 6. HOW TO BECOME AN ATHLETE.-Giving full in struc tion for the use of dumb b e lls, Indian c lubs, paralle l bars, horizontal bs:rs and various othe r m e thods of d e v e l o ping a good, healthy muscle; containing ov e r sixty illu strations Eve ry boy can become strong anJ healthy by following the instructions contained in this little book. No. 10. HOW TO BOX.-The art of self-defense made easy Containing over thirty illustrations of guards, blows, and the dilfer ent positions of a good boxer. Every boy should obtain one of these useful and instructive books, as it will teach you how to box without an instructor. No. 25. HOW TO BECOME .A. GYMNAST.-Containing full instructions for all kinds of gymnastic sports and athletic exercises. Embracing thirty-five illustrations. By Professor W. Macdonald. A handy and useful book. No. 34. HOW ro FENCE.-Containing full instruction for fencing and the use of the broadsword; also instruction in archery. Described with twenty-one practical illustrations, giving the best positions in fencing. A complete book. TRICKS WITH CARDS. No. 51. HOW TO DO TRICKS WITH CARDS.-Containing explanations of t'he general principles of sleight-of-hand applicable to card tricks; of card tricks with ordinary cards, and not requiring sleight-of-hand; of tricks involving sl e ight-of-hand, or the use of 1Pecially prepared cards. By Professor Haffner. Illustratera cing th1rty -s1x 11lus trat1ons. By A Anderso n No. 'i8 TO DO THE .BLACK ART. -Contain!1;1g a com pl ete d escr1 pt1on o f the myste ries o f Magi c antl Sleight of Hand t ogethe r with many wonderful experiments. By A Anderson'. Illustrated. MECHANICAL. No. 29. HOW TO BECOME AN INVENTOR-Every boy should kn ow how in ventions o riafoated This book explains them all, in h y draulics, magnetism, optiCl3, pneumat.1 cs, me c h a nie s, etc. Lhe most lnstl'Uc tive bo o k publi s h e d No. 5G. HOW TO BECOME AN ENGINEER.-Qontaining full ir;istru c t1ons b o w to pro ce ed in ord e r to become a l oc omotive en gmeer; al s o direc tions for builtl i n g a model lo c omotive tog ether wi t h a full desc ription of ev e r ything a n engin ee r should know. No._ 5 'i. HOW 'I O l\IAKE M USICAL INSTRUMENTS.-Full direction s 110w to make a Banjo, Violin Zith e r 1Eo lian Harp Xylo phone and othe r musi ral instruments ; togeth e r wi t h a brlef de sc ripti o n o f n ea rl y ev e r y mu s iC'al in strument us e d In anc i ent or mod ern t i m es Profuse l y ;11ustrated B y Alg erno n S F i tzgerald, for tw e n ty y ears ba n dma s t e r of the H oya l B enga l Marines. No. HOW TO MAKE A MAGIC ... a d escriptio n of tbe lantern, t ogether with its history and invention. Als o full directi ons f Q r its u se and for painting slides. Handsomely illustrate d. By All e n No. 71. HOW TO DO MECIIANICAL TilICKS.-Containing compl ete instruc tions for p erforming over sixty Mechanical Tric ks. By A. Anrlerson. J<' ully illus trated. LETTER WRITING. No. 11. HOW TO WRITE LOVE-LETTERS.-A most com plete little book, containing full directions for writing love-letters, and when to u se the m, givin g specim e n l ette r s for young and old No. 12. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS '1'0 LADIES.-Giving complete instructions for wri t ing l etters to ladies on all subje cts; also letters of introduction notes and requ ests No. 24 HOW TO WRITE LETTERS TO GENTLEMEN. Containing full directions for writ ing to gentlemen on all subjects; also giving sample letters for ins truc tion. No. 53. HOW TO WRITE LE'FfERS.-A wonderful little book, telling you how to write to your sweetheart, your father, mother, siste r, brother, employ er; and, in fact, everybody and any body you wish to write to. Every y oung man and every young lady in the land s'honld havl' this book. No. 74 HOW TO WRITE LETTEilS CORRECTLY.-Con taining full instructions for writing letters on almost any subject; al so rule s for punctuation and composition, with specimen letters.
T No. 41. THE BOYS 0 BOOK.-Containing a gred r s JO es use by the mW TO BECOME AN ACTOR.-Containing com plete 10struct1ons how to make up for various characters on the s,tage.; with the duties of the Stage Manager, Prompter, Scemc Artist.and Property Man. B.v a prominent Stage Manager. N!' 80. GUS WII,LIAl\IS' .TOKE BOOK.-Containing the lat est Jokes, anecdotes and funny stories of this world renowned and ever popular Oerman comedian. Rixty-four pages: handsome colored cover containing a half-tone photo of the author. HOUSEKEEPING. peake, a.II the popular !J.Uthors of p ose a poetry, simple and concise manner possible. No. 49. !=JOW TO DEBA'.rE.-Giving rules for conducting de bates, outlines for debates, questions for discussion and the best sources for procuring information on the questions g1iv en. SOCIETY. No. 3. TO arts and wiles of flirtation are fully expltuned by this httle book. Besides the various methods of ha.r.dkerchief fan. glove, parasol, window and hat -flirtation, it co n a full hst of the language and sentiment of flowers, which is 10_terest1ng to everybody, both old and young. You cannot be happy without one. No. 4. H .OW .TO DANqE is tbe title of a new and handsome h_ttle _book Just issued py Frank Tousey. It contains full instructions m the art of dauc1_ng, i:tiquette in ball;room and 11t parties, how to dress, and full d1rect10ns for calling off 10 all popular square dances. No. HOW T<;> LOVJ!l.-A <'?mplete guide to love, courli;h1p and ma:nage, g1vmg sensible advice, rules and etiquette to be obsened, with many curious and interesting things not gen erally known. No. 17. .ro full instruction in the art d1ess1ng and appearmg well at home and abroad. giving the selechons of <'olors, material. and how to have them made up. No. 18. HOW TO BECOME BEAUTIFUL.-One of the brightest and_ most valuable little books ever given to the world. J]Jverybody wishes to know how to become beautiful, both male and female. The secret is simple, and almost costles s. Read this book and be convinced how to become beautiful. NC!. 16. H9W TO KEEP A, WIND.OW GARDEN.-Containing full 10struct1ons fo1 constructmg a wmdow garden either in town or country, and the most approved methods for raising beautiful flowers at home. The most complete book of the kind ever published. BIRDS No. 30. HOW TO COOK.-One of the most instrudive books AND ANIMALS. on cooking ever published. It. contains. recipes for cooking meats, No. 7. HOW TO KEEP BIRDS.-Handsomely illustrated and fish, game. and oysters; also pies, puddmgs, cakes and all kinds of containing full instructions for the management and training of the pastry, and a gtand collection of recipes by one of our most popular canary. mockingbird, bobolink. blackbird, paroquet. parrot, etc. cooks. No. 39. HOW TO RAISE DOGS, PO LTRY. PIGEONS AND No. 37. HOW TO KEEP HOUSE.-lt contains information for RABBITS.-A useful and instructive book. Handsomely illusb d b J d trated. By Ira Drofraw. ever y 0 y, oys, gir 8 men an women; it will teach you how to No. 40. HOW TO MAKE AND SET TRAPS.-Includ1"ng h1"nts make almost auything around the house, such as parlor ornaments brackets, cements, Aeolian harps, and bird lime for catching birds . on how to catch moles, weasels, otter, rats, squirrels and birds. Also how to cure skins. Copiously illustrated. By J. Harrington ELECTRICAL. Keene. No. 46. HOW TO MAKE AND USE ELECTRICITY.-A: deNo. 50. HOW TO STUFF BIRDS AND ANll\IALS.-A scription of the wonderful uses of electricity and electro magnetism valuable book, giving instructions in collect ing, preparing, mounting together with full instructions for making Electric Toys, Batteries: and preserving birds, animals and insects. etc. By George Trebel, A. l\I., l\I. D. Containing over fifty iiNo .. 54. TO KEEP AND MANAGE PETS.-Giving com Justrations. as to the m_anner an_d method of raising, keeping, No. 64. HOW TO MAKE ELECTRICAL l\IACHINES.-Con.breedmg, an_d managmg all kmds of P!Jts; also giving full ta!ning full Jirections for making e lectrical machines, induction !nstruct1.ons for cages, etc. Fully explamed by twenty-eight coils, dynamos. and many novel toys to be worked by electricity. tllustrat1ons, makmg it the most complete book of the kind ever By R. A. R. Bennett. Fully illustrated. published. No. 67. HOW TO DO ELECTRICAL TRICKS.-Containing a large collection of instructive and highly amusing electrical tricks, No. 8. HOW TO BECOME A SCIENTIST.-:!. useful and in together with illustrations. By A. Anderson. structive book, giving a complete on chemistry; also exENTERTAl NM ENT. iu aco!lstics mechanics, tnathematics, chemistry, and directions for makmg fireworks, colored fires, and gas balloons. Thi1 No. 9. HOW TO BECOME A VENTRILOQUIST.-By Harry book cannot be equaled. Kennedy. The secret given away. Every boy reading No. 14. HOW TO MAKE CANDY.-A complete hand-book for this book of instructions, by a practi cal professor (delighting multimaking.all kinds of candy, etc. tudes every night with his wonderful imitations), can master the No. HOW TO BECOME Al'll' AUTHOR.-Containing full art, and create any amount of fun for himself and friends. It is the information regarding choice of subjects, the use of words and the greatest book published. and there's millions (of fun) in it. manner of preparing and submitting manuscript. Also containing No. 20. HOW TO ENTERTAIN AN EVENING PAR1'Y.-A valuable information as to the neatness, legibility and general com very valuable little book just published. A complete co mpendium position of manuscript, essential to a successful author. By Prince of sports, card diversiops, comic recitations, etc., suitable Hiland. . for parlor or drawing-room entertainment. It contains more for the No. 38. HOW TO BECOME YOUR OWN DOOTOR.-A won money than any book published. derful book, containing useful and practical information in the No. 35. HOW TO PLAY GAMES.-A complete and useful little treatment of ordinary diseases and ailments common to every book, containing the rules and regulations of billiards, bagatelle, family. Abounding in useful and effective recipes for general combackgammon croquet. dominoes, etc. plaints. No. 36. HOW TO SOLVE CONUNDRUl\IS.-Containing all No. 55. HOW TO COLLECT STAMPS AND COINS.-Conthe leading conundrums of the day, amusing riddl es, curious catches taining valuable information regarding the co llecting and arranging and witty sayings. of stamps and coins. Handsomely illustrated. No. 52. HOW TO PLAY CARDS.-A complete and handy little No. 58. HOW TO BE A DETECTIVE.-By Old King Brady, book, giving the rules and full directions for playing Euchre, Cribthe world-known dete ctive. In which he lays down some valuable bage Casino, Fort:vFive, Rounce, Pedro Sancho, Draw Poker, and sensible rules for beginners, and also relates some adventures Auction Pitch. All Fours, and many other popular games of cards. and experiences of well-known d etectives. No. 66. HOW TO DO PUZZLES.-Containing over three hunNo. 60. HOW TO BECOME A PHOTOGRAPHER.-Containdred interesting puzzles and conundrums, with key to same. A ing us efu l information regarding the Camera and how to work it; complete book. Fully illustrated. By A. Anderson. also how to make Photographic Magic Lantern Slides and other ETIQUETTE. No. 13. HOW TO DO IT; OR, BOOK OF ETIQUETTE.-It is a great life secret, and, one that every young man desires to know all about. There's happiness in it. No. 33. HOW 1'0 BEJRAVEJ.-Containing the rules and etiquette of good society and the easiest and most approved methods of appearing to good advantage at parties. balls, the theatre, church, and in the drawing-roorq. DECLAMATION. . No. 27. HOW TO RECITE AND BOOK OF RECITATIONS. -Containing the most popular selei::tions in use, com-prising Dutch dialect, French dialect, Yankee and Irish dialect pieces, together with many standard readings. Transparencies. Handsomely illustrated. By Captain W. De W. Abney. No. 62. HOW TO BECOl\IE A WEST POINT MILITARY CADET.-Containing full explanations how to gain admittance, cou rse of Study, Examinations, Duties, Staff of Officers, Post Guard, Police Regulations, Fire Department, and all a boy should know to be a Cadet. Ccmpiled !Uld written by Lu Senarens, author of "How to Become a Naval Cadet." No. 63. HOW TO BECOME A NAVAL CADET.-Complete in structions of how to gain admission to the Annapolis Naval Academy. Also containing the course of instruction, desoription of grounds and buildings, historical sketch. and everything a boy should know to be<'ome an officer in the United States Navy. Com piled and written PY Lu Senarens, author of "How to Become a West Point Military Cadet." 1 PRICE 10 CENTS-EACH, OR 3 ,FOR 25 CENTS. TOUSEY, Publisher, 24: Union Square, New York.
"" 4-= -. :::x:: . . . ;;. ',. .: ., / J 11 K L y e-,Gooti of Young Atnletes . .. .... l-(Formerly "THE YOUNG ATHLETE'S WEEKLY> BY "PHYSICAL DIRECTOR" A J2=PAGE BOOK FOR 5 CENTS Issued Every Friday .. Handsome Colored Covers These intensely interesting stories describe the adventures of Frank Manley, a plucky young athlete, who tries to ex cel in all kinds of games and pastimes. Each number contains a story of manly sports, replete with lively incidents, dramatic situations and a sparkle of humor. Every popular game will be featured in the succeeding stories, such as base ball, skating, wrestling, etc. Not only are these stories the very best, but they. teach you how to become strong and healthy. You can learn to become a trained athlete by reading the valuable information on physical culture they contain. From time to time the \vonderful Japanese methods of self-protection, called Jiu-Jitsu, will be explained. A page is devoted to advice on healthy exercises, and questions on athletic subjects are cheerfully answer-ad by the author "PHYSICAL DIRECTOR." .,.
eekly STORIES OF BOYS WHO MAKE MONEY By A SELF-MADE MAN 32 Pages of Reading Matter Handsome Colored Covers PRICE 5 CENTS A COPY --.; A New One Issued Every Friday --.; This weekly contain interesting stories of s1u:nt boys, who win fame and fortune by their (.lbility to take advantage of passing epportunitie:s. Some of these tol'ies are founded on itue incidents i n the lives of our most successful self-made men, and show how a boy of pluck, perstwerance an