A DETERMINED STAND.
“Nevertheless, I’m going to turn it down,” Carroll declared firmly. “I
won’t hear of your doing this thing, I’m not going to have it on my
conscience that I was the cause of your being sent to jail. It’s no use
arguing with me, old man; I positively refuse to let you run this risk
on my account.”
“Very well,” said the Camera Chap quietly. “Of course, I have no desire
to press my services on you if you don’t want them. But I shall go ahead
with this camera campaign, just the same. The pictures will make an
interesting addition to my scrapbook.”
“You crazy Indian! Surely you don’t mean that?”
“I certainly do. If you think I’m going to miss all this fun just
because you won’t give me a job on your paper, you’re very much
mistaken. Of course, I should greatly prefer to have the snapshots
published in the _Bulletin_. I really think that they’ll be worth
publishing. But since you can’t see it that way, I suppose I’ll have to
be satisfied with adding them to my private collection.”
Carroll glanced searchingly at his friend’s face and was convinced of
his earnestness. Then, with a laugh, he extended his big hand.
“You win, old fellow,” he said. “Since you’re determined to go ahead
anyway, I’d be all kinds of a fool if I were to fail to take advantage
of this opportunity. The chances are about a million to one that you’ll
be nabbed and thrown into jail on your first attempt; but if by a
miracle you should succeed in getting any pictures, I’ll be tickled to
death to use them in the _Bulletin_.”
“Good boy!” exclaimed Hawley joyously. “That’ll be much more
satisfactory to me than pasting them in my scrapbook. And now that I’m a
full-fledged member of your staff, Fred--beg pardon; I should say
boss--have you any instructions for me? Any particular picture
assignment you wish me to go out and cover?”
“Oh, no; I shall not give you any assignments. I’ll leave it entirely to
you to select your own subjects. Anything will do. No matter what the
snapshots may be--even if it’s only a picture of an electric-light
pole--the extraordinary circumstances will make it of sufficient value
to be worth a place on our front page.”
“Very good,” said Hawley; “I am inclined to agree with you that it will
be the best policy to give me a free hand. But I assure you,” he added,
with a chuckle, “I have no intention of snapshotting such uninteresting
subjects as electric-light poles. The kind of pictures I intend to go
after will have a little more life to them than that. In fact, I have an
idea now for a group of snapshots which I think would be of great
interest to the _Bulletin’s_ readers. If I can put it across, I think it
will make even more of a hit than those pictures of the sleeping police
chief.”
“What’s the idea?” Carroll inquired, with a little more eagerness than
he was desirous of manifesting.
The Camera Chap drew his chair nearer, and lowered his voice almost to a
whisper: “Do you remember, Fred, that stunt the _Sentinel_ pulled off
several years ago, when we were roasting the New York police department?
I mean those automobiles filled with reporters which the _Sentinel_ sent
out one night to tour the entire city and count the number of cops who
were loafing instead of patrolling their beats?”
“Do I remember it!” exclaimed Carroll, with a reminiscent chuckle. “I
should say I do! It was just after I joined the _Sentinel_ staff. I was
one of the reporters assigned to the story. I shall never forget that
automobile ride. We rode a hundred blocks, and in all that distance only
encountered one policeman who was conscientiously attending to business.
The exposé the _Sentinel_ published the next day created a whopping big
scandal, and resulted in the biggest shake-up in the history of the New
York police department.”
“That’s right,” said Hawley. “Well, what’s the matter, Fred, with
pulling off something on those lines right here in Oldham? I’ve got a
hunch that this city isn’t being patrolled any too well during the night
hours. With a lazy, incompetent fathead like Hodgins at the head of the
force, it’s a pretty safe guess that there isn’t much discipline among
the rank and file. A tour of the city by night probably would reveal
some interesting facts about the Oldham police department.”
Carroll nodded vigorously. “You bet it would. You are quite right in
supposing that the cops of this burg are a pretty punk lot. The great
majority of them got their appointments to the force by political pull,
and--well, as you can readily imagine, they’re not by any means the best
material that could have been found for the job. Yes, your suggestion is
a mighty good one, Hawley, old man. I deserve to be kicked for not
having thought of it myself long ago. An exposé of that sort ought to
sell a lot of _Bulletins_.”
“Sure it would!” declared the Camera Chap enthusiastically. “I’m glad
you approve. Thought you’d look at it in that light. Guess there’s no
sense in wasting any time,” he added. “I might as well get busy this
very night.”
The proprietor of the _Bulletin_ looked at him in astonishment. “You get
busy? Why, what is there for you to do, old man! This’ll be a reporter’s
task. Pictures, of course, will be quite out of the question.”
“Oh, will they, though?” chuckled Hawley. “I don’t agree with you there.
The pictures will be the main feature of this exposé. Of course, we’ll
have a story, too--a couple of columns or so of reading matter to go
with the snapshots--but, with all modesty, I think I can say that it
will be my camera which will give the people of Oldham the most graphic
idea of what the police force is doing while the town slumbers.”
“Nonsense!” Carroll expostulated. “This will be at night. How can you
take pictures----”
“How can I?” Hawley interrupted. “What a peculiar question! Surely, my
dear Fred, you must be forgetting all about the existence of a certain
compound called magnesium powder.”
“What!” cried Carroll, almost rising in his chair. “Man alive! You don’t
mean to say you’d be insane enough to attempt to take snapshots on the
streets of Oldham by flash light?”
The Camera Chap grinned at his friend’s display of horrified amazement.
“Oh, yes, I’ll have to use that flash-light powder, of course,” he
answered. “I don’t know of any other way of taking pictures at night;
and we positively must have those snapshots.”
TO BE CONTINUED.
HOW HE PAID HIS PASSAGE.
W. BERT FOSTER.
“Come, now, hustle out o’ here!”
“I ain’t doin’ any harm.”
“You git out, I say, an’ don’t ye talk back to me!”
“Please, mister----”
“Git!”
Big Bill Bronson, the dock watchman, raised his heavy hand
threateningly, and the forlorn little chap, whom he had addressed in
such rough tones, climbed painfully out of the box of straw in which he
had taken refuge, as he hoped, for the night.
“We don’t want no young wharf rats like you round here,” Big Bill
declared. “So, git along with you!”
It was still early in the evening. Perhaps if Terry Carson had waited
until it had grown darker he might have ensconced himself in the box
unobserved, and spent the night in comparative comfort. But he had been
so tired that he had risked seeking his “lodging” early, with the above
result.
For days he had tramped the streets of the seaport town, looking for a
job. But nobody seemed to want him, or his services. The past fortnight
had been a terrible experience to young Terry.
“I warn’t goin’ for to do any harm, sir,” he said, having gotten out of
the box of straw.
“I dunno whether you was or not,” growled Bill. “There’s too many of the
like o’ you ’round. Come, move on, or I’ll hand ye over to the cop!”
At this threat, Terry had to give up all hope of his lodging, and moved
painfully away.
“I just hate this town!” he muttered. “There ain’t no place in it for
me. I wish I could get away from it, so I do.”
His eyes wandered across the broad docks to the shipping
beyond--tall-masted, deep-sea vessels all.
“I wish I could get aboard one o’ them boats an’ just sail away from
this mean old place.”
It was not too dark yet to reveal the decks pretty clearly. The fading
light revealed Terry’s sturdy figure, too. He was a strong, well-built
chap of fifteen.
“Jiminy crickets! I b’lieve I’ll try it!” he muttered, after an
instant’s silent scrutiny of the individual on the quarter of the
nearest craft; and then, despite the fact that big Bill, the watchman,
shouted after him, he turned away from the great gate, which was the
only entrance by land to the dock, and marched up the narrow gangplank
to the vessel’s deck.
Captain Josh Carlton, who was pacing the deck with a huge cigar between
his teeth, suddenly became conscious of the presence of somebody beside
himself upon the quarter, by a shrill voice, which piped out:
“Mister, I say!”
“Who the dickens are you?” demanded the captain in surprise, gazing down
upon young Terry from his height of six foot four.
“Terrence Carson.”
“Well, you little sawed-off, what d’ye want here?”
Terry drew himself up to his full height. His “stubbedness” was the
tender point.
“I want to ship,” he declared.
“You want to ship! Haw, haw, haw!”
Captain Carlton fairly shook with laughter.
“Why, your head hardly reaches the rail,” he said, taking the boy by the
arm and twisting him about with his face to the shore. “Now, sonny,
that’s the way ashore. You git!”
Poor Terry, urged by the captain’s vigorous shove, walked slowly back to
the wharf, and thence to the street. Once outside the gate, he stamped
his ill-shod foot determinedly upon the rough pavement.
“I just will do it!” he declared. “They can’t keep me off their old
vessel, however hard they try. I’m going to sea in the _Calypso_, I am!”
Thus it happened that, half an hour later, when Captain Carlton left the
_Calypso_ and went uptown to look over the men whom the shipping agent
had gotten together for him, leaving the vessel in sole charge of the
steward, a ragged figure, sneaking along beside the piled-up cases on
the dock, darted across the gangplank and onto the _Calypso’s_ deck.
Neither the steward nor Bill Bronson, the burly dock watchman, saw him,
for they were conversing very earnestly together forward. Terry was
totally unfamiliar with a ship, having always lived back in the country;
so he made the mistake of entering the cabin for concealment.
It was a nicely furnished apartment, for Captain Carlton was quite a
fastidious man, and at one end a heavy curtain hung before a small
lavatory. Behind this curtain Terry darted. He had heard Bill say that
the _Calypso_ would sail early the next morning, and he believed that
once the vessel got out of the harbor, she would not be put about for
the sake of landing him again.
Hardly had he ensconced himself behind this drapery, when he detected
the sound of a footstep softly descending the companion stairs. A moment
later, the steward, a low-browed, snaky-looking Italian, appeared. It
struck Terry at once that the man’s manner seemed odd. He appeared to be
fearful of the presence of some unknown person, and glanced
apprehensively around him as he stepped into the center of the room
under the swinging lamp.
And what followed made the boy’s suspicions a surety. The Italian had
not entered the cabin during the absence of the captain and officers for
any legitimate purpose.
Assuring himself, as he supposed, that he was unobserved, the steward
crept softly from door to door, and, opening each, peered into the
several staterooms for the purpose of seeing if any were by chance
occupied. Confident that this was not the case, he went back to the foot
of the companionway and whistled shrilly.
Evidently this was a signal, for at once a heavy step crossed the deck
and descended to the cabin. Terry, round-eyed with bewilderment at these
proceedings, peered out from behind the curtains and discovered that the
newcomer was none other than the watchman, Bill Bronson.
“Eet ees alla quiet, Bill,” the steward declared, reassuringly, as big
Bill glanced suspiciously about. “Not a soula here. We ees alla right.”
Bill growled in reply, and stepped at once to the center of the room,
shoving aside a heavy chart table which stood there. Beneath the table
was a square of matting which seemed but lightly tacked down, for with
one twitch the watchman ripped it off the floor, revealing a trapdoor
beneath.
“Dere she ees, Bill,” exclaimed the Italian exultantly.
He stooped and raised the trap hastily. The burly watchman squeezed
himself into the hole with much grunting and profanity, and, having
gotten his head below the level of the floor, began at once to hand out
packages, each wrapped carefully in black enamel cloth.
“Work quick, Tonio. No tellin’ when them fellers’ll git back. The boat’s
right under the quarter.”
The steward’s reply was to gather several packages in his arms and
hastily ascend to the deck.
Terry, meanwhile, had been doing what he called “some tall thinking.” He
knew that something remarkably shady was in progress. He could not guess
what was in the packages, but that it was something valuable he did not
doubt. The treacherous steward and watchman were robbing the _Calypso’s_
commander, or her owners.
Quick as a flash, when Antonio had disappeared, Terry darted out from
behind the curtain and slammed down the trapdoor, shooting the strong
bolt at once into place, thus securing the trap firmly. Big Bill was a
prisoner.
The muffled sounds of the watchman’s voice could not reach the deck, but
Terry reached it almost at a single bound. Antonio’s figure was faintly
visible as he leaned over the rail, tugging at the painter of the small
boat, which had become fouled. The packages had been laid on the deck
while he was thus engaged.
Terry’s mind worked quickly, and the moment his feet touched the deck he
saw his chance for overcoming the second river pirate. He lowered his
head and charged across the deck like a bolt from a cannon.
His head caught Antonio just below the waistband, and, although the
shock well-nigh dislocated his neck and sent him flat upon the deck, it
also drove the light body of the astonished steward flying overboard,
where he landed, frog fashion, in the dirty dock water.
He might have come back and easily overpowered the boy and released his
companion, but Antonio didn’t know that. Never for an instant doubting
that the gigantic Captain Carlton had returned unexpectedly and kicked
him overboard, the steward swam hastily to a neighboring pier and made
good his escape.
Not so big Bill, however. Captain Carlton and his two officers found
him, almost suffocated, in the secret compartment, while a greatly
demoralized boy stood guard above with a boathook almost as heavy as
himself.
When Bill had been pulled out of his prison and marched off under a
guard of two blue-coated policemen to a much safer place of durance,
Captain Carlton turned to young Terry.
“Well, Shorty,” he said jovially, placing his big hands upon the boy’s
shoulders, “so you’re the lad who wanted to ship as an A. B., eh? Got
over it?”
“No, sir. I came down here intending to hide away till after you had
sailed. I want to get away from this town, so I do.”
“And you shall. You’ve saved the owners a pretty penny,” he added,
touching the packages strewn about the floor, with his foot; “and I
reckon they won’t begrudge you your passage. I guess he’s paid his fare,
sure enough, ain’t he, boys?”
And the two inferior officers agreed warmly. However, before that first
trip was over, Terry had made himself so useful to the _Calypso’s_
commander, that he made many more on the same vessel. In fact, he is
still with the good ship, and is probably one of the youngest second
mates sailing out of the port of Rivermouth.
WHAT PUNISHMENT BY THE KNOUT MEANS.
We read of crimes and cruelties perpetrated in days long, long gone by,
and, with a pitying sigh for the wretched sufferers, we thank Heaven
that the blessed light of civilization illuminates the nineteenth
century. We do not realize that a government, so-called Christian, even
to this day, can wantonly cause such heart-rending sufferings as Russia
metes out to Poland.
To be exempt from corporal chastisement is one of the privileges of a
Russian nobleman; yet this does not prevent the torture being applied to
Polish political prisoners even when they are of noble blood.
The subject, albeit a sad one, is not without a certain interest,
particularly when we recall the memory of brave men and braver women who
have yielded up a weary life while undergoing this, the most cruel of
tortures--the knout.
The knout is a strip of hide, a thing which is steeped in some
preparation, and strongly glazed, as it were, with metal filings. By
this process it becomes both heavy and excessively hard; but before it
hardens care is taken to double down the edges, which are left thin, and
in this way a groove runs the length of the thong.
The upper part winds around the hand of the executioner; to the other
end a small iron hook is fastened. Falling upon the bare back of the
sufferer, the knout comes down on its concave side, of which the edges
cut like a knife. The thing thus lies in the flesh.
The executioner does not lift it up, but draws it toward him
horizontally, so that the hook tears off long strips. If the executioner
has not been bribed, the victim loses consciousness after the third
stroke, and sometimes dies under the fifth.
The scaffold is an inclined plane, to which the man is tied with his
back uncovered. The head and feet are firmly fastened, and the hands,
which are knotted together, go round below the plank, any movement of
the body becoming impossible.
After receiving the prescribed number of strokes, the poor wretch is
untied, and, on his knees, undergoes the cruel punishment of being
marked. The letters “Vor”--meaning thief or malefactor--are printed in
sharp, pointed letters on a stamp, which the executioner drives into the
forehead, and into both cheeks, and, while the blood runs, a black
mixture, of which gunpowder is an ingredient, is rubbed into the wounds;
they heal, but the bluish scar remains for life.
QUICK THINKING.
An adventure is related by a sportsman which shows that a hunter’s life
may depend upon his attention to small details. With one of his friends,
he was out shooting, when a solitary bull buffalo appeared on the
opposite side of a small stream. The bull was evidently in a state of
great excitement, for, as the hunters drew near, he faced them, tore up
the turf with his horns, and looked down the perpendicular bank, twelve
feet high, as though meditating descent.
The sportsman’s friend, who carried a little rifle--a single barrel,
which shot a small, spherical ball--had, by the other’s advice, doubled
his charge of powder.
“Aim at the back of the neck if the buffalo lowers his head,” said the
sportsman to his companion, throwing a hard clod of earth so that it
fell into the water at the foot of the bank. The splash caused the
animal to look down, exposing his neck. The friend fired. The bull
convulsively turned round and fell upon his side. The two men waded
across the stream at a shallow place, and ran to where the prostrate
animal was lying, apparently dead. The marksman, standing in front of
the bull’s head, reveled in the delight of his first buffalo.
“Never stand at the head of a buffalo, whether dead or alive,” exclaimed
the other, whose experience had taught him to be cautious. “Stand upon
the side, facing the back of the animal, well away from its legs, as I
am standing now.”
Scarcely had he uttered the words, when the bull sprang to his feet, and
blundered forward straight at his astonished friend, not three feet
distant. He jumped forward to avoid the horns, but tripped and fell upon
his back, right in the path of the savage bull.
As quick as lightning, the sportsman drew his long hunting knife, and
plunged it behind the buffalo’s shoulder. The animal fell at the blow.
He had received his death stroke.
MISUNDERSTOOD.
While a certain lady was feeding a hungry tramp the other day, she
discovered that he was pocketing her silverware.
Seizing a poker, she exclaimed:
“Drop those spoons, you scoundrel, and leave the house; leave it
instantly!”
“But, madame----”
“Leave the house, I say! Leave the house!” screamed the infuriated
woman.
“I go, madame,” said the tramp, “never to return; but before I do, I
would like to say that I did not intend to take your house.”
* * * * *
THE NEWS OF ALL NATIONS.
Sale of Letters is Stopped.
The sale of more than eight hundred autograph letters, valued at twelve
thousand dollars, advertised to take place at a Philadelphia auction
room, was stopped by order of a common pleas court, following injunction
proceedings by the State of New Hampshire on the ground that the letters
are part of its official archives.
The collection is said to be of great historic importance, and contain
letters written by George Washington and other revolutionary statesmen
and soldiers. The injunction petition declares that all the letters were
originally in the custody of the first governor of New Hampshire. The
papers disappeared many years ago, and their whereabouts was not
disclosed until May, 1913.
Ban on Alcohol in United States Soon, is His Prediction.
“The greatest good thing that has happened in the world since the
resurrection of Christ was the prohibition proclamation of Czar
Nicholas, of Russia. One hundred and sixty million people went on the
water wagon overnight, and to-day they are all glad of it.”
This statement was only one of many pointed declarations made by Clinton
N. Howard, of Rochester, N. Y., at one of the closing meetings of the
big Christian Endeavor Convention in Chicago. He addressed delegates
from every part of the country. The convention brought more than ten
thousand to the Chicago Coliseum.
“We have been applying a small plaster in an effort to cure a big sore,”
said Howard, who is known as the “Little Giant.” Tiny of body, he flung
down the gauntlet in vigorous terms and predicted a dry United States
before long. “We have temporized with John Barleycorn,” he said, “when
he has been convicted a million times.
“For many months there has been a terrible war on the other side of the
ocean. I venture to predict it will be won by those forces which have
forsworn the use of alcoholic liquor.
“Three years before the war began the kaiser, addressing a large body of
young men just being graduated into active naval service, said:
“‘I ask that you hereafter dispense wholly with strong drink. I want my
men to be able to steer my ships straight, and to shoot straight, and
that cannot be done unless a man is sober.’
“To-day there is sitting in the presidential chair of the United States
the most princely man who has ever graced that position. He is a good
man, a great man, and I would to God he had the same power right now
that is vested in Czar Nicholas.
“Alcohol is intrenched on a line which it has held for many years, but
the allied forces of decency, honesty, humanity, economy are slowly but
surely driving it back.”
Oldest College Man Dies.
Reverend Doctor John Fryer Messick, who has the distinction of being the
oldest living college graduate in the United States, died just two days
after his one-hundred-and-second-birthday anniversary.
Doctor Messick was born in Albany, N. Y., June 28, 1813, and graduated
as valedictorian of the class of 1834 at Rutgers College, New Brunswick,
N. J. He graduated from Rutgers Seminary three years later.
In 1836, Doctor Messick cast his first vote for Henry Clay, Whig
candidate for President of the United States. He reached his
one-hundredth birthday without any physical defect whatever.
Ball Players Dialect Different from Fans.
Baseball fans used to talk about the same language as the players. But
it’s different now. Whether they did it just to be different or just to
amuse themselves, the present generation of ball players, including many
young gents from our most famous institutions of pure English, have
invented a new line of lingo, by which they converse among themselves.
Here’s the key to a few of the terms now used by all our best players:
Deceiver--A Pitcher.
Monkey Suits--Baseball uniforms.
Uniform--Civilian clothes.
Dogs--Feet.
Sneaks--Soft-soled shoes.
Wolves--Knocking fans.
Orchard--Ball park.
Glue--Money.
Him or He--The manager of the club.
Agate--Regulation baseball.
Sullivans--Upper berths. Also tourist sleepers which have cane seats.
Ducat--A pass to the game.
Stuff--The curves a pitcher puts on the ball.
Bludgeon--A bat.
Work--The act of playing ball.
Geyser--A spitball pitcher.
Groceries--Meals. Also used to denote prizes offered by merchants for
early-season feats.
At Seventy-two a “Schoolboy.”
One never gets too old to attend school is a principle strongly
advocated by Joseph Gillet, oldest “schoolboy” in the engineering
courses of the continuation school in Milwaukee, Wis. Mr. Gillet has
just turned seventy-two, but he has the appearance and memory of a man
of fifty. Although he was denied opportunities of learning to a great
extent when he was a boy, he has tried to grasp every opportunity in
adult life. This is the eighth time he has matriculated at a school
which would offer him advancement.
He was born in Alsace, where he was graduated from the public school at
fourteen. Later he attended a private continuation school for six
months, after which he decided to learn the machinist trade. From 1860
to 1864 he was an apprentice. Three years later he entered a
marine-engineering school, where he remained six months. Finally, before
leaving France, he tried sea diving.
When Mr. Gillet landed in Montreal in 1872, he at once entered an
English school. His progress in the language was so rapid that in a
little while he became a teacher in a night school, at the same time
studying steam engineering and drafting. In 1906 he began an electrical
course at Marquette College and continued it for six years.
“I have always been accustomed to much work,” declared Mr. Gillet, “and
have made it a point to take advantage of it. One can always learn
something new in the mechanical trade. I cannot be idle.”
Ground Hogs Invade Indiana Farms.
Farmers in the western part of Delaware County, Ind., are up in arms
against the ground hog. Hundreds of the pests overrun the farms in that
part of the country.
Many farms are literally honeycombed with ground-hog holes. It is said
that on one farm not far from Daleville there are as many as five
hundred ground-hog dens. The sport of shooting the animals has replaced
all others, and hunters who fare afield after these weather prophets
seldom go unrewarded.
Apparently the situation has proved to be of keen interest to the
squirrels, which are seldom hunted now in that vicinity, the hunters
preferring the larger and juicier game, and at the same time conferring
a benefit on the farmers by reducing the number of pests which destroy
so much corn. According to riflemen and others the squirrels, which are
numerous in that part of the country have become positively tame because
they have not been hunted. But the ground hogs have become wary and keep
sentinels posted, which, by their whistling, warn their comrades of the
hunter’s approach.
The ground hog’s call is a clear, distinct whistle, not greatly unlike
the singing of a canary bird, only much louder and even sweeter in tone.
It is interesting to observe a full-grown ground hog, weighing several
pounds, emitting a melodious warble that might well belong to a
feathered songster.
Doctor Camdon C. McKinney of Daleville, is perhaps, eastern Indiana’s
greatest “ground-hog expert” and what he does not know about these
little animals and their ways of living is not worth knowing.
Incidentally Doctor McKinney is a crack rifle shot and not only does
fried or roasted ground hog grace his family table as often as he may
desire, but he supplies a few friends in Muncie and elsewhere with this
delicacy on occasion.
“I like to observe the ground hog in his native habitat almost as well
as I like to eat his succulent flesh,” said Doctor McKinney. “The
farmer’s chief objection to him and the reason that he welcomes hunters
who will destroy the ground hog is because the animals insist on
destroying corn. As soon as the corn fills out and reaches the
roasting-ear stage the ground hogs get busy and devour the ears, either
on the spot where they find them or they drag the corn to their dens and
eat it there at their leisure, the whole family of the particular den
joining in the feast much as the human family does at the same season of
year.
“Family by family these little animals will fill their dens to
overflowing with the products of the farmer’s toil, and one family will
even assist a neighbor who is a little short of help in the ground-hog
harvest time. Thus it may be seen that a large colony of ground hogs may
cause a great loss in a corn community.]
“Human beings might well learn from the ground hog the Biblical lesson:
‘It is good for brethren to dwell together in amity.’ Ground hogs do not
fight among themselves, but they stand up for each other through thick
and thin. A personal incident will illustrate this. The other day while
hunting I noticed one of the little animals stick his head cautiously
out of his hole. When he finally ventured entirely out, I shot him, but
I never saw him afterward. No sooner did he fall than his family rushed
out and dragged him back into the den.
“The only way a hunter can get close enough to one of these animals to
make a good shot is to hide himself not far from a hole and wait for the
ground hog to appear. He first will peer out cautiously, only the end of
his snout and his twinkling eyes being visible. Then withdrawing,
possibly to report to the others of the family that the coast is clear,
he displays a little more of his body at the mouth of the den, and then
again runs back. He does this several times, running back each time, and
on each reappearance displaying a little more of his body.
“Finally satisfied that there is no enemy in sight, he comes entirely
into view, and, standing upright on his hind legs, cocks his head to one
side, like a rooster that has been out in the rain. It is then that the
hunter’s opportunity has arrived.
“The ground hog is largely a vegetarian although he does eat bugs, but
prefers grains, roots, and grasses. Unlike the opossum, he will not
touch carrion nor any unwholesome food.”
For Good Health Drink Deeply of Adam’s Ale.
“A gallon a day will keep the doctor away.”
This is what many physicians say--in one way or another--when asked if
it is a good thing to drink much water.
Doctors disagree, however, about whether it is a good thing to drink
water with meals, the majority believing that food should not be washed
down with liquids, but should be thoroughly chewed and mixed with
saliva, which is an aid to digestion. But several doctors who were asked
about it asserted that it was good to drink even as much as a quart of
water with meals.
All of the seven doctors who were interviewed about the benefits of
water drinking agreed that the copious drinking of water was a
preventive of disease, and they had known many cases in which health was
restored by the drinking of water in large quantities. One doctor
advocates the drinking of as much as three gallons of water a day in
very warm weather, reducing the amount when the weather is cooler, but
never drinking less than a gallon a day.
“Why,” said this physician, “two-thirds of the weight of the body is
water. In a very warm day in August an average man who is at work will
perspire from two to six quarts of water a day. Where is it all coming
from if you don’t drink it? Many poisons generated by the body are
exuded through the pores of the skin in perspiration. Many persons think
they are not perspiring unless they can see beads of water on the skin.
But we perspire at all times, waking and sleeping, and we do not see it
because it evaporates immediately. It is almost impossible to drink too
much water.”
Another doctor said; “I saw a short article in a newspaper the other
evening quoting an eminent medical authority as saying that all girls
and women who wished to have a good complexion should drink two quarts
of water a day. I would double that and advise them to drink four quarts
a day. Give the body plenty of pure water, inside and outside, a gallon
a day inside, a thorough bathing of the whole body at least once a day,
and plenty of exercise, preferably by outdoor walking, and you can’t
very well be sick. If any one would do that, one-half the doctors would
have to seek some other business. If every woman would do that, the
rouge and complexion powder factories would shut down. There is nothing
so good as plenty of water drunk every day for the complexion.”
One physician said: “I am not claiming that the drinking of plenty of
water is a preventive of all diseases; that would be misleading and
silly, but I will say this: I have cured several bad cases of
rheumatism, and many cases of stomach ailments with water alone. In
those cases the patients were in the habit of drinking very little
water. I prescribed a quart of water before breakfast each morning and a
gallon on going to bed at night. It worked a cure in each case.
“I say this, most emphatically, that a half gallon or a gallon of water
a day will help wash out the toxic poisons that are formed in the body,
and will tend to keep a person in good health and help him resist
disease.
“There is constantly being accumulated in the body not only waste
matter, resulting from chemical changes taking place in the upkeep of
vital energy, but also the blood takes up toxic poisons from the
intestines. Unless those things are thrown off by the lungs, skin,
kidneys, et cetera, we become lazy, dyspeptic, and uric acid will
accumulate and cause rheumatism, kidney disorders, and other organic
disturbances. Now, such conditions would be much less likely to ensue
were the simple precaution taken of drinking a pint of water often
throughout the day.
“Especially is this true of persons who take little exercise and who
live indoors, where they breathe impure air.
“I often prescribe the slow sipping of at least a pint of hot water in
the morning while dressing. This washes out the stomach, stimulates the
circulation in the lungs and skin and promotes the action of the liver.
If a person has a tendency to gout or rheumatism, the water-drinking
habit is especially recommended.”
One physician was found who recommended the drinking of a quart of water
with each meal, but the majority were opposed to drinking water while
eating.
Soldiers in War, 21,770,000.
A German military authority estimates that 21,770,000 men stand opposed
to each other--12,820,000 on the side of the Allies and 8,950,000 for
Germany, Austria, and Turkey. On the naval side the estimates are as
follows:
Germany,
Allies. et al.
Line ships 113 56
Big cruisers 87 17
Small cruisers 128 56
Torpedo boats 704 358
Submarine 179 [A]40
Miscellaneous 231 239
[A] Number of new boats unknown.
The daily cost of the war to the ten nations now taking part he places
at 169,000,000 marks--$42,250,000--and he estimates that up to
the first of April the total cost of the war was 40,000,000,000
marks--$10,000,000,000. Italy again excepted, he placed the annual cost
of such a war at $15,000,000,000.
It would take 60,000,000 of the huge 1,000-mark bank notes to pay this
cost, and these notes, stacked on top of each other, would make a pile
20,000 feet, almost four miles in height. In gold, this same sum would
weigh 24,000,000 kilograms--52,912,800 pounds, whereas the entire gold
production of the entire world during the last five hundred years has
amounted to but 15,000,000 kilograms.
The daily war costs for the German empire he places at 33,000,000
marks--$8,250,000, and only forty days of this conflict cost as much as
the whole Franco-Prussian War of 1870-71. The cost to England, exclusive
of the colonies, is about the same, and three months of this war cost
Great Britain as much as the Boer War, lasting two years and seven
months. France spends a little more daily.
Selling Street Cars Popular Bunko Game.
Government buildings, skyscrapers, and “gold bricks” have been “sold” to
innocent farmers, who, with carpet bag in hand, stand on crowded corners
and view the “wonders” of great cities.
The days of this kind of crooked work are passed, so police say, but
nevertheless street cars have been “sold” in Chicago and elsewhere in
Illinois, within the last two weeks.
Adorjan Antal is under arrest in Cleveland, Ohio, on a charge that he
“sold” street cars to foreigners who recently settled in Kane County,
Illinois.
Report from Columbus says the Ohio governor’s office has honored a
requisition from the governor of Illinois for the return of Antal, alias
Ontal Impre.
Wins in Long Name Contest.
Following the marriage of Anna Staingenskaitiskitage and the receipt of
congratulations from Mae Makoupakosalouskis and William J.
Pappademanakakoopoulous, the Duquoin, Ill., post-office
clerks inaugurated a contest for long names. Demetries
Pappatheothoroukoummountorgeotopoulous, of Moline, Ill., was declared
the winner.
At Twenty, She Sees for First Time.
After living in darkness twenty-five years, a two-minute operation by
Doctor Vard H. Hulen, of San Francisco, enabled Miss Tomsina Carlyle, a
University of California student, to gaze for the first time upon her
mother’s face.
Miss Carlyle describes her sensations since regaining sight as being
difficult to define or classify.
“Being blind since birth,” Miss Carlyle said, “has taught me it is the
brain, not the sense of sight, that counts. The speed of moving objects,
particularly on the streets, staggered me for a time, and if I become
frightened at a street corner, I close my eyes and walk forward
rejoicingly in safety.”
Cost of Hanging Man Was Seventeen Dollars.
The first record of warrants ever used by a treasurer of Rush County,
Ind., covering the period from 1822 to 1841, was found in the
treasurer’s office recently. The record showed that it cost the county
only seventeen dollars to hang Edward L. Swanson, the only man who ever
paid the death penalty in Rush County.
He was convicted of the murder of Elisha Clark in April, 1829, and,
after a motion for a new trial failed, was hanged in May of the same
year. The warrants issued show that five dollars was allowed Beverly R.
Ward for making a coffin for Swanson, two dollar was allowed David
Looney for digging the grave, and ten dollars was paid William L. Bupelt
for “rope, cap, shroud, and gallows for the execution of Edward L.
Swanson.”
Twins, Eighty-six, Rocked in Cradle.
Mrs. J. C. Barrett, of Edmonston, N. Y., and Mrs. Nathan V. Brand, of
Leonardsville, N. Y., who claim the distinction of being the oldest
twins in the State, celebrated their eighty-sixth birthday with some
unusual features. The cradle in which they slept as children has been
preserved, and the invited guests insisted that the twins be rocked in
it in the presence of all, and this was done, adding more merriment to
the occasion.
Facts You May Not Know.
There are eighty thousand exhibitors at the Pacific Exposition, and the
weight of the exhibits averages one ton each.
The opal is the only gem not successfully counterfeited.
One dollar to get married, ten cents to go to college, and fifty cents
to graduate are some of the items in the new regulation “governing the
affixing of stamps on certificates concerning human affairs,” which were
recently promulgated in China.
The population of French Indo-China is about 20,000,000, of whom 20,000
are Europeans, chiefly French.
The human family is subject to about 1,200 different kinds of disease
and ailment.
Motion pictures of insects in flight show that they regulate their speed
by changing the inclination of their wings rather than by altering the
rapidity of their motion.
All telephone operators in Egypt are required to be able to speak
English, French, Italian, Greek, and Arabic.
The American mountain sheep are the greatest leapers in the world.
Women study art with the aid of mirrors.
Bright people look upon the bright side of life.
The more you have, the more your fun will cost you. Auction sales
originated in ancient Rome, and were introduced to enable soldiers to
dispose of spoils of war.
Military training is compulsory on all male citizens between the ages of
twelve and twenty-five in New Zealand.
Jailbirds Sing as They Saw Through Bars.
John Wolfe, undersheriff of Wyandotte County, Kan., was seated in front
of the Wyandotte County Jail the other night when he heard the oft
repeated strains of “Throw Out the Life Line.” The prisoners were
singing. Wolfe crept to a side window and listened.
“Throw out the life line across the dark wave,” floated out to him, and
between the words came a sharp sound, as of steel scraping against
steel.
Then there was a pause in the singing. The singers had come to the end
of the song.
“How are you getting on, Brody?” was the next sound.
“All right, sing up, sing ‘Rock of Ages.’”
“Rock of ages, cleft for me,” the chorus began.
But before that hymn was finished, two deputies and Wolfe stepped into
the cell occupied by Jess Brody. He is under fifteen years’ sentence for
the murder of Nathan Gill. With him were Frank Dusenberry, awaiting his
second trial, charged with the murder of Jennie James, and Herbert
Davidson, held on a statutory charge. In the cell were found ten steel
saws and two knives. A bar had been sawed through. Once out of the cell,
only a window and its soft iron bars remained between the men and the
jail yard.
In the next cell was Fred Wing, charged with the murder of Mr. and Mrs.
John M. Crist, his father and mother-in-law, and attempted murder of his
wife. A knife was found in his cell.
There were thirty-nine prisoners in the jail, two others charged with
murder.
Big Fish Causes Drowning.
While attempting to land a big fish, Frank Waterbury, of Reading, Mich.,
was drowned in Turner Lake. He was in the same boat with his brother,
and when he hooked the big one, both men stood in one end of the boat
and tried to land the fish. The boat filled with water and sank. The
brother swam ashore.
Stolen Bird Returns Home.
A neighbor of Paul Graham, of No. 3 Bradburn Street, Rochester, N. Y.,
saw a canary bird flitting about in a tree within a few doors from the
Graham home. Members of the family were notified and the bird was at
once identified. The bird’s cage was brought out and placed on a lawn
near the house. The bird promptly flew to the ground and entered its
cage.
Burglars entered the Graham house a few days ago, and, in addition to
taking several articles, took the canary. The police were notified of
the finding of the canary. The canary was carried away in a new brass
cage. How it escaped, of course, is not known, but it evidently was
taken far away.
Find American Girl Husky.
The health department has weighed and measured ten thousand New York
school children who, from July 13, 1914, to April 13, 1915, asked for
working papers.
The boys of English, Scotch, or Irish stock weighed, on the average,
102.44 pounds. They were the lightest of all in avoirdupois.
The boys of Italian stock weighed 104.61.
The native American boys of American-born parents weighed 105.61 pounds.
The boys of German stock weighed 106.62 pounds.
Those of Jewish stock weighed 106.92 pounds.
The Russian, Polish, or Bohemian boys weighed 108.13 pounds. They were
the heaviest of all.
The composite average weight of the boys of all nationalities, native
and foreign, was 105.71 pounds.
In the matter of height, the German boys were the tallest, with an
average of 62.39 inches.
The native American boys of American-born parents averaged 62.38 inches,
the English, Scotch, or Irish, 62.21; the Russian, Polish, or Bohemian,
61.87; the Jewish, 60.93; the Italian, 60.30.
The composite average height of boys of all nationalities, American and
foreign, was 61.35 inches.
The girls of native American, English, Scotch, and Irish stocks were
taller and heavier than the boys of those stocks.
The composite average height of all the girls was less than that of the
boys, but they were a fraction heavier than the boys. The Russian,
Polish, and Bohemian girls were the tallest. The German girls were the
heaviest.
No Hair Cut in Fifty Years.
Caleb Stone, eighty, Middletown, Ill., received his first hair cut and
shave in fifty years. He said a half century ago that he would not
permit his hair to be cut or his beard to be trimmed, and kept his word.
His white locks had grown down to his shoulders and his beard to his
waist.
Groping for Gems in the Sea.
There is plenty of romance and excitement connected with the work of
diving for pearls in the waters of West Australia, but one of the
strangest things about the business is the curious mental condition of
the divers while they are under the water, groping for precious gems,
says an exchange. During a part of his time below, the diver is said to
be bordering on insanity.
A grudge against or a suspicion of those above is suddenly magnified in
the diver’s imagination, and he signals to be pulled up, resolved on
immediate revenge. When he reaches the top, however, the imaginary
wrongs vanish.
At a depth of eighty feet the diver cannot see well; he moves painfully
and he breathes hard. At every foot deeper he thinks how slight a mishap
may befoul his life line, and all his thoughts tend to center on his
hazards.
At such times the inadequacy of his pay appears to him as a huge
grievance, but when he comes to the surface and rests a few minutes, all
is again serene.
Man Suffocates in Balloon.
Asphyxiation inside of a balloon was the perilous plight by Andy Doyle,
of Krug Park, Omaha, who assisted Veo L. Huntley, balloonist, at the
recent celebration in Shenandoah, Iowa.
Doyle was stationed inside the bag space to watch the progress made in
filling and to call out for more gas from time to time, as was the usual
custom. Because of the strong winds blowing the fumes of the burning
kerosene oil to the ground, he was suffocated.
Hearing no noise from him, others went inside the bag and dragged him
out. He was revived in a short while.
From Mule Driver to Superintendent of Car System.
“Play straight and keep at it.”
This is the only formula of success followed by William W. Weatherwax,
who rose from a “mule driver” at one dollar and a half a day to be a
ten-thousand-dollar-a-year street-car superintendent.
Weatherwax told the story of his remarkable rise to Chicago’s street
railway board of arbitration at a recent session.
He entered the service of the Chicago City Railways Company as a boy of
twenty. His work was driving horses hitched to cars. His pay was one
dollar and fifty cents a day. He was known as a “mule boy.”
From that beginning, by steady, persevering work, Weatherwax worked
steadily upward. To-day he is in charge of the operation of the surface
lines of Chicago.
Asked to account for his success, Weatherwax said he “guessed it just
happened.”
“I worked hard and played straight--that was all there was to it,” he
said. “I left school when I was thirteen years old. I got a job with a
street-car company at Troy, N. Y., my home town. I started with the
Chicago company in 1886. I have been in its employ ever since.”
Weatherwax’s progress from the bottom up ran through these stages.
Driver, horse tender, hay-hoist operator in car barn, cable-car
conductor, assistant barn foreman, division superintendent, general
superintendent of transportation.
To-day he is the operating head of the greatest street-railway system in
the world, with two assistants, thirteen division superintendents, and
thousands of men under his control.
What Women are Doing.
“Woman’s work never ends,” wrote a poet long ago, and his statement is
as true to-day as ever. In addition to the women who work in their
homes, performing manifold household duties and rearing their children,
there are many who engage in the “gainful occupations,” as the census
reports call them. There is hardly an occupation listed in the latest
United States census in which woman is not represented. There are, for
instance, seventy-seven woman lumbermen--raftsmen and wood-choppers--in
the United States. There are 2,550 woman stock herders and raisers,
forty-five quarry operators, thirty-one blacksmiths, fifteen brick and
stone masons, and forty-four longshoremen. Many women have traveled far
up the road to success in their work. Ten women head iron foundries.
There are 325 woman bankers and 1,347 bank cashiers. Nearly a thousand
women are wholesale dealers. One woman is listed as a railroad official.
Three are proprietors of grain elevators.
Our Talc and Soapstone.
The United States produces more talc and soapstone than all the rest of
the world combined. Moreover, according to the United States Geological
Survey, our production has nearly doubled in the last ten years,
increasing from 91,185 short tons, valued at $940,731 in 1904, to
172,296 short tons, valued at $1,865,087, in 1914.
Of talc alone the United States produced 151,088 tons, and of soapstone
21,208 tons. Talc is a mineral of which soapstone is an impure massive
form. Few people are aware how much we owe to talc and soapstone. It is
one of the softest of minerals. It is so smooth and slippery that it has
become a great panacea for friction in many branches of human industry.
Talc is used in making talcum toilet powder, the tailor uses it to chalk
fabrics for new suits, and talc “slate pencils” and crayons have enabled
many scholars to solve knotty problems. Talc bleaches out cotton cloth,
and in paints we see it everywhere, but its chief use is as a filler in
paper of many kinds.
There are nine States producing this useful mineral. New York continues
to be the leading producer, yielding more than fifty-seven per cent of
the total production of talc in the United States, and far outranking
all other States excepting Vermont, which has in recent years so greatly
increased its production that in 1914 its output was about three-fourths
that of New York.
Of soapstone, Virginia holds the greatest supply, and, backed up by
Vermont, it meets the great demand for washtubs, sinks, and fireless
cookers.
Florida Camphor Industry.
The camphor industry in Florida, which may be said to have begun in
1905, has developed so greatly within a single decade it is confidently
expected that within a few years it will be able to supply the demand
for this important gum in this country. The bulk of the camphor now used
here is imported from Japan. A single tract of 1,600 acres of camphor
trees planted in 1908, last year yielded over ten thousand pounds of
camphor gum, in addition to the proportionate supply of oil.
This tract of land was planted by a celluloid factory, which is
utilizing the gum for its own purposes. Another company last year bought
eighteen square miles of land in the same locality, and is rapidly
planting it in camphor, 1,600 acres having been planted this year.
Enough seedlings are already on hand to plant nine square miles. Several
methods, and also some new machinery, have been devised for camphor
production in Florida, which will offset the cheap labor of Japan and
insure a sufficient profit.
A Clever Invention.
To combat the cotton-boll weevil, a Mississippian has invented a device
which, suspended from a man’s shoulders, brushes the insects from cotton
plants into a receptacle holding oil.
Owes His Life to Rise in Price of Zinc Ore.
To one-hundred-and-thirty-dollar zinc ore, J. H. Worth, mine and other
property owner of Joplin, Mo., owes his life. Two men, Royal Cardwell
and Samuel Houston, prospectors, had been waiting for nearly a year for
the price of ore to rise. They knew of an old, abandoned drift in a
certain mine, where, if ore prices would go high enough, they might make
some “easy money” by scrapping material that had been left years before.
Their wish was realized last week, when zinc concentrates went to one
hundred and thirty dollars per ton.
Entering the old drift in question, they found an unconscious man tied
hand and foot and gagged. He was taken to a hospital, and a few minutes
later, when he had recovered his sense, he told a strange story.
Worth had been accosted in a Joplin hotel by a stranger who said he
wanted to look over some of the former’s mining properties with a view
to obtaining a lease. The stranger’s partner then came up and was
introduced, but Worth does not remember either of their names. The three
entered a taxi and were taken to the old mine first mentioned, and,
after sending the motor back, proceeded to investigate the underground
workings. When they had at last entered the old, abandoned drift, Worth
was seized by the two men, gagged and tied to a mining timber, where he
was left for about an hour.
When the two men returned, they carried a box which had one end of a
long fuse attached to something inside. They placed the box at the bound
man’s side and stretched the fuse out on the floor of the drift, lighted
the far end, and, as they started away, one of them remarked:
“The fire will reach the dynamite in an hour, and that will be your
finish.”
That the dynamite, of which there was about fifty pounds, quite enough
to have caved in the drift, did not explode was from the fact, afterward
discovered, that the men, in walking about, about stepped on the fuse,
cutting it in two against a sharp point of stone, thus stopping the
little spark of destruction.
Worth had no idea as to the cause of the attack made upon him.
New Champion Horseshoer.
Harry Wilson, a Des Moines, Iowa, horseshoer, defeated Frank McCarty, of
Minneapolis, and Tom Welsh, of Milwaukee, in a shoeing contest. The
winner’s time was five minutes, forty-four seconds.
This Lad Makes a Home Run.
A twelve-inch trout, five-foot rattlesnake, and a big black bear can
afford a whole lot of excitement for one day. According to Robert
Bastian, a sixteen-year-old boy, entirely too much for a tenderfoot.
Robert was fishing in Roaring Run Creek, near Williamsport, Pa. He had
just hauled out the trout, when he discovered the rattlesnake curled up
beside the big stone. Seizing a club, he started to kill the snake, when
he heard something crashing through the bushes. He jumped aside just in
time to avoid the rush of the bear.
Without waiting to pick up trout, fishing rod, or lines, he made a home
run of over a mile. Folks in one of the houses he passed on his return
dash say they couldn’t make out whether he was some low-flying bird or a
frightened jack rabbit.
Trees Lightning Is Most Apt to Strike.
What trees are most likely to be struck by lightning? A Swedish forestry
journal called the _Woods_ has made a serious study of this subject, and
the results are both instructive and interesting. The oak, for example,
is about a hundred times more likely to be struck than the beech. Next
to the oak, the trees that are most often struck are the poplars, pear
trees, elms, willows, ash, and the larger kinds of evergreens.
Those least likely to be struck by lightning are alders, maples, horse
chestnut, and beeches. The last-named seems to be the one that is least
often injured by lightning. A middle position is occupied by lindens,
apple trees, cherry trees, walnut trees, and real chestnuts. The birch
is classified by some as being quite safe from lightning, while others
have a directly opposite view.
A German botanist, Ernest Stahl, has explained that liability to be
struck by lightning depends on the ease with which the trunks of
different trees get wet. It is a well-known observation that “dry
thunder” is the most dangerous, and it is probable that the wet layer
about the bark of a tree acts as a safeguard. Therefore, it is clear
that in a thunderstorm it is best to avoid trees with a dry bark, and
also trees that have been mutilated in the crown.
It may also be observed in this connection that the number of people
killed every year for every million inhabitants amounts to 1.8 in
Sweden, 1 in England, 4 in France, and 4.4 in Germany.
* * * * *
The Nick Carter Stories
ISSUED EVERY SATURDAY BEAUTIFUL COLORED COVERS
When it comes to detective stories worth while, the =Nick Carter Stories=
contain the only ones that should be considered. They are not overdrawn
tales of bloodshed. They rather show the working of one of the finest
minds ever conceived by a writer. The name of Nick Carter is familiar
all over the world, for the stories of his adventures may be read in
twenty languages. No other stories have withstood the severe test of
time so well as those contained in the =Nick Carter Stories=. It proves
conclusively that they are the best. We give herewith a list of some of
the back numbers in print. You can have your news dealer order them, or
they will be sent direct by the publishers to any address upon receipt
of the price in money or postage stamps.
730--The Torn Card.
731--Under Desperation’s Spur.
732--The Connecting Link.
733--The Abduction Syndicate.
738--A Plot Within a Plot.
739--The Dead Accomplice.
746--The Secret Entrance.
747--The Cavern Mystery.
748--The Disappearing Fortune.
749--A Voice from the Past.
752--The Spider’s Web.
753--The Man With a Crutch.
754--The Rajah’s Regalia.
755--Saved from Death.
756--The Man Inside.
757--Out for Vengeance.
758--The Poisons of Exili.
759--The Antique Vial.
760--The House of Slumber.
761--A Double Identity.
762--“The Mocker’s” Stratagem.
763--The Man that Came Back.
764--The Tracks in the Snow.
765--The Babbington Case.
766--The Masters of Millions.
767--The Blue Stain.
768--The Lost Clew.
770--The Turn of a Card.
771--A Message in the Dust.
772--A Royal Flush.
774--The Great Buddha Beryl.
775--The Vanishing Heiress.
776--The Unfinished Letter.
777--A Difficult Trail.
782--A Woman’s Stratagem.
783--The Cliff Castle Affair.
784--A Prisoner of the Tomb.
785--A Resourceful Foe.
789--The Great Hotel Tragedies.
795--Zanoni, the Transfigured.
796--The Lure of Gold.
797--The Man With a Chest.
798--A Shadowed Life.
799--The Secret Agent.
800--A Plot for a Crown.
801--The Red Button.
802--Up Against It.
803--The Gold Certificate.
804--Jack Wise’s Hurry Call.
805--Nick Carter’s Ocean Chase.
807--Nick Carter’s Advertisement.
808--The Kregoff Necklace.
811--Nick Carter and the Nihilists.
812--Nick Carter and the Convict Gang.
813--Nick Carter and the Guilty Governor.
814--The Triangled Coin.
815--Ninety-nine--and One.
816--Coin Number 77.
NEW SERIES
NICK CARTER STORIES
1--The Man from Nowhere.
2--The Face at the Window.
3--A Fight for a Million.
4--Nick Carter’s Land Office.
5--Nick Carter and the Professor.
6--Nick Carter as a Mill Hand.
7--A Single Clew.
8--The Emerald Snake.
9--The Currie Outfit.
10--Nick Carter and the Kidnapped Heiress.
11--Nick Carter Strikes Oil.
12--Nick Carter’s Hunt for a Treasure.
13--A Mystery of the Highway.
14--The Silent Passenger.
15--Jack Dreen’s Secret.
16--Nick Carter’s Pipe Line Case.
17--Nick Carter and the Gold Thieves.
18--Nick Carter’s Auto Chase.
19--The Corrigan Inheritance.
20--The Keen Eye of Denton.
21--The Spider’s Parlor.
22--Nick Carter’s Quick Guess.
23--Nick Carter and the Murderess.
24--Nick Carter and the Pay Car.
25--The Stolen Antique.
26--The Crook League.
27--An English Cracksman.
28--Nick Carter’s Still Hunt.
29--Nick Carter’s Electric Shock.
30--Nick Carter and the Stolen Duchess.
31--The Purple Spot.
32--The Stolen Groom.
33--The Inverted Cross.
34--Nick Carter and Keno McCall.
35--Nick Carter’s Death Trap.
36--Nick Carter’s Siamese Puzzle.
37--The Man Outside.
38--The Death Chamber.
39--The Wind and the Wire.
40--Nick Carter’s Three Cornered Chase.
41--Dazaar, the Arch-Fiend.
42--The Queen of the Seven.
43--Crossed Wires.
44--A Crimson Clew.
45--The Third Man.
46--The Sign of the Dagger.
47--The Devil Worshipers.
48--The Cross of Daggers.
49--At Risk of Life.
50--The Deeper Game.
51--The Code Message.
52--The Last of the Seven.
53--Ten-Ichi, the Wonderful.
54--The Secret Order of Associated Crooks.
55--The Golden Hair Clew.
56--Back From the Dead.
57--Through Dark Ways.
58--When Aces Were Trumps.
59--The Gambler’s Last Hand.
60--The Murder at Linden Fells.
61--A Game for Millions.
62--Under Cover.
63--The Last Call.
64--Mercedes Danton’s Double.
65--The Millionaire’s Nemesis.
66--A Princess of the Underworld.
67--The Crook’s Blind.
68--The Fatal Hour.
69--Blood Money.
70--A Queen of Her Kind.
71--Isabel Benton’s Trump Card.
72--A Princess of Hades.
73--A Prince of Plotters.
74--The Crook’s Double.
75--For Life and Honor.
76--A Compact With Dazaar.
77--In the Shadow of Dazaar.
78--The Crime of a Money King.
79--Birds of Prey.
80--The Unknown Dead.
81--The Severed Hand.
82--The Terrible Game of Millions.
83--A Dead Man’s Power.
84--The Secrets of an Old House.
85--The Wolf Within.
86--The Yellow Coupon.
87--In the Toils.
88--The Stolen Radium.
89--A Crime in Paradise.
90--Behind Prison Bars.
91--The Blind Man’s Daughter.
92--On the Brink of Ruin.
93--Letter of Fire.
94--The $100,000 Kiss.
95--Outlaws of the Militia.
96--The Opium-Runners.
97--In Record Time.
98--The Wag-Nuk Clew.
99--The Middle Link.
100--The Crystal Maze.
101--A New Serpent in Eden.
102--The Auburn Sensation.
103--A Dying Chance.
104--The Gargoni Girdle.
105--Twice in Jeopardy.
106--The Ghost Launch.
107--Up in the Air.
108--The Girl Prisoner.
109--The Red Plague.
110--The Arson Trust.
111--The King of the Firebugs.
112--“Lifter’s” of the Lofts.
113--French Jimmie and His Forty Thieves.
114--The Death Plot.
115--The Evil Formula.
116--The Blue Button.
117--The Deadly Parallel.
118--The Vivisectionists.
119--The Stolen Brain.
120--An Uncanny Revenge.
121--The Call of Death.
122--The Suicide.
123--Half a Million Ransom.
124--The Girl Kidnaper.
125--The Pirate Yacht.
126--The Crime of the White Hand.
127--Found in the Jungle.
128--Six Men in a Loop.
129--The Jewels of Wat Chang.
130--The Crime in the Tower.
131--The Fatal Message.
132--Broken Bars.
133--Won by Magic.
134--The Secret of Shangore.
135--Straight to the Goal.
136--The Man They Held Back.
137--The Seal of Gijon.
138--The Traitors of the Tropics.
139--The Pressing Peril.
140--The Melting-Pot.
141--The Duplicate Night.
142--The Edge of a Crime.
143--The Sultan’s Pearls.
144--The Clew of the White Collar.
145--An Unsolved Mystery.
146--Paying the Price.
147--On Death’s Trail.
148--The Mark of Cain.
Dated July 17th, 1915.
149--A Network of Crime.
Dated July 24th, 1915.
150--The House of Fear.
Dated July 31st, 1915.
151--The Mystery of the Crossed Needles.
Dated August 7th, 1915.
152--The Forced Crime.
Dated August 14th, 1915.
153--The Doom of Sang Tu.
Dated August 21st, 1915.
154--The Mask of Death.
Dated August 28th, 1915.
155--The Gordon Elopement.
Dated Sept. 4th, 1915.
156--Blood Will Tell.
=PRICE, FIVE CENTS PER COPY.= If you want any back numbers of our
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money.
STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79-89 Seventh Ave., NEW YORK CITY