THE UNRAVELED TANGLE
Unpleasant as the interview had been to Roy, he no sooner left the
sickroom than he found his spirits rise with a great bound. At last!
At last he was cleared! Now the way was smoothed for him. All
aspersions on his character would be scattered like the morning mist
before the sun, as soon as the contents of the precious paper were
made known.
The three boys left the infirmary at about half an hour after eleven
o'clock. In a quarter of an hour classes would be dismissed for the
day, it being a customary half-holiday.
Jack Beecham was eager to post the notice on the bulletin board at
once. They took the wiser and safer course. They decided to see the
prefect first, as nothing appeared on the board without his sanction,
and when it did it was regarded as official.
"Come in," they heard him call in response to their rap at the door.
"Great news, Mr. Shalford!" shouted Jack Beecham before he entered the
room. "Everything's settled. Roy's all right now. The head of the
clique has done it this time--in black and white, too; see, sir."
Mr. Shalford arose, smiling, and extended his hand to Henning.
"I am very glad. It has been an ugly business. It has caused no end of
anxiety. The rumors and charges were always so intangible that I never
could trace one to its source. But let me see the paper."
This boys' true friend gave a low whistle as he read Stockley's
acknowledgment.
"So you are cleared, Henning; and the thief is known? That's capital.
Poor boy! Isn't it too bad, boys, to find a student--one of us--a thief,
a burglar, a felon! Oh, the pity of it! Well, pray for him, boys, pray
for him. Leave this note with me, Henning. I'll see that it does its
work. Congratulations, all of you. Whatever you have, Roy, you have some
loyal friends. Congratulations, congratulations, all of you!"
The note was immediately posted. Then the excitement began, at first
among half-a-dozen around the board, then among other groups, and in a
very short time throughout the college. George McLeod and Ernest
Winters simply went wild, and in less than an hour they could scarcely
speak at all, so hoarse were they from shouting.
Where was Henning? A rush was made to the Philosophy classroom. He was
not there. Perhaps he was with the rector or the prefect of studies.
Both these places were invaded by excited boys, but Roy was not
forthcoming.
Just as the big bell rang for dinner, George McLeod made a rush for
the chapel, sure that he would find his friend there. And there he did
find the three, Jack, Ambrose, and Roy, pouring out their thanksgiving
with grateful hearts for the happy turn events had taken.
"Come, Roy; it's dinner. The big bell has rung; come on."
Roy did not move, nor did his companions. He evidently intended to
avoid the crowd, waiting until they should all be at dinner, knowing
that in the refectory they would have to remain quiet.
This time he miscalculated entirely. No sooner did he make his
appearance than the whole of the students of the senior refectory rose
to their feet and gave three hearty cheers for Roy Henning. The
prefect made no attempt to stop the demonstration, while Ernest
Winters, out in the middle of the room, was fairly dancing with joy
and excitement.
At a given signal from Mr. Shalford all cheering ceased. Every one
resumed his seat--except Ernest, who danced on in his glee, to the
intense amusement of all, and to his own utter confusion when he
discovered that he was the only boy now making any noise in the
refectory.
Before the laugh at his expense had subsided the prefect whispered to
Roy:
"Shall I give talking at table in honor of the event?"
"To-morrow, please, sir," replied Roy, "now I want to think a little."
Mr. Shalford gave a look and a nod to the reader, and the meal, save
for the reader's voice, was finished in silence.
If the boys were not allowed to talk for a little while, there was no
lack of signs and signals. Harry Gill was frantic to signal across the
room his congratulations, and had a fit of coughing for trying to eat
his dinner and at the same time send a series of telegraphic messages
to Roy.
Henning was pleased to see that Andrew Garrett was quite demonstrative
of good will. Andrew, for a long time tried to catch his cousin's eye.
When he did so, he dropped his knife and fork and imitated a
handshaking. Roy did the same to his cousin, and was repaid by seeing
a look of intense pleasure spread over Andrew's face.
Of course all these signs and signals and other unusual occurrences
were breaches of discipline which, at any other time would not have
gone unchecked and unpunished. But Mr. Shalford knew exactly "how it
was." He had been a real boy himself once, and knew exactly when not
to see too much. He believed in the scriptural motto, "Be not over
just."
And after dinner! What a scene the yard presented for a few minutes!
The delighted boys shook Roy's hand until his arm fairly ached. His
arm ached because he allowed it to be shaken by others, instead of
himself shaking every hand extended. In this business he was
unexperienced.
In the midst of the enthusiasm, which resembled that which follows an
important and successful baseball game, only more intense, Harry Gill
jumped upon a long bench by the wall and shouted:
"Listen, gentlemen. I have good news for you. Hi, there! listen.
Listen there, boys, listen, listen! Roy Henning has promised to pitch
for the rest of the year! Did--you--hear that--boys?"
Roy suddenly remembered that he had intended to give Gill the credit for
this. He jumped on the bench in a second. Raising his hand, the hero of
the hour obtained silence in a much shorter time than Gill had done.
"If I pitch for the rest of the year," he said, "it is all Gill's
fault. I simply could not resist his importunities. Oh, he's a sly
one!"
"It isn't," said Gill laughing.
"It is."
"It is not."
"It is."
Then there was a cheer which could be heard down at Cuthberton.
After a time Roy, Jack, Ambrose, and Rob Jones extricated themselves
from the throng of happy boys, and with Gill and Andrew Garrett
repaired to the Philosophy classroom, or Hilson's parlor, as it was
called, which the other members of the class considerately left at
their disposal for the time being.
"Oh, what a day we're having!" sighed Jack Beecham as he sank into a
chair.
"Glorious, isn't it?" said the jubilant Bracebridge.
"And now that we are alone," began Andrew Garrett, "that is, among
special friends, I want to say something."
All were silent in an instant. Gill, who did not appear to have
realized the previous strained relations between the two cousins began
to say something funny, but he was checked by an unmistakably
significant glance from Ambrose, who had become quite serious, for he
rather expected a scene, if not an explosion. Shealey, who had come
in, was too full of fun and nonsense to imagine that anybody just now
could be serious, but when he saw the nervous look on Ambrose's face,
and the evident nervousness of Garrett, he, too, realized that it was
time to suspend bantering.
All the friends were standing in a group around Henning, laughing and
chattering as only boys thoroughly happy can laugh and chatter, when
Garrett began to speak. At the sound of his voice, they all, with Roy
in the center, turned and faced Garrett as he stood two or three feet
away.
"I want to say something," Garrett began again, "and I think it only
fair, Roy, to say it before these others, as well as to you."
Henning bowed slightly, having only a faint idea of what was coming.
At present he was too pleased to know that Garrett was not implicated
and that the family name was untarnished.
"I want to say that I consider myself to have been a pretty mean and
small sort of a fellow in this whole business."
"Oh! Don't----" began Roy in protest.
"Wait a minute, Roy. This is the task I have set myself, for it seems
to me the only possible way in which I can make reparation. I want to
say that I had a good deal to do with those rumors. I got in, somehow,
with a crowd of boys I ought to have been ashamed to associate with.
How it all happened I don't exactly know. Things went from bad to
worse with me, and pretty far, too. It seems a dream to me now. About
a week ago suddenly I began to realize my position. How this
realization came about I don't know. It must have been dear little
Ethel's prayers for me, but I began to think of my position, think of
what I was doing, and, yes, to think of the sin of it all. You were
away, Roy, and when I remembered your trouble and grief at home, and
when, finally, your brotherly telegram came, I began to be thoroughly
ashamed of myself. So now all I can do is to ask your pardon, and the
pardon of all these, your loyal and staunch friends."
As he listened to this manly avowal, there arose in Roy Henning's
breast an admiration for his cousin's moral courage. The other
auditors were deeply impressed. They waited with curiosity to see what
Roy would do. And he? He did precisely what might be expected of him.
Without saying a word, he stepped forward, took Garrett's hand and
shook it warmly. Then:
"It's all over, old man. Let bygones be bygones. I forgive everything
and forget."
"Thanks, very much. I do not deserve this, but you shall see I shall
deserve it."
There was a world of pathos and earnestness in Andrew's voice at that
moment.
The rest of the gathering of friends extended their hands, and Andrew
shook hands all around.
"Now," said Roy, "will you permit me to ask a few questions, to clear
up some obscure points in my mind?"
"Certainly; anything," said Andrew, with alacrity.
"How did that wretched Stockley come to wear your blue sweater? He
tells me he did, and, besides, I saw him get down below that grating
that night and I thought it was you."
"Thought it was me!" said Garrett in the greatest amazement. "You
thought it was I, and all this time you thought I was the thief, and
yet stood all I said against you, and never said a word! Oh, Roy! No
wonder on that Sunday afternoon you insisted on my clearing you!"
Andrew Garrett appeared to be fairly overcome by his cousin's
generosity.
"Why, oh, why didn't I know all this before? How differently I would
have acted. Believe me, it is only this very day I learned that the
thief wore my sweater that night. Before going to bed on the night of
the play I hung my sweater on a peg in the study-hall. The next
morning I saw that it had been used by some one, for there were dirt
stains on it and some rust marks from contact with rusty iron. I
determined not to wear it after that. I had no idea the thief had used
it, though."
"Thanks," said Roy. "Now one more question, Andrew."
"Fire away."
"This morning Stockley said something about a letter which you knew
something of--one in some way connected with me. Can you tell me
anything about it?"
Now it so happened that the affair of the letter was the only
incident in the untoward conduct of Garrett for many months past in
which he could take any kind of satisfaction. It will be remembered
that he had refused to allow Stockley and Smithers to circulate it
among the boys. He had retained it ever since.
"That's easy enough," he answered, as he drew the crumpled letter from
his pocket.
"But I have to ask you a question now, for the wording of the letter
certainly looks compromising enough. Listen to this, gentlemen."
Andrew read the scrap of paper to the astonished listeners.
"Dec. 23rd. My dear chum: Your letter received last
Monday. Sorry to say that"--"here's a blank," said Garrett,
and then continued, "have no money just now, so can not do the
thing you wish. Awfully sorry. Feel like stealing the money
rather than letting this thing go undone. However, wait
till the end of Christmas week. Something's going to turn
up before that--then we can go into partnership in this, at
least for the merit--keep everything dark. Don't say a word
to anybody about it. Mind, now, chum, everything must be
kept secret or--smash! Yours, Roy H."
When Garrett began to read the note, Henning looked puzzled. After a
time he seemed to remember all about it, and then he--blushed.
"Oh! that's----" but he stopped suddenly. He was going to make a
revelation of some kind, and suddenly thought better of it. He blushed
profusely--like a girl. He was awkward. For a moment he appeared
embarrassed in no slight degree. Twice he was going to say something;
twice he changed his mind.
His friends were very much puzzled. Was there a shade of truth in
some of the charges made against Roy after all? Had their idol fallen?
Was he, after all, not to be their hero? Was he a lesser character
than all along they had judged him?
Roy saw these fleeting fancies on their wavering faces, all except
Ambrose's. He never doubted, nor did he show the least sign of
wavering. Roy saw wonder and incipient doubt elsewhere, at which he
blushed the more furiously.
The situation was certainly dramatic. A climax had come to-day. Was
there, after all, to be an anticlimax? Was the idol to be shattered at
the very last moment?
"What does it all mean, Roy?" asked Garrett.
"I would rather not say," was the reply.
"You had better, Roy," said Bracebridge, in confidential tones.
Still blushing, Roy said:
"I say, you fellows, you don't mean to say there is anything crooked
in this, do you?"
"No," replied Andrew Garrett, "but an enemy of yours could make mighty
good capital out of it all the same. Tell us what it means, Roy."
"If you must know, then, it's merely this," answered Roy, a little
angrily, not exactly with his friends, but more at the exigencies of
the situation. "There is a poor--quite poor--student in a seminary who
is and has been a great friend of mine, in fact pretty much of a hero,
as you would say if you knew his story. He had the greatest longing to
get home last Christmas to see his widowed mother after years of
absence. He could not afford it, and, like a real friend, asked me to
assist him. Unfortunately my funds were very low--too low to help him.
I expected that my mother would send me her usual Christmas present. I
found out that she was willing to do so, and I wrote to her to send
most of it to my friend instead. There's your great mystery! I was
short of funds because my father cut down my allowance this year."
"So that's the reason you were so close this year?" asked Andrew.
"What?"
"Because your father cut down, and yet, by Jove! you were willing to
send what you did get to some one else. Well, I call that noble,
indeed I do. Oh, I wish I had known all this before! If I had but
known! If I had----"
"Say, you fellows, haven't you done catechising me?" said Roy Henning,
attempting to divert their attention from himself.
"If you please, cousin, one more question," said Andrew.
Roy made a wry face, and a mock gesture of impatience.
"You would try the patience of a saint!"
"May I?"
"Well, fire ahead."
"You say that all along you thought I was the thief?"
"I certainly did, Andrew," answered Roy, serious in a minute, "for no
one but you here ever wore a blue sweater."
"Then why did you not, especially as I had acted so meanly toward
you--why did you not do or say something that would point suspicion to
me, or openly make the charge?"
The question aroused considerable emotion in Roy's breast. It showed
itself in the workings of the muscles of his cheeks. Taking Andrew
Garrett by the hand, he looked into his eyes.
"Shall I tell you, Andrew?"
"Yes, please do."
"If I spoke or moved in this I knew it would break your mother's
heart."
Andrew could stand no more. He broke down. Boy as he was, with all a
boy's natural distaste for displaying emotion before others, he was
not ashamed to rest his head for a moment on his cousin's shoulder and
sob. The only words that fell from his lips were:
"Noble Roy!"
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TOM PLAYFAIR; OR, MAKING A START. By REV. F.J. FINN, S.J. "The best
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THE CAVE BY THE BEECH FORK. By REV. H.S. SPALDING, S.J. "This is a
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CHARLIE CHITTYWICK. By REV. DAVID BEARNE, S.J. Father Bearne shows a
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NAN NOBODY. By MARY T. WAGGAMAN. "Keeps one fascinated till the last
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LOYAL BLUE AND ROYAL SCARLET. By MARION A. TAGGART. "Will help keep
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THE GOLDEN LILY. By KATHARINE T. HINKSON. "Another proof of the
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THE MYSTERIOUS DOORWAY. By ANNA T. SADLIER. "A bright, sparkling
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OLD CHARLMONT'S SEED-BED. By SARA T. SMITH. "A delightful story of
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THE MADCAP SET AT ST. ANNE'S. By MARION J. BRUNOWE. "Plenty of fun
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BUNT AND BILL. By CLARA MULHOLLAND. "There are passages of true
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THE FLOWER OF THE FLOCK. By MAURICE F. EGAN. "They are by no means
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PICKLE AND PEPPER. By ELLA L. DORSEY. "This story is clever and
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A HOSTAGE OF WAR. By MARY G. BONESTEEL. "A wide-awake story, brimful
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AN EVERY DAY GIRL. By MARY T. CROWLEY. "One of the few tales that
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AS TRUE AS GOLD. By MARY E. MANNIX. "This book will make a name for
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AN HEIR OF DREAMS. By S.M. O'MALLEY. "The book is destined to become
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THE MYSTERY OF HORNBY HALL. By ANNA T. SADLIER. "Sure to stir the
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TWO LITTLE GIRLS. By LILLIAN MACK. "A real tale of real children."
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HIS FIRST AND LAST APPEARANCE. By REV. F.J. FINN, S.J. Profusely
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THE SHERIFF OF THE BEECH FORK. By REV. H.S. SPALDING, S.J. "From the
outset the reader's attention is captivated and never lags."
SAINT CUTHBERT'S. By REV. J.E. COPUS, S.J. "A truly inspiring tale,
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THE TAMING OF POLLY. By ELLA LORAINE DORSEY. "Polly with her cool
head, her pure heart and stern Western sense of justice."
STRONG-ARM OF AVALON. By MARY T. WAGGAMAN. "Takes hold of the
interest and of the heart and never lets go."
JACK HILDRETH ON THE NILE. By C. MAY. "Courage, truth, honest
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A KLONDIKE PICNIC. By ELEANOR C. DONNELLY. "Alive with the charm
that belongs to childhood."
A COLLEGE BOY. By ANTHONY YORKE. "Healthy, full of life, full of
incident."
THE GREAT CAPTAIN. By KATHARINE T. HINKSON. "Makes the most
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THE YOUNG COLOR GUARD. By MARY G. BONESTEEL. "The attractiveness of
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THE HALDEMAN CHILDREN. By MARY E. MANNIX. "Full of people
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PAULINE ARCHER. By ANNA T. SADLIER. "Sure to captivate the hearts of
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THE ARMORER OF SOLINGEN. By W. HERCHENBACH. "Cannot fail to inspire
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THE INUNDATION. By CANON SCHMID. "Sure to please the young readers
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THE BLISSYLVANIA POST-OFFICE. By MARION A. TAGGART. "Pleasing and
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DIMPLING'S SUCCESS. By CLARA MULHOLLAND. "Vivacious and natural and
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BISTOURI. By A. MELANDRI. "How Bistouri traces out the plotters and
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FRED'S LITTLE DAUGHTER. By SARA T. SMITH. "The heroine wins her way
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THE SEA-GULL'S ROCK. By J. SANDEAU. "The intrepidity of the little
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Juvenile Library C
PERCY WYNN; OR, MAKING A BOY OF HIM. By REV. F.J. FINN, S.J. "The
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THE RACE FOR COPPER ISLAND. By REV. H.S. SPALDING, S.J. "Father
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SHADOWS LIFTED. By REV. J.E. COPUS, S.J. "We know of no books more
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HOW THEY WORKED THEIR WAY, AND OTHER STORIES. By MAURICE F. EGAN. "A
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WINNETOU, THE APACHE KNIGHT. By C. MAY. "Chapters of breathless
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MILLY AVELING. By SARA TRAINER SMITH. "The best story Sara Trainer
Smith has ever written."
THE TRANSPLANTING OF TESSIE. By MARY T. WAGGAMAN. "An excellent
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THE PLAYWATER PLOT. By MARY T. WAGGAMAN. "How the plotters are
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AN ADVENTURE WITH THE APACHES. By GABRIEL FERRY.
PANCHO AND PANCHITA. By MARY E. MANNIX. "Full of color and warmth of
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RECRUIT TOMMY COLLINS. By MARY G. BONESTEEL. "Many a boyish heart
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BY BRANSCOME RIVER. By MARION A. TAGGART. "A creditable book in
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THE QUEEN'S PAGE. By KATHARINE TYNAN HINKSON. "Will arouse the young
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MARY TRACY'S FORTUNE. By ANNA T. SADLIER. "Sprightly, interesting
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BOB-O'LINK. By MARY T. WAGGAMAN. "Every boy and girl will be
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THREE GIRLS AND ESPECIALLY ONE. By MARION A. TAGGART. "There is an
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WRONGFULLY ACCUSED. By W. HERCHENBACH. "A simple tale,
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Juvenile Library D
THE WITCH OF RIDINGDALE. By REV. DAVID BEARNE, S.J. "Here is a story
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THE MYSTERY OF CLEVERLY. By GEORGE BARTON. There is a peculiar charm
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HARMONY FLATS. By C.S. WHITMORE. The characters in this story are
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WAYWARD WINIFRED. By ANNA T. SADLIER. A story for girls. Its youthful
readers will enjoy the vivid description, lively conversations, and
plenty of striking incidents, all winding up happily.
TOM LOSELY: BOY. By REV. J.E. COPUS, S.J. Illustrated. The writer
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MORE FIVE O'CLOCK STORIES. By S.H. C.J. "The children who are
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JACK O'LANTERN. By MARY T. WAGGAMAN. This book is alive with
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THE BERKLEYS. By EMMA HOWARD WIGHT. A truly inspiring tale, full of
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LITTLE MISSY. By MARY T. WAGGAMAN. A charming story for children
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TOM'S LUCK-POT. By MARY T. WAGGAMAN. Full of fun and charming
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CHILDREN OF CUPA. By MARY E. MANNIX. One of the most thoroughly
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FOR THE WHITE ROSE. By KATHARINE T. HINKSON. This book is something
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written.
THE DOLLAR HUNT. From the French by E.G. MARTIN. Those who wish to
get a _fascinating_ tale should read this story.
THE VIOLIN MAKER. From the original of OTTO V. SCHACHING, by SARA
TRAINER SMITH. There is much truth in this simple little story.
"JACK." By S.H. C.J. As loving and lovable a little fellow as there
is in the world is "Jack," the "pickle," the "ragamuffin," the
defender of persecuted kittens and personal principles.
A SUMMER AT WOODVILLE. By ANNA T. SADLIER. This is a beautiful book,
in full sympathy with and delicately expressive of the author's
creations.
DADDY DAN. By MARY T. WAGGAMAN. This is a rattling good story for
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THE BELL FOUNDRY. By OTTO V. SCHACHING. So interesting that the
reader will find difficulty in tearing himself away.
TOORALLADDY. By JULIA C. WALSH. An exciting story of the varied
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Library of Novels No. I
THE RULER OF THE KINGDOM. By GRACE KEON. "Will charm any reader."
KIND HEARTS AND CORONETS. By J. HARRISON. "A real, true life
history, the kind one could live through and never read it for
romance."
IN THE DAYS OF KING HAL. By MARION A. TAGGART. Illustrated. "A tale
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HEARTS OF GOLD. By I. EDHOR. "It is a tale that will leave its
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THE HEIRESS OF CRONENSTEIN. By COUNTESS HAHN-HAHN. "An exquisite
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THE PILKINGTON HEIR. By ANNA T. SADLIER. "Skill and strength are
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THE OTHER MISS LISLE. A Catholic novel of South African life. By
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IDOLS; OR, THE SECRET OF THE RUE CHAUSSEE D'ANTIN. By RAOUL DE
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THE VOCATION OF EDWARD CONWAY. By MAURICE F. EGAN. "This is a novel
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A WOMAN OF FORTUNE. By CHRISTIAN REID. "That great American Catholic
novel for which so much inquiry is made, a story true in its picture
of Americans at home and abroad."
PASSING SHADOWS. By ANTHONY YORKE. "A thoroughly charming story. It
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Library of Novels No. II
THE SENIOR LIEUTENANT'S WAGER, and Other Stories. 30 stories by 30
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A DAUGHTER OF KINGS. By KATHARINE TYNAN HINKSON. "The book is most
enjoyable."
THE WAY THAT LED BEYOND. By J. HARRISON. "The story does not drag,
the plot is well worked out, and the interest endures to the very
last page."
CORINNE'S VOW. By MARY T. WAGGAMAN. With 16 full-page illustrations.
"There is genuine artistic merit in its plot and life-story. It is
full of vitality and action."
THE FATAL BEACON. By F.V. BRACKEL. "The story is told well and
clearly, and has a certain charm that will be found interesting. The
principal characters are simple, good-hearted people, and the
heroine's high sense of courage impresses itself upon the reader as
the tale proceeds."
THE MONK'S PARDON: An Historical Romance of the Time of Philip IV.
of Spain. By RAOUL DE NAVERY. "A story full of stirring incidents
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PERE MONNIER'S WARD. By WALTER LECKY. "The characters are life-like
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Monnier is a memory that will linger."
TRUE STORY OF MASTER GERARD. By ANNA T. SADLIER. "One of the most
thoroughly original and delightful romances ever evolved from the
pen of a Catholic writer."
THE UNRAVELING OF A TANGLE. By MARION A. TAGGART. With four
full-page illustrations. "This story tells of the adventures of a
young American girl, who, in order to get possession of a fortune
left her by an uncle, whom she had never seen, goes to France."
THAT MAN'S DAUGHTER. By HENRY M. ROSS. "A well-told story of
American life, the scene laid in Boston, New York and California. It
is very interesting."
FABIOLA'S SISTER. (A companion volume to Cardinal Wiseman's
"Fabiola.") Adapted by A.C. CLARKE. "A book to read--a worthy sequel
to that masterpiece, 'Fabiola.'"
THE OUTLAW OF CAMARGUE: A Novel. By A. DE LAMOTHE. "A capital novel
with plenty of go in it."
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Library of Novels No. III
"NOT A JUDGMENT." By GRACE KEON. "Beyond doubt the best Catholic
novel of the year."
THE RED INN OF ST. LYPHAR. By ANNA T. SADLIER. "A story of stirring
times in France, when the sturdy Vendeans rose in defence of country
and religion."
HER FATHER'S DAUGHTER. By KATHARINE TYNAN HINKSON. "So dramatic and
so intensely interesting that the reader, will find it difficult to
tear himself away from the story."
OUT OF BONDAGE. By M. HOLT. "Once his book becomes known it will be
read by a great many."
MARCELLA GRACE. By ROSA MULHOLLAND. Mr. Gladstone called this novel
_a masterpiece_.
THE CIRCUS-RIDER'S DAUGHTER. By F. V. BRACKEL. This work has
achieved a remarkable success for a Catholic novel, for in less than
a year three editions were printed.
CARROLL DARE. By MARY T. WAGGAMAN. Illustrated. "A thrilling story,
with the dash of horses and the clash of swords on every side."
DION AND THE SIBYLS. By MILES KEON. "Dion is as brilliantly, as
accurately and as elegantly classical, as scholarly in style and
diction, as fascinating in plot and as vivid in action as Ben Hur."
HER BLIND FOLLY. By H. M. ROSS. A clever story with an interesting
and well-managed plot and many striking situations.
MISS ERIN. By M. E. FRANCIS. "A captivating tale of Irish life,
redolent of genuine Celtic wit, love and pathos."
MR. BILLY BUTTONS. By WALTER LECKY. "The figures who move in rugged
grandeur through these pages are as fresh and unspoiled in their way
as the good folk of Drumtochty."
CONNOR D'ARCY'S STRUGGLES. By MRS. W. M. BERTHOLDS. "A story of
which the spirit is so fine and the Catholic characters so nobly
conceived."
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End of Project Gutenberg's 'As Gold in the Furnace', by John E. Copus