"MY OWN IRENE!"
Irene went up to bed that night in her usual spirits. She longed for the
moment when she could, as usual, kiss little Agnes; but she was extra
tired, for she had passed a stimulating day, and had been on her best
behavior. She felt quite happy, and wondered if her mother, when her
allotted time at the Merrimans' was over, would send her and little
Agnes and Rosamund to another school somewhere else. She liked the
excitement of school-life, and thought that if she could find a home
where there was no girl like Lucy she would be perfectly happy. She
little knew that in all schools there are girls of the Lucy type, who
are not amiable, whose faults are far worse than those of ordinary
wildness or even ordinary disobedience. But on this occasion she felt
almost kindly toward Lucy, who nodded to her and said, "You and Agnes
must make the most of yourselves together, for you will miss Rosamund."
"Oh! we'll be quite happy together," said Irene, with a careless nod;
and then she went up to her room, opened the door gently, shut it
quietly behind her, and shading the candle with one hand, went over to
little Agnes's bed.
There was no Agnes there. But a huge hedgehog had curled itself up in a
ball close to the pillow where the little delicate head had been
pressed. Irene was afraid of no living creature, and she recognized the
hedgehog at once. She took it up and laid it on the window-sill. Then
she looked round her. Her face was white as death; her teeth chattered.
She suddenly left the room and went straight to Lucy's. She opened the
door without knocking.
"Lucy!" she said.
"What is it?" said Lucy, who was brushing out her long fair hair.
"Did you put a hedgehog into Agnes's bed?"
"Certainly not," said Lucy.
"Well, some one did as a trick, and the child isn't there."
"The child isn't there? There's only one person who could do that sort
of thing, and that is yourself, as you know very well," said Lucy. "But
is the child nowhere in the room?"
"You come and look for her, will you?" said Irene. Her tone and manner
had completely altered. She was forcing herself to use self-control. Had
Fuzz and Buzz, and Thunder and Lightning, and the Stars been present at
that moment, there is not the least doubt that Irene would have elected
them to wreak their vengeance on Lucy; but she was keeping herself in
for all she was worth at the present moment, for after all even Lucy did
not much matter--it was little Agnes who mattered.
"Here's the hedgehog," said Irene when they entered her bedroom--"a
great big one--and some one had put it into the little one's bed, and
she's not there, and you know how timid she is. Where is she? You know I
didn't do it. Is it likely I'd do it to one I love?"
"Oh! you're a sort of fairy--a changeling," said Lucy. "And you have
done such things to other people. Why shouldn't you do it to her?
Anyhow, who else in the house can be accused? Every one knows your
character."
"Never mind about my character now. I know, I am positive, that you are
at the bottom of this. But the thing is to find little Agnes. I must go
at once to Mrs. Merriman."
"I wonder where she can be?" said Lucy, who had not expected for a
moment that little Agnes would disappear. "She must have gone to one of
the other girls' rooms. We will go to all the others and find out. Of
course, I am sorry for you, Irene; but really you went too far when you
made use of a hedgehog--such a horrid, frightening thing."
"I don't want your help. I'll go myself," said Irene.
She pushed past Lucy, and going down the corridor, entered each room.
Each girl was asked where little Agnes Frost was. Each girl replied that
she did not know. It was Phyllis Flower, however, who, in excitement and
pallor, started from an uneasy dream.
"Little Agnes?" she said. "But she can't have gone out!"
"It seems to me you know something about this. Will you help me to find
her?" said Irene.
Then, all in a minute, for some reason which she could never define,
little Phyllis sprang to her feet hastily, put on her clothes, and
without even glancing at Lucy, took Irene's hand.
"We'll search the house first," she said.
"Then you don't think I did such a cruel thing?" said Irene.
"Oh, don't ask me! I mean--oh, no, no! But I'll help you to find her.
I'll do my best--my very best."
The whole house was awakened, and the alarm given. The Professor was not
yet in bed. He was very much worried and annoyed. He directly told Irene
that he believed she was guilty of giving her little companion a fright.
"You have done it so often before, you know," he said, "that people
certainly do suspect you."
"Suspect me or not as you please," she answered, "but let us find little
Agnes. The night is cold; there is sleet falling outside. It will turn
to snow before morning. Where is the child? After all," she continued,
speaking more like a grown woman than the wild sort of creature that she
had been a few months ago, "she is under your charge, Professor
Merriman, and you are bound to do your utmost to find her."
But nowhere in the house--not even in the cellars, which Lucy as a last
resort suggested might possibly be her hiding-place--could little Agnes
be found. At last a regular outdoor search was instituted. Lucy was now
really frightened, although she would not own this feeling even to
herself.
"Silly, tiresome child!" she kept muttering to herself.
As to Irene, not a single word passed her lips. Suddenly, in the midst
of the searchers, she was missing. People wondered where she had gone
to. Irene had rushed back to her own room, the room where she and little
Agnes had been so happy together. She looked at the little white bed
where they had lain in each other's arms. All her past, so cruel, so
thoughtless, so selfish, was borne in upon her. She dropped on her
knees, and in an agony of terror said aloud, "O God, help me to find
her, and to be a good girl in future."
Then Irene felt a wonderful sense of calm. She went down again through
the house. No one noticed her, for every one was in a great state of
alarm. Those girls who were in bed were desired not to get up; but a
good many had disobeyed orders, and Miss Archer, Mademoiselle Omont
(gesticulating wildly), Professor Merriman, his wife, the servants, and
the older girls were all searching in vain for Agnes. They were calling
her name, but no one thought of the bower at the far end of the
shrubbery; for what child would be likely to take refuge there?
Irene, however, all of a sudden remembered it. She remembered the night
long ago when she, a wild little untamed creature, had crept into the
room where Rosamund slept, had forced her to come out with her, and they
had spent the night together in the bower. She would go there now. She
did not know what guided her footsteps, but she felt sure some one did.
Now, the shrubbery, a delightful place in warm weather, was damp and
cold as ice at this time of the year. The leaves, now falling thickly
from the trees, lay sodden on the ground. Sleet continued to fall
heavily from the sky. All the seekers were chilled to the very bone, and
the bower, so charming in summer, so perfect a resort, so happy a
hiding-place, was now the very essence of desolation. But Irene cared
nothing for that. She cared nothing for the fact that her thin shoes
were soaked through and through, that her dress hung closely round her,
that her hat was bent forward over her eyes. She only wanted to find
little Agnes, and to have her love again. In the bower Irene did find
the child crouched up in one corner, terrified, an almost unseeing
expression in her eyes. Irene rushed to her with a glad cry.
"My darling! my darling! Oh, my own sweet little darling, come to your
own Irene!"
But Agnes gave a shriek of terror when she saw her.
"No, no! Keep away! It's you who did it! You don't love me! No, no, I
won't come to you!"
The piercing shrieks that came from the poor little girl's lips brought
the rest of the party to the scene. When they appeared, Professor
Merriman holding a lantern, they saw Agnes crouched in the farthest
corner of the bower, her eyes semi-conscious, her face deadly white with
terror, while Irene stood a little way off.
"Some one has turned her brain. Take her; do what you can with her,"
said Irene; and she walked away, not caring where she went.
They brought little Agnes back, and of course they sent for the doctor.
The doctor stayed all night, for he said the child had received some
very severe and terrible shock. Mrs. Merriman nursed her, and the next
day, as soon as possible, Miss Frost returned.
But neither Miss Frost, nor the doctor, nor any one else could ease the
terrors which had laid hold of the brain of little Agnes. She believed
Miss Frost to be a sort of magnified Irene. The very name of Irene was
enough to set her screaming again. She called Irene a fairy, a
changeling, and nothing could soothe her or comfort her.
At last one day the doctor spoke to Mrs. Merriman.
"The case is quite a serious one," he said. "I cannot imagine what has
happened to the child. You ought to find out who put that hedgehog in
her bed. Hedgehogs are quite harmless in their way; but they would give
a timid child a very nasty fright, which she evidently got."
"What we fear is that Irene did it. She has done all sorts of tricks of
that kind before now. You remember how poor Miss Frost went to you on a
certain occasion."
"Alas! that is true. But compared to this, her sin against poor Miss
Frost was innocence itself. Such a timid, gentle, confiding little
creature as this! And then report says that she was so devoted to Irene,
and that Irene was so changed."
Yes, indeed, Irene was changed, and the great change lay now in the fact
that she did not say a word or admit her suffering to any one; but sat
moody and silent, scarcely attending to her lessons, indifferent to bad
marks, without the least vestige of spirit, with no desire to injure any
one. Even Lucy could not provoke a retort from her lips. Whenever she
was allowed to, she stole outside little Agnes's door to listen to her
mutterings, and to wonder and wonder if the child was to die.
"If she dies I shall go mad," thought the miserable girl, "for she has
not only been frightened, but she has been turned against me. Who could
have done it?"
Miss Frost had returned; Rosamund had also come back (her father was
better); but the key to the mystery was still missing. Irene declared
positively to Rosamund that she had nothing to do with the fright that
little Agnes had received; but no one could explain how the hedgehog had
got into the child's bed. Some one suggested that it had crawled in by
itself, but this was repudiated as absolutely impossible. Somebody had
put it there, and no doubt with evil intent. Rosamund thought a good
deal over the matter. She thought so much that at last she came to a
certain conclusion.
Little Agnes still lay between life and death, and death came nearer and
nearer to the little, weakened frame each moment and each hour. Then
Rosamund determined to take the doctor into her confidence. She waylaid
him as he came downstairs.
"Dr. Marshall," she said, "may I speak to you for a minute?"
"Certainly, Miss Cunliffe," he replied.
Rosamund took him into one of the sitting-rooms. She closed the door
behind them and bolted it.
"Why do you do that?" he said.
"Because I am not sure of things. I want to take you into my confidence,
and I don't want any one to hear."
"Well, Miss Cunliffe, you must be brief."
"First of all, may I ask you what you think of little Agnes? Is she in
danger?"
"Undoubtedly she is in danger."
"Is she so much in danger that she is likely to die?"
"Unless she gets better soon, unless the strange pressure on her brain
is removed, she will die," said the doctor. "The shock has been much
more severe than any one could have believed possible, even from such an
ugly thing occurring. But, be that as it may, she is in extreme danger
of her life."
"Thank you," said Rosamund.
"Then you don't want to say anything more?"
"I don't think I do."
"I will come in again to-night. The child's case is interesting. She is
a dear little creature."
The doctor went away, and Rosamund entered the schoolroom. The girls
were trying to perform their usual tasks. Irene was bending over a
history-book. There was such a sadness now pervading the house, such a
necessary stillness, that all life seemed to have gone out of it. The
wintry weather continued, and it was as gloomy outside as in. Miss
Archer was in vain explaining a rather interesting point in English
history, to which no one was attending much, when Rosamund entered the
room. All the girls seemed to feel that she had news.
She had. She marched up to the top of the room and stood there. Irene
only raised her head; but Lucy, who was pale and had black shadows under
her eyes, and Phyllis Flower, who had certainly looked far from well for
the last fortnight, glanced at her with considerable interest.
"I have something to say," said Rosamund.
There was a dead silence for a moment; then Miss Archer said, "I am
giving my history lecture, my dear."
"You will postpone it, for life--human life--is more precious than facts
in old history," said Rosamund.
"Certainly, my dear," said Miss Archer in quite a meek voice; and she
sat down and prepared to listen with as much interest as the others.
"It is this," said Rosamund. "Little Agnes Frost--I have just seen the
doctor--is most dangerously ill." Phyllis Flower gave a gasp. "I won't
go into the particulars of her illness; but the doctor says that unless
a certain load of terror can be immediately removed from her mind she
will die. Yes, she will die. Now, girls, it is quite plain to me, as it
is doubtless to all of you, that a most cruel practical joke was played
on little Agnes. Some people can stand practical jokes; some people
cannot. But those who are cruel enough to exercise them upon little
children are really too contemptible even to be spoken about. I wish
this girl or that girl joy who knows that she may be the cause of the
death of so sweet a child as Agnes Frost."
Irene lifted a face of agony. She struggled to speak, but no words came.
"You most of you think," continued Rosamund, who had watched Irene, and
saw the look on her face, "that my friend Irene Ashleigh is the guilty
person; but I am quite as certain as I am standing here that she is not.
I have watched Irene for some time; and although she did all kinds of
naughty things--very naughty things--months ago, she has abstained from
anything of the kind for some time. In short, I believe her to be
innocent, and I am going to ask her a direct question to that effect.
Now, I shall believe her word, for with all her sins she never told a
lie yet. Irene, were you the cause of Agnes Frost's terrible shock?"
"I was not," said Irene stoutly. She stood up as she spoke, and Rosamund
went up and took her hand.
"Then some one else has done it. I believe Irene's word."
"And so do I," said Laura Everett.
"And so do I," said Annie Millar.
"And I also," exclaimed Agnes Sparkes.
But Phyllis Flower and Lucy Merriman were silent.
"Phyllis, what is your opinion?" said Rosamund suddenly. "Don't hesitate
now. If you or any one else in this school has been tempted to commit a
dastardly and wicked deed, don't let the thought that you may have
caused a child to die rest on your conscience for all your days. You
will be miserable. Had you or had you not anything to do with the fright
which little Agnes received?"
"Oh!" said Phyllis; and she suddenly left her seat and fell on her
knees. She covered her face with her hands; she swayed backwards and
forwards. "Oh, I know--I know! I can't help myself. I did it."
"You did it--you?" said Rosamund sternly.
"Phyllis!" cried Lucy.
"Phyllis, you must speak up. The child's life is at stake. You must
speak out and tell the truth."
"Then I will," said Lucy in a defiant tone. "I didn't know you were such
a coward, Phyllis."
"Yes, I was a coward," said Phyllis. "I will tell my part of it. I did
want a week in London, and I was tempted, and I put the hedgehog into
Agnes's bed."
"You yourself did that? You did that yourself--alone?"
"That is all I am going to tell."
"Then I will tell the rest," exclaimed Lucy. "I made her do it. I was
jealous of you, Rosamund, and I always hated you, and I was even more
jealous of that horrid Irene and her love for Agnes. I only thought that
I would punish her and you by taking Agnes away from her, and I think I
have succeeded; but I never thought it would make Agnes ill. I am very,
very, very sorry for that;" and, to the surprise of everybody, Lucy, the
proud, the haughty, the reserved, burst into tears.
No one took much notice of her tears, for all eyes were fixed on Irene
and the strange look which was filling her face. After a pause she went
straight up to Lucy and took her hand.
"Lucy, will you come with me upstairs?"
"What do you want me to do?" said Lucy, in great astonishment.
"I want you to come with me, that is all."
"But why?"
"If you are at all sorry, will you come? There isn't a minute to lose."
"Yes, go with her--go for heaven's sake!" said Rosamund; and Lucy found
herself going.
They went up the softly carpeted stairs and down the silent corridor,
and then the two girls paused before a door which was partly ajar. The
room was darkened, and Miss Frost was sitting by a little bed, and a
little voice kept on crying suddenly, "Oh, there never was any Irene,
there never was any Irene, and I loved her so! I loved her so! But she
was a fairy, and the fairies took her back again, and--and--oh, I want
to die! I want to die!"
The little hot hands were stretched outside the bedclothes, the
beautiful dark eyes were open wide, and just at that moment Irene, very
pale, still holding Lucy's hand, entered the room. Miss Frost stood up
in speechless horror.
"Do sit down again, Miss Frost," said Irene; and she went straight up to
little Agnes, who, to the astonishment of every one, no longer shrank
from her, but, on the contrary, allowed her to hold one of her hands.
Irene then turned to Lucy.
"Lucy," she said, "speak the truth now this minute, and I will forgive
you."
"It was I who did it," said Lucy. "Go to sleep, and forget all about it.
Irene isn't a changeling at all, and she never had anything to do with
the fairies. I was jealous because you loved her and only her, and I
wanted you to hate her, and I got Phyllis Flower to help me, and we put
the hedgehog into your bed; but we didn't guess--we couldn't
guess--that it would make you so ill."
Little Agnes looked with wide eyes at the speaker.
"Go away now," said Irene. "I think she understands. You go away also,
Frosty. Please, please go!"
Miss Frost and Lucy found themselves impelled to leave the room, while
Irene lay down on the bed beside the little girl, and taking both her
hands, held them fast and whispered softly in the little ear:
"I am no changeling, but your own Irene, and I would rather die than
injure one hair of your head. Come close, darling; come close. It wasn't
I, but another, and I am no changeling."
"Oh, my own Irene! My own, own Irene!" whispered the little voice; and
then it grew fainter, and there came a smile on the tiny face, and in a
few minutes' time the tired bright eyes closed, and the child slept.
When the doctor came that evening little Agnes was still sleeping, and
Irene was still holding her hands. The fever was going down moment by
moment. The doctor came in and said "Hush!" and whispered to Irene that
she must on no account stir. She must be close to little Agnes, when she
woke, and he himself would stay in the room, for the child would be very
weak; but doubtless the fever would have left her. He was much puzzled
to account for the change; but Rosamund was the one to enlighten him.
She just told him that some very mischievous girls had played a trick,
but she mentioned no names. For Lucy seemed really broken-hearted; and
as to Phyllis Flower, she had cried so hard that her eyes were scarcely
visible.
About midnight little Agnes woke in her right mind. She saw Irene, and
lifting a tiny white hand, she stroked her cheek.
"I have had a very bad dream; but I don't seem to remember anything,"
she said.
"Only that you are with me," said Irene; "and you will be with me all my
life--won't you, little darling?"
By slow degrees little Agnes got well, and when she was well enough she
and Irene and Rosamund left the school; and from that day, as far as I
can tell, Irene has been a changed character: thoughtful though
spirited, beautiful, talented, but with much consideration for others,
and the comfort and joy of her mother's heart. But the one she loves
best on earth is the one whom she calls her own little Agnes.
THE END.
Other books by A. L. BURT COMPANY
* * * * *
Marjorie Dean College Series
BY PAULINE LESTER.
Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean High School Series.
Those who have read the Marjorie Dean High School Series will be eager
to read this new series, as Marjorie Dean continues to be the heroine in
these stories.
All Cloth bound. Copyright Titles.
MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE FRESHMAN
MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE SOPHOMORE
MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE JUNIOR
MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE SENIOR
* * * * *
Marjorie Dean High School Series
BY PAULINE LESTER
Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean College Series
These are clean, wholesome stories that will be of great interest to all
girls of high school age.
All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles
MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL FRESHMAN
MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL SOPHOMORE
MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR
MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL SENIOR
* * * * *
The Camp Fire Girls Series
By HILDEGARD G. FREY
A Series of Outdoor Stories for Girls 12 to 16 Years.
All Cloth Bound. Copyright Titles
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN THE MAINE WOODS;
or, The Winnebagos go Camping.
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT SCHOOL;
or, The Wohelo Weavers.
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT ONOWAY HOUSE;
or, The Magic Garden.
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS GO MOTORING;
or, Along the Road That Leads the Way.
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' LARKS AND PRANKS;
or, The House of the Open Door.
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON ELLEN'S ISLE;
or, The Trail of the Seven Cedars.
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON THE OPEN ROAD;
or, Glorify Work.
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS DO THEIR BIT;
or, Over the Top with the Winnebagos.
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS SOLVE A MYSTERY;
or, The Christmas Adventure at Carver House.
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT CAMP KEEWAYDIN;
or, Down Paddles.
* * * * *
The Girl Scouts Series
BY EDITH LAVELL
A new copyright series of Girl Scouts stories by an author of wide
experience in Scouts' craft, as Director of Girl Scouts of Philadelphia.
Clothbound, with Attractive Color Designs.
THE GIRL SCOUTS AT MISS ALLEN'S SCHOOL
THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP
THE GIRL SCOUTS' GOOD TURN
THE GIRL SCOUTS' CANOE TRIP
THE GIRL SCOUTS' RIVALS
* * * * *
The Golden Boys Series
BY L. P. WYMAN, PH.D.
Dean of Pennsylvania Military College.
A new series of instructive copyright stories for boys of High School
Age.
Handsome Cloth Binding.
THE GOLDEN BOYS AND THEIR NEW ELECTRIC CELL
THE GOLDEN BOYS AT THE FORTRESS
THE GOLDEN BOYS IN THE MAINE WOODS
THE GOLDEN BOYS WITH THE LUMBER JACKS
THE GOLDEN BOYS ON THE RIVER DRIVE
* * * * *
The Radio Boys Series
BY GERALD BRECKENRIDGE
A new series of copyright titles for boys of all ages.
Cloth Bound, with Attractive Cover Designs
THE RADIO BOYS ON THE MEXICAN BORDER
THE RADIO BOYS ON SECRET SERVICE DUTY
THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE REVENUE GUARDS
THE RADIO BOYS' SEARCH FOR THE INCA'S TREASURE
THE RADIO BOYS RESCUE THE LOST ALASKA EXPEDITION
* * * * *
The Boy Troopers Series
BY CLAIR W. HAYES
Author of the Famous "Boy Allies" Series.
The adventures of two boys with the Pennsylvania State Police.
All Copyrighted Titles.
Cloth Bound, with Attractive Cover Designs.
THE BOY TROOPERS ON THE TRAIL
THE BOY TROOPERS IN THE NORTHWEST
THE BOY TROOPERS ON STRIKE DUTY
THE BOY TROOPERS AMONG THE WILD MOUNTAINEERS
* * * * *
The Ranger Boys Series
BY CLAUDE H. LA BELLE
A new series of copyright titles telling of the adventures of three boys
with the Forest Rangers in the state of Maine.
Handsome Cloth Binding.
THE RANGER BOYS TO THE RESCUE
THE RANGER BOYS FIND THE HERMIT
THE RANGER BOYS AND THE BORDER SMUGGLERS
THE RANGER BOYS OUTWIT THE TIMBER THIEVES
THE RANGER BOYS AND THEIR REWARD
* * * * *
The Jack Lorimer Series
BY WINN STANDISH
For Boys 12 to 16 Years.
All Cloth Bound. Copyright Titles
CAPTAIN JACK LORIMER; or, The Young Athlete of Millvale High.
Jack Lorimer is a fine example of the all-around American
high-school boys. His fondness for clean, honest
sport of all kinds will strike a chord of sympathy among
athletic youths.
JACK LORIMER'S CHAMPIONS; or, Sports on Land and Lake.
There is a lively story woven in with the athletic achievements,
which are all right, since the book has been O. K'd
by Chadwick, the Nestor of American Sporting journalism.
JACK LORIMER'S HOLIDAYS; or, Millvale High in Camp.
It would be well not to put this book into a boy's hands
until the chores are finished, otherwise they might be
neglected.
JACK LORIMER'S SUBSTITUTE; or, The Acting Captain of
the Team.
On the sporting side, this book takes up football, wrestling,
and tobogganing. There is a good deal of fun in this book
and plenty of action.
JACK LORIMER, FRESHMAN; or, From Millvale High to Exmouth.
Jack and some friends he makes crowd innumerable happenings
into an exciting freshman year at one of the leading
Eastern colleges. The book is typical of the American
college boy's life, and there is a lively story, interwoven
with feats on the gridiron, hockey, basketball and other
clean honest sports for which Jack Lorimer stands.
* * * * *
Our Young Aeroplane Scout Series
(Registered in the United States Patent Office)
BY HORACE PORTER
For Boys 12 to 16 Years.
All Cloth Bound. Copyright Titles
A Series of Remarkable Stories of the Adventures of Two Boy Flyers in
The European War Zone.
OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN FRANCE AND BELGIUM;
or, Saving The Fortunes of the Trouvilles.
OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN GERMANY.
OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN RUSSIA;
or, Lost on the Frozen Steppes.
OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN TURKEY;
or, Bringing the Light to Yusef.
OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN ENGLAND;
or, Twin Stars in the London Sky Patrol.
OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN ITALY;
or, Flying with the War Eagles of the Alps.
OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS AT VERDUN;
or, Driving Armored Meteors Over Flaming Battle Fronts.
OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN THE BALKANS;
or, Wearing the Red Badge of Courage Among Warring Legions.
OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN THE WAR ZONE;
or, Serving Uncle Sam In the Great Cause of the Allies.
OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS FIGHTING TO THE FINISH;
or Striking Hard Over the Sea for the Stars and Stripes.
OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS AT THE MARNE;
or, Hurrying the Huns from Allied Battle Planes.
OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN AT THE VICTORY;
or, Speedy High Flyers Smashing the Hindenburg Line.
* * * * *
The Boy Allies
(Registered in the United States Patent Office)
With the Navy BY ENSIGN ROBERT L. DRAKE
For Boys 12 to 16 Years.
All Cloth Bound. Copyright Titles
Frank Chadwick and Jack Templeton, young American lads, meet each other
in an unusual way soon after the declaration of war. Circumstances place
them on board the British cruiser, "The Sylph," and from there on, they
share adventures with the sailors of the Allies. Ensign Robert L. Drake,
the author, is an experienced naval officer, and he describes admirably
the many exciting adventures of the two boys.
THE BOY ALLIES ON THE NORTH SEA PATROL;
or, Striking the First Blow at the German Fleet.
THE BOY ALLIES UNDER TWO FLAGS;
or, Sweeping the Enemy from the Sea.
THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE FLYING SQUADRON;
or, The Naval Raiders of the Great War.
THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE TERROR OF THE SEA;
or, The Last Shot of Submarine D-16.
THE BOY ALLIES UNDER THE SEA;
or, The Vanishing Submarine.
THE BOY ALLIES IN THE BALTIC;
or, Through Fields of Ice to Aid the Czar.
THE BOY ALLIES AT JUTLAND;
or, The Greatest Naval Battle of History.
THE BOY ALLIES WITH UNCLE SAM'S CRUISERS;
or, Convoying the American Army Across the Atlantic.
THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE SUBMARINE D-32;
or, The Fall of the Russian Empire.
THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE VICTORIOUS FLEETS;
or, The Fall of the German Navy.
* * * * *
The Boy Allies
(Registered in the United States Patent Office)
With the Army BY CLAIR W. HAYES
For Boys 12 to 16 Years.
All Cloth Bound. Copyright Titles
In this series we follow the fortunes of two American lads unable to
leave Europe after war is declared. They meet the soldiers of the
Allies, and decide to cast their lot with them. Their experiences and
escapes are many, and furnish plenty of good, healthy action that every
boy loves.
THE BOY ALLIES AT LIEGE;
or, Through Lines of Steel.
THE BOY ALLIES ON THE FIRING LINE;
or, Twelve Days Battle Along the Marne.
THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE COSSACKS;
or, A Wild Dash Over the Carpathians.
THE BOY ALLIES IN THE TRENCHES;
or, Midst Shot and Shell Along the Aisne.
THE BOY ALLIES IN GREAT PERIL;
or, With the Italian Army in the Alps.
THE BOY ALLIES IN THE BALKAN CAMPAIGN;
or, The Struggle to Save a Nation.
THE BOY ALLIES ON THE SOMME;
or, Courage and Bravery Rewarded.
THE BOY ALLIES AT VERDUN;
or, Saving France from the Enemy.
THE BOY ALLIES UNDER THE STARS AND STRIPES;
or, Leading the American Troops to the Firing Line.
THE BOY ALLIES WITH HAIG IN FLANDERS;
or, The Fighting Canadians of Vimy Ridge.
THE BOY ALLIES WITH PERSHING IN FRANCE;
or, Over the Top at Chateau Thierry.
THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE GREAT ADVANCE;
or, Driving the Enemy Through France and Belgium.
THE BOY ALLIES WITH MARSHAL FOCH;
or, The Closing Days of the Great World War.