CHAPTER XXIV._The Motor Rangers on Blue Water; or, The Secret of the Derelict

THE LAST OF THE "NETTIE NELSEN."--CONCLUSION.

But they had little time to brood over their misfortune. Hardly had

they made the discovery, in fact, before Captain Akers gave a low

exclamation and pointed seaward. At first the boys could see nothing

but peculiar, wispy-looking clouds floating near the horizon.

But even in the short time they gazed the clouds became larger.

"Is bad weather coming?" asked Nat uneasily.

"Yes, my lad, it is," was the grave reply. "Those clouds yonder look

to me like the forerunners of a typhoon."

"Good gracious!" exclaimed Nat, "and this boat is overloaded as it

is. What are we to do?"

"My advice is to skirt along the coast till we find a place to land

and then run the boat ashore."

"But the shore may be swarming with savages," objected Nat.

The captain shrugged his shoulders.

"Can't be helped, my lad," he said, "and, after all, we stand a

better chance with the savages than we do in this boat in a typhoon."

They could not help admitting that this seemed true. In even a

moderate gale the lightly built collapsible craft would not last

long. In one of the savage typhoons of Polynesia she would be sunk

like a stone.

No time was lost therefore in getting out the oars and starting to

pull along the coast. Acting on Captain Akers' recommendation, they

kept close in to the shore. But they were not rewarded by the sight

of any good landing place. On the contrary, Ohdahmi--like the other

islands of the Marquesas Group--rose precipitately from the water,

the cliffs towering steeply up from the surface of the sea.

"What is that peculiar looking object over there?" asked Nat suddenly.

He indicated a black thing bobbing about on the water. It was not so

very far distant from the boat and they all gazed at it with interest.

"It's a barrel!" exclaimed Captain Akers presently, "and--really this

is very curious--it has two smaller barrels attached to each side so

as to keep it upright. If it wasn't that bad weather may be on us at

any moment, I'd like to look into this thing."

"It certainly looks peculiar," admitted Nat. "Hark!" he broke off

suddenly. "I can hear somebody singing!"

Sure enough, there came borne to their ears the sound of a song,

intoned in a not over musical voice:

"My bonnie lies over the oc-e-a-n!

My bonnie lies ov-er the sea!

My bonnie lies ov-er the ocean!

O-ho-o, bring back my bonnie to me!"

"Where on earth is it coming from?" gasped Nat, glancing about. He

half suspected that Ding-dong might be playing a trick. But no, the

stuttering lad's face was puzzled as the countenances of the others.

"It's coming from that barrel!"

The words came from Captain Akers.

"Impossible!" cried Nat.

"I'm not so sure about that," struck in Cal. "I've got purty good

ears, an' it certainly seems to me that the singing is coming frum

that keg."

"Ahoy there!" shouted the captain, determined to put an end to the

mystery once and for all. "Who are you in that keg?"

"Ahoy!" came back the answer in ringing tone, though somewhat

muffled. "I'm Sam Hinckley, a marooned sailor. Who----"

But Sam got no further. With vigorous strokes the boat was pulled

alongside, while the Motor Rangers and their chums shot out volleys

of questions. The barrel was quickly secured alongside and the top,

after some difficulty, broken in with an oar butt.

The next instant Sam, rather pale and wan looking, but otherwise

seemingly not much the worse for his ordeal, emerged from it. As

soon as he was somewhat recovered, and the boat once more under way,

he related his story. As they had suspected, the placing of Sam in

the barrel had been one of Morello's devices and came about in this

way.

After Captain Akers and Cal had left the "Nomad" in search of the

lads, Sam and Captain Nelsen took watch and watch about, waiting for

something to transpire.

Sam was on watch in the early morning when, through the darkness, he

saw the dark outline of the schooner--which, it will be recalled, had

slipped out of the landlocked lake--heading toward them. Presently

she came to anchor and stopped. A boat was lowered and several men,

all armed fully, clambered into it.

In the meantime, Sam had summoned Captain Nelsen from his berth. But

the veteran mariner was as unable as Sam to devise a means of coping

with the situation. His advice was not to resist, which, in the long

run, would have been useless, but to cut and run for it. In

accordance with this resolve, Sam went below, while Captain Nelsen

got up anchor.

The next instant the "Nomad" was moving swiftly through the water,

while a howl of rage went up from the baffled occupants of Morello's

boat. But, having started his engines, Sam could not resist the

temptation to run astern and shake a fist at the rascals. In doing

this he had lost his balance, and before he could utter a cry, or

even make a sound, he was overboard.

In the meantime, Captain Nelsen, who was at the wheel of the "Nomad,"

and supposed Sam was still below at his engines, kept right on. When

he came to the surface Sam found that the "Nomad" was some distance

off and Morello's boat close upon him. The next instant hands

reached out for him from the craft and he was dragged on board, and,

on his shouting to attract Nelsen's attention, was promptly knocked

on the head.

He came to in the cabin of the schooner and here, as Sam said, he got

a shock. Bending over him was the form of a man he knew only too

well. That of Elias Gooddale.

"But Elias Gooddale is dead in California!" exclaimed Nat.

"True enough," rejoined Sam, "the real one is. But this Gooddale is

a spurious one. It is time now that I should tell you what I have

been meaning to since we set out on our trip. As you know, I came

from the South Sea Islands some years ago. I never told the

reason--it was this: When my father, Elias Gooddale, emigrated to

these islands from Australia I was only a little fellow.

"But to return to the schooner," he broke off. "This Gooddale, as he

calls himself, instantly recognized me and began a long rigmarole

about some sapphires. It seems, to make a long story short, that he

and Morello whom he met years ago in Mexico had come to some sort of

agreement to divide some sapphires. I told them I knew nothing about

them." (This was true. While conversant with the main object of the

trip, Sam had not been told of the sapphire hoard.) "I also told

Gooddale that I wished nothing to say to him; that I knew him to be a

scoundrel. I would have said more, but just then that fellow Dayton

struck in.

"'Head him up in a keg and chuck him overboard,' he said. 'The

fellow is in the way on board and likely to prove a source of trouble

if we don't look out.'

"They seemed to hesitate a while and then consulted together. The

upshot of it was that I was to be placed in that barrel with some

biscuit and water. Holes were pierced in the top and Morello told me

I ought to be lucky to get such a chance for my life.

"Then they placed me in the thing, lowered me overside, and set me

adrift. I was desperate at first, as you may imagine. But afterward

I cooled down and set to work trying to figure out some way out of my

scrape. The better to keep up my spirits, I started to sing. A good

thing I did, too, or you'd have missed me sure."

"Then you are the son of the real Elias Gooddale?" asked Nat

wonderingly, after a pause.

"I am, and I have in my chest the papers to prove it. But I never

would take such steps but for the black treachery of my uncle--my

mother's brother--for such is the relationship of the false Elias

Gooddale to me. His right name is Jonas Meecham. Well, as I said,

when we came out here I was only a little fellow. Father took up

land on Ohdahmi and soon had a flourishing business on his hands.

"Then one day Jonas Meecham arrived. From what I have been able to

gather, father had some secret on his conscience which Jonas Meecham

also knew. At any rate, from what I saw as I grew older, I know that

Meecham bled him for money constantly.

"Not long after I made this discovery poor mother died. I was then

in a terrible position for a youngster, for father was moody and

melancholy and Jonas was cruel and crafty and hated me. One day, it

was after a trading schooner had called at the islands, father was

missing. He left a letter for me, telling me that he had left the

island forever, leaving all he had to Jonas and expressing the hope

that he would never prosper.

"He had gone to seek a new fortune in California, he said. Well,

after he left, Meecham, to avoid complications I suppose, assumed the

name of Elias Gooddale. He was brutal and cruel to me, and one night

I stowed away on a cocoanut schooner and escaped. I drifted about

the islands for some time, learning much of sailoring and boat

building. But all the time my goal was California. I longed to find

my father. In the meantime, I assumed the name of Hinckley, for,

since my uncle took it, my own was hateful to me.

"By the merest chance, as you know, I entered the service of Captain

Akers. In that way I learned from you that you knew positively of

the death of my father."

"And also that he found the fortune for which he was seeking, but

found it too late to do him any good," struck in Nat. "Give me your

hand, Sam. If things work out right, you will be a wealthy man."

"Why--what?" stammered Sam, astonished at the lad's enthusiasm.

"I mean what I say," went on Nat, who had not previously told Sam any

of the details of their adventures. "We have, by an extraordinary

coincidence, been holding in trust for you a fortune."

"A fortune? Where is it?" gasped Sam.

"In the hands of Morello, and----"

"Stand by!" roared Captain Akers. "Here she comes!"

So engrossed had they all been in Sam's narrative that they had not

paid any attention to the threatened storm. But now "here she came,"

as the captain put it, with a vengeance.

A white wall of water rolled toward the boat. It did not seem as if

she could live for an instant.

"Head her up into it!" roared Captain Akers sturdily.

His order was obeyed and the boat, overloaded as she was, rode the

waves bravely, although she shipped considerable water. Following

the first billow, the waves, though high, were not so menacing. But

it was without a doubt only a question of time before the boat must

be overwhelmed.

"Look!" shouted Nat suddenly. "There's a small bay around that point

yonder. Pull for that!"

"Right, my lad. If we're not swamped before we reach it, we can

beach her there in safety," decided the captain.

The boat was headed for the bay. On and on she drove, the waves

raising her heavenward one minute and the next instant dropping her

into a dark abyss of their troughs.

"Hurray! We're almost there!" shouted Nat gleefully as they neared

the beach. But there is many a slip 'twixt cup and lip. Hardly had

the words left his lips before a mighty wave bore down on the

overladen boat. Caught in the avalanche of green water, she sank

like a stone. The next instant her occupants were struggling in the

surf.

Nat struck out for shore, but before he reached it his strength,

already sapped by the adventures of the night and morning, gave out

altogether. But just as the undertow caught him and he was being

dragged back into the boiling vortex of surf, a strong hand seized

him and dragged him to safety.

"Thanks, Sam," choked out the half-drowned boy, recognizing his

rescuer. "You saved my life."

"And if all goes well, you have saved me a fortune," retorted Sam

briskly. "Some time when we have an opportunity I wish you would

tell me the full story of my father's death."

Nat promised. He was glad to see, as he stood on the beach, that all

of the party had landed in safely, although they presented a

bedraggled, miserable appearance.

Luckily Cal, like a seasoned mountaineer, carried some matches in a

waterproof case. He produced these and, collecting driftwood, they

soon had a roaring blaze going in the shelter of a cliff and were

standing about it drying themselves. It was then that Sam heard from

Nat's lips the full narrative of the sapphire find and the strange

adventures that had followed thick and fast. Hardly had he concluded

before, round the point, there came driving through the storm a craft

which they all recognized with a shout as the "Nettie Nelsen."

On she came, fleeing before the storm like some frightened creature.

"My stars!" shouted Captain Akers, as he gazed. "If they don't put

their helm up, they'll be on the rocks in another minute!"

"That's right," cried Nat, "but look," he went on, "no wonder they

can't handle her. Her mainmast is gone."

"So it is, lad. Gone by the board."

"She's driving straight for those rocks!" cried Cal, indicating a

line of low-lying rocks which ran out seaward from the point. The

spray was breaking over them in wind-driven clouds. Through the

whiteness their black points could be seen sticking up like fangs.

In another moment the schooner was among them. A terrible, rasping,

grinding sound ensued as she pounded on the rocky surfaces. A sharp

chill ran through the boys as they gazed. In that sea, and in her

position, it would have been evident to the veriest landsman that she

could not live more than a short time. Even as they gazed the

foremast snapped off short and went overside with a terrific crash.

Worse still, some figures, which had been clinging to it, vanished

with it.

"If we could only help them," breathed Nat. "It is terrible to watch

such a scene helplessly."

"Yet we can do nothing," said Captain Akers. "But, look! it is the

beginning of the end!"

As he spoke a big gap could be seen to open in the side of the

unfortunate schooner. The waves broke over her in clouds and her

bowsprit snapped off, dragged by the weight of the foremast, with the

report of a gun.

All at once the watchers saw two figures emerge from below and appear

on the stern. It was at once evident that they were struggling.

"It's Dayton and Morello!" exclaimed Nat.

"So it is," cried Joe. "Look, Morello is seizing something from

Dayton and shoving it into his pockets. He's got on a life-belt--oh!"

The exclamation was called forth by something that had just occurred.

The figure Nat had recognized as Morello had been seen suddenly to

draw a pistol. The next second there was a flash and a puff of

smoke. No report could be heard above the fury of the storm, but

they saw Dayton throw up his hands and topple backward.

As he did so Morello, without a backward glance, leaped to the stern

rail, and without an instant's hesitation jumped overboard from the

fast-breaking craft.

"He'll be drowned!" cried Joe.

"No, he won't," rejoined Nat. "I saw him put on a life-belt before

he jumped."

Breathlessly they watched Morello as he neared the shore. One minute

he would vanish altogether, but the next he reappeared, and steadily

forged ahead. In the haste and desperation with which he had left

the schooner, he had not noticed the party on shore. But as he drew

closer he suddenly saw them. Had they been a party of ghosts he

could not have been more panic-stricken. With a loud cry that was

instantly choked by the water, he threw his arms above his head.

As he did so he sank. But the waves caught him and rolled him toward

the shore.

"We must get him out or he'll be killed," cried Nat, as time and

again the struggling man was drawn back by the undertow.

"How can we?" gasped Cal. "If only I had a lariat here, I'd--

"We can do better than that," said Nat hopefully.

"How?"

"Form a human chain. Captain Akers, you are the heaviest. You will

form the anchor. Now then you take hold of Cal and Cal will grip

Ding-dong and he in turn will hold Joe, who will grasp me."

Before they could remonstrate against his daring plan, Nat had them

all lined up under his directions, and then, while Joe held him

tightly, the brave lad plunged into the surf.

As Morello came within reach he seized him, only to find him

instantly torn from his grasp. But the next time the leader of the

outlaws came within reach Nat did better. He caught and gripped him

tightly.

"Heave!" he shouted back to the others. With a rush Nat and the man

he had saved were pulled out of the surf by the living chain and

landed high and dry on the beach. Morello's senses had left him and

his cheeks were a dead white under their swarthy hue. He gasped like

a fish that has just been landed.

Nat knelt by him and began applying "first aid" measures. While

doing so he noticed that the man's body was extraordinarily lumpy.

The next instant he discovered why. Morello's pockets were filled

with the sapphires. It was a wonder he had not sunk like a stone

when he jumped. The cause of the fight between himself and Dayton

was explained now. Doubtless the other had tired to prevent his

leader escaping with the loot.

Without compunction on the Motor Rangers' parts, the outlaw leader's

pockets were rifled. Of course, not all the stones were there, but

the finest lay exposed to view on the sand when the task was done.

Sam Hinckley--or Sam Gooddale, as we must call him now--looked on

with eyes that fairly bulged.

"And just to think," he exclaimed, "that my poor dad found all that."

"It is tough to think that he found it too late to make use of it,"

agreed Joe.

Just then Morello opened his eyes. He sat up with a start and a wild

shout:

"Get the wheel over, you lubbers! Head her about, I say! I----"

He broke off short and looked about him with a terrible look of rage

as he realized all at once where he was and what had happened.

Suddenly his eyes fell on the sapphires. With a yell, he dashed for

them. But Cal's strong hand jerked him away.

"Go easy, colonel," he said. "You've had a lot of rope, but you've

reached the end of it now. And, moreover---- Ah! you would--would

you!"

The colonel had drawn a knife, and, but for Cal's quick blow on the

wrist, which sent it spinning into the spume, he would have plunged

it into the mountaineer.

"After that we'd better tie him," said Captain Akers. "Joe, my boy,

will you cut some of those creepers I see growing up yonder? They'll

make nice bracelets and ankle ornaments for this gentleman."

Morello growled, more like a trapped wild beast than a human being,

and then, after being bound, sank into apathy by the fire. It was

not till some days later that they learned from him that when the

schooner had been dismasted some of the crew had made off in a boat,

among them being the false Elias Gooddale. It may be said here that

the boat was never heard of again, and doubtless sunk in the

hurricane, although it may have reached some remote island.

What with shell fish on the rocks, and cocoanuts and bananas inland,

our castaways were in no danger of starving. But they passed a

restless night, nevertheless. As for Morello, his bound form sat

huddled by the fire, gazing unblinkingly--like a captured wild

cat--into its depths. Of what was he thinking? Of his misspent

life? Perhaps.

At dawn, when the tempest had died out, Nat, who was on watch, gave a

great shout. The others instantly awakened and saw the most glorious

sight they could have thought of at that instant.

The "Nomad" was moving swiftly into the bay. Behind her came a "trig

and trim" looking black gunboat. At her stern flew the tricolor of

France. As she anchored a puff of smoke rolled from her side and a

loud report went echoing against the cliffs. Evidently the gunboat's

commander meant to show the natives he meant business. By and by a

boat was dropped and, manned with sailors, left the gunboat's side.

It stopped at the "Nomad" for an instant to take on the sturdy form

of Captain Nelsen.

Ten minutes later the adventurers were reunited. Captain Nelsen

found it hard to control his emotion when he learned of the loss of

his schooner, of which no trace remained at daylight. He did so

manfully, however, and listened to the boys' strange stories.

Another interested auditor was Captain De Lesseps of the gunboat

"Tricolor."

After missing Sam, Captain Nelsen had been about to put back after

him. But the storm struck him and he was blown seaward, despite the

powerful engines of the "Nomad." Shortly before dawn the French

gunboat had seen his signals of distress--blue Coston lights--and

borne down on him. When the gale moderated the two vessels had left

in company for the island, the captain in the meantime having told

his story to Captain De Lesseps.

No time was lost in sending landing parties of marines after the

savages and the leaders of the raid were captured and doomed to exile

on another island. The wounded man who had helped the boys escape

was also found and set at liberty. This done, Morello, against whom

the boys lodged charges, was placed on board the "Tricolor," in irons

in the brig, and taken to Nukahiva, till it could be arranged to have

him extradited. Among other charges, that of the murder of Ed.

Dayton, who was never seen again, was placed against him.

Sam, in due time, proved his right to the sapphires, which had led to

such an eventful cruise on blue water. One of the first things

noticeable after Sam had acquired his wealth was that he visited many

shipyards, inquiring for the smartest schooner obtainable. The

upshot of it was that Captain Nelsen now has a new "Nettie Nelsen,"

fitted with auxiliary gasolene engines. She is the smartest craft of

her size in the coast trade, and the captain is on the road to

fortune.

As for the Motor Rangers, the exigencies of space compel us to bid

them farewell, for the time being, at this point. But other

adventures--in a new field--are in store for them, to the full as

exciting as any through which they have yet passed. What these were

and how our lads bore themselves in the trying and often perilous

circumstances that lay ahead of them will all be told in detail in

the next volume of this series--"The Motor Rangers' Cloud Cruiser."

THE END.

BOY AVIATORS' SERIES

By Captain Wilbur Lawton

The Boy Aviators in Nicaragua

Or, Leagued With Insurgents

The launching of this Twentieth Century series marks the inauguration

of a new era in boys' books--the "wonders of modern science" epoch.

Frank and Harry Chester, the BOY AVIATORS, are the heroes of this

exciting, red-blooded tale of adventure by air and land in the

turbulent Central American republic. The two brothers with their

$10,000 prize aeroplane, the GOLDEN EAGLE, rescue a chum from death

in the clutches of the Nicaraguans, discover a lost treasure valley

of the ancient Toltec race, and in so doing almost lose their own

lives in the Abyss of the White Serpents, and have many other

exciting experiences, including being blown far out to sea in their

air-skimmer in a tropical storm. It would be unfair to divulge the

part that wireless plays in rescuing them from their predicament. In

a brand new field of fiction for boys the Chester brothers and their

aeroplane seem destined to fill a top-notch place. These books are

technically correct; wholesomely thrilling and geared up to third

speed.

The Boy Aviators on Secret Service

Or, Working With Wireless

In this live-wire narrative of peril and adventure, laid in the

Everglades of Florida, the spunky Chester Boys and their interesting

chums, including Ben Stubbs, the maroon, encounter exciting

experiences on Uncle Sam's service in a novel field. One must read

this vivid, enthralling story of incident, hardship and pluck to get

an idea of the almost limitless possibilities of the two greatest

inventions of modern times--the aeroplane and wireless telegraphy.

While gripping and holding the reader's breathless attention from the

opening words to the finish, this swift-moving story is at the same

time instructive and uplifting. As those readers who have already

made friends with Frank and Harry Chester and their "bunch" know,

there are few difficulties, no matter how insurmountable they may

seem at first blush, that these up-to-date gritty youths cannot

overcome with flying colors. A clean-cut, real boys' book of high

voltage.

The Boy Aviators in Africa

Or, An Aerial Ivory Trail

In this absorbing book we meet, on a Continent made famous by the

American explorer Stanley, and ex-President Roosevelt, our old

friends, the Chester Boys and their stalwart chums. In Africa--the

Dark Continent--the author follows in exciting detail his young

heroes, their voyage in the first aeroplane to fly above the

mysterious forests and unexplored ranges of the mystic land. In this

book, too, for the first time, we entertain Luther Barr, the old New

York millionaire, who proved later such an implacable enemy of the

boys. The story of his defeated schemes, of the astonishing things

the boys discovered in the Mountains of the Moon, of the pathetic

fate of George Desmond, the emulator of Stanley, the adventure of the

Flying Men and the discovery of the Arabian Ivory cache,--this is not

the place to speak. It would be spoiling the zest of an exciting

tale to reveal the outcome of all these episodes here. It may be

said, however, without "giving away" any of the thrilling chapters of

this narrative, that Captain Wilbur Lawton, the author, is in it in

his best vein, and from his personal experiences in Africa has been

able to supply a striking background for the adventures of his young

heroes. As one newspaper says of this book: "Here is adventure in

good measure, pressed down and running over."

The Boy Aviators Treasure Quest

Or, The Golden Galleon

Everybody is a boy once more when it comes to the question of hidden

treasure. In this book, Captain Lawton has set forth a hunt for gold

that is concealed neither under the sea nor beneath the earth, but is

well hidden for all that. A garrulous old sailor, who holds the key

to the mystery of the Golden Galleon, plays a large part in the

development of the plot of this fascinating narrative of treasure

hunting in the region of the Gulf Stream and the Sagasso Sea. An

aeroplane fitted with efficient pontoons--enabling her to skim the

water successfully--has long been a dream of aviators. The Chester

Boys seem to have solved the problem. The Sagasso, that strange

drifting ocean within an ocean, holding ships of a dozen nations and

a score of ages, in its relentless grip, has been the subject of many

books of adventure and mystery, but in none has the secret of the

ever shifting mass of treacherous currents been penetrated as it has

in the BOY AVIATORS TREASURE QUEST. Luther Barr, whom it seemed the

boys had shaken off, is still on their trail, in this absorbing book

and with a dirigible balloon, essays to beat them out in their search

for the Golden Galleon. Every boy, every man--and woman and

girl--who has ever felt the stirring summons of adventure In their

souls, had better get hold of this book. Once obtained, it will be

read and re-read till it falls to rags.

The Boy Aviators in Record Flight

Or, The Rival Aeroplane

The Chester Boys in new field of endeavor--an attempt to capture a

newspaper prize for a trans-continental flight. By the time these

lines are read, exactly such an offer will have been spread broadcast

by one of the foremost newspapers of the country. In the Golden

Eagle, the boys, accompanied by a trail-blazing party in an

automobile, make the dash. But they are not alone in their

aspirations. Their rivals for the rich prize at stake try in every

way that they can to circumvent the lads and gain the valuable trophy

and monetary award. In this they stop short at nothing, and it takes

all the wits and resources of the Boy Aviators to defeat their

devices. Among the adventures encountered in their cross-country

flight, the boys fall in with a band of rollicking cow-boys--who

momentarily threaten serious trouble--are attacked by Indians, strike

the most remarkable town of the desert--the "dry" town of "Gow

Wells," encounter a sandstorm which blows them into strange lands far

to the south of their course, and meet with several amusing mishaps

beside. A thoroughly readable book. The sort to take out behind the

barn on the sunny side of the haystack, and, with a pocketful of

juicy apples and your heels kicking the air, pass happy hours with

Captain Lawton's young heroes.

The Boy Aviators Polar Dash

Or, Facing Death in the Antarctic

If you were to hear that two boys, accompanying a South Polar

expedition in charge of the aeronautic department, were to penetrate

the Antarctic regions--hitherto only attained by a few daring

explorers--you would feel interested, wouldn't you? Well, in Captain

Lawton's latest book, concerning his Boy Aviators, you can not only

read absorbing adventure in the regions south of the eightieth

parallel, but absorb much useful information as well. Captain Lawton

introduces--besides the original characters of the heroes--a new

creation in the person of Professor Simeon Sandburr, a patient seeker

for polar insects. The professor's adventures in his quest are the

cause of much merriment, and lead once or twice to serious

predicaments. In a volume so packed with incident and peril from

cover to cover--relieved with laughable mishaps to the professor--it

is difficult to single out any one feature; still, a recent reader of

it wrote the publishers an enthusiastic letter the other day, saying:

"The episodes above the Great Barrier are thrilling, the attack of

the condors in Patagonia made me hold my breath, the--but what's the

use? The Polar Dash, to my mind, is an even more entrancing book

than Captain Lawton's previous efforts, and that's saying a good

deal. The aviation features and their technical correctness are by

no means the least attractive features of this up-to-date creditable

volume."

MOLLY BROWN SERIES

College Life Stories for Girls

By NELL SPEED.

MOLLY BROWN'S FRESHMAN DAYS

Would you like to admit to your circle of friends the most charming

of college girls--the typical college girl for whom we are always

looking but not always finding; the type that contains so many

delightful characteristics, yet without unpleasant perfection in any;

the natural, unaffected, sweet-tempered girl, loved because she is

lovable? Then seek an introduction to Molly Brown. You will find

the baggage-master, the cook, the Professor of English Literature,

and the College President in the same company.

MOLLY BROWN'S SOPHOMORE DAYS.

What is more delightful than a re-union of college girls after the

summer vacation? Certainly nothing that precedes it in their

experience--at least, if all class-mates are as happy together as the

Wellington girls of this story. Among Molly's interesting friends of

the second year is a young Japanese girl, who ingratiates her

"humbly" self into everybody's affections speedily and permanently.

MOLLY BROWN'S JUNIOR DAYS.

Financial stumbling blocks are not the only things that hinder the

ease and increase the strength of college girls. Their troubles and

their triumphs are their own, often peculiar to their environment.

How Wellington students meet the experiences outside the class-rooms

is worth the doing, the telling and the reading.

GIRL AVIATORS SERIES

Clean Aviation Stories

By MARGARET BURNHAM.

THE GIRL AVIATORS AND THE PHANTOM AIRSHIP.

Roy Prescott was fortunate in having a sister so clever and devoted

to him and his interests that they could share work and play with

mutual pleasure and to mutual advantage. This proved especially true

in relation to the manufacture and manipulation of their aeroplane,

and Peggy won well deserved fame for her skill and good sense as an

aviator. There were many stumbling-blocks in their terrestial path,

but they soared above them all to ultimate success.

THE GIRL AVIATORS ON GOLDEN WINGS.

That there is a peculiar fascination about aviation that wins and

holds girl enthusiasts as well as boys is proved by this tale. On

golden wings the girl aviators rose for many an exciting flight, and

met strange and unexpected experiences.

THE GIRL AVIATORS' SKY CRUISE.

To most girls a coaching or yachting trip is an adventure. How much

more perilous an adventure a "sky cruise" might be is suggested by

the title and proved by the story itself.

THE GIRL AVIATORS' MOTOR BUTTERFLY.

The delicacy of flight suggested by the word "butterfly," the

mechanical power implied by "motor," the ability to control assured

in the title "aviator," all combined with the personality and

enthusiasm of girls themselves, make this story one for any girl or