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 1808 PACfRC AVENUE 
 VENICE, 
 
 
 
 

 
 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 HOW BERT LARKIN SAVED HIS FATHER'S 
 RANCH IN THE ISLAND OF PORTO RICO. 
 
 BY WILLIAM P. CHIPMAN, 
 
 Author of "Roy Gilbert's Search," "Budd Boyd's Triumph, 
 "The Young Minuteman," etc., etc. 
 
 With Five Page Illustrations by J. Watson Davis. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 A. L. BTJRT, PUBLISHER. 
 
 GALIF. LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES
 
 Copyright, 1900, by A. L. BURT. " 
 
 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 BY WILLIAM P. CHIPM-AN.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER. PAGE 
 
 I. The Injured Sailor 1 
 
 II. Bert Loses his Place 9 
 
 III. A Small Fortune 16 
 
 IV. Aunt Mary's Confession 25 
 
 V. The Great Anvil Plantation 32 
 
 VI. The Captain's Dream 37 
 
 VII. JPBrave Act 42 
 
 VIII. A Contemptible Trick 49 
 
 IX. Mr. Barnes has a Visitor 55 
 
 X. A Midnight Alarm 62 
 
 XI. Bert's Two Presents 68 
 
 XII. Outwitted 77 
 
 XIII. Alone on the Sea 85 
 
 XIV. The Island Prison 93 
 
 XV. The Sponge-Gatherers 102 
 
 XVI. Startling News Ill 
 
 XVII. The Bombardment of San Juan 118 
 
 XVIII. A New Friend 128 
 
 XIX. At El Yunque Ranch 136 
 
 XX. A Diabolical Plot 147 
 
 XXI. What Bert Overheard 155 
 
 XXII. A Bold Move 167 
 
 XXIII. An Unsuccessful Raid 179 
 
 XXIV. Under the Flag 189 
 
 XXV. Back at the Ranch 198 
 
 XXVI. Father and Son 206 
 
 XXVII. Major Greene's Proposal 218 
 
 XXVni. Aunt Mary's Surprise 229 
 
 2126288
 
 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE INJURED SAILOR. 
 
 IT was Saturday, May 15th, 1897. At Thomp- 
 son's store, the largest grocery in Montvilie, every 
 one, from the proprietor himself to Bert Larkin, the 
 delivery clerk, was as busy as he could be. 
 
 The "latter, a bright and active lad of about six- 
 teen years, had just packed the last basket of gro- 
 ceries upon the delivery wagon, and was preparing 
 to mount the seat, when his employer called out : 
 
 " All ready for the south route, Bert ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," the clerk answered respectfully, and 
 waited for Mr. Thompson's next word. 
 
 " "Well, hurry it up as fast as you can ! Barker 
 has gone over to Flanders with the other wagon, 
 and you will have to make the north trip to-day." 
 
 This was so common an occurrence the lad thought 
 nothing of it. Thompson had a regular habit of 
 crowding double work upon his men, so he only 
 answered : 
 
 " All right, sir ; I'll be back in two hours, or 
 thereabouts,'' and then he jumped into the vehicle 
 and drove rapidly away. 
 
 Here and there through the streets in the south- 
 ern part of the thriving town he went. Not a
 
 2 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 moment was lost, and in about an hour he reached 
 the outskirts of the village. 
 
 Stopping before a small cottage, almost hid under 
 its load of vines, he picked out two or three parcels 
 from one of the baskets, and, with them in his arms, 
 ran up the path to the side door. 
 
 " Here you are, Aunt Mary," he said to a woman 
 busy at the kitchen stove. " I'll lay these things 
 on the step, for I'm in an awful hurry. I've got to 
 take Barker's route to day, so you needn't expect 
 me home to dinner. A bite of crackers and cheese 
 will have to do me until supper-time. Good-by ! " 
 and he hastened back to the street. 
 
 " Xo ; stop as you come back along, and I'll have 
 a lunch put up for you," his aunt replied, stepping 
 to the doorway and looking out at the retreating 
 lad. 
 
 He was driving off before she had done speaking, 
 and only shouted back : 
 
 " Very well ! " 
 
 As the horse jogged along down the turnpike into 
 the country, Bert reached back into the wagon and 
 overhauled his baskets. 
 
 " I wish I didn't have to go up to Bailey's to-day," 
 he soliloquized. " I forgot that when I told the 
 boss I'd be back in two hours. It means a half-hour 
 of extra time up Sugar Loaf hill and back, and I'm 
 afraid I can't keep my promise. But it can't be 
 helped now. Go on ! " 
 
 The last two words were spoken to his horse, and 
 the faithful creature quickened its pace as though 
 it understood the haste of its driver. 
 
 Four or five stops were made in the next mile, 
 the last one being at a house well off the main road. 
 This took extra time, and when Bert returned to 
 the turnpike he glanced at his watch, 
 
 " Quarter to ten ! " he exclaimed in surprise. u I 
 must reach Bailey's in the next fifteen minutes, or I
 
 THE INJURED SAILOR. 3 
 
 won't get back to the store anywhere near the time 
 I calculated on." 
 
 He took up his whip and touched the horse 
 lightly on its flank. This was such an unusual pro- 
 ceeding, however, the animal started down the road 
 at a rattling pace. 
 
 The highway was now a gradual decline into a 
 narrow valley, through which a small stream coursed. 
 An arched bridge, built of heavy stone, and having 
 huge stone posts at each end to support the iron ran 
 along its side, spanned this brook. 
 
 Beyond the brook the road forked, the left fork 
 gradually winding away among the hills towards a 
 large lake into which the stream emptied ; the right 
 fork turning sharply, and beginning at once the 
 long steep ascent of Sugar Loaf hill. 
 
 It was Bert's intention not to slacken the speed 
 of his mettled steed until he reached the foot of the 
 hill. But in this he was disappointed. As he came 
 upon the bridge two boys about his own age (whom 
 he immediately recognized as Sam Thompson, the 
 groceryman's son and Bill Ecclestone, his insepa- 
 rable crony,) stood on the south end, brandishing 
 their fishpoles in their hands. 
 
 " Stop ! Stop, Bert ! " they cried in chorus. " Give 
 us a ride ! Take us over to Lake Hammersly ! " 
 
 " Can't do it, boys, no way," Bert responded, pull- 
 ing up his horse. " I'm going the other way, over 
 Sugar Loaf, and have got to hurry too. Barker is 
 over at Flanders, and I have his route to day." 
 
 " Pshaw ! you can drive fast, and it won't take a 
 half-hour of your time. You've got to do it. Jump 
 in, Bill." 
 
 It was Sam Thompson who spoke, and he hastened 
 towards the left side of the wagon, while his friend 
 followed, going, however, to the right. 
 
 " Here take our poles, while we get in," the mer- 
 chant's son now commanded.
 
 4 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 Bert had already formed his plan to outwit the 
 lads. Seeming to acquiesce in their scheme, how- 
 ever, he took Ecclestone's pole first, saying : 
 
 " Wait a moment before you get in, Bill, I want 
 to find a place for tbe poles." 
 
 He then took Sam's rod, and held the two for an 
 instant, as though trying to adjust them tip to tip. 
 Then, like a flash, he tossed both over the nearest 
 railing into the brook, shouting at the same time to 
 his horse : 
 
 " Go on. Prince ! " 
 
 The animal started forward with a jump; the 
 turn to the right was safely made, and the hill 
 reached before the baffled boys had taken in the 
 situation ; and by the time they had recovered their 
 fishing tnckle the wagon was too far away to make 
 it worth their while to pursue it. 
 
 Looking back the young clerk smiled to see the 
 fists of the duped lads shaken furiously at him : 
 
 " We'll pay you for this ! " they shouted. 
 
 " All right ! to-morrow ; next week ; any time, 
 principal and interest," he called back, little realizing 
 how soon they were to do it, and in a way very 
 uncomfortable to himself. 
 
 Slowing the galloping animal down to a walk, 
 Bert glanced at his watch for the second time. 
 
 " Ten minutes coming here," he said ; " allow ten 
 minutes for going up the hill, and five more to the 
 house, and I shall be only a few minutes later at 
 Bailey's than I thought. Good! I may as well 
 take this part of my journey easy." 
 
 Stretching out on the wagon-seat in as comfort- 
 able a position as possible, he summoned up all his 
 patience, for what he knew from previous experience 
 would be a hard climb. 
 
 Five minutes, eight minutes, passed. The top of 
 the hill was in sight. The horse realized it, and 
 quickened its step. Bert, however, was too com-
 
 Bert placed his arm under the man and with a great effort 
 lifted him out of the brook. Page 5. Yankee Lad's Pluck.
 
 THE INJURED SAILOR. 5 
 
 fortable to move just yet, and failed to notice the 
 bicyclist who, the next instant, came over the brow 
 of the hill. But the wheelman saw him, and imme- 
 diately shouted out : 
 
 " Port there ! Port there with your craft, young- 
 ster, or I shall run you down ! " 
 
 Startled by the cry the lad leaped to his feet, saw 
 his danger, and, gripping his reins firmly, drew the 
 horse to the left just in time. By him the wheel 
 sped, its rider, whose garb, as well as his language, 
 proclaimed him a sailor, evidently enjoying his ride 
 with great glee, and having no thought ot the risk 
 he was running. 
 
 Stopping his horse, Bert leaped to the ground, 
 and looked after the flying man. But he was al- 
 ready too far down the hill for the boy to have more 
 than the merest glimpse of him. 
 
 " He can never make that turn at the bridge in 
 safety ! " the lad cried, a great terror taking posses- 
 sion of his heart. " Likely as not I shall find him 
 dead there when I go back." 
 
 He jumped into his wagon, drove rapidly on to 
 Mr. Bailey's, delivered his goods, and started on his 
 return. 
 
 At as rapid a gait as he dared he went down the 
 long hill. When near its foot he saw that apparently 
 his worst fears were realized. In the middle of the 
 bridge lay the bicycle a complete wreck ; while 
 over the rail in the shallow water lay the sailor, his 
 white face upturned to the sun, his eyes closed, 
 his form motionless to all appearances he was 
 dead. 
 
 Hitching his horse a short distance from the 
 bridge, Bert hastened to the side of the unconscious 
 man. Placing his arms under him, he with a great 
 effort lifted him out of the brook. As he did so the 
 poor fellow groaned. 
 
 " Oh ! he isn't dead," the boy cried in great relief.
 
 6 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 Then he dipped up some water from the stream with 
 his hands, and dashed it into the pallid face. 
 
 First there was a faint twitching of the eyelids ; 
 then the eyes opened ; finally the lips moved. 
 
 " Where am I ? What's happened ? " a faint voice 
 asked. 
 
 " Here by the brook. You fell from your wheel," 
 Bert answered. " Are you much hurt, sir?" 
 
 " 1 remember ; you are the boy I passed on the 
 hill ; then I lost control of my craft, and ran into 
 tbe bridge," the man answered, trying to raise him- 
 self, but falling back with a groan. 
 
 " I can't get up, I'm in terrible pain. What shall 
 I do ? " he continued between his moans. 
 
 " I have my horse and wagon here ; but I don't 
 believe I can lift you into it alone," Bert replied. 
 " Can you wait until I go for help ? " 
 
 " I must, 3 T oungster, but be quick about it," the 
 sailor answered Avith set teeth. 
 
 The lad thought a moment. The nearest house 
 was that in the lane way, towards the village, where 
 a half-hour before he had delivered goods. But he 
 now recollected that the farmer and his men were 
 at work in the field next to the turnpike. If they 
 were still there he could secure their help in ten 
 minutes. 
 
 To think was to act. Tossing the wrecked bicycle 
 off the bridge, he unhitched his horse, and drove 
 rapidly up the road. As soon as he was in sight of 
 the working men, he called out loudly : 
 
 "Help! help! Quick! This way!" 
 
 The men heard him ; saw the galloping horse ; 
 and hurried to meet him. 
 
 " What is it ? " they asked as he drew in his pant- 
 ing beast. 
 
 In a few words he told of his discovery, and Mr. 
 Martin, the farmer, was equal to the occasion. 
 
 " Here, John," he said to one of his men, " you go
 
 THE INJURED SAILOR. 7 
 
 down to the bridge and stay with the injured man. 
 Tell him we'll be there shortly." 
 
 To Bert he added : " You must go to the house 
 with me for a mattress. Quick ! " and with the last 
 word he jumped up beside the boy. 
 
 " We shall not need the rest of you," he called to 
 his other workmen ; " go on with your planting." 
 
 Once at the house he rapidly made his arrange- 
 ments for moving the sailor. 
 
 " Toss out those baskets, Bert, while 1 get the 
 bed," he directed, hurrying into the house. 
 
 In a minute he reappeared bringing a narrow 
 mattress that just filled the wagon body. A girl 
 followed him with two pillows and a blanket. 
 
 " We are ready," he announced, springing into the 
 vehicle. 
 
 Bert needed no other word, and drove furiously 
 down the lane. It could not have been over ten 
 minutes from the time he first left the bridge before 
 he was back there again. 
 
 Tenderly the unfortunate man was raised, and 
 laid upon the bed. A pillow was placed under his 
 head, and the blanket thrown over him. Then Mr. 
 Martin sat down beside the sufferer, while John and 
 Bert mounted the wagon seat. 
 
 " Where shall I go ? To your house, Mr. Martin ? " 
 the boy asked. 
 
 " No, I guess not," the farmer said, hesitatingly. 
 
 " Look here, Captain," the sailor suddenly put in. 
 " You needn't be afraid to take me there. I'm re- 
 spectable, and have the rocks to pay all bills." 
 
 " My dear fellow," Mr. Martin hastened to say, 
 " I was not thinking of that at all, but of your com- 
 fort. My wife is an invalid, as the lad here knows, 
 and I have only a young girl as housekeeper. There 
 are three hired men, myself, wife, and four small 
 children nine in all as many as one woman can 
 well care for. What you want is to go where you
 
 8 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 can have it quiet, and get the best of care, and be 
 near a physician. I have it, Bert ; why not take 
 him to your aunt's ? It is in the village, near the 
 doctor, and there isn't a better nurse in all JVIont- 
 ville." 
 
 " Just as you think best, Mr. Martin," the boy 
 replied, and so drove slowly and carefully on to his 
 own home. But he had no idea this incident of the 
 morning was to change his entire future.
 
 BERT LOSES HIS PLACE. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 BERT LOSES HIS PLACE. 
 
 IT took a full half hour, at the slow pace they were 
 obliged to travel, to reach the vine-covered cottage. 
 But when once there they had no doubt as to the 
 warmth of their welcome. 
 
 As soon as Bert's aunt was told of the poor man's 
 injury, she said : 
 
 " Why, of course, this is the place to bring him ! 
 If I can't nurse him back to health, no one can ; 
 and rav own room and bed are readv this minute for 
 him." 
 
 She bustled about while the men brought the 
 sailor in, throwing open a blind for more light, 
 bringing extra pillows for the sufferer's head, and 
 placing on the nearest table a bottle of camphor and 
 other restoratives in case the man should faint. 
 
 Meantime Bert had driven on for the nearest 
 doctor, and by the time the unfortunate fellow was 
 removed from the narrow mattress (on which he had 
 been brought) to the ampler and softer bed, Bert 
 had returned with the surgeon. 
 
 Lingering only long enough to learn that three 
 ribs and a leg of the stranger were broken, the 
 lad took Mr. Martin and John into his wagon and 
 drove off to the farm for his baskets. 
 
 As he came out of the laneway, on his return to 
 the village, he overtook Ned Loomis, a lad a year 
 older than himself, but one of his particular friends. 
 
 Young Loomis had evidently been on a tramp
 
 10 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 through the neighboring woods, and no\v, with his 
 rifle over his shoulder, was returning home. 
 
 " Give me a ride, Bert," he cried, as soon as he 
 caught sight of the wagon. 
 
 " Certainly, Ned ; jump in," was Bert's hearty re- 
 joinder, and slowing up the horse, he waited for his 
 comrade to mount the seat beside him. Then he 
 drove rapidly on to the store. 
 
 The town clock on the adjacent church steeple 
 was striking twelve when he finally reached the 
 grocery ; and the greeting he immediately met with 
 was certainly a disconcerting one. For the first 
 time he began to fear his long delay might work 
 disastrously to himself. 
 
 " Do you call this two hours, you young rascal ? " 
 angrily demanded his employer, stepping out upon 
 the sidewalk in front of the building. " It is over 
 four, if it's a minute, and your groceries have been 
 waiting for you more than half that time ! What 
 in the world have you been up to anyway? " 
 
 Then the eye of the enraged merchant fell on 
 young Loomis, who had just alighted from the 
 wagon, and he went on even more furiously : 
 
 " Oh ! ho ! that has been your game, has it ? 
 Dill-dallying along the road with a shot gun ! "Well, 
 I'll have you understand I have no place for 
 that kind of a clerk. Go to the cashier, get your 
 pay, and get out of my sight before I thrash you." 
 
 '' But I haven't been stopping along the way to 
 fire any gun," protested Bert, now thoroughly 
 alarmed lest he should lose a place that he could ill- 
 afford to give up. I only picked up Xed a few 
 minutes ago as I was returning to the village. He 
 will tell you so if you only ask him. The reason 
 for my long delay was -" 
 
 " Not another word out of you, you young repro- 
 bate," interrupted Mr. Thompson, his anger having 
 now reached a white heat. " I've no time to hear
 
 BERT LOSES HIS PLACE. H 
 
 any trumped-up stories. Get out of that wagon, get 
 your money and leave at once, before I take that 
 horsewhip to you for your impudence." 
 
 Bert leaped from the wagon, his eyes flashing with 
 indignation. 
 
 " This is unjust, Mr. Thompson," he said, " and 
 you'll be sorry for it. I found a man injured by the 
 roadside, and stopped long enough to bring him to 
 town. Mr. Martin or Dr. Russell will tell you so. 
 That is why I am so late." 
 
 " Well, what if you did ? My wagon isn't an am- 
 bulance for tramps," answered the merchant scorn- 
 fully. " I don't want another word with you ; get 
 your money and go." 
 
 Without another word the lad went to the cash- 
 ier's desk, drew the four dollars and fifty-eight cents 
 that was due him for five and a half days' work, 
 and left the store. 
 
 His first thought were to go directly home, but 
 before he reached the nearest corner he changed his 
 mind. He would not let his aunt know of his dis- 
 missal until he had made some effort to secure 
 another situation. 
 
 His wages were all they had to depend upon. The 
 sick man was at the house a burden upon them for 
 some weeks. Nothing could be more unfortunate 
 and discouraging than this discharge at just this 
 time. There was no need to trouble his aunt with 
 it, however, until he knew for certain that he could 
 not obtain work. 
 
 All that afternoon, therefore, he went from place 
 to place, wherever he thought they might need a 
 boy's service, asking for employment, but finding 
 none. 
 
 Somewhat discouraged, but determined as yet 
 not to worry his aunt with the misfortune which, 
 from no fault of his own, had befallen him, he 
 went to the house for his supper.
 
 12 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 He found his aunt sitting in a low rocker just 
 outside of her bedroom door, and was told in reply 
 to his anxious inquiry that the sailor was sleeping 
 quietly, and would doubtless recover from his in- 
 juries. 
 
 " His name is Jack Barnes, and he belongs over 
 at Goodport," his aunt explained in a low tone, as 
 she followed the boy out into the kitchen to give 
 him his supper. 
 
 " It seems he recently landed in Boston, and then 
 visited his native place, where he had not been for 
 years. Seeing some old friend there riding a bicycle 
 he took a notion to ride one too, and, with a sailor's 
 recklessness, started off for a long journey over an 
 unknown road the moment he regarded himself able 
 to manage the wheel. 
 
 " His coast down Sugar Loaf hill was another ex- 
 hibition of his recklessness, and ended in his terrible 
 accident. Attempting to turn on to the bridge at 
 the foot of the hill, he struck the stone post on the 
 right, throwing him first against the iron railing, 
 and then over into the brook itself. The first fall, 
 the doctor sa} T s, broke his ribs ; and the second, his 
 limb. A pretty severe punishment for his foolhardi- 
 ness." 
 
 " I should think so," admitted Bert. " Anyway, 
 I don't want to try his trip down the hill, and I 
 don't believe he ever will again. It's a wonder it 
 didn't kill him. I really thought he was dead when 
 I first caught a glimpse of his white face and mo- 
 tionless form. I can see him now," and the boy 
 shuddered as he recalled the sickening sight. 
 
 On finishing his supper he asked his aunt if there 
 was anything he could do for her. 
 
 " Nothing," she said ; " Mr- Hunt has offered to 
 come in and watch with the sick man to-night, and 
 you'll be at home to-morrow, so we shall get along 
 nicely,"
 
 BERT LOSES HIS PLACE. 13 
 
 "Very well," he responded, taking his hat and 
 leaving 'the house as though going to the store. 
 
 He spent the evening, as he had the afternoon, 
 hunting for work, but was still unsuccessful. At 
 about the usual hour for home-coming on Saturday 
 evenings, he came in for the night. 
 
 Mr. Hunt, their nearest neighbor, was already 
 installed in the bedroom, and his aunt had retired. 
 He, therefore, stopped only long enough to ascertain 
 that the injured man was resting quietly, then he 
 too went to bed. 
 
 But he was up early the next morning, and 
 promptly relieved the watcher from his long vigil. 
 Mr. Barnes was awake, and greeted the lad with a 
 hearty good morning. He made no further attempt 
 at conversation, however, until they were alone. 
 Then he asked : 
 
 " In whose house am I, youngster?" 
 
 " My aunt's, Miss Mary "Wheeler's," the lad an- 
 swered. 
 
 " Why, she is the very woman I was coming over 
 here to see," the man ejaculated. 
 
 Then, ignoring Bert's surprised look, he continued : 
 
 " And who are you ? " 
 
 " Bert Larkin, her nephew." 
 
 The sailor actually raised himself upon one elbow 
 and gazed curiously at the boy. 
 
 " Bert Larkin," he repeated. " Any relative of 
 Captain Albert Larkin, who married Miss Wheeler's 
 younger sister, Annie ? " 
 
 " He was my father," the lad replied, " though I 
 never saw him." 
 
 " Bless ye, ye didn't die when a little chap now, 
 did ye? How tickled the captain will be when I 
 tell him that," and the man laughed in evident 
 pleasure. 
 
 " Why, sir, do you know my father? Is he liv- 
 ing ? Where is he ? We've long thought him dead,"
 
 14 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 were the boy's rapid questions ; and his tones told 
 of the amazement he was in. 
 
 "The captain thought you were dead, and you 
 thought the captain was dead. What a muss now 
 that was, to be sure ! Well, thank God, Jack Barnes 
 can straighten it out middling quick. 
 
 " Is your father alive, lad ? Of course he is, or 
 was less than a month ago when 1 left him. And 
 wasn't his last word to me : ' Don't forget, Jack, to 
 go over to Montville, and see if my poor wife's sis- 
 ter, Mary Wheeler, is still living, and how she is 
 faring too. A word from the old borne will be wel- 
 come, though I've never seen the time for sixteen 
 years I've felt I could go back there myself.' And 
 that's how I'm here, bless ye heart." 
 
 " Father alive ! Father sent } T ou here ! I can 
 hardly believe it," cried the bewildered Bert. " Tell 
 me all about it; where he is; why he hasn't ever 
 come to see me ; " and there was an intense plead- 
 ing in every utterance of the boy. 
 
 Before the sailor could answer, a step was heard 
 at the bedroom door. Turning, the lad saw his 
 aunt, with a bowl of steaming broth in her hands. 
 Her first words showed, moreover, that she had 
 heard enough of her nephew's last remark to under- 
 stand the nature of the conversation that was being 
 held. For, setting the dish down on the stand at the 
 head of the bed, she immediately exclaimed : 
 
 " My brother-in-law, Captain Albert Larkin, sent 
 you here ! Pray, where is he, and " hesitatingly 
 now " and why haven't we heard something from 
 him in all these years, Mr. Barnes? " 
 
 The sailor gave her a searching look as he an- 
 swered : 
 
 " He is in Porto Rico, ma'am ; you only wait 
 until I'm a bit stronger, and we'll compare notes. 
 I guess we can then tell why it is he hasn't ever sent 
 you any word."
 
 BERT LOSES HIS PLACE. 15 
 
 " Of course we'll wait until you are stronger," she 
 said quickly, and with some show of relief in her 
 tones. " Go, Bert, and eat your breakfast. It's on 
 the table, and I have Mr. Barnes's breakfast here." 
 
 Eager as Bert was to learn more of the father he 
 had never seen, and of w T hom he had heard but 
 little, he realized there was wisdom in his aunt's 
 decision. But his heart beat quickly, and his 
 thoughts chased each other in wildest confusion, as 
 he entered the kitchen and sat down to partake of 
 a meal for which his appetite had suddenly vanished.
 
 16 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A SMALL FORTUNE. 
 
 SEVERAL times during that long Sunday Bert was 
 on the point of telling his aunt of his dismissal from 
 the store, but checked himself each time, thinking : 
 "Maybe to-morrow I shall find another job, and 
 there is no need of worrying her about it ; especi- 
 ally now she has this sick man to care for." 
 
 One of his duties as an employee of Mr. Thomp- 
 son had been to care *for the horses. This necessi- 
 tated early rising on his part, and, in order to keep 
 the fact that he had lost his place from his aunt, he, 
 on Monday morning, got up at his usual time. It 
 was, therefore, scarcely five o'clock when he came 
 down-stairs into the little kitchen. 
 
 Early as it was, however, his aunt was there be- 
 fore him, busily engaged in getting his breakfast. 
 It was soon ready, and while the lad ate, she talked 
 away to him about their unexpected guest. 
 
 Mr. Williams, another near neighbor, who had 
 watched with the sailor the previous night, had 
 just gone, and alluding to him, Miss Wheeler said : 
 
 " Neighbor Williams tells me that Mr. Barnes has 
 slept soundly all night, and that he is quite sure we 
 shall not need watchers any longer. He says if you 
 are only willing to sleep on the sitting-room lounge, 
 within call of the sick man, that is all that will be 
 necessary. I hate to ask it of you, after your day 
 of hard work at the store, but if you will do it, I 
 can look out for the poor fellow days, and we need 
 trouble our neighbors no further."
 
 A SMALL FORTUNE. 17 
 
 " Of course I'll do that, or anything else to help 
 you, Aunt Mary," Bert replied quickly, wondering 
 what she would say if she knew he was no longer 
 in the store. 
 
 Then, partly to turn the conversation from what 
 he considered dangerous ground, and partly be- 
 cause he believed it might relieve her anxiety as to 
 all expense connected with her unexpected patient, 
 he told her what the injured man had said to Mr. 
 Martin about his ability to pay the costs connected 
 with the accident, adding : 
 
 " I don't believe we shall lose anything, Auntie, in 
 having him here." 
 
 " I'm not thinking of pay," she responded quickly. 
 " I should give him the best care possible whoever 
 he was. But what he has already said to you shows 
 that he was coming over to Montville on purpose to 
 look me up, as a special messenger from your 
 father. That makes our duty to care for him all 
 the stronger ; and when able he will make his busi- 
 ness known. But it seems strange, Bert, to think 
 of your father as living, when for so long a time 
 we have regarded him as dead." 
 
 " Yes," the boy assented. " I can't make it seem 
 real to me ; and there's another thing I don't under- 
 stand, Aunt Mary. Admit that father thought I 
 was dead though I don't see what reason he had 
 for thinking so why has he neglected you so long ? 
 Surely you had a claim on him." 
 
 " Not a very strong one, Bert, I guess," his aunt 
 said, in a constrained voice. Then she went on 
 hurriedly, as though anxious to get through with 
 what she had to say. 
 
 " I wanted this talk with you this morning, Bert. 
 I've laid awake nearly all night thinking about it. 
 You mustn't blame your father at all, child. I'm to 
 blame for his long silence. There are some things 
 connected with this affair I have never told you 
 
 2
 
 18 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 perhaps never should have told you but for this 
 visit of the sailor. 
 
 " When he gets ready to tell you his story, how- 
 ever, I'll tell you mine ; and, as he intimated yester- 
 day, when we come to compare notes we shall be 
 able to explain your father's prolonged silence. I 
 only hope you won't hate me, Bert. I can stand 
 everything but that," and, throwing her arms about 
 the boy's neck, she wept bitterly. 
 
 " Of course, I am not going to hate you, Aunt 
 Mary," replied the puzzled lad. " Who 'has cared 
 for me from my birth, working and sacrificing 
 every way to feed and clothe and educate me ? I owe 
 everything to you, and love you better than any one 
 else in all the world," and he kissed her repeatedly. 
 
 His words and caresses reassured her, and drying 
 her tears, she allowed him to finish his breakfast. 
 
 Just as he arose from the table, there came a 
 knock at the door. Miss Wheeler opened it, and 
 Ked Loomis came in. 
 
 " Good morning, Miss Wheeler," he said, politely 
 removing his cap. 
 
 "Hello, Bert! This is an early call, isn't it? 
 But I've come on an errand for father. Saunders, 
 one of the teamsters at the mill, is sick, and pa says 
 you can have his job, if you want it." 
 
 " Why, he is in the store, and can't work for 
 your father!" exclaimed Miss Wheeler, secretly 
 glad of it. She had the foolish pride so common 
 with many, that to be a clerk in a store was more 
 genteel than to be a mill-hand. 
 
 At the same moment, however, Bert exclaimed in 
 great joy : 
 
 " This is due to you, Ned," and he grasped his 
 friend's outstretched hand, giving it a hearty shake. 
 " I know it is, for I called at the mill for work on 
 Saturday afternoon, and the overseer told me there 
 were no vacancies."
 
 A SMALL FORTUNE. 19 
 
 " "What do you mean, Bert ? " asked his aunt, 
 bewildered by the lad's words. 
 
 Sure of work, Bert now told her of his discharge 
 from the store, and the reason for it. 
 
 " To think Thompson would do such a thing ! " 
 she cried, indignantly. "He hasn't a spark of 
 humanity about him, not to mention common de- 
 cency ! Well, I knew he was close and stingy, but 
 I didn't think he was quite as mean as this ! " 
 
 "That is just what father said," put in Ned. 
 " You see, Miss Wheeler," he explained, " I heard 
 Thompson threaten to dismiss Bert, and waited long 
 enough to see if it really happened. Then I hurried 
 home and told father. He went down street almost 
 immediately and saw Dr. Russell, who, as you 
 know, attended the sailor ; and later he drove 
 out to Mr. Martin's and had a talk with him. The 
 result was he came home determined that Bert 
 should lose nothing by what he called his ' humane 
 act,' 
 
 " Last night, just as I was going to bed, he told 
 me I was to come down here before six this morn- 
 ing, and tell Bert he could have Saunders' place 
 until there is something better for him. I suspect," 
 he also added with a grin, "that, from some things 
 mother says, father went around to Thompson's 
 before he came home Saturday night, and told him 
 just what he thought of him." 
 
 Mr. Loomis was the proprietor of the Montville 
 Woolen Mills, and employed nearly two hundred 
 hands. As the village was five miles from the 
 nearest railroad station (that at Flanders), all the 
 raw material for the manufactory had to be carted 
 from that depot, and the manufactured goods taken 
 over to it. This kept four teams constantly on the 
 road, and the work assigned to Bert, as we have 
 seen, was that of Saunders', one of the regular 
 teamsters.
 
 20 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 While the lad naturally would have preferred 
 some other employment, he was glad to secure this. 
 He, therefore, now said : 
 
 " I'll report at the mill promptly, Ned, and thank 
 you again for your kindness." 
 
 With a frank assertion that he had done nothing 
 to be thanked for, young Loomis departed. His 
 parting sentence, however, had evidently been saved 
 for that moment. 
 
 " Oh ! I say, Bert, I was also to tell you that you 
 were to have the same pay father gives Saunders, 
 one dollar and a half per day." 
 
 Perhaps the happiest boy '.n the whole town was 
 Bert Larkin, when, fifteen minutes later, he reported 
 himseii at the mill office as ready for work. 
 
 Mr. Loomis was there ; and, looking the boy over 
 from head to foot, as though measuring his spirit 
 and ability, he remarked : 
 
 " I see you are ready for your job, my lad." 
 
 " Yes, sir, and thankful for it too, ' the boy replied 
 heartily. 
 
 " I presume, though, there are things you would 
 prefer to teaming," said the manufacturer, quizzi- 
 cally. 
 
 " Yes, sir," the lad responded slowly ; " I suppose 
 we all have our preferences, but I'm not above any 
 honest work." 
 
 " That's right, and I admire your spirit," the 
 
 S3ntleman answered, decidedly. " But the fact is, 
 ert, we shall keep you at this only a short time. 
 We hope to find a better berth for you. 
 
 " You may go around to the mill stables now," 
 he continued. " You will find Brown, our oldest 
 teamster, waiting you there. He has orders to help 
 you in your loading and unloading, and you are to 
 follow him in your driving. One round trip each 
 forenoon and afternoon is what we expect of you. 
 Good morning."
 
 A SMALL FORTUNE. 21 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Loorais," said the boy hast- 
 ening off to his work. 
 
 An hour later, perched high on his load of wooden 
 cases, he followed Brown over the hills towards 
 Flanders. 
 
 Perhaps a half hour after Bert's departure from 
 the little cottage, Miss Wheeler carried in the break- 
 fast of her patient, which he ate with evident relish. 
 
 " I guess, ma'am," he said, when he was done, 
 "that that farmer was right when he suggested I 
 had better be stowed in here. You certainly know 
 how to care for a sick man. I'm much obliged to 
 you, ma'am. But if I may ask, where's that boy, 
 the captain's son ? I haven't seen him this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 " No, sir, he went to his work some time ago," 
 she replied. 
 
 " Where does he work, ina'am ? Some store, I 
 should judge by his turnout ? " the sailor next in- 
 quired. 
 
 " He did work at Thompson's grocery has 
 worked there for about a year. But he went to a 
 new place this morning," she explained. 
 
 " I'd have you know, sir," she went on with evi- 
 dent pride, " he graduated from our grammar school 
 last June at the head of his class, anH I wanted him 
 to go on into the high school, and perhaps to college, 
 if we could bring it about. But he said, ; No.' 
 That I'd worked long enough for him, and now he 
 was going to care for me. So he went right down 
 to Thompson's grocery, and hired out. He's a good 
 boy, sir, if there ever was one." 
 
 " What wages did he get there ? " Mr. Barnes 
 now questioned. 
 
 "Five dollars a week, sir; but he is to have a 
 dollar and a half a day at the mill where he began 
 work this morning." 
 
 She did not think it necessary to explain any
 
 22 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 farther why Bert had changed the place of his em- 
 ployment. 
 
 " Is that all you have had to live on, ma'am ? " 
 the sick man asked, bluntly. 
 
 Though Miss Wheeler regarded her guest as un- 
 necessarily inquisitive she replied, simply, 
 
 " Except a little I earn by my sewing. I used to 
 go out nursing some, but Bert will not allow that 
 now. You see I own the cottage, and we have some 
 fruit, and a garden, and the chickens. So we get 
 on quite nicely, sir." 
 
 " Humph ! The captain's son working in a store 
 for five dollars a week ! Gone to work now at a mill 
 like any common laborer! His wages all he and 
 his aunt has to live on ! " ejaculated the man. 
 " Ginger and pepper ! what would the captain say 
 to that ? " 
 
 As Miss Wheeler did not feel any obligation rest- 
 ing on her to answer the question, she said nothing. 
 A moment later she took up her patient's dishes and 
 went back to her kitchen. 
 
 While busy at the sink the call-bell she had 
 placed on the stand beside the invalid rang out 
 sharply. 
 
 She hastened to the bedroom. 
 
 " What is it, sir ? " she inquired. 
 
 " Does that youngster come home to dinner ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Send him in here to me at once, please." 
 
 There was a decisiveness about the words that 
 suggested he wished to settle some important mat- 
 ter ; but whatever it was he did not make known. 
 
 " Very well," she replied, and returned to her work. 
 
 So when Bert, having made his first round trip 
 over to the Flanders station, came to his dinner, he 
 was told that Mr. Barnes wished to see him at once. 
 
 Stepping along to the door of the bedroom, the 
 lad said, cheerily ;
 
 A SMALL FORTUNE. 23 
 
 " How are you to-day, Mr. Barnes ? Better, I 
 hope ? I had counted on running in for a few 
 minutes after dinner to see you ; but as aunt says 
 there is something special you wish to see me about, 
 I came in at once. What is it, sir ? " 
 
 "Call your aunt," the sailor replied, somewhat 
 brusquely. 
 
 The boy obeyed, and when both were in the bed- 
 room, their guest put his hand into the bosom of 
 his shirt, and drew out a long leather pocketbook. 
 Opening it, he took out a slip of paper, and passed 
 it over to Miss Wheeler, saying : 
 
 " The captain sent that to you." 
 
 A glance showed the astonished woman that it 
 was a draft on a well known banking firm in New 
 York City for one thousand dollars, payable to her 
 order. 
 
 " The captain sent this to me ! " she exclaimed. 
 " A thousand dollars ! What shall I do with it, 
 Bert ? I never had so much money before in all 
 my life," and there was real dismay in her tones. 
 
 " Oh ! I guess you will find some way to use it, 
 Auntie," he answered, laughing happily. " I don't 
 wonder you are puzzled though ; it seems a for- 
 tune, doesn't it ? " 
 
 " It is a fortune," said his aunt, emphatically. 
 Then she asked in quick concern : " You are sure 
 the captain hasn't robbed himself, Mr. Barnes ? " 
 
 The sailor laughed immoderately. " Robbed 
 himself ! " he cried. " Now that is rich, isn't it ? 
 I should shake myself to pieces, if it didn't hurt so. 
 Eobbed himself? Well, hardly." 
 
 " Here, lad," he now called to Bert, " take this," 
 passing him the wallet. " There is nearly five hun- 
 dred dollars in there ; take it, and pay the expenses 
 of this ranch until I'm on my feet." 
 
 " There's another thing you must do, sir," he con- 
 tinued ; " you must quit " that mill. The captain
 
 24 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 would never forgive me for allowing you to work 
 there, when he has plenty. So quit you must." 
 
 " And look here, ma'am," he added to Miss 
 Wheeler, u put a girl into that kitchen to do the 
 hard work, and find a man to wait on me. It isn't 
 the thing for either of you to care for old Jack 
 Barnes. Now it isn't, sure," and the man sank back 
 upon his pillows quite out of breath from his long 
 speech. 
 
 " But, Mr. Barnes, isn't this your money ? " Bert 
 objected, the color rising to his cheeks. " If so, I 
 can't take it, sir." 
 
 " Of course it's my money," he broke in ; " who 
 said it wasn't ? But bless you, the captain will 
 make me good, ten to one, if need be. Go ahead 
 both of you, and do as I say, and leave me alone. 
 I'm tired," and he shut his mouth with a snap that 
 seemed to lock his jaws, for the present at least, for 
 they could get nothing more out of him.
 
 AUNT MARY'S CONFESSION. 25 
 
 CHAPTER IY. 
 
 AUNT MARY'S CONFESSION. 
 
 IN the kitchen there was an animated discussion 
 between the aunt and nephew. It ended in the 
 lad's taking the draft, properly indorsed, and four 
 hundred dollars of the money, to the village bank, 
 where the entire amount was deposited to Miss 
 "Wheeler's credit. 
 
 As Bert came down the bank steps he met Mr. 
 Thompson. That gentleman was in any but the 
 best frame of mind. Not only had Mr. Loomis been 
 to him and expressed in no mild language his opin- 
 ion of a man who discharged a clerk for playing the 
 part of the Good Samaritan to an unfortunate 
 stranger, but Dr. Russell, and Judge Peabody, and 
 several other prominent citizens of the village, had 
 emphatically denounced the merchant's act as an 
 outrage, and their denouncements had been faith- 
 fully reported to the groceryman by the village 
 busybodies. Even the clerks in the store, with 
 whom Bert was a general favorite, had been over- 
 heard commenting on what they termed " the 
 meanest freak of a dreadfully mean boss." 
 
 Nor was this all. Some of the best customers had 
 called at the store, asking for their accounts, 
 and intimating the^ preferred to trade elsewhere. 
 To lose the good opinion of his neighbors was to 
 Thompson a small matter compared with losing a 
 few dollars in his sales. He was almost ready, there- 
 fore, to admit that possibly he had made a mistake 
 in discharging his young clerk.
 
 26 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 On the way to the bank to make a deposit he was 
 brooding over this matter, and, hard as it was to do 
 it, had concluded the best stroke of policy for him 
 under the circumstances would be to ask Bert to 
 return to his old position. And just as he came to 
 this conclusion he suddenly came face to face with 
 the boy himself. 
 
 "Hey there, Bert," he stammered, "you can 
 come back to the store again, if you wish to." 
 
 The lad mistrusted what it was that had led to 
 this rather ungracious offer of his old clerkship, 
 and mischievously decided to draw out his late em- 
 ployer, and see how much he wanted him. 
 
 " At what wages, Mr. Thompson ? " he questioned. 
 
 "Why the same as before, of course," snapped tho 
 man. 
 
 " I can't think of it," replied Bert, gravely. 
 
 This was a new aspect of the question to the 
 merchant, and he paused a moment to consider it. 
 Finally, deciding it might be something to his credit 
 to have it said he took his clerk back at increased 
 w^ages, he cautiously inquired : 
 
 What will you come back for then ? " 
 
 " Ten dollars," said the boy coolly ; " you see I'm 
 getting nine at my new job." 
 
 " Ten dollars ! " exclaimed the now angry man. 
 " I'll let you and your aunt go to the poorhouse first." 
 
 " We sha'n't move there this month, Mr. Thomp- 
 son," Bert retorted, with a laugh, as he hurried away. 
 
 When at the mill he told Mr. Loomis enough of 
 the sailor's story to explain the reason for his unex- 
 pected request, 'and then asked to be released from 
 his position as teamster at the close of the day. 
 
 " Certainly, my dear boy," the kind-hearted man 
 replied ; " you may go now if you prefer, and I sin- 
 cerely congratulate you on your good fortune." 
 
 " I know you mean it, Mr. Loomis," said the lad, 
 " and therefore, thank you ; and before I go I want
 
 AUNT MARY'S CONFESSION. 27 
 
 to assure you I appreciate the interest you took in 
 me, and the place you offered me, at a time when I 
 was in sore trouble and knew not where I should 
 find my next work. I shall never forget it, sir ; " 
 and, so after a half-day's service as a mill-employee, 
 Bert left. 
 
 But the changes which the sailor had proposed in 
 the working force of the household were never 
 carried out. 
 
 " I have run that kitchen for more than twenty- 
 five years, and I don't propose to give it up to any 
 one else while I'm able to attend to it," was Miss 
 Wheeler's invariable answer ; " and as for having 
 another man in this house to wait on, I simply 
 won't. With nothing else for you to do, Bert, it is 
 a pity if we can't take care of Mr. Barnes ourselves. 
 It's all nonsense that we are too good to wait on 
 him ! " and she had her way. 
 
 The next day was one of heavy storm. The rain 
 poured in torrents ; and the wind blew in unceasing 
 gusts. Compelled to keep the house Bert found 
 an interesting book, and for an hour or two read 
 aloud to his aunt and Mr. Barnes. 
 
 Then the latter spoke up : " Put up your book 
 for a while, Bert. Somehow what } r ou have been 
 reading has se.t me to thinking of the captain. I'm 
 strong enough now to talk over the whole matter 
 Avith your aunt, and if she is willing we'll compare 
 log-books." 
 
 Miss Wheeler flushed a little at his words, but 
 readily assented. 
 
 " If you please then, ma'am," he began, " I'll have 
 you spin your yarn first, for I suspect mine begins 
 about where yours ends."' 
 
 " I am anxious to tell my part of the story," an- 
 swered she ; " though some of it will not be entirely 
 to my credit. 
 
 "Nineteen years ago Captain Albert Larkin met
 
 28 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 my sister Annie for the first time. She had gone 
 over to Gootlport to spend two weeks with a former 
 schoolmate, and while there made his acquaintance. 
 It was a case of love at first sight on their part, and 
 as the captain was to sail soon on a voyage to South 
 America, he desired to be married immediately. 
 
 " I objected to this for several reasons : First, be- 
 cause Annie was so young she was only eighteen 
 ten years younger than myself and seemed to me, 
 who had been her sole guardian since mother's 
 death, still a child. 
 
 " Then the captain was thirty-eight, old enough, 
 I thought, to be Annie's father rather than her hus- 
 band, and I did not hesitate to say so. 
 
 " Again, I declared that the two weeks the cap- 
 tain and she had known each other were not a long 
 enrugh acquaintance on which to base a union which 
 liiust be for life. 
 
 " Furthermore, for I was looking for every objec- 
 tion possible, I found fault with the captain's occupa- 
 tion, that would keep him so much of the time away 
 from his wife. 
 
 " I see now that an insane jealousy on my part was 
 the real cause of my obstinacy. I was not willing 
 that my sister should care for another more than 
 she did for me. But at the time I thought I was 
 honest in the objection I made. I ended by telling 
 Annie she could not be married in her old home 
 with my consent. 
 
 " I was not prepared for her quiet and dignified 
 answer: 'I am the one to decide a question which 
 concerns my future happiness, Mary, and not you,' 
 she said. ' Naturally I should prefer to be married 
 here, but it is not necessary. Other arrangements 
 can be made. We will have no more words over 
 this unfortunate affair.' 
 
 " She was much in her own room after that, but 
 I was too angry to try to secure her confidence.
 
 AUNT MARY S CONFESSION. 29 
 
 " A week later the captain drove to the door in a 
 hack. Annie came down from her chamber dressed 
 for a journey. To the captain she said : ' My trunk 
 is ready in the room at the head of the stairs.' To 
 me she added : ' We are going from here to the 
 minister's, where we shall be married. Then we 
 drive directly to Goodport, and I shall sail with my 
 husband for Rio de Janeiro. I hold no hard feelings 
 against you, Mary. Until now you have been the 
 kindest of sisters, and I shall write vou often. 
 Good-by!' 
 
 " In my angriest mood I had anticipated no such 
 radical step on the part of my usually gentle and 
 yielding sister as this, and I was so struck dumb at 
 her announcement, I answered her not a word. 
 The next moment she was gone. 
 
 " Many a time during the following months I re- 
 pented bitterly of my folly, and often upbraided 
 myself for having driven my sister from a home 
 which was as much hers as mine. 
 
 " Occasionally a letter came from her, always 
 breathing a spirit of love for me, always telling of 
 her happiness with her husband. From South 
 America the captain took a freight for England, and 
 then for the coast of Africa, and it was over two 
 years before they came home. 
 
 " One spring day, however, unexpectedly to my- 
 self, they drove to the door ; Annie, looking more 
 matronly, but the same dear, loving sister, that she 
 had always been ; the captain dignilied, yet friendly, 
 if I cared to be so. The announcement they soon 
 made filled me with delight: Annie was to remain 
 with me, if I were willing, while the captain made 
 his next voyage. 
 
 " The next three months were the happiest of my 
 life ; then came its greatest sorrow : Bert here was 
 born, and his mother died. 
 
 " The captain was too far away to be reached in.
 
 30 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 time for the funeral, and as the sole mourner I fol- 
 lowed her to the grave. I think now I must have 
 been nearly crazy with my grief, for I wrote the 
 captain telling him not of what I counted his loss, 
 but mine, charging him with my sister's death, de- 
 claring heartlessly that his child was so weak and 
 puny it would doubtless be dead long before he got 
 my letter, and ending with the assertion that I never 
 wished to see his face again. 
 
 " I wonder now that he ever replied to my letter, 
 but he did ; and how kindly he wrote you shall 
 yourselves judge, for I have always kept his an- 
 swer." 
 
 She arose, went to an old bureau in the corner of 
 the bedroom, and from its drawer brought the 
 manuscript. 
 
 " Read it, Bert," she said, thrusting it into the 
 boy's hand. 
 
 He glanced at the sheet, and saw his father's 
 handwriting for the first time. It had a fascination 
 for him, and for a while he looked it. over. Then 
 with a husky voice he read : 
 
 " BARCELONA, SPAIN. 
 " Oct 10, 1881. 
 " DEAR SISTER MARY : 
 
 " Your letter is before me, and I am asking myself 
 can its contents be true ? Am I wifeless ? Child- 
 less? From this hour must I go alone through life, 
 without Annie's guiding hand and loving heart? 
 God pity me ! 
 
 " I will not be selfish in my grief. I recognize how 
 +he deep sense of your own loss has led you to 
 write as you would not have written under other 
 circumstances. May the good Lord help you also. 
 
 " I enclose a draft for five hundred dollars. Will 
 you use it to pay all expenses connected with 
 Annie's illness, death and burial ? Also place a 
 suitable stone at her grave, and at the grave of our
 
 AUNT MARY'S CONFESSION. 31 
 
 child, if he be dead. The remainder, if any, use 
 for yourself. 
 
 " My address will remain the same for some months, 
 and I shall expect to hear from you again before 
 long, especially if my boy lives (a hope I hardly 
 dare cherish), for I shall then return to my native 
 land. Otherwise you are likely to have your wish, 
 and never see my face again. 
 
 " Your brother, 
 
 " ALBERT LAKKIN." 
 
 As Bert ceased his reading his aunt continued : 
 
 " When that letter reached me, baby Bert, in- 
 stead of dying, had grown into a fat, healthy child. 
 I had become greatly attached to him, and feared, 
 if the captain learned he was alive, he would come 
 and take him from me. Under that fear I com- 
 mitted the great wrong of my life. / never wrote 
 the captain. From that fact alone he must have 
 believed, as I th-.n hoped he would, that his child 
 was dead." 
 
 For some time her sobs alone broke the stillness ; 
 then Bert went over to her side and put his arms 
 about her. 
 
 " Don't, Aunt Mary," he pleaded ; " you meant 
 all right ; your error came through your great love 
 for me. I forgive it, and I believe father will. We 
 can be happy yet. But let us hear Mr. Barnes's 
 story." 
 
 With a great effort Miss Wheeler regained con- 
 trol of herself, and then she and the lad waited for 
 the sailor to speak.
 
 32 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 CH AFTER Y. 
 
 THE GREAT ANVIL PLANTATION. 
 
 THE sailor brushed away a suspicious moisture 
 from bis o\vn eyes, cleared bis tbroat two or three 
 times, as though some obstacle was choking him, 
 then be said : 
 
 " As I suspected, ma'am, my story begins about 
 where yours ends. Leastwise" the 'threads don't 
 overlap much, and 'twon't take much of a splice to 
 make mine tit right on to yours. 
 
 "I was a schoolmate of the captain, and, like him, 
 always had a love for the sea. But my father and 
 mother objected so strongly to a sailor's career for 
 their onlv child, I yielded to their wishes as long .... 
 they lived. 
 
 " But when Captain Larkin left his wife here, and 
 sailed for Europe, my parents were dead, and I was 
 free to carry out my long cherished purpose. I 
 shipped as a green hand on the captain's vessel, 
 and so was with him when your letter reached him. 
 
 "lie called me into his cabin, and read the sad 
 message it contained. "When be had finished he 
 said : 
 
 " ' Jack, my boy as well as my wife must now be 
 dead. I have, therefore, nothing to go home for. 
 Instead of looking for a cargo for the States, I shall 
 go anywhere I can pick up a freight. It is no more 
 than 'fair to tell you of this, so you may, if you 
 choose, ship on some vessel sailing home.' 
 
 " ' Captain,' I replied, ' I have no one in the
 
 THE GREAT ANVIL PLANTATION. 33 
 
 States that has as much claim on me as yourself. 
 "We've always been friends, and I shall stay by you.' 
 
 "He seemed pleased, and added : ' When we sail, 
 Jack, you shall be in the cabin as second mate.' 
 
 " We got a freight for San Juan, Porto Kico, and 
 carried two passengers, an old Spaniard, Don 
 Maximo Buvinez, and his grandchild. The latter 
 was a bright little fellow of five, an orphan, and 
 the grandfather had made the voyage from Porto 
 Rico to Spain on purpose to obtain the lad. He 
 was now taking him to his own estate in the island 
 for which we were sailing. 
 
 The old Don was reserved, and made friends with 
 us slowly. Not so with the lad, however ; he was 
 soon the pet of both officers and crew. 
 
 " The captain particularly took to the child, per- 
 haps through the thought of the boy he had him- 
 self lost ; and. it was no uncommon sight to see the 
 captain walking the quarterdeck with little Maximo 
 (for the child had his grandfather's name) in his 
 arms. 
 
 " One day when we were about half across the 
 ocean, there was a sudden squall. All of us were 
 busy securing sail, and putting the ship into shape 
 to run before the gale, and did not notice the boy, 
 until there was a quick lurch of the vessel ; then a 
 plunge, followed by a loud shriek, which told the 
 story. The lad was overboard. 
 
 " The captain himself was the first to notice the 
 accident, and instantly his commands rang out loud 
 and clear : 
 
 " * Mr. Harlow,' he was chief mate * heave to 
 the ship. Mr. Barnes,' that was me ' man the life- 
 boat and pick me up.' 
 
 " While speaking he was throwing off his boots 
 and coat ; as he finished he plunged overboard after 
 the boy. 
 
 " There was some lively work clone in the next 
 
 3
 
 34: A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 half-hour. By the time the ship was brought into 
 the wind, the life-boat was ready to be lowered. I 
 sprang in, with six as good men as ever pulled an 
 oar. 
 
 " The waves ran high, and half the time we were 
 in the trough of the sea. But each time we rose on 
 a crest I looked anxiously about me, steering all 
 the time in the direction I thought the captain had 
 gone. 
 
 " For some minutes we saw nothing, and heard 
 nothing but the whistling of the storm. I was 'most 
 ready to give up all hopes of saving either the cap- 
 tain or the boy, when a shout a little to the star- 
 board attracted our attention, and there, buffet- 
 ing those great billows, as quietly as though on 
 the calmest water, was the captain, with the little 
 fellow clasped in his arms. 
 
 " The next instant we were alongside of him, and 
 in a moment more we had pulled him and his burden 
 into the boat. Both he and the lad were con- 
 scious, and the captain's one thought was still for 
 the comfort of the child. 
 
 " ' Your coat, Mr. Barnes,' he said, and as he 
 wrapped the boy in it he gave the order : 
 
 " ' Back to the ship, as soon as possible, lads.' 
 
 " We didn't need any special urging along that 
 line, however ; and gave way with hearty good-will. 
 It was a hard pull, and I can't say we should have 
 ever reached the vessel had not the squall swept 
 over almost as suddenly as it came. The sea still 
 remained rough, but we didn't have the wind to 
 pull against, and so reached the vessel at last. 
 
 u The happiest man I ever saw was that old Don, 
 when the boy, clothed in my jacket, piped up in his 
 Spanish : 
 
 " k Here! am, grandpa, all right. Captain Larkin 
 came overboard after me.' 
 
 " Well, it did seem as though the old Spaniard
 
 THE GREAT ANVIL PLANTATION. 35 
 
 couldn't do enough for us all. As for the captain, 
 that brave act of his made him the greatest hero on 
 earth in the eyes of the Don. He almost worshiped 
 him. 
 
 " And when he learned of the sorrow the captain 
 had recently passed through, he took that youngster 
 and put him into the officer's arms, saying : ' He's 
 yours, as well as mine. But for you I shouldn't 
 have him at all.' 
 
 " When we reached port, he gave every sailor 
 on board fifty pesos, and every officer one hundred, 
 except the captain. To him he said : 
 
 " ' You must go out to my estate with me,' and he 
 would not take no for an answer. 
 
 "Mr. Harlow, our chief mate, decided to leave 
 the vessel here, as he wanted to get back to the 
 States. So I was made first officer, and put in 
 charge of the ship while the captain was away. 
 
 " When he came back he remarked tome : 
 
 " ' Jack, I never -:aw such a plantation as that of 
 the old Don. It is up in the extreme northeastern 
 part of the island, where there is the highest peak 
 of the Luquillo range, known as El Yunque, or, as 
 we should say in English, The Anvil. It curiously 
 resembles the blacksmith's block in its shape, and 
 looms up there at the very least four thousand five 
 hundred feet high. 
 
 " ' On the southern slope of this mountain, and 
 running from the valley up under the sharp point of 
 The Anvil, is the Don's estate of nearly fifteen thou- 
 sand acres. It consists of forests of valuable woods, 
 of fields of tobacco and cotton, of orchards of bananas, 
 and oranges and lemons, and plantains, and pine- 
 apples, of lowlands of sugar-cane and rice. Stretch- 
 ing as it does from the lowest valley to the mount- 
 ain peak, there is hardly a crop of the tropics that 
 is not prolific there. Little Maximo will have a 
 fine property one of these days.'
 
 36 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 " But that wasn't all the captain had to tell. The 
 old Spaniard was interested in the firm to whom 
 our cargo had been consigned, and through his in- 
 fluence one of their finest freight and passenger 
 steamers, plying between San Juan and Barcelona, 
 had been offered Captain Larkin. It meant a per- 
 manent place and a big salary for him, and if I 
 would go along with him as his first officer, he was 
 going to accept. 
 
 "I said 'yes' as soon as the captain mentioned 
 it, and two weeks later, with the old brig sold at a 
 good price for the coasting trade, we sailed for 
 Spain in charge o as fine a craft, for her trade and 
 tonnage, as ever floated. 
 
 " Nearly every time we returned to the island the 
 old Don and the boy were at the city waiting to see 
 the captain ; sometimes they made the trip with us ; 
 and occasionally the captain went out to the planta- 
 tion for a short visit. 
 
 " Matters went on this way until about seven 
 years ago. I remember the time well, for instead of 
 seeing the old Spaniard and his grandson, an old 
 servitor from the estate came on board, as soon as 
 we were in the harbor, with a note for the captain. 
 
 " It told him little Maximo was dead had died 
 of the fever and that the old Don lay very low 
 with the same fatal disease. It furthermore re- 
 quested him to come down to the plantation at once. 
 
 " Stopping only long enough to report the voyage 
 to the agents, he obeyed this imperative summons.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DREAM. 37 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DREAM. 
 
 " AT the time of the steamer's sailing," continued 
 Mr. Barnes, " the captain had not returned, and so, 
 for the first time in my life, I made a voyage under 
 another skipper. When I got back to the island a 
 few weeks later, however, I found Captain Larkin 
 waiting for me. 
 
 " His story was as astonishing as it was simple. 
 The old Don was also dead, but before dying he had 
 deeded all of his property in Porto Rico to the cap- 
 tain and his heirs forever. 
 
 " For little Maximo's sake the estate was dear to 
 the captain, and he had decided to give up a sea- 
 faring life, and devote himself to the care and de- 
 velopment of the plantation. 
 
 " ' And what 1 want, Jack,' he went on, ' is this : 
 that you also quit the steamer, and come down to 
 the Anvil with me as my overseer or agent. The 
 estate is too large for one man to handle, and I need 
 some one with me whom I can trust as I do mv- 
 self.' 
 
 " I was too attached to the captain to leave him 
 now, and partly for that reason, and partly for the 
 handsome financial offer he made me, I gave up my 
 position, and went down to the plantation with 
 him. 
 
 " Of course I'd already formed some idea of the 
 hacienda from what the captain had told me ; but, 
 bless you, he had been altogether too modest in his
 
 38 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 way of putting it. The old Don was a good deal of 
 a business man for a Spaniard, and bad brought the 
 estate to a degree of cultivation hardly surpassed in 
 the whole island. 
 
 " Valleys, and hills, and mountain-side, were dotted 
 with native huts ; a thousand laborers toiled in the 
 forests, and orchards, and fields. Already the reve- 
 nues of the plantation were enormous ; and yet as 
 nothing beside what Yankee enterprise and inge- 
 nuity could make them. 
 
 " It was not long before the captain had his plans 
 of operation matured. The estate was to be divided 
 into small districts, and each placed under a gefe, or 
 native chief, who was to report at regular intervals 
 to me, the head agent. 
 
 " Machinery, to lighten the labor of the workmen, 
 and to increase the productive area of the estate, 
 was to be brought in from the States. Direct ship- 
 ment of the products to the most available ports 
 was to be arranged for. 
 
 "The oversight of these improvements, the bring- 
 ing in of needed supplies, and the paying off the 
 laborers have kept the captain and myself busy 
 indeed. 
 
 " For seven years this has been our life. Thus is 
 it that the Anvil has become a home to us; and 
 neither one of us expected to come to our native 
 land again until two or three weeks ago. Then our 
 whole plans -were suddenly changed by a dream of 
 the captain. 
 
 "I remember the morning well. I had gone into 
 the dining-room for my lunch and coffee, before 
 making my usual round among the overseers, and 
 to my surprise found the captain there before me. 
 He looked pale and distracted, and I said to him : 
 
 " ' What's up, Captain ? Don't you feel well ? ' 
 
 " * Not very, Jack,' he admitted, slowly. ' I didn't 
 sleep much last night, and all from a dream I had.'
 
 She led me into the back chamber, and there lying on the 
 bed was a lad of abotit sixteen years. " Our boy," she said, 
 and vanished. Page 39. Yankee Lad's Pluck,
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DREAM. 39 
 
 " * That's strange, Captain,' I responded. ' You 
 aren't often troubled that way.' 
 
 " ' JS* o,' he answered ; and then continued softly, 
 almost reverently : 
 
 " ' I saw Annie last night, Jack, as plainly as I 
 now see you. She came and sat down by my bed 
 side, saying : " Albert, come with me." 
 
 " ' I arose, and taking her by the hand, she led me 
 out of the house. At first I wondered if I was not 
 already in heaven, and so reunited with my loved 
 wife forever. 
 
 " ' But the way she led me was earthly enough. 
 Across the mountains to San Juan, over the sea by 
 steamer to New York, by train to Goodport, and 
 by team to Montville. 
 
 " ' Once in the village she took me to the grave- 
 yard. It was moonlight, and I had no difficulty in 
 seeing every object around me. I looked for tw r o 
 marble shafts, marking the places of my dead, but 
 I saw but one a simple stone, on which my wife's 
 name and age, and date of decease, were engraved 
 clearly. 
 
 " ' I wondered that there was no stone for my 
 child, and looked questioningly at my wife. 
 " Come with me," she again said, and led me out of 
 the cemetery, and down the street to the vine-clad 
 cottage her old home. 
 
 " ' Into the house, up the stairs, and into the back 
 chamber, we went ; and lying there on the bed, 
 sleeping quietly, was a lad of about sixteen years. 
 There was a look of my wife in the boy's face, and 
 I needed not her next exclamation to tell me who 
 he was. 
 
 " ' "Our boy," she said, and vanished. 
 
 " ' I awoke, Jack, and found it was a dream. But 
 I couldn't throw off the impression it made upon 
 me; and lying there wide awake, I thought the 
 matter over.
 
 40 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 " ' It was true that I had heard nothing in all those 
 years from the old home ; but Mary might have 
 written a dozen times, and the letters never have 
 reached me. It might be that my boy was really 
 alive. 
 
 " ' And, Jack, I will tell you what I have con- 
 cluded. It is to send you to America. I won't go 
 myself, for, if there should be nothing in my dream, 
 I couldn't stand it. I couldn't any way. But you 
 shall go. 
 
 " ' Visit your old home and friends first, if you 
 care to ; but go also over to Montville, and see how 
 it is with Mary ; and if, if the boy is really alive 
 send me word cable it at once to my bankers in 
 San Juan. For I shall arrange with them to send 
 any message that comes from you down here by a 
 special courier. 
 
 " ' Then write me in full all about the lad 3 r our 
 impressions of him and I will then decide whether 
 to return to the States myself, or have you bring the 
 boy out here to me. 
 
 " ' If he is dead, and my dream has no more to it 
 than dreams usually do then see that Mary is 
 provided for, for she may be in need. I see now 
 that 1 ought not to have neglected her as I have. 
 
 " ' This is asking much of you, Jack ; but I must 
 know whether I have a living child or not. I can't 
 shake off the impression my dream has made, until 
 I hava positive information from the old home that 
 the boy really died in his infancy, as I have so long 
 believed. Name your own price for the service, old 
 and faithful friend ; but say you will go.' 
 
 " There were tears in his eyes, and pleading in his 
 voice, as he held out his hand" to me, to seal the com- 
 pact. 
 
 " Grasping it heartily, I answered : 
 
 " ' Of course I will go, Captain,' and the next day 
 I started.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DREAM. 41 
 
 " I had to wait a little in San Juan for a steamer, 
 but took the first one that sailed, a fruiter bound 
 for Boston. Ten days later I landed in that city, 
 and by the first train came up to Goodport, my 
 native town. 
 
 " I hardly knew the place, it had grown so, but 
 found little change in the old farm on its suburbs, 
 where I was born, and where father and mother 
 died. The cousin to whom I sold the place before 
 I went to sea was still there, and welcomed me as 
 one from the dead. 
 
 " What I ought to have done was to have had 
 sense enough to come over here by team or on 
 horseback something I am used to. But my cousin 
 had a bicycle, and declared he had frequently ridden 
 over here on it to see his married daughter. I was 
 at once fascinated with the idea of learning to ride, 
 and then making my own trip over here on a wheel. 
 So I began to learn, and in a few days, thinking I 
 had mastered the whole business, set out with what 
 disastrous result you already know. 
 
 " But, lad, your father is alive and well. You 
 may be sure of that, and the next thing is to send 
 him word about yourself. I know we could tele- 
 phone over to Goodport from here, and have a 
 cablegram forwarded to him ; but I want my traps 
 from my cousin's, as I shall now make this my 
 home. So you may drive over to the city to-mor- 
 row, if pleasant, and attend to both errands. In 
 less than three days, if the courier from San Juan, 
 meets with no mishap, the captain will know you 
 are living. Then we'll write him full particulars, 
 and await his orders."
 
 42 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A BKAVE ACT. 
 
 EARLY the next morning Bert secured a horse and 
 buggy at the nearest stable, and drove over to Good- 
 port. It was a beautiful day, and the lad was in 
 full sympathy with it. 
 
 Life and its possibilities had never seemed so 
 great to him. He had, it is true, but a vague idea 
 of his father's plantation ; it was hard for him to 
 realize what thousands of acres in a tropical island, 
 with all its richness and variety of crops and fruits, 
 meant ; his estimation of his father's wealth might 
 be an exaggeration. 
 
 But to have a father ; to know that that father 
 was in a position to provide abundantly for him 
 beyond what any boy's father in all Montville could 
 do perhaps this gave him a buoyance and ecstasy 
 no words could express. He wanted to sing to 
 rival the very birds in their morning carols for 
 who was happier than he ? 
 
 And he was on the way to send that father a 
 message that would be worth more to him than all 
 his wealth great as that might be ; to tell him that 
 his boy was alive that he had some one to love 
 him : some one of his own flesh and blood to love. 
 Life would now be so different to him. 
 
 In his -nusings the lad found himself anticipating 
 the reception of that message. Plow would his 
 father be affected ? "Would the joy be too great 
 for him ? He had heard of instances where sudden 
 joy proved as great a shock as sudden sorrow.
 
 A BRAVE ACT. 43 
 
 What would his father do ? Would he catch the 
 first steamer for America, and hasten to his child ? 
 Or cable for his son to join him at once in San Juan ? 
 Or by the slower method of communication writing 
 make his wishes known ? Whichever it was Bert 
 secretly hoped the decision would be for him to join 
 his father rather than that his father should come 
 to him. 
 
 He had never been twenty miles from Montville 
 in all his life. Some of his schoolmates had been to 
 Boston ; others had been to New York ; while one 
 had actually been as far as Washington; and how 
 he had envied them all. 
 
 But what if he should go to Porto Rico and to 
 his father's own plantation there? Not one of his 
 school-fellows had made such a trip, or would be 
 likely to, and he should be the envy of them all. 
 
 Bert was human, and as he recalled the slights he 
 had received while in poverty from some who felt 
 that they were socially above him, he could not 
 repress entirely the feelings of exultation that would 
 arise as he recalled his sudden good fortune. 
 
 But he was not a vain boy, and had too much 
 good sense to entertain any idea of lording it over 
 his fellows, or to allow his sudden uplift in worldly 
 prospects to make any real difference in his treat- 
 ment of others. 
 
 He reached Goodport an hour before noon ; drove 
 up to the best hotel ; ordered his horse carefully 
 groomed and fed ; and booked his name for dinner. 
 
 Then he went to the telegraph office, and sent the 
 message Mr. Barnes had given him : 
 
 " GOODPORT, MAY 19TH, 1897. 
 " To CAPTAIN ALBERT LARKIN, 
 
 " Care of Marinos, Tempero, and Vadenti, 
 
 " San Juan, Porto Rico. 
 
 " Boy is alive and well. Full explanation by next 
 mail. ." BARNES."
 
 44 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 This pleasant duty discharged, he walked leisurely 
 about the streets of the city. He had been there 
 but once before, and there was much in its busy life 
 to attract his attention. 
 
 First he went down to the docks, and looked at 
 the shipping. A large steamer was leaving the 
 harbor, and he tried to imagine himself a passenger 
 on her deck, sailing for the far-off island where his 
 father was. 
 
 Slowly retracing his steps, he turned into a side 
 street, that led him to the railroad tracks. As he 
 approached the crossing, he saw that a train was 
 coming, and stopped to let it pass before venturing 
 over. 
 
 But his own caution was not exercised by a lady 
 and gentleman, and young miss, of perhaps twelve 
 years, who were just in front of him. 
 
 "I believe that is our train," the man said ; " we 
 must hurry,'' and though the warning bells were 
 already tinkling, and the street guards were drop- 
 ping into their place, he started to run across the 
 track ahead of the train, followed by his Avife and 
 daughter. 
 
 Bert watched them anxiously, for the swiftly 
 moving train was coming alarmingly near. The 
 gentleman and lady reached the farther side of the 
 crossing in safety, but as they did so, there came a 
 piercing scream from the young girl. 
 
 In an instant the lad saw what had happened. 
 Her foot had in some way caught between the rail 
 and the planking of the crossing, and she was unable 
 to remove it. 
 
 Her unfortunate predicament was discovered by 
 her parents at the same moment, and the mother 
 sent up the heart-rending cry : 
 
 " Ella ! Ella ! she will be killed ! " 
 
 The father dropped the valise he was carrying, 
 and started to his daughter's assistance; but the
 
 A BRAVE ACT. 45 
 
 next minute his wife fell in a dead faint at his feet, 
 and his attention was for the time distracted from 
 the peril his daughter was in a distraction that 
 would have been fatal to the young girl had not an- 
 other sprung to her help. 
 
 That other was Bert. The moment he realized 
 her danger, he had darted under the guarding-bars, 
 and run to her side. Catching hold of her ankle, he 
 gave the wedged foot a vigorous pull, but it did not 
 move. 
 
 He glanced up at the whistling engine, more to 
 judge how much time was left him than with any 
 thought of his own peril. It was not fifty feet away. 
 
 As he glanced he did the only thing to be clone, 
 and what perhaps but few would have thought of 
 unbuttoned the girl's shoe, gave the limb a quick 
 jerk, and with the girl in his arms jumped back- 
 wards off the track. 
 
 So close was the engine that the father, who had 
 left the fainting mother, and hurried to assist the 
 young stranger, thought both were ground beneath 
 its wheels. And so thought the crowd that had 
 gathered in the street just beyond the crossing. 
 But when the train had rushed by, there stood the 
 young lad, holding the pale and trembling girl in 
 his arms, both unhurt. 
 
 The father grasped the young rescuer's hand with- 
 out a word, and then, with the help of the bystand- 
 ers, both mother and daughter were carried to the 
 waiting-room of the depot, but a few rods away. 
 
 There restoratives were applied to the unconscious 
 lady, and soon she was able to clasp her daughter 
 in warm embrace, and assure herself that she had 
 escaped all injury. As was natural under the cir- 
 cumstances, however, both women for a while were 
 somewhat hysterical ; but at length calmed down 
 enough for the gentleman to say to them : 
 
 " We have lost our train, but there will be an-
 
 46 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 other within an hour ; so it will not make much 
 difference." 
 
 " I wish you had thought of that before ; we 
 might have been saved this terrible ordeal," retorted 
 his wife, more sharply than necessary, the waiting 
 boy could not help thinking. 
 
 " Let us be thankful it was no worse, mama," said 
 the girl, smiling gratefully at Bert. Then, evidently 
 to turn the attention of her parents from the unfor- 
 tunate experience of the morning, she added al- 
 most gaily : 
 
 " What am I to do ? I have but one shoe." 
 
 " Here's your other one, miss," remarked a man 
 in the crowd that was still gathered about the trio ; 
 " but I guess you will never wear it again ; " and as 
 he spoke he passed the tiny boot to her father. It 
 had been cut nearly in two by the flanges off the 
 passing wheels. 
 
 " I can go and get you another pair, if you wish, 
 Miss Ella ; there'll be plenty of time," Bert proposed, 
 and then blushed at his own audacity. 
 
 " I wish you would," her father responded, prompt- 
 ly. " Here is a five-dollar bill," taking his wallet 
 from his pocket. " What size is it you wear, Ella ? " 
 
 " Ones, B width, Misses' size," she answered, color- 
 ing in her turn a little, as she met Bert's admiring 
 gaze. 
 
 The boy took the money, and hastened off up the 
 street. He had noticed a shoe store on a corner of 
 the main thoroughfare of the city, while on the way 
 to the wharves an hour before. 
 
 Hurrying there, he selected a dainty pair of shoes 
 of the required size, paying three dollars for them, 
 and went back to the depot. 
 
 The gentleman had gone to check his grip, and 
 procure his tickets, so the lad, unhindered by the 
 mother, removed the remaining shoe from the girl's 
 foot, and buttoned on the new pair.
 
 A BRAVE ACT. 47 
 
 " They fit splendidly," she declared as Bert fin- 
 ished his self-imposed task. 
 
 The father at that moment returned. 
 
 " Here is your change, sir," the lad said immedi- 
 ately, handing the gentleman the two-dollar bill. 
 " I paid three dollars for the shoes." 
 
 " Why don't you give the money to the boy ? " the 
 wife interposed, as her husband took the bill and 
 returned it to his pocket. " I'm sure he deserves it." 
 
 " Because he has rendered us a service that cannot 
 be paid in dollars and cents," he replied warmly. 
 Then to Bert he said : 
 
 " Pardon me ! In our excitement we have not 
 thought to thank you for as heroic a deed as was 
 ever done, or even to ask your name ! " 
 
 " Bert Larkin," the young hero answered. 
 
 " Do you live in the city ? " 
 
 " No, sir ; over at Montville, eighteen miles from 
 here. I came over to the city an hour ago on busi- 
 ness, and happened to be at the crossing at the time 
 of your daughter's accident," the lad explained. 
 
 He wanted to ask that daughter's full name, and 
 where she lived, whether in the city 01 not, but 
 hardly dared to do so. While he was wondering if 
 there was any way in which he could ascertain these 
 to him all-important facts without a direct qu3S- 
 tion, the next train was announced. 
 
 At once the gentleman turned to Bert, saying: 
 " Here is my card. You will hear from me again ; 
 and we shall expect you, whenever you come to the 
 city, to call upon us. Eemember, moreover, if I 
 can ever be of any service to you, you have but to 
 command me." 
 
 Before Bert could look at the tiny piece of card- 
 board, the young girl caught his hand : 
 
 " You are the bravest boy in the world," she said, 
 impulsively ; " and I shall never forget you," then 
 she followed her father and mother to the train.
 
 48 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 Bert gazed after them until they were in the car ; 
 then he caught sight of the mutilated shoe. Pick- 
 ing it up his first thought was to board the train, 
 and give it to the girl, but he quickly changed his 
 mind. 
 
 " No, I'll keep it," he said. Then he glanced at 
 the card he still held in his hand. It read : 
 
 JOHN H. GREENE 
 ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR- AT-LAW. 
 
 WHITLOW BLOCK, ROOM 4, GOODPORT. 
 Residence, 175 Carey Avenue. 
 
 " So her name is Ella Greene," he murmured. 
 " I wonder if I shall ever see her again. Of course 
 I shall," he added after a moment's thought. " Her 
 father said I was to call when I came over here 
 again, and I will." 
 
 With that resolve he put the card carefully into 
 his vest pocket, and went out of the depot, and up 
 the street towards his hotel, with no idea of the 
 
 treat service Mr. Greene w T ould be able to render 
 im before many months had passed ; and at a time, 
 too, when he was in sore need.
 
 A CONTEMPTIBLE THICK. 49 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A CONTEMPTIBLE TRICK. 
 
 AT two o'clock Bert had his horse brought around 
 to the hotel door, and began his drive out to the old 
 homestead of Mr. Barnes. Mr. Garrison, the pres- 
 ent proprietor, was at home when he arrived there, 
 and to him the lad introduced himself. 
 
 " I am Bert Larkin, from Montville," he said. 
 " Mr. Barnes, your cousin, has sent me over here for 
 his baggage." 
 
 " So Cousin Jack wants his traps, does he ? How 
 is he? Is he going to stay over at Montville any 
 length of time? Didn't hint at such a thing when 
 he went away, and we looked for him to be back 
 long before this," remarked the farmer, looking at 
 the boy over his glasses. 
 
 Briefly Bert told of the accident that had be- 
 fallen the sailor. 
 
 " Of all things ! I want to know if he was fool 
 enough to coast down Sugar Loaf hill on his 
 wheel?" Mr. Garrison exclaimed when the lad 
 was done. " And he's stopping at your aunt's ? 
 Is that the Miss Wheeler he went over there to 
 see ? And are you the son of Captain Larkin, 
 whom he hoped to find ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," assented the boy, shortly. 
 
 " Then he hasn't been to my daughter's at all 
 
 yet ? I told him he better put up there, though he 
 
 thought he should go to the village hotel. May be 
 
 you know my gal ? She's the wife of Thompson, 
 
 4
 
 50 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 who keeps a grocery. Likely as not, though, she 
 has heard of the accident, and been to see her cousin 
 before now," the man rattled on. 
 
 " I know Thompson, and think he and his wife 
 know of Mr. Barnes' misfortune; but they haven't 
 called on him yet," replied Bert, curtly. He was 
 greatly surprised to learn that the man whom he 
 had helped was a relative by marriage of the mer- 
 chant who had discharged him for rendering that 
 assistance. 
 
 " Then I must write her, and she'll call right 
 away. We think lots of Cousin Jack," he went 
 on, with a significant wink of his left eye. " Not 
 a child or chick in the world, and has a pile of 
 money to leave somebody one of these days. 
 Might as well be us as any one, you know. Sure 
 he'll get well of this hurt, ain't ye*? " - 
 
 lie was satisfied with the boy's " Oh, yes ! " and 
 turned and went into the house. In five minutes he 
 reappeared, bringing two sailor's bags, apparently 
 stuffed to their fullest capacity. These he put into 
 the front of the buggy, saying : 
 
 " That's all the luggage! know of. Tell Jack I'll 
 come over to see him as soon as I've done planting," 
 and he watched the lad until he had driven out of 
 sight. 
 
 " I don't like it that Jack is at that old maid's," he 
 then soliloquized. " She is sort of related to that 
 Captain Larkin, and has been a second mother 
 to this boy. 'T would be just like a sailor to fall 
 in love with and marry the woman. I'll write 
 Sarah (his daughter) to hurry up and move him 
 over to her house, out of all the danger there may 
 be in that direction. We can't afford to lose any 
 reasonable show for his money. " 
 
 Five miles out from Goodport there was a road 
 which, leaving the turnpike, wound among the 
 neighboring hills, and around by Hamniersley Lake.
 
 A CONTEMPTIBLE TRICK. 51 
 
 Then, skirting that beautiful sheet of water, it re- 
 entered the main highway at the foot of Sugar 
 Loaf hill, as we have had occasion to notice in a 
 previous chapter. 
 
 It was a much longer route than that of the turn- 
 pike, and a more romantic one. But time or dis- 
 tance made little difference to Bert that afternoon, 
 so, on reaching this road, he turned into it, and 
 drove slowly along its circuitous path towards his 
 destination. 
 
 It was perhaps half-past five when he reached the 
 head of the lake, three miles out of the village. 
 Then he pulled up his horse. 
 
 " I wonder if I can find any Mayflowers over in 
 Narrow Glen," he said aloud ; " if so, I'll take some 
 home to Aunt Mary." 
 
 lie jumped out, hitched his horse to an adjacent 
 tree, and started down through the woods towards 
 the glen, a quarter of a mile distant. 
 
 In about half an hour he returned with both 
 hands full of the delicate and sweet-scented flowers 
 he had been seeking. As he came in sight of nis 
 conveyance, however, he saw something that led 
 him to drop the beautiful blossoms he had taken 
 such trouble to obtain, and dash off towards the 
 road at the top of his speed. 
 
 He reached the highway to find the two bags 
 and the mutilated shoe (for some reason that it 
 would have been hard for the lad to explain, the 
 latter was of more value to him than the luggage) 
 lying on the ground near where his horse had been 
 hitched, but the animal and wagon were moving 
 rapidly off towards the distant town. 
 
 Two boys, Sam Thompson and Bill Ecclestone, 
 who evidently had been fishing at the lake, were 
 now seated in the buggy. The former held the 
 reins, and as he whipped up the horse he called out, 
 tauntingly :
 
 52 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 " This pays up for last Saturday, Bert Larkin ! 
 "We had to walk then, and you can walk now. AVe 
 don't allow a fellow like you to have all the ease 
 and style when we can prevent it. So long," and 
 a moment later the rascally pair disappeared around 
 a bend in the road. 
 
 Between the lake and the Martin farm there were 
 only a fe\v houses, and these were for the most 
 part small affairs, occupied by foreigners, who 
 were employed as woodchoppers in the adjoining 
 forests. 
 
 Bert knew it would be impossible to secure a 
 horse and wagon from any of them for the rest of 
 his journey ; nor did he think it prudent to entrust 
 Mr. Barnes' baggage to the care of any of them 
 until he could return for it. He did, therefore, the 
 only thing to be done under the circumstances 
 shouldered the bags, and began his long tramp to 
 the village. 
 
 When opposite the laneway that led into the 
 Martin homestead he was at first inclined to go in 
 there and leave the bags with the farmer until the 
 next day. But on second thought he decided to 
 carry them on home. 
 
 " It will be dark before I reach the cottage," he 
 said to himself, " and maybe I can so manage that 
 no one will suspect the contemptible trick those 
 boys have played on me." 
 
 Before he reached the house his plan to conceal, 
 so far as possible, the loss of his horse and wagon 
 was matured. Dropping his load over the cottage 
 fence, where it could safely lie until he returned, he 
 went around to the stable. Assuming a confidence 
 he did not altogether feel, he asked in a matter-of 
 fact way : 
 
 "Those boys left the horse here all right, Mr. 
 Brown, didn't they ? " 
 
 To his relief the livery-man promptly replied :
 
 A CONTEMPTIBLE TRICK. 53 
 
 "Yes, all right and more than an hour ago. 
 They said you'd call and pay for it." 
 
 So he was able to settle for the use of the team 
 without having the o \vner suspect the real circum- 
 stances of the case. 
 
 " There, the worst is safely over," he thought in 
 secret exultation, as he hurried back towards the 
 cottage. " I can walk into the house with those 
 bags on my shoulder and Aunt Mary and Mr. Barnes 
 will think I have only brought them in from the 
 street." 
 
 But he was mistaken. Miss Wheeler had been up 
 town that afternoon, and seeing the two culprits as 
 they drove into the village, recognized the horse 
 and buggy as those Bert had hired. 
 
 She had no suspicion of the truth, however, but 
 thought possibly Bert was already home, and the 
 team was now being used on some errand for its 
 owner by the lads who were driving it. 
 
 On arriving at the cottage, and finding her neph- 
 ew had not returned, she became somewhat alarmed, 
 and waited his coming with anxiety. 
 
 As he came in tugging the sailor's luggage, she 
 at a glance took in his heated and dusty appearance 
 and asked in tones loud enough to reach Mr. Barnes' 
 ears : 
 
 " What in the world, Bert Larkin, have you been 
 doing ? How came you to let Sam Thompson and 
 Bill Ecclestone have your horse, while you tramped 
 home, and brought this load too ? " 
 
 There was no escape now. The story had to be 
 told, and when he had finished, his aunt freed her 
 mind. 
 
 " No one but a Thompson would do such a mean 
 trick as that ! You can make up your mind Sam 
 was the leader of it ! It is right on a par with his 
 father's meanness in discharging you for helping 
 Mr. Barnes ! "
 
 54 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 The patient, through the open doors, heard every 
 word of this conversation, and calling the woman 
 and lad to his bedside, insisted upon being told the 
 whole truth about the Thompsons, both father and 
 son. 
 
 Miss Wheeler, who knew nothing of her guest's 
 connection with the Thompson family, related both 
 stories, now so familiar to our readers, with com- 
 ments that were anything but creditable to the prin- 
 cipal in each, notwithstanding Bert's persistent 
 efforts to check her. 
 
 " And that's the kind of man Cousin Sarah married, 
 is it ? " questioned the sailor when she had completed 
 her tale, and there was evident disgust in his tones. 
 
 The cat was out of the bag now, and there was 
 no use in trying to catch him. But Miss Wheeler 
 understood why her nephew had tried to silence 
 her ; she was not the woman to eat her own words, 
 however, without just cause. 
 
 " I'm sorry for you, Mr. Barnes," she remarked 
 grimly. " It is awful to feel you are connected with 
 such a family ; but what I've said is true, and I 
 sha'n't change it." 
 
 " No apology is necessary, ma'am," interposed the 
 sick man. "Mrs. Thompson is my cousin's daughter 
 over at Goodport, and he wanted me to stop with 
 them while I was looking you up. But heaven 
 knows I'd rather be here with a broken limb than 
 stay with such people. For the first time I see how 
 fortunate my accident was. Good lordy ! discharge 
 a clerk for trying to be kind to a fellow-creature, 
 or for taking the time to be? It's enough to make 
 a minister say swear-words, now, isn't it ? " 
 
 " I think he'd stand a chance of being forgiven 
 before Thompson would," was Miss Wheeler's last 
 fling, as she went off to the kitchen to get Bert some 
 supper.
 
 MR. BARNES HAS A VISITOR. 55 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MR. BARNES HAS A VISITOR. 
 
 WHILE Bert was eating, his aunt busied herself in 
 unpacking Mr. Barnes' luggage, and placing the 
 articles in the bedroom closet. When she came to 
 the second bag she found a girl's shoe, horribly 
 mutilated, tied to its handle. Loosening it from the 
 cord, she held it out towards the sailor, asking with 
 some curiosity : 
 
 " What is this ? " 
 
 " I'm sure, ma'am, I don't know," the invalid an- 
 swered, as puzzled as she ; " I never saw it before." 
 
 Bert was, therefore, called on for another expla- 
 nation, and when his thrilling adventure had been 
 modestly told, Mr. Barnes remarked in evident 
 admiration : 
 
 " Like father, like son. Blood will tell now, 
 won't it? I must add this to the report I have 
 already prepared to send the captain. And that 
 makes me think, Bert. I wish you would write a 
 note to go along with it. Your father would be 
 pleased, I know, to have a letter from you." 
 
 " 1 have already written one," the lad admitted. 
 " I'll get it, and you can read it, if you wish." 
 
 While Mr. Barnes is perusing it, we will take the 
 liberty of looking over his shoulder. As he cannot 
 see us, I do not believe he will object : 
 
 " MONTVILLE, May 18, 1897. 
 " MY OWN DEAR FATHER, 
 
 " I have just heard Aunt Mary's and Mr. Barnes' 
 stories, telling me all about you. I can now under-
 
 56 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 stand why it is that you have remained unseen and 
 unknown all these years why we have been unseen 
 by and unknown to each other. And I want to 
 write this, that I may tell you that already I love 
 you with all my heart. The fact is, father, we shall 
 have to love each other a great deal to make up for 
 these years during- which we have not known each 
 other, and so could not express our love. 
 
 " I shall not write a long letter this time, father, 
 but I have two requests to make of you ; and as they 
 are the very first things I have asked of you, and 
 seem to me reasonable, I hope you will grant them. 
 
 " First, 1 want you to forgive Aunt Mary for the 
 wrong she has done you as freely as I do. No mother 
 could have done more for her own child than she 
 has done for me, and she now confesses her wrong, 
 and is sorry for it. Then, father, vou and I are too 
 happy, now that we have found each other, to cherish 
 any resentment against any one. So please write 
 us that you forgive Aunt Mary, and shall love her 
 the same as before. 
 
 " The second thing I wish to ask is this : May I not 
 come out to Porto Rico with Mr. Barnes, and stay 
 with you at The Anvil until another spring ? I will 
 then return to the States, and go to any school you 
 may select. But I want to be with you for a few 
 months, to see your home, and learn to know you as 
 other boys know their fathers. So please do write : 
 ' Come.' 
 
 " Your own boy, 
 
 " BERT." 
 
 " I guess, lad, you'll get both of your requests 
 fast enough," the sailor said, huskily, when he had 
 finished reading the letter. " I know the captain as 
 few know him, and that note will go right to his 
 heart. Here, put it into that envelope on the stand, 
 and seal it up. You can mail it the first time you
 
 MR. BARNES HAS A VISITOR. 5? 
 
 go up town, and then we'll wait the captain's 
 orders." 
 
 The next morning after breakfast Mr. Barnes 
 called B",rt to him, saying : 
 
 " I'm so sure you will be sent for, my lad. I 
 think you better learn Spanish. You'll need to 
 know it when on the island ; and then it will give 
 me something to do while I'm. lying here. Your 
 father and I have been so long among the Spaniards 
 we speak their language almost as well as the natives 
 themselves." 
 
 " I shall be more than glad to learn it ? " Bert 
 replied, heartily. " What books shall I get ? " 
 
 " Not a single one, youngster," the sick man an- 
 swered. " I'm going to teach it to you just as you 
 would pick it up among the Islanders. All you 
 need is a piece of paper and a pencil." 
 
 Mr. Barnes, as already noticed, had received a 
 good education in his earlier years, and at one time 
 taught school. Years of a seafaring life had ren- 
 dered him careless in his grammar, and sprinkled his 
 vocabulary with many nautical expressions ; but he 
 soon proved that he possessed an excellent knowledge 
 of Spanish, and knew how to impart it to another. 
 
 Beginning with the names of familiar objects, he 
 soon led his pupil to the phrases and sentences he 
 would be most likely to need in ordinary conversa- 
 tion. Bert made surprising progress through the 
 weeks that followed, and it was not long before 
 scholar and teacher were talking together in what 
 Miss Wheeler termed " the most outlandish lingo she 
 ever heard." 
 
 But this is anticipation. "We must go back to the 
 Saturday morning after Bert's trip over to Good- 
 port, and just a week later than Mr. Barnes' acci- 
 dent, when two important incidents happened. 
 
 The first was the reception of a cablegram, tele- 
 phoned over from Goodport, It read :
 
 58 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 " SAN JUAN, POKTO Kico, May 21, 1897. 
 " BARXES : 
 
 " Message received. Praise the Lord ! "Will await 
 your letter, then send you next orders. Give my 
 heart's best love to my boy. 
 
 " LAEKIN." 
 
 The second event was a caller for Mr. Barnes, in 
 the person of Mrs. Thompson, the wife of the 
 grocery man. 
 
 She drove to the door in a hack, that was evi- 
 dently stuffed with pillows and blankets, and tripping 
 airily up to the front door of the little cottage, 
 rapped the iron knocker noisily. Miss Wheeler soon 
 appeared, greeting the visitor courteously. 
 
 " Good morning, Miss Wheeler," the caller said, 
 with an attempt to be dignified and reserved. " My 
 cousin, Mr. John Barnes, is here, I believe. I Avould 
 like to see him." 
 
 " Certainly, Mrs Thompson ; take a seat in the 
 parlor, while I announce your coming." 
 
 " Oh, that isn't necessary at all," retorted the 
 merchant's wife, haughtily. " Cousin Jack will be 
 delighted to see me, and I've come to take him 
 home with me. I'll go right to his room," and she 
 brushed by her hostess into the sitting-room, and 
 on into the bedroom where the injured man was. 
 
 " Oh ! dear Cousin Jack," she cried, rushing up 
 to his bedside and throwing her arms about his 
 neck and kissing him eifusively. " I'm so sorry for 
 your accident, and as soon as pa wrote me about it, 
 I came right down here. My carriage is at the 
 door, and I'll take you out from these miserable 
 surroundings to a place where you'll have light and 
 air and good nursing." 
 
 " I'm very comfortable where I am, ma'am," her 
 relative said as soon as she had released him from 
 tier embrace,
 
 MR. BARNES HAS A VISITOR. 59 
 
 " But pa informed me it was your intention to 
 visit with us, while you attended to a few matters 
 of business in the town ; and I'm sure this is no 
 suitable place for you where there is only a maiden 
 lady and small boy to care for you. I have brought 
 crutches and pillows, and will call my driver, who 
 can assist you to the carriage ; I'm sure you will go 
 to my home very comfortably." 
 
 "Are you a fool, Sarah?" blurted out the old 
 sailor, with rising indignation. " Don't you know 
 my leg is broken, and I can't be moved for weeks 
 yet ? Then I'd like to know why this isn't a proper 
 place for me. I'll have you understand that Captain 
 Larkin's people are just as good as the Garrisons or 
 Thompsons ever were. There's one thing the 
 captain never was known to do, and that is to dis- 
 charge one of his hands and he's got a thousand 
 of them for helping a poor injured mortal. And 
 I never heard of his boy's stealing a horse either, 
 as your youngster has. Then when it comes to 
 money, Captain Larkin can buy out all the Garri- 
 sons and Thompsons ever had, with one year's in- 
 come, and not miss it. You haven't the sense you 
 were born with, Sarah, and that wasn't enough to 
 brag of." 
 
 Now Mrs. Thompson had come on this visit hoping 
 her cousin had not heard of her husband's act, 
 though she knew it was the talk of the whole town ; 
 but in case he did know of it and made any allusion 
 to it, she was prepared to admit it was a mistake, 
 growing out of her husband's hasty temper, and one 
 of which he had himself repented. In proof of which 
 she could cite his offer on the previous Monday to 
 give Bert his old position in the store. 
 
 But the sailor's allusion to her son as a thief 
 startled her. She was aware that Sam was head- 
 strong and unmanageable, but that he would steal 
 she was not so sure. She felt, therefore, she must
 
 80 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 be on firmer ground before she committed herself, 
 and quickly decided that to plead an entire igno- 
 rance of both her husband's and son's acts would be 
 the best policy. So, assuming an injured air, she 
 said : 
 
 ' I don't know what you mean, Cousin Jack." 
 
 " Then Til tell you," he responded, warmly ; and 
 in a direct and vigorous way he recounted the story 
 of Bert's discharge, and of Sam's running off with 
 the horse and buggy at Lake Ilammersley. 
 
 Relieved to find that her son's act was nothing 
 more serious, and secretly glad of the discomfiture 
 to which Bert had been put, she remarked : 
 
 " La, Cousin Jack, that was only one of Sam's 
 jokes. He meant no harm by it. And if, as you 
 say, my husband discharged young Larkin from the 
 store for helping you, I confess he was too hasty. 
 But likely as not there was some other reason for 
 his act, and he has preferred to bear the blame 
 rather than tell the true ground of dismissing the 
 boy, and so injuring him for life." There was an 
 insinuation in her tones that nettled the invalid 
 more than anything she had yet said. 
 
 " Humph ! " he ejaculated, wondering whether 
 his visitor was lying, or had herself been deceived. 
 " Humph ! That's neither here nor there. I'm go- 
 ing to stay right here till I'm well enough to return 
 to Porto Rico. So we'll let the matter drop." 
 
 " But you'll come to see us, as soon as you can 
 walk around, won't you, Cousin Jack ? I'm sure 
 you won't entirely desert your own flesh and blood 
 for strangers, because of one or two little mistakes 
 they may have made. None of us, you know, are 
 perfect ! " and she was smiling very sweetly now. 
 
 " If I make no promises, I sha'n't break them," 
 answered Mr. Barnes, testily. " When any one 
 steps on any of Captain Albert Larkin's folks, they 
 step on me. And when a man would allow a fellow-
 
 MR. BARNES HAS A VISITOR. 61 
 
 creature to lie helpless beside the road, and not aid 
 him, he hasn't got much humanity in him, accord- 
 ing to my way of thinking. He's worse than some 
 Spaniards that I know of," and he turned his face 
 to the wall as a hint for his visitor to depart. 
 
 When Mrs. Thompson returned to her carriage 
 she was a disappointed wortian. Her father's letter 
 had reached her the evening before, telling her who 
 the injured stranger at the vine-clad cottage was, 
 laying great stress upon his supposed wealth, and 
 urging her to do all she could to keep the sailor 
 from falling into the clutches of a designing woman. 
 
 Immediately Mrs. Thompson built her own air- 
 castles, in which her son Sam played the chief part 
 as the favorite and possible heir of the rich cousin. 
 Confidently she had gone forth with the expectation 
 of bringing the injured man home with her, or at 
 least securing the promise from him to come to her 
 house as soon as it would be safe for him to under- 
 take the journey. But his emphatic denunciation 
 of her husband and son dashed every hope to the 
 ground. 
 
 It was in a spirit of bitterness, therefore, that she 
 met those two members of her family at the supper 
 table. 
 
 Describing her visit, and repeating the sailor's 
 strong language, she added : 
 
 " A precious pair you are ! One of you, through 
 his innate meanness, has not only gotten the ill-will 
 of the entire community, but lost trade enough to 
 ruin us ; while the other, through his innate love of 
 mischief, has lost the chance of a fortune. I'm dis- 
 gusted with both of you, and hope I shall never see 
 your faces again," and she flounced out of the room. 
 
 She was angry, and in no sense meant what she 
 said, but her last declaration came very near being 
 true of one of her hearers.
 
 62 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A MIDNIGHT ALAKM. 
 
 THE watchman at the Montville Wooien Mills was 
 making his usual midnight round of the buildings 
 under his care. As he turned the corner of the 
 office to cross the yard to the engine house a sudden 
 glare over on the west side of the village caught his 
 attention. 
 
 He stopped to watch it, and against the dark 
 clouds which hung low down from the sky he now 
 saw reflected one, t\vo, three, a half dozen streams 
 of light. 
 
 " It's a fire, and right over towards Boss Loomis' 
 too. I must give the alarm," he muttered. 
 
 A minute later the steam- whistle in the engine 
 room was sending forth a long, piercing, almost un- 
 earthly, shriek. 
 
 It aroused the neighboring sleepers ; men half 
 awake leaped from their beds, and looked out of the 
 nearest windows. Every one who had a western 
 aspect saw the glare, and throwing up the sash, put 
 out his head, and screamed : 
 
 " Fire ! fire ! " 
 
 The sextons of the churches rushed to the towers 
 of the sacred edifices under their care, and soon the 
 clang of bells mingled with the shrieks of the steam 
 whistle. In ten minutes the whole town was 
 aroused. 
 
 Fire ! fire ! Clang ! clang ! Shriek ! shriek ! 
 Then steps hurry along the streets. With a shout
 
 A MIDNIGHT ALARM. 63 
 
 and a clatter and a tinkling of bells the old fire 
 engine the only one in the village, and a sorry 
 affair, comes rushing down the main avenue. 
 
 Where is the fire? Many, finding it is some dis- 
 tance from their homes, forget that it is near the 
 homes of others, and return selfishly to their beds. 
 Others, finding it alarmingly near, hurriedly dress, 
 and prepare to carry their valuables to a place of 
 safety. One family awake, and are terrified to find 
 the crackling flames above their own heads. It is 
 Thompson's, the grocery man. 
 
 Bareheaded, scantily "dressed, he and his wife es- 
 caped to the street ; the servant girl is there before 
 them ; for the moment Sam, the other inmate of 
 the house, is forgotten. 
 
 Now the engine arrives ; a wild, shouting, crowd 
 fills the yard ; the suction hose is dropped into the 
 well ; the handles are manned : the hose-pipe is run 
 forward, its brass nozzle turned towards the roaring 
 fire ; the order is shouted back : 
 
 " Give way ! " 
 
 The handles rise and fall ; the hose-pipe fills, and 
 creeps and squirms like a gigantic snake. Then out 
 bursts a stream of Avater from the nozzle, rises high 
 in the air, and hisses upon the flames. 
 
 Two minutes the work continues, then some one, 
 running across the yard, thoughtlessly steps upon 
 the hose. There is a report like a pistol. The pipe 
 has burst, and the unfortunate and unintentional 
 culprit is drenched in the gushing water, while the 
 stream playing on the fire suddenly ceases. There 
 is no spare hose ; the work of the engine is over for 
 the night. 
 
 " It's no use," says the foreman, examining the 
 break. " It will take an hour to mend that hole ; 
 the house is doomed." 
 
 " I'm sony, Mr. Thompson," he reports a moment 
 later to the merchant, who is rushing frantically
 
 fli A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 here and there, almost insane from the sudden ca- 
 lamity that has come upon him ; " but we can do 
 nothing to save your house." 
 
 What reply the groceryman would have made 
 was silenced forever by a woman's shriek. 
 
 It was Mrs. Thompson. Taken to a neighbor's, 
 after her escape from the building, and furnished 
 with clothing, she had now returned to the scene of 
 the disaster. 
 
 Glancing into every face as she came, she reached 
 her husband's side just as the captain of the firemen 
 addressed him. 
 
 " Sam ! " she gasped. " Where's Sam ? Have 
 you seen anything of him? " 
 
 " My God ! " the father exclaimed, starting back 
 with a look of horror on his face. " He's still in the 
 house ! " 
 
 " And I shall never see him again," screamed the 
 unhappy mother, tearing her hair. " Those were 
 my last words to him last night : ' I wish never to 
 see your face again,' and it's come true. But I didn't 
 mean it. Save my boy ! Will some one save my 
 boy!" 
 
 A hundred eyes turned and looked towards the 
 burning building. The whole front was in flames, 
 the roof was one solid blaze ; it was as much as one's 
 life was worth to venture in there. 
 
 Yet one person evidently intended to make the 
 trial, for a quiet voice asked : 
 
 " Where is his room ? " 
 
 " At the head of the back stairs, next to the ell," 
 Mr. Thompson hurriedly answered, turning to see 
 who it was that had asked the question. 
 
 But already the speaker was pushing his way 
 through the crowd towards the rear of the house, 
 and he could not tell who he was. 
 
 The throng surged in the same direction, and were 
 in time to see a vouth dash through the flames that
 
 A MIDNIGHT ALARM. 65 
 
 already roared above the back door, and disappear 
 on the stairway that led up from the entry. As he 
 went the light of the fire revealed his identity. In- 
 stantly there was a shout : 
 
 " Bert Larkin ! It's Bert Larkin ! " 
 
 It was indeed our young hero. Coining from the 
 extreme south part of the village, he had reached 
 the scene of the fire just in time to hear the mother's 
 heart-rending exclamations. Immediately asking in 
 which part of the house Sam slept, he, on hearing 
 the father's reph r , determined to rescue the imper- 
 iled lad, and before any one could remonstrate was 
 within the doomed building. 
 
 Fortunately the rear of the cottage Avas the freest 
 from the flames, and when once up the stairway, 
 Bert found himself able to make his way along the 
 narrow hallway, which separated the ell from the 
 main body of the house to the door of Sam's room. 
 It was open ; dense smoke filled the chamber ; and 
 the flames were bursting through the side walls. 
 
 Almost suffocated the brave lad groped his way 
 over to the bed ; there lay young Thompson, un- 
 conscious ; while already the fire was curling slowly 
 around the head-board, singeing his hair, and blister- 
 ing his face. To all appearances he was dead. 
 
 Snatching the still form from the couch, Bert 
 dragged it across the room and to the hallway. 
 There he stumbled and fell from exhaustion ; yet 
 that fall was his own salvation, and that of the lad 
 whom he was rescuing. 
 
 Directly across the narrow hallway was a door 
 leading into the ell. As Bert plunged forward his 
 head struck this door, and giving way, it let him 
 into a room comparatively free from smoke. 
 
 It filled rapidly from the hallway and adjacent 
 
 rooms, it is true ; but the brief breath of fresh air 
 
 the lad got revived him, and rising to his feet, he 
 
 drew his burden to the only window in the low 
 
 5
 
 66 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 chamber, at its extreme end, and as yet untouched 
 by the tire. 
 
 In an instant the boy tore the sashes out, threw 
 open the closed blinds, and called to the crowd 
 below : 
 
 " Help ! Take this body ! " 
 
 It was not over twelve feet to the ground, and in 
 a moment four stalwart men caught the unconscious 
 form, and bore it to the street, while Bert, lowering 
 himself full length out of the opening, held for a 
 second, and then dropped to the ground, unhurt. 
 
 Dr. Russell was in the throng of bystanders, and, 
 as the four men reached the feet of the agonized 
 parents with their limp burden, he stooped clown 
 and placed his hand over the boy's heart. 
 
 " He lives ! " he immediately announced. " Move 
 back all of you and give the lad air. Some one 
 bring me water. Here, Thompson, you and your 
 wife chafe his limbs, rubbing upwards towards the 
 heart. It was a close shave, as that singed hair 
 shows, but we shall save him yet." 
 
 As for the physician himself he was already hard 
 at work. Tearing away the boy's night shirt and 
 under garment, he freely exposed the throat and 
 chest. Then he turned his patient onto his side and 
 by gentle movements back and forth endeavored to 
 start the respiration. 
 
 A slight movement of the pallid lips a moment 
 later attracted his keen attention, and drawing a 
 small case from a side pocket, he took out a vial, 
 and placed a few drops of its contents between the 
 parting lips. 
 
 There was a gasp, an effort to swallow that ended 
 in success, and the eyes of the lad opened. 
 
 " What's the matter ? " he asked faintly. 
 
 " Here, that water," the doctor called to a man 
 who a moment before had run up with a pitcher of 
 the precious fluid.
 
 A MIDNIGHT ALARM. 67 
 
 Pouring some into his hand the physician bathed 
 the boy's temples and forehead, and wet the parched 
 lips, saying gently : 
 
 "You'll be all right soon, Sam; then we'll tell 
 you all about it." 
 
 The lad seemed satisfied, and closed his eyes, but 
 his breath came regularly. 
 
 Watching him a few minutes, Dr. Kussell said : 
 
 " The only thing now is to make him comfortable. 
 Where can we take him ? " 
 
 " Right into my house," answered Mr. Loomis, 
 who lived but two doors away. " And, Thompson, 
 you and your wife come too, and stay with us until 
 you can make your arrangements for a new home. 
 We have, as you know, plenty of room." 
 
 This invitation was accepted and the rescued lad, 
 followed by his parents, was carried to the kind and 
 thoughtful neighbor's. 
 
 Absorbed in the care of their child they gave 
 no thought to his brave rescuer. But not so with 
 the crowd of onlookers. As the merchant and 
 his family disappeared, a dozen tongues began to 
 ask: 
 
 " Bert Larkin ! Where is he ? Was he hurt ? 
 Find him ! " 
 
 Bert, however, though a silent and unnoticed 
 witness of the efforts made to restore Sam, had now 
 slipped quietly away, and could not be found.
 
 68 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 CHAPTEK XL 
 BERT'S TWO PRESENTS. 
 
 IN the excitement attendant upon the Thompson 
 fire, and the sympathy naturally extended to the 
 unfortunate family, Bert's heroic act was not for- 
 gotten. Nor did the lad's magnanimity in contrast 
 with the narrow and selfish spirit exhibited by the 
 merchant pass unnoticed. 
 
 Singular, too, as it may seem, Bill Ecclestone was 
 among the first to notice this contrast, and to speak 
 of it. Meeting Ned'Loomis a few hours after the 
 fire, he asked : 
 
 " How's Sam ? " 
 
 " Resting nicely," was the reply. " The doctor 
 thinks he'll be up and around to-morrow as usual." 
 
 " Mighty close- shave for him, though." 
 
 " Yes," admitted young Loomis ; " and lucky for 
 him too that Bert Larkin reached there just in time. 
 Who else would have dared rescue him ? " 
 
 "I say, Ned," Ecclestone suddenly questioned, 
 looking about him to see if any one else was near 
 enough to hear, " has Bert ever told you the mean 
 trick Sam and I played on him last week ? " 
 
 " No ; what was 'it ? " 
 
 With some hesitation the boy told how Sam and 
 he had run off with young Larkin's horse, leaving 
 him to walk home with his heavy load. He con- 
 cluded : 
 
 " I don't know what Sam will do when he gets
 
 BERT'S TWO PRESENTS. 69 
 
 out, but I'm ashamed of my part in the affair, and 
 am going to tell Bert so the first time I see him." 
 
 "I'd go and tell him now," suggested Ned; then 
 he added warmly : 
 
 " I tell you there are few fellows like Bert Lar- 
 kin ! I don't believe he stopped a single moment 
 to think how Sam and his father had used him, 
 when he learned of Sam's danger, but' just went 
 right ahead and rescued him as though he "was the 
 best friend he had in all the world." 
 
 " Of course he did," assented Bill, "and I've played 
 the last mean trick on him I ever shall ; or on any 
 one else, I guess," and stirred by the noblest motives 
 of all his life the lad -went off to find Bert and 
 acknowledge his wrong. 
 
 Ned, in his sincere admiration for his friend Bert, 
 did not hesitate to tell of Bill's confession, and be- 
 fore night the whole town knew and were discussing 
 young Larkin's heroism in the light cast upon it by 
 the contemptible acts of both Thompsons, the father 
 and son. 
 
 They were in a measure prepared, therefore, for 
 the position taken by the local paper, published a 
 little later in the week Describing in minute detail 
 the rescue of young Thompson, it, with the same 
 charming frankness, told of the rescuer's summary 
 discharge from the grocery a week before, and the 
 reason for it. It also printed a full account of the 
 dastardly trick Sam Thompson and Bill Ecclestone 
 had played upon young Larkin only three days 
 before the fire. 
 
 Nor was this all. In another column, with glar- 
 ing head-lines, it reprinted from The Goodport News 
 a thrilling account of Bert's brave act in saving Ella 
 Greene from the wheels of the passing train : 
 
 Then it had the following editorial : 
 
 " Seldom is it given to so young a lad, in a single
 
 7o A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 week, to reveal so much of his real character as 
 Albert Larkin, Jr., of this village. On Saturday, 
 May 15th, as noted in our last issue, he showed that 
 he possessed the spirit and love of t} e Good Samar- 
 itan by helping John Barnes, the unfortunate sailor, 
 who was injured at Martin's Brook, near Sugar Loaf 
 hill. On Wednesday, the 19th, as a glance at an- 
 other column (in which we reprint an article from 
 The Good-port News) will show, he, while in that city, 
 bravely rescued the little daughter of Hon. John T. 
 Greene from a passing train. Then on Saturday 
 night, the 22d, or to be more accurate, early Sunday 
 morning, the 23d, he, with a magnanimity seldom 
 paralleled, risked his life to save a lad, who, but a 
 few days before, had played a most despicable trick 
 upon him the son of the very merchant who had 
 within a week unjustly discharged him. 
 
 Such heroism and magnanimity surely deserve 
 some substantial recognition on the part of our 
 town's people. The Journal suggests a handsome 
 gold watch, suitably engraved, as a fitting testi- 
 monial, and starts the subscription with a gift of ten 
 dollars. All other subscriptions will be received at 
 this office, and duly acknowledged in our columns." 
 
 Before the next issue of The Journal, however, 
 enough money had been subscribed to purchase a 
 costly time-piece, and this was sent to Bert on June 
 10th, his sixteenth birthday. 
 
 Mr. Barnes looked over the list of donors, and 
 then throwing down the paper with a show of dis- 
 gust, exclaimed : 
 
 " Do you notice, Miss "Wheeler, not one of those 
 Thompsons, father, mother, or son, gave a dollar 
 towards the watch 5" 
 
 " Yes," was the grim reply, u and you were a fool 
 to expect it. You wouldn't, had you known them as 
 long as I have,"
 
 BERT'S TWO PRESENTS. 71 
 
 " They lost a good deal by the fire," said Bert, 
 who heard these remarks, apologetically, " and you 
 could hardly expect it of them. " I'm sure, however, 
 they are grateful for all I did for them.'"' 
 
 " Did you ever hear them say so ? " asked the 
 sailor, sharply. 
 
 " No," thelad reluctantly admitted, " that is, not 
 yet." 
 
 " Well, they've had time enough," remarked his 
 aunt, dryly ; " and so have those other people over 
 at Goodport. Seems to me folks nowadays lack the 
 very first principles of true politeness." 
 
 " Or may be they don't value their lives very 
 highly," put in the invalid. " I have heard of a man 
 who gave the fellow that rescued him from drown- 
 ing a twenty-five-cent piece. Maybe you'll get as 
 much as that for the double risk you ran, Bert." 
 
 " I did not try to save either one from any 
 thought of rew r ard," the lad answered somewhat 
 indignantly ; " and whether the Thompsons ever 
 thank me for what I did for Sam makes little differ- 
 ence. Mr. Greene and Ella both thanked me for res- 
 cuing her, and I know I shall both hear from and 
 see them again." 
 
 And he was right ; for the very next day he re- 
 ceived the following prettily worded invitation 
 from Miss Ella herself : 
 
 " GOODPORT, June 11, 1897. 
 " ME. ALBERT LARKIN, JR., 
 
 " Papa, says I am to write and ask you to spend 
 next week Wednesday, June 16th, with us. We 
 shall expect you in time for dinner, and to remain 
 over night. We all shall be glad to see you. 
 
 " Your friend, 
 
 " ELLA F. GREENE." 
 
 Of course Bert returned a favorable answer, and
 
 72 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 the following Wednesday drove over to Good port. 
 Putting up his horse at the hotel stable, he inquired 
 the way to 175 Carey Avenue, the Greene res- 
 idence. 
 
 Following closely the directions given him > he 
 soon came out upon a broad, handsome street, 
 beautifully shaded with gigantic elms. Along either 
 side were houses that told more of the comfort and 
 refinement to be found within than of any 
 great attempt towards outward show and adorn- 
 ment. By these he slowly passed until he reached 
 the desired number. 
 
 It was a pretty cottage, situated back a little 
 from the street, with a well-kept law T n and flower- 
 beds, while twin fountains, one on each side of the 
 flagstone walk, sent forth their cool and sparkling 
 waters. 
 
 "With some trepidation, it must be confessed, the 
 lad went up the path, and rang the bell. As he 
 waited a clock, somewhere within the house, struck 
 eleven. He counted the strokes, and was just won- 
 dering if he was too early, when the door was thrown 
 open, and there stood Ella herself. 
 
 " I thought it was you," she said with a pretty 
 blush, catching hold of his extended hand, " and so 
 told Bridget, our girl, I would come to the door. 
 And you see I wasn't disappointed." 
 
 " I think you must have known my ring; you are 
 so used to it," replied Bert in fun. 
 
 " I did know it," she stoutly affirmed. " It was 
 the same short, quick pull you gave when you freed 
 my foot from that horrid 'rail. I should know it 
 any time, whether you come often or not." 
 
 She now led the lad into the parlor, telling him 
 her mother would be in within a few minutes, and 
 her. father before the dinner hour, which was at one. 
 
 " I came very early then, didn't I ? " said Bert in 
 some dismay.
 
 BERT'S TWO PRESENTS. 73 
 
 "Not one moment before you were expected," 
 she answered. " Papa said he would wager me a 
 new pair of gloves that you would walk up to the 
 door just as the clock svas striking eleven; but I 
 looked for you before that." 
 
 Before the boy could reply a step was heard in 
 the hall, and Mrs. Greene entered. 
 
 She greeted the lad with a warmth he had not 
 anticipated from her, and as this had been the one 
 Cc-,use of all his dread, he now felt quite at his ease. 
 
 " I presume you expected to hear from us before 
 now, Mr. Larkin," she said, when she was seated in 
 a comfortable rocker within the bay window of the 
 room. 
 
 " Oh ! no, ma'am," he hastened to protest ; " I 
 was not sure I should hear from you at all until I 
 called." 
 
 " We were summoned to my mother's in Ohio," 
 Mrs. Greene explained. " St.e was taken critically 
 ill, and it was feared she could not recover. That 
 accounts for our haste in trying to catch the train 
 that day you saved my little daughter, and perhaps, 
 too, for some of my own irritableness that morn- 
 ing." 
 
 "I hope your mother is better," said Bert 
 politely. 
 
 " Yes, she was out of all danger before we arrived 
 at Cleveland. But we stayed until she was about 
 the house again. In fact \ve did not arrive home 
 until the tenth, and the next day Ella wrote to you." 
 
 " I am sure it was very good of you," Bert an- 
 swered, addressing the mother, but looking at the 
 daughter as though he meant a portion of his re- 
 mark for her. 
 
 " You are a very brave boy. We've heard some- 
 thing about your bravery since that day, too," re- 
 sponded Mrs. Greene, heartily. But to us nothing 
 can surpass the saving of our "child,"
 
 74 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 " I wish you wouldn't mention it," was the impul- 
 sive reply. " I should have been a brute to have stood 
 there and let the train run over Ella. It was noth- 
 ing more than any one would have done." 
 
 " Strange, then, they stood there and allowed you 
 to do it, isn't it ? " said a new voice, and Mr. Greene 
 came in. 
 
 His greeting was as hearty as his wife's and 
 daughter's had been ; and he was soon chatting 
 away with the lad as though they were old friends. 
 
 He soon showed, moreover, that he was familiar 
 not only with the lad's history since the memorable 
 Wednesday three weeks before when they had first 
 met, but, and what puzzled Bert more, with his his- 
 tory from childhood. 
 
 " I presume you hope to join your father in Porto 
 Rico before long, don't you ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; for the winter at least," the boy ad- 
 mitted. Then he inquired : " Did you know my 
 father, sir ? " 
 
 " No, I never saw him," replied the lawyer ; " but 
 I don't want you to think I was so little interested 
 in you as to leave you entirely out of mind for the 
 last three weeks. 
 
 " I have had good friends to work for me, even if 
 I was west, and I know all about your tramp from 
 Hammersley Lake ; all about a certain fire in Mont- 
 ville ; all about a gold watch you have in your 
 pocket, a gift from your townspeople ; all about a 
 certain sailor lying disabled in your home, the mes- 
 senger of your father, who lives on a large plantation 
 under the shadow of the great Anvil Mountain in 
 Porto Rico. We lawyers have a way of getting at 
 things that is mysterious to the uninitiated, haven't 
 we, pet?" and he caught up his daughter in his 
 arms, and pinched her plump cheeks. 
 
 She nodded her head wisely : 
 
 " Of course we have, papa," she answered ; " and
 
 BERT'S TWO PRESENTS. 75 
 
 all we have learned about him was good, wasn't it ? 
 He's just the best boy in all in all ' and she 
 stopped, evidently trying to find a comparison large 
 enough to suit her. 
 
 " Montville," suggested her father, teasingly. 
 
 " Montville ! " she cried, indignantly ; "he's better 
 than any boy in Goodport, or Cleveland, or the 
 whole world, Papa Greene, and you know it." 
 
 " There, Bert, you see what she thinks of you, 
 anyway," said Mr. Greene, putting her down. 
 
 Bert glanced at the girl in a way that said as 
 plainly as the words could have done : " And 1 think 
 just as much of her as she does of me," but he only 
 remarked : 
 
 " I am very glad, sir." 
 
 Dinner was now announced ; and when that was 
 eaten, the lawyer asked : 
 
 " How would you like a trip down the harbor 
 this afternoon, Bert ? " 
 
 " I don't know of anything I should like better, 
 sir," he responded, enthusiastically. 
 
 " Then, mother, you and Ella may come down to 
 Dyer's Wharf at half-past two," said the lawyer to 
 his wife, " I'll take Bert down town with me. I've 
 a few friends I wish to introduce him to." 
 
 Had Bert been the governor of the state he could 
 not have received any more attention than he did 
 for the next hour. To lawyers, judges, physicians, 
 bankers, and city officials, he was invariably pre- 
 sented : 
 
 "This is the lad that so heroically saved my 
 daughter Ella a few weeks ago, Albert Larkin, Jr., 
 son of Captain Albert Larkin of Porto Rico." 
 
 In many cases the gentlemen, after acknowledging 
 the introduction, would say : 
 
 "' We knew your father, sir. He was one of the 
 best captains that ever sailed from this port. Some 
 of the father in the lad, eh, Greene ? "
 
 76 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 Pleasant as this was the boy was glad when the 
 time was up, and Mr. Greene and he met the ladies 
 at the wharf, and went on board the finest launch 
 he had ever seen. 
 
 Then followed an afternoon and evening never to 
 be forgotten. In and out among the islands of the 
 harbor they glided ; now slowly to take in the 
 beautiful scenery ; then at a speed that rivaled the 
 fleetest horse. At a great hotel away down the bay 
 they took their supper, returning home by moon- 
 light. 
 
 " I cannot tell you how much I thank you for this 
 day of pleasure, Mr. Greene," the grateful boy said, 
 as he was about to be shown to his room for the 
 night. 
 
 " Ella has something she wants to give you as the 
 crowning pleasure of the day for us all," said the 
 attorney, looking at his daughter. "It is to be 
 opened in your room." 
 
 She took a little package her father handed her, 
 and walked over to the lad. 
 
 " Whenever you look at this, think of the girl 
 who prays every night for God to bless you," she 
 said, simply. 
 
 With a " thank you," Bert followed his host up 
 to the guest-chamber, and when quite alone unwrapt 
 the tiny .package. 
 
 First, there was a velvet case ; inside of this there 
 was a golden locket, studded with gems. Touching 
 its spring, the cases flew open, revealing a face on 
 one side and an inscription on the other. 
 
 The face was Ella's. The inscription read : 
 
 " From the girl whose life you saved, May 19th, 1897."
 
 OUTWITTED. 77 
 
 CHAPTEK XII. 
 
 OUTWITTED. 
 
 BY the middle of July Mr. Barnes was able to 
 hobble around on crutches ; but before that time 
 letters had been received from Captain Larkin. 
 
 The letter to the sailor was a brief one. It 
 thanked him for his faithfulness in carrying out his 
 employer's orders ; it contained a draft large enough 
 to reimburse him for whatever sums he had already 
 expended, and to meet all other expenses likely to 
 be incurred ; and it expressed a hope that he would 
 be able to sail for Porto Rico by the middle of 
 September, bringing the lad with him. 
 
 The letter to Bert was longer, and disclosed the 
 yearning love of the fathers heart. 
 
 " I should come to you by the outgoing steamer, 
 my dear boy," it read, " were there any one to leave 
 in charge of the plantation. Since this is an impossi- 
 bility, 1 have directed Jack to bring you out to me. 
 
 " This, and the other request you made, are cheer- 
 fully granted. In proof of it, I will add, bring your 
 aunt out to the island with you, if she cares to 
 come ; if not, see that some one is secured to be a 
 companion for her during the months you are ab- 
 sent, and that she is provided with every comfort 
 she desires. From this time I shall send her quar- 
 terly remittances, and she need have no further 
 anxiety for her financial future. 
 
 " I can hardly wait for your coming, my son.
 
 78 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 Every day will be a long day until we meet. That 
 I should have a boy, and such a boy as Jack reports 
 you to be, seems too good to be true. I am un worthy 
 of so great a blessing. 
 
 " You can hardly anticipate more in the love of a 
 father, than I in the affection of a son ; and we 
 will trust that both of us shall be spared many years 
 to enjoy each other's companionship. 
 
 " Jack will pay all your necessary expenses, and 
 provide a suitable outfit for your journey and so- 
 journ here. But you will need a little pocket- 
 money of your o\vn, to do as you please with. I 
 therefore enclose your allowance for two months, 
 July and August a great pleasure, I assure you. 
 " In deepest love, 
 " Your father, 
 
 " ALBERT LARKIN." 
 
 Glancing at the draft, after he had read the letter, 
 Bert saw that it was for two hundred dollars. Call- 
 ing his aunt's attention to the amount, he remarked, 
 with pardonable pride : 
 
 u See, Aunt Mary, that looks as if father meant to 
 give me one hundred dollars a month for my own." 
 
 " What in the world will you do with it ? " ques- 
 tioned the amazed woman. 
 
 " Get me a fast horse, and a yacht, and an eye- 
 glass, and a cane, and a pug dog, like all the other 
 swells, I presume," the boy replied, mischievously. 
 
 " Go 'long ! You won't do anything of the kind, 
 Bert Larkin. You've too good sense for that." 
 
 " I hope so, auntie," the lad responded, seriously. 
 " But I know one thing I am going to use part of 
 the money for, and that is to give Jimmie Hough 
 his sight. You know, Aunt Mary, how his mother 
 worked and saved to get the hundred dollars neces- 
 sary for the operation which they say will enable 
 the little fellow to see. Then came the sickness
 
 OUTWITTED. 79 
 
 and death of her other child, and she had to take 
 the money she'd saved to pay those expenses. 
 "Well, I'm "going to give her the hundred dollars, 
 and Jimmy can be sent to the hospital at once." 
 
 " AVhat else are you going to do, Bert ? " Miss 
 "Wheeler asked, with visible emotion. 
 
 " Buy a present for Ella Greene," responded the 
 bov, laughing to conceal the flush that swept over 
 his face. 
 
 " He's beginning youn^, now, isn't he, ma'am ? " 
 questioned Mr. Barnes, who had so far been only a 
 listener to the conversation. " Pity people couldn't 
 be sensible as you and I have been. Though, per- 
 haps, had you and I met years ago, Miss Wheeler, 
 we'd have been as foolish as any of them." And 
 Bert thought there was more earnestness than jest 
 in the sailor's tones. 
 
 " What if he should marry Aunt Mary," he thought ; 
 " they are about of an age, and he might do a 
 great deal worse," and he looked at his aunt, wait- 
 ing with some curiosity to hear what she should 
 say. 
 
 She colored considerably at Mr. Barnes' words, 
 but hastily answered : 
 
 " What an idea, sir ! You are foolish to think 
 of it." Then she arose and left the room to hide 
 her embarrassment. 
 
 " I'm not joking, lad," the cripple confessed, as she 
 disappeared. " If we were twenty years younger, 
 or even ten, I wouldn't leave the States without 
 asking her to join fortunes with me. But I'm only 
 an old codger now, unfit for any woman." And 
 lighting his pipe, he relapsed into his former silence. 
 
 " ' Faint heart never won fair lady,' " quoted 
 Bert, taking up his hat and leaving the house for a 
 walk. 
 
 He went towards the village, and soon reached its 
 business street. Passing by the grocery, where only
 
 80 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 a short time before he was clerk, he came to the 
 green. Sitting down on one of the benches, under 
 the shade of a huge maple, he meditated upon what 
 was to him a very pleasant subject the nature of 
 the present he should select for his girl friend over 
 at Goodport. 
 
 " Of course I'll give her my picture," he solilo- 
 quized, " and I'll go over to the city to have it 
 taken. But I want to give her something else 
 something that will suggest our first meeting. "What 
 shall it be?" 
 
 He thought of a dozen things, but none suited his 
 fancy. 
 
 " I can visit the stores when over there," he con- 
 cluded, " and maybe I'll see something that will be 
 just the thing." 
 
 This important decision once reached, he was 
 about to rise and continue his walk, when some one 
 called out : 
 
 "Hello, Larkin!" 
 
 He turned, thinking he recognized the voice, and 
 sa\v Sam Thompson. 
 
 It was the first time they had met since the fire, 
 and wondering what he wanted, Bert waited for him 
 to come up. 
 
 " Is that old sailor able to hobble around yet ? " 
 he asked, sitting down on the bench. 
 
 " If you mean Mr. Barnes, yes," our hero replied, 
 coldly. 
 
 " Well, I'll tell ma, and she'll invite him up to 
 dinner some day. We are all settled over in Parker's 
 new house ; have new furniture, and everything 
 else in bang-up style. Pa groaned over everything 
 that was bought, but ma would have it, and he had 
 to give in. It puts that cottage of yours in the 
 shade, I tell you. Wish we owned the place, 
 but it's a little too much for dad's pocketbook. Ma 
 says, ' Get old Barnes up there, and maybe we can
 
 OUTWITTED. 81 
 
 coax him to buy it for us.' He's lots of money, and 
 can do it just as well as not. 
 
 " I hear you are going out to Porto Rico in the 
 fall, Bert,'' he rattled on ; " and I wish you'd get 
 Cousin Jack to take me along. He can afford it, 
 and you and I'd get on nicely together. What do 
 you say ? " 
 
 " I might mention it to Mr. Barnes," his compan- 
 ion suggested ; but he did not think it wise to add 
 that he already knew what the sailor would say to 
 the proposition. 
 
 " That's a good fellow ! " Sam exclaimed, patron- 
 izingly ; " and though I wouldn't tell every one, I'll 
 tell you what we are up to. Ma and me thought 
 out the scheme. Only get Cousin Jack to take me 
 along to the island with him, and likely as not he'll 
 grow so fond of me he'll make me his heir." 
 
 " What if he should get married ? " suggested 
 Bert, jocosely. 
 
 "You don't suppose he will, do you?" asked 
 young Thompson in alarm. " Ma thought of that 
 - that he might fall in love with your aunt, while 
 she was nursing him ; that's why she wanted to move 
 him up to our house. But I told her he wouldn't 
 think of marrying any one as old and as poor as 
 your Aunt Mary, and she concluded I was right." 
 
 His comrade wisely made no reply ; but secretly 
 concluded the very thing the Thompsons feared 
 might happen. 
 
 " I've been thinking of another thing it's a part 
 of the plan," said the chatterer, growing more con- 
 fidential. " If I can only contrive some way to do 
 Cousin Jack a great favor, as you did when you 
 picked him up by the turnpike, why I'd just win his 
 gratitude. It'll come, too, don't you forget it. I've an 
 idea I shall work out before he's off for Porto Rico.' 
 
 " What is it ? " asked Bert, innocently. 
 
 "It's my secret," replied Thompson, compla- 
 6
 
 gg A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 cently ; " not even ma knows of it. But you'll hear 
 of it. The papers will publish it, as they did all 
 those nice things about you ; and if the people don't 
 give me a watch, probably Cousin Jack will, he'll 
 be so grateful. See ! " and he arose and strutted 
 away down the street, pompously. 
 
 As Mr. Barnes grew stronger he began to take 
 walks uptown, and finally got so he went as far as 
 the public square. Sitting sometimes on a bench, 
 and sometimes on the steps of one of the churches 
 that faced the green, he would rest himself before 
 returning home. 
 
 One August afternoon he sat resting there. It 
 was warm, and more tired than usual he dropped 
 off into a doze. From this he was rudely awakened 
 by some one snatching his crutches, and he looked 
 around just in time to see an unknown lad making 
 off with the sticks. The boy disappeared around the 
 nearest corner before he could do, or say, anything, 
 and for a few minutes he sat there helpless. 
 
 Then another youth came running around the 
 same corner with the crutches in his arms. Hastily 
 approaching the sailor, he offered him his indispen- 
 sable supports, saying : 
 
 "I was just in time, Mr. Barnes, to catch the 
 fellow who stole your sticks, and after a tussle se- 
 cured them and brought them back to you," and he 
 puffed as though quite out of breath from his efforts. 
 
 " Thank ye ! thank ye ! Here's a dollar for your 
 trouble," said the lame man, taking out his wallet. 
 " I can't see what that young rascal wanted to bother 
 a helpless man like me for. But your kindness does 
 you credit. May I ask your name ? " 
 
 " Sam Thompson, your cousin's only son," the boy 
 answered, pocketing the bill given him with alacrity. 
 
 " Oh ! " ejaculated the sailor, looking searchingly 
 at the youngster ; but if any suspicion as to the 
 genuineness of the lad's kindness crossed his mind he
 
 OUTWITTED. 83 
 
 did not show it. On the other hand, his next words 
 seemed to indicate a still heartier appreciation of the 
 boy's act. 
 
 " I'm glad Cousin Sarah has such a thoughtful son ; 
 tell her I told you so," he said. 
 
 " Thank you, Cousin Jack," Sam replied, politely ; 
 " it's kind of you, I'm sure," but he acted uneasy and 
 as though he was anxious to get away. 
 
 " "Will you carry this stick for me as far as the 
 street, and let me rest one hand on your shoulder ? " 
 Mr. Barnes now asked, smilingly. " I want to see 
 if I can go on one crutch." 
 
 Unwittingly Sam fell into the trap his cousin was 
 setting for him. 
 
 He took the crutch indicated under his left arm, 
 placed himself so the lame man could put one hand 
 on his right shoulder, and then walked slowly by his 
 side as he hobbled along. 
 
 Their course took them near the street corner 
 which Sam had just turned. 
 
 " I believe I can go a little farther with your help, 
 Sam," Mr. Barnes remarked, as they reached the 
 street ; and they went on to the next crossing. 
 
 " I'll get over to the other sidewalk, and then you 
 can give me the other stick," he now said. 
 
 This brought them within three feet of the spot 
 towards "which the sailor's ruse had been steadily 
 leading them. 
 
 " Now the crutch, youngster ; " there was a 
 change in Mr. Barnes' tones, but the unsuspecting 
 lad did not notice it, and surrendered the support 
 he was carrying. 
 
 The next instant, and with a speed that no one 
 would have thought possible, the cripple whirled 
 around the corner. 
 
 lie was in time to catch and collar the boy who 
 was standing there, waiting for young Thompson's 
 return,
 
 84 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 " Let me go ! I meant no harm, sir ! Sam said 
 he'd give me a half-dollar to do it, and I \vas wait- 
 ing for the money," whined the captured culprit. 
 
 8am, too dazed for a moment by this sudden turn 
 in the affair to run away or to talk, finally blurted 
 out: 
 
 " He lies ! I never made any bargain with him." 
 
 "Strange he should be Availing here, and run the 
 risk of being caught, now isn't it," remarked the 
 sailor, dryly. ""Well, you can give him that dollar 
 I gave you." 
 
 There was a sternness in Mr. Barnes' voice that 
 admitted of no trifling, and reluctantly Sam sur- 
 rendered the bill to the other lad. 
 
 " That is for your exposure of the real culprit," 
 said the cripple to the boy he still held. Then to 
 young Thompson he added : " Now pay him the 
 half-dollar you promised him ; he did his work well, 
 and is entitled to his pay." 
 
 Even more reluctantly than he had yielded up 
 the dollar, Sam took two quarters from his pocket 
 and handed them over to his employee. 
 
 " You may go, but never get into such a scrape 
 again," advised the sailor, releasing his hold on the 
 lad. 
 
 " I won't, sir," promised the boy, running down 
 the street. 
 
 Then Mr. Barnes turned his full attention to Sam. 
 
 " A pretty little affair, wasn't it ? " he asked with 
 withering sarcasm. " Thought you'd play the part 
 of a public benefactor, didn't ye ? wanted to get 
 your name in the papers to pose as a hero ? A 
 nice little scheme, and it's too bad to disappoint you 
 so I'll go around to the news office, and report the 
 matter myself. Good day, sir ! " and he was as 
 good as his word. The whole story was given in 
 the next issue of The Journal but somehow neither 
 one of the Thompson family was satisfied with it.
 
 ALONE ON THE SEA. 85 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 ALONE ON THE SEA. 
 
 IT was finally decided that Mr. Barnes and Bert 
 should sail from New York city, September 15th, 
 on the steamer Alhambra, for San Juan. 
 
 " I shall be able by that time to walk with only a 
 cane to lean upon, and with your help now and 
 then, lad, can get along nicely," the sailor said. 
 
 " I wish Aunt Mary would go along too," the boy 
 remarked, wistfully. " I hate to leave her here." 
 
 " Now don't you go to worrying about me," pro- 
 tested Miss Wheeler. " Of course I'm going to 
 miss you awfully ; but Sue Brad dock is glad of the 
 home, and is coming here to stay while you are 
 gone. As for me, at my time of life, sailing the 
 seas and visiting tropical lands, I just won't do it, 
 and that's the end of it," and no amount of per- 
 suasion could change her decision. 
 
 About the first of the month both of our prospec- 
 tive travelers visited Goodport for a few days. 
 Mr. Barnes desired to select their outfits for their 
 journey ; white Bert was anxious to call again upon 
 his friends on Carey Avenue. 
 
 The problem of a gift to Miss Ella was as yet un- 
 settled, and he hoped in the stores of the enter- 
 prising city to find its solution ; and the intricate 
 question was settled quickly and in an entirely un- 
 expected way. 
 
 The lad was passing an art store on the main 
 street, the very day of their arrival in the city,
 
 86 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 when his attention was attracted to a picture in one 
 of its windows. 
 
 It was a good-sized painting, entitled " The 
 Broken Shoe." The scene was an humble shoe- 
 maker's shop, and in the background were the bench 
 and tools of the artisan ; while in front stood two 
 figures a young lad, evidently an apprentice, with 
 apron and turban on ; and a young girl, a prospec- 
 tive customer. 
 
 In the boy's hand was a shoe, which the girl had 
 just handed to him, and her face asked plainly the 
 question : " Can it be mended ? " The youth's face 
 was sober and perplexed, as though he had met 
 with a difficult case. 
 
 But there were other and more striking features 
 about the picture which settled the question of its 
 purchase with Bert. The face of the girl bore a 
 marked resemblance to Ella Greene ; the face of the 
 lad was a good portrait of himself ; while the shoe 
 was broken in almost the identical way and place 
 that Ella's had been cut on that memorable morning 
 in May. 
 
 Stepping into the store Bert found the price of 
 the painting was within his means, and purchasing 
 it, he directed that it should be packed, and held 
 subject to his order. 
 
 On his last call at the Greene cottage, he said to 
 Ella: 
 
 " I saw a picture the other day that reminded 
 me of the circumstances under which AVC first met, 
 and I've taken the liberty to have it sent up to you. 
 I hope you will be as pleased with it as I was, and 
 that it will help you to keep me in mind during the 
 long months of my absence." 
 
 " I don't think I shall have any trouble to re- 
 member you," she replied earnestly ; " but I know I 
 shall like your gift." 
 
 It was hard to part with these friends, and had
 
 ALONE ON THE SEA. 87 
 
 not Mr. Barnes been there also, Bert would surely 
 have given way to his emotion. As it was he hero- 
 ically controlled himself, and only the parting grasp 
 of the hand he gave each member of the family told 
 of the depth of his feeling. 
 
 His parting with his Aunt Mary was harder yet. 
 She had been the only mother he had known, and 
 he was not ashamed to shed tears as he bade her 
 good-by. 
 
 Mr. Barnes, who had turned his back on this fare- 
 well scene, doubtless to hide his own emotion, 
 stopped to have the last word with Miss Wheeler, 
 as the lad, bag in hand, went out to the waiting 
 carriage. 
 
 What he said to her only they two ever knew. 
 He was, however, in the best of spirits from that 
 brief interview. He whistled softly to himself the 
 air of an old love-tune during their long ride over to 
 the Flanders station ; and but once broke in on the 
 silence of the boy who sat by his side. 
 
 " I tell you, Bert," he remarked suddenly, " when 
 you come 'back to the States next spring I'm coming 
 , Avith you." 
 
 He and the lad both knew that old line of Burns' : 
 
 " The best laid schemes o' mice an' men 
 Gang aft agley." 
 
 Yet neither of them imagined the future that was 
 in store for them ; or what was to happen ere they 
 again, looked upon the familiar sights and scenes of 
 Montville. 
 
 Their journey to New York had been arranged 
 some days before the sailing of their steamer, as the 
 last letter of Captain Larkin had brought Mr. Barnes 
 some extensive orders for machinery and goods 
 to be shipped to the island for use on the plan- 
 tation.
 
 88 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 In the making of these purchases the old sailor 
 found Bert of great assistance, and frequently re- 
 marked : 
 
 " Why, youngster, when you come back to the 
 States you can act as your father's purchasing agent. 
 You would do well enough, and it would be a 
 mighty big saving on commissions too. I shall tell 
 the captain so."' 
 
 The goods once purchased, there was ample time 
 for the man and boy to take in the chief sights of 
 the metropolis. Mr. Barnes was as delighted as the 
 lad himself to see these things, and often commented 
 on the growth and changes in the city since he had 
 visited it more than sixteen years before. 
 
 But the time of their waiting soon ran out, and on 
 a beautiful afternoon in the fairest of all the fall 
 months, they found themselves standing on the 
 steamer's deck, as she rapidly plowed her way to 
 sea. 
 
 For two days the weather was delightful, but as 
 the third morning dawned there was a thick haze in 
 the southeast, and before noon the sky was over- 
 cast. The wind also steadily increased, and at dark 
 was blowing a gale. 
 
 " It's going to be a nasty night, lad," Mr. Barnes 
 remarked, as after supper Bert helped him to his 
 stateroom ; an act that had become necessary from 
 the heavy rolling of the steamer. 
 
 Once in his berth he added : 
 
 " Fortunately we have a 'new and staunch vessel 
 under our feet, and it will have to be a regular hur- 
 ricane that drives her from her course." 
 
 " I believe I'll go on deck for a while," Bert said. 
 " It's not yet too rough for me, and I rather enjoy 
 the storm." 
 
 " All right," his companion assented. " Guess 
 you have some of the sailor in you, if this is your 
 first voyage. "Well, if both of my limbs were as
 
 ALONE ON THE SEA. 89 
 
 strong as they once were, I'd go with you. As it is, 
 I reckon I'd better stay here. 
 
 Ascending to the deck, Bert found the storm had 
 materially increased in the short time he had been 
 below. Great waves were now dashing over the 
 ship's bow ; the wind blew with a force that made it 
 difficult to keep one's feet ; while the groaning and 
 tossing of the steamer seemed not unlike a great 
 monster screaming and writhing in pain. 
 
 Working his way around to the lea of the cabin, 
 the lad took a firm hold on the adjacent rail, and 
 looked about him. 
 
 It was too dark to see more than a dozen feet 
 away ; evidently, however, he was the only passen- 
 ger who had ventured on deck, and officers and 
 crew were too busy to notice him. 
 
 There was a fascination for him in the tempest, 
 and he remained thereuntil a sudden gust of the wind 
 brought with it a deluge of water that drenched him 
 from head to feet. 
 
 Shaking the water off, he crawled along to the 
 cabin door, and, opening it with difficulty, descended 
 to the saloon. 
 
 Hurrying on to his stateroom, he found Mr. Barnes 
 still awake, and, while changing his clothing, told 
 him of his adventure. 
 
 His description of the gale, and especially of his 
 impromptu ducking, amused his room-mate greatly. 
 
 " I've been through similar experiences hundreds 
 of times, lad, and thought nothing of it. It's the 
 novelty which makes it so fascinating to you. But 
 when you get your dry clothing on, you better turn 
 in, and get what sleep you can. Likely 'twon't be 
 much." 
 
 But he was wrong. In ten minutes after the lad 
 crawled into his bunk he was fast asleep, and slept 
 soundly until there came a shock that threw him 
 from hjs berth clear across the tiny room. Scarcely
 
 90 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 had he struck the floor when Mr. Barnes landed on 
 top of him, and it took them some minutes, under 
 the lurching of the craft, to regain their feet. 
 
 " We've run ashore somewhere ! " exclaimed Bert, 
 holding himself upright by his berth. 
 
 " Xo, it's a collision," answered Mr. Barnes, "and 
 there's serious damage done. " Dress as soon as 
 you can, buckle that life-belt I provided under 
 your armpits. Then help me into the saloon, or 
 possibly out on to the deck." 
 
 It was not long before they were ready, and went 
 out into the cabin. All was confusion there. Half- 
 dressed passengers were rushing to and fro ; frantic 
 cries filled the room ; an officer and two stalwart 
 sailors stood guard at the companion-way ; no one 
 was allowed on deck. 
 
 Mr. Barnes was cool and collected ; and the lad, 
 though his face was a trifle pale, remained calmly 
 by his companion's side. 
 
 " My impression is \v>e are sinking," the old sea- 
 man said in low tones to the boy. " Let us get orer 
 by the gangway, we may find out something from 
 the officer." 
 
 It was not an. easy thing to push their way 
 through the terrified throng, but they at length, 
 succeeded, and Mr. Barnes was able to say to the 
 mate in charge of the passage-way : 
 
 " Bad accident, ain't it, Mr. Bellows ? " 
 
 The man. recognized the speaker, and replied 
 quietly : 
 
 " We fear it is, Mr. Barnes, and are preparing for 
 the worst. Fortunately morning is close at hand, and 
 there is not as much sea as there was two hours ago." 
 
 " Could you make out the other vessel, sir ? " 
 was the old sailor's next question. 
 
 "Yes, sir; she was a lar^e schooner, heavily 
 laden, and must have been injured worse than we 
 are, for she sank at once."
 
 ALONE ON THE SEA. 91 
 
 " You know ho\v it is yourself, sir, in a dense 
 fog," he continued ; " we couldn't see ten feet away, 
 and though our lights were up, and we kept the 
 whistle going, the other vessel must have miscalcu- 
 lated our position, and crashed into us without a 
 moment's warning. The heavy sea shook her off, 
 and the wind carried her clear of us before she sank, 
 else she'd have carried us down." 
 
 What more he might have said was cut off by 
 an order from the deck. 
 
 "Life-boats are ready, Mr.. Bellows; pass the 
 women and children up first." 
 
 To the credit of the men this command was 
 obeyed without the slightest outbreak. 
 
 " Now there, men ; don't crowd ; there is plenty of 
 time, and plenty of boats," announced the officer in 
 charge. 
 
 His words prevented disorder, and soon all were 
 on the deck. It was still very dark, but as rapidly 
 as possible the passengers were lowered into a boat 
 from the lee side of the sinking steamer. 
 
 When one boat was full, it was cast off, and an- 
 other took its place. Officers and crew were under 
 
 good control, and the work went on rapidly and 
 
 11 
 orderly. 
 
 " I'm a sailor, and this lad is a sailor's son, we'll 
 wait until the last boat," Mr. Barnes said proudly to 
 the mate who had called them to enter the first boat 
 loaded entirely with men. 
 
 His wish was respected ; but in a few minutes the 
 fourth and last boat was ready for its occupants. Mr. 
 Barnes, on account of his lameness, was among the 
 first assisted into the yawl, and Bert immediately 
 followed. 
 
 There were only seven passengers now, but ten 
 of the steamer's crew, and her captain, who was the 
 to leave the last vessel, made a large load for the yawl. 
 All had entered the boat, however, and the officer
 
 92 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 had given the order to cast off, when the sinking 
 vessel lurched, and rolled to the starboard. 
 
 The bowman of the yawl saw the movement, and 
 raised his knife to sever the line that bound the light 
 craft to the ship, but he was too late. The steamer 
 suddenly tipped, her stern went up, her bow went 
 down, and she disappeared beneath the rolling 
 waves, dragging the small boat, now capsized, in her 
 wake. 
 
 The life-preserver, fastened below his arms, kept 
 Bert from sinking when he was plunged into the 
 sea, and a gigantic wave that swept up behind him 
 at the same moment carried him beyond the suction 
 of the foundering ship. A minute or two later he 
 fell in with a piece of wreckage large enough to 
 sustain him, and crawled out upon it. 
 
 Knowing that Mr. Barnes had on a life-belt sim- 
 ilar to his own, he glanced about him, hoping to 
 discover his friend. But neither the old sailor, nor 
 any other of the late occupants of the yawl, were in 
 sight, and with a despairing heart the lad concluded 
 that he only had survived the capsizing of the boat, 
 and was now alone upon the raging sea.
 
 THE ISLAND PRISON. 93 
 
 CHAPTEK XIY. 
 
 THE ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 PERHAPS one of the greatest of natural phenomena 
 is the Gulf Stream. This, as is now generally ad- 
 mitted, is a river in the ocean. 
 
 It has its origin someAvherein the Gulf of Mexico, 
 and flows through the strait of Florida into the 
 Atlantic Ocean ; then turning to the left no one 
 knows why it flows north and northeasterly along 
 our coast. 
 
 There are no islands directly in this mysterious 
 stream, but many lie to the right and left of it, the 
 most important of which is the Bahama group. 
 
 In fact, beginning with the Great Bahama, off the 
 eastern coast of the state of Florida, and running in 
 a southeasterly direction, there is a continuous string 
 of islands stretching for more than one thousand 
 miles ; and so numerous are they that one of our 
 well-known historians has said : 
 
 " It was possible for Columbus to have landed on 
 one of thirty-six islands, six hundred and eighty- 
 seven cays, and two thousand four hundred and 
 fourteen rocky islets." 
 
 When, therefore, our young hero found himself 
 clinging to a portion of the wreck upon the tempest- 
 uous sea, it was only a question of endurance the 
 ability to hold on and hold out before he would 
 in the nature of events drift upon one of those 
 tropical islands. 
 
 Hour after hour passed ; morning came and with
 
 94 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 it the cessation of the storm ; the clouds broke ; the 
 wind died away ; and still he floated on. 
 
 At the first show of light the lad had risen as high 
 as possible out of the dashing waves, and looked 
 eagerly about him ; but he saw only a watery waste. 
 Again and again he repeated this act, always, how- 
 ever, with the same aspect. At length, tired and 
 weak, he ceased these efforts, and drifted almost un- 
 consciously on. 
 
 Noon passed, and half the afternoon ; he was 
 hungry, and weak, and hopeless now. His hope 
 had been to be discovered by one of the steamer's 
 boats, or picked up by some passing ship. He had 
 not thought of the islands, in all probability not 
 many miles away from the place of the collision ; 
 but had he thought of them it is doubtful that he 
 would have expected to reach one of them. Yet 
 such was to be his fate. 
 
 It was almost sundown, when a low, booming 
 sound fell upon his ear. At first it was too low and 
 faint for him to pay any special attention to it; but 
 as he floated on, it grew louder and louder, and at 
 length seemed quite near. 
 
 liaising his head, for the first time, in several 
 hours, he found himself but a few rods from a point 
 of land. He was south of, and in a few minutes 
 would have passed by, it. Gathering up all the 
 strength he could muster, he plunged from his plank, 
 and, supported by his life-belt, swam towards the 
 rocky headland. 
 
 There was current enough to sweep him beyond 
 it, notwithstanding all his efforts ; but the same 
 eddy carried him on into a little shallow cove just 
 beyond the point, and faint and exhausted he 
 crawled to the shore, and threw himself flat upon 
 the sand. 
 
 How long he lay there he never knew. It was 
 dark when he arose, and staggered to the shelter of
 
 At the first show of light the lad had risen as high as possi- 
 ble out of the waves, but he saw only a watery waste. Page 
 y**' Yankee Lad's Pluck.
 
 THE ISLAND PRISON. 95 
 
 some tall trees, not far away, where he sank almost 
 immediately into a profound slumber. 
 
 The sun was up, sending its warm and life-giving 
 rays down upon him when he awoke. Stiff and sore 
 he got upon his feet, and took a survey of his 
 landing-place. 
 
 The trees under which he had passed the night 
 were palms there were perhaps a dozen of them ; to 
 the north of these was an opening covered with a 
 species of rank grass and some flowering shrubs ; 
 while beyond he could catch a glimpse of the sea. 
 He was then on an islet. 
 
 He stepped slowly along to the point around which 
 he had been swept the night before. This gave him 
 a view of the ocean-side of the island. There was no 
 beach, the reef coming up in a perpendicular wall 
 from the ocean bed, fathoms below. 
 
 On the west, or land ward side, however, there was 
 a gradual slope to the water, with a wide, smooth, 
 sandy shore ; and as the lad took in the scene he 
 recognized the kind Providence that had watched 
 over him, and brought him to the only place on the 
 cay, where he could have landed in safety. 
 
 But hunger and thirst were craving to be satisfied, 
 and to meet these demands was his first duty. 
 
 " A fire is the first thing," he murmured, begin- 
 ning to unbuckle his life-belt. 
 
 It will be remembered that before the boy left his 
 stateroom after the collision, he had been directed 
 by Mr. Barnes to put on the life-preserver that he 
 the sailor had provided, not one. of those that are 
 to be found under the berths of every sea-going 
 passenger steamer. It was one the old seaman had 
 himself designed for just such a disaster as had 
 befallen the Alhambra, and with which he had 
 furnished both the lad and himself. 
 
 In reality it was a life-jacket ; and was put on as 
 any ordinary coat. But it was so constructed that
 
 96 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 when once in its place a row of corks encircled the 
 wearer just below his arm-pits; below this and on 
 the inside of the waterproof garment were a row of 
 pockets, in which were securely fastened, and so as 
 to be practically water-tight, a few articles aiiy 
 ship wrecked person would be likely to need. 
 
 Bert had himself helped to. put these articles into 
 their snug cases, and his object in removing the life- 
 belt was to get at the contents of its pockets. 
 
 In a minute or two his entire possessions lay on 
 the beach before him, and few as they were he 
 would not, just then, have accepted a 'fortune for 
 them. 
 
 There was a huge clasp knife, made of the finest 
 steel, and both a useful and formidable weapon ; 
 a box of paraffine matches ; a package of soup-tablets, 
 each one capable of making a cupful of delicious and 
 strengthening bouillon ; a collapsing drinking-cup, 
 of good size ; a fishing-line and several hooks ; and 
 two small purses, each containing fifty dollars in 
 gold. 
 
 As the money was of no practical use under his 
 his present circumstances, he returned it to the 
 pocket of the life-belt from which it had been taken. 
 The other articles he laid in a small pile on the 
 discarded -jacket, with the exception of the knife. 
 
 Opening this, he, with it in his right hand, entered 
 the thick undergrowth beyond the palms, and soon 
 cut quite a bundle of dry stuff, which he brought 
 back to the beach. In another minute he had set 
 the wood on tire with a match from the waterproof 
 safe, and, as the flames shot up, he remarked quite 
 cheerfully : 
 
 " Xow if I can only find some water, I'll soon 
 have breakfast." 
 
 But the water was not to be found on the lower 
 portion of the cay ; or as for that matter anywhere 
 in the island as he later ascertained. There was,
 
 THE ISLAND PRISON. 97 
 
 therefore, but one thing for him to do to munch 
 the dry tablets, and make the best meal he could in 
 that unpalatable way. Though he knew one tablet 
 was intended for a meal, he ate three with a still 
 unsatisfied appetite. 
 
 " There, I ought to get strength enough from them," 
 he muttered, " to search a while for something to 
 drink. But if I can't find any water, I don't know 
 what I shall do. I might as well have perished out 
 there at sea." 
 
 Picking up the articles he had left on the life- 
 belt, he stowed them away in his pockets ; and then 
 throwing the jacket itself across his arm, he started 
 up the shore, looking on every side for water. 
 
 He had not gone more than half a mile when he 
 reached the north end of the islet, and now found 
 that it was separated from another cay by a narrow, 
 deep, strait ; while beyond this second island, which 
 was scarcely more than a patch of sand covered 
 with seaweed, was a third, larger apparently than 
 the one he was on, and covered with trees and thick 
 vegetation. 
 
 " There is nothing here to eat or drink," he said 
 to himself. " I will see if I can cross to that farther 
 island." 
 
 His clothes were not yet dry from their long soak- 
 ing of the previous day, and stopping, therefore, only 
 long enough to return all his possessions to the 
 water-tight pockets of his life-belt, he buckled that 
 on, and plunged into the water. 
 
 He had not swam over thirty feet before he was 
 able to touch bottom, and so waded out upon the 
 sand-bank. From there he obtained a better view r 
 of the northern island, and saw, not only that it 
 greatly exceeded both the others in its size, but 
 seemed to have all the luxuriance of the tropics. It 
 was, however, at least a half-mile over to it. He 
 stood looking wistfully at it for some time. 
 7
 
 98 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 " I guess I am good even for that swim," he final- 
 ly declared ; " I'm sure there's food there of some 
 kind, and maybe it is inhabited. I know many of 
 these islands are." 
 
 He entered the water, and much to his surprise 
 was able to wade all the way across, the water in 
 no place exceeding a depth of four feet. 
 
 " Here is food and a partial substitute for drink," 
 he ejaculated, as he emerged from the strait, to find 
 himself on a salt marsh containing innumerable crabs. 
 
 It was easy to catch the crustaceans, and, break- 
 ing them open, Bert sucked the juice from the raw 
 flesh. Possibly the reader sees nothing attractive 
 in this operation, but to the thirsting lad it was a 
 delicious draught ; and he did not stop until he had 
 disposed of the watery portion of at least a dozen of 
 the shell fish. 
 
 His thirst partially quenched by this process, he 
 ventured further into the island. 
 
 The first trees he encountered were, as he after- 
 wards learned, the mangrove, so common at the 
 estuaries of tropical rivers, or on the borders of 
 tropical marshes. Making his way slowly through 
 the thick roots and stems of these curious trees, he 
 soon came out upon higher ground. 
 
 His attention was immediately attracted towards 
 a grove of trees, about thirty feet high, only a few 
 rods away, which were loaded with an orange-red 
 fruit. Hastening over to them, he frightened away 
 a flock of yellow birds that were making their morn- 
 ing breakfast among the branches. The lower limbs 
 were not over six feet high, and catching hold of 
 one, the boy bent it down, and plucked some of the 
 fruit, saying : 
 
 " If the birds eat these, I reckon I can." 
 
 The fruit resembled somewhat a plum, but were 
 nearly as large as a man's fist. A single bite proved 
 to him that whatever the name of the fruit, it was
 
 THE ISLAND PRISON. 99 
 
 delicious, and he rapidly ate at least a dozen of " the 
 plums," as he called them. 
 
 In reality they were mangoes a prolific and 
 wholesome fruit of these islands, and highly prized 
 by the dwellers there. 
 
 Still continuing his explorations he went on up 
 the west shore of the island. Passing through the 
 mango grove, which was a large one, he came upon 
 a patch of pineapples, and then upon nearly an acre 
 of banana plants. 
 
 "It looks as though I shan't starve," he solilo- 
 quized; "between crabs and plums and bananas I 
 shall surely have enough to eat. If now I can only 
 find a spring of water I'm all right." 
 
 He had not, however, exhausted the cay. Before 
 he had traveled a mile he had discovered groves of 
 cocoanut palms, of oranges, and of lemons. But the 
 two things he looked for and hoped for most, namely, 
 a stream of fresh water, and a human habitation, 
 were not found when he reached the northern end 
 of the island. 
 
 No other islets were to be seen in any direction, 
 and he rightly concluded that the three, on all of 
 which he had now been, made up the entire group. 
 
 " I must have walked two miles," he said, as he 
 rested under a gigantic palm ; " and that must be 
 about the length of the island. I will go back by the 
 east shore, and so shall obtain some idea of its 
 width." 
 
 He built a fire ; dried his wet clothing ; made an- 
 other meal of three soup-tablets, and a half-dozen 
 bananas he had brought along with him ; and 
 washed the repast down with the milk of a large 
 cocoanut he found under the palm where he was 
 sitting, and which he opened with his knife. 
 
 " I'd give a good deal for a drink of cool water," 
 he thought ; " but I'm neither going to starve or die 
 of thirst here ; " then he resumed his journey.
 
 100 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 He walked rapidly along the north shore of the 
 c&y ; this was not a point, but a succession of small 
 bays or inlets, which finally terminated in a larger 
 promontory, making off from the main island in an 
 easterly direction. i 
 
 Clambering slowly up this, he finally reached its 
 summit. Then one glance at the shore below him 
 filled him with surprise and delight. 
 
 Running from the end of the point on which he 
 stood to the south, and so protecting the eastern 
 side of the islet, was a long reef. On this, high out 
 of the water, was a wreck, while just opposite, on 
 the beach which the reef guarded, were two men, 
 busily engaged in cooking their dinner. 
 
 Dashing down the point, and along the shore, 
 Bert soon reached the two men, who stopped from 
 their labors, and stared in astonishment at the new- 
 comer. 
 
 Their swarthy complexion and manner of dress 
 showed they were either Cubans or Spaniards, and 
 
 Erofoundly thankful to Mr. Barnes for having taught 
 im to speak Spanish, the lad said : 
 
 " Buenos dias, senors" good day, sirs. 
 
 " Buenos dias, senor," was the civil reply. 
 
 Then as clearly as he could with the Spanish he 
 had mastered Bert explained who he was, and how 
 he came to be there. 
 
 The men, both of whom were young, heard him 
 through, and then, pointing toward the wreck, they 
 told their story. 
 
 They were Cubans passengers on the schooner 
 which had gone on to the reef. She had been used 
 to run a load of arms and am munition into the island 
 of Cuba for the use of the insurgents. Her load 
 once delivered, she sailed for the States, bringing the 
 two passengers, who were bearing special messages 
 to the Cuban Junta in Xew York city. 
 
 In the recent gale she had been badly damaged,
 
 THE ISLAND PRISON. 1Q1 
 
 and her captain washed overboard ; the cre\v, fear- 
 ing the vessel would sink, hurriedly abandoned her 
 so hurriedly in fact that the two Cubans, who were 
 asleep in their staterooms, had been left behind. 
 
 Clinging to the helpless craft, they had expected 
 any moment to go down with her ; but to their joy 
 she, though water-logged, kept afloat, and finally 
 drifted upon the reef where she was now lying. 
 
 This had occurred on the previous afternoon, and 
 before night the storm had so far abated the men 
 were not only able to reach the land, but to bring 
 with them many articles of food from the stranded 
 ship. 
 
 This long explanation ended in their kindly in- 
 viting the young American, first to share in their 
 meal, and then to make one of their party until all 
 could be rescued by some passing vessel. 
 
 Thus began an island imprisonment, that, contrary 
 to the expectation of every one of the three cast- 
 aways, lasted through many weary months.
 
 102 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE SPONGE-GATHEKERS. 
 
 IT was not far from twelve o'clock, judging by 
 the position of the sun, when Bert joined the Cubans"; 
 and while they ate they consulted together as to the 
 best plan of stripping the wreck. 
 
 The distance between the shore and the reef did 
 not exceed fifty fathoms, and at low tide, as it now 
 was, the water of the lagoon nowhere reached a 
 greater depth than four feet. For a limited time, 
 therefore, it would be possible to bring the lighter 
 articles from the schooner to land by wading back 
 and forth, in the same way that the two men had 
 already secured the food they were now r eating. 
 
 But many of the most needful things in the vessel 
 were too heavy to be brought to the beach by hand ; 
 and at high tide the water between the reef and the 
 shore would be much too deep for wading. The 
 problem therefore was, how to transport the heavier 
 articles from the schooner in the most expeditious 
 way. 
 
 It was possible, of course, to make a float, or raft, 
 and as the surface of the lagoon was quite still, 
 bring the contents of the vessel over to the beach 
 upon it. But this at the best would be a slow 
 process, and the fear wa.s that the stranded craft 
 might break up before the task was fully accom- 
 plished. 
 
 " I will go over with you and look at the wreck ; 
 then we can form our plan of operations," Bert re-
 
 THE SPONGE-GATHERERS. 103 
 
 marked, when he hacl finished what he always called 
 " the squarest meal in all his life." 
 
 There had been brought from the schooner ham, 
 canned tongue, ship's biscuit, crackers, preserved 
 peaches, coffee, and last, and to the thirsty lad in no 
 sense the least, water. Of these the boy had taken a 
 full share, and for the first time in thirty -six hours 
 felt he had eaten enough. 
 
 " I'm ready," he said, stretching himself to his 
 full height, as he arose to his feet, *' lead on and I'll 
 follow. 
 
 Removing the greater portion of their clothing, 
 that they might have it dry on their return, the two 
 men and boy now waded over to the vessel. She 
 was a schooner of about two hundred tons, painted 
 black, with a bright-red stripe just above her water- 
 line, and her bottom heavily copper-plated. 
 
 She was lying with her bow lifted high in the air, 
 and heeled over until the rail of her starboard quar- 
 ter was within three feet of the water. The main- 
 mast was snapped off close to the deck, and lay over 
 to the starboard a complete wreck ; and the whole 
 vessel was tightly jammed on the reef. 
 
 Quickly scrambling on board, the trio looked about 
 them. 
 
 The scene of devastation that met their gaze was 
 something appalling. The galley and the cabin 
 skylights were smashed in, the bulwark stanchions 
 were started, and the deck was littered with top 
 hamper. Even the wheel was twisted out of shape. 
 
 On account of the schooner heeling so much, it 
 was with some difficulty that the searchers made 
 their way below, and then it was all that they could 
 do to keep their footing on the slippery planks of 
 the gangway. 
 
 The first room they entered was the main cabin, 
 plainly furnished when at its best, but now in a state 
 of dreadful confusion. The table remained in its
 
 104: A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 place, being screwed to the floor, but everything 
 else was heaped on the lower side of the cabin. 
 Even the lockers had been burst open by the vio- 
 lence of the vessel's heavings. 
 
 They next went into the store-room amidships. 
 There was less devastation here, and with satisfac- 
 tion they beheld a supply of provisions ample for 
 their need for weeks to come. 
 
 In the forecastle, however, they again found 
 things badly stove ; but as there was little there be- 
 side the crew's kits, nothing of any great value was 
 damaged. 
 
 In the cook's galley scarcely a thing remained 
 in its place, and stove and crockery were broken ; 
 but the pots and kettles and other utensils were in 
 a condition for use, and there was an abundance of 
 them. 
 
 In the schooner's hold there was six feet of 
 water, but, as she carried no cargo, the searchers 
 gave that matter no second thought. 
 
 " There is enough here to yet up housekeeping," 
 Bert remarked in Spanish to his companions, when 
 their search was finished ; " and the first thing is to 
 get it on shore." 
 
 He looked off towards the island. Then he 
 clambered up to the extre.me end of the bow, and, 
 with his eye on a level with the broken bowsprit, 
 glanced across to the beach. 
 
 Instantly his plan was formed, and as well as 
 possible, by word and gesture, he made it known to 
 the Cubans. 
 
 " Let us run a cable," he said, " from the bow of 
 the schooner to that big tree under which we ate 
 dinner. It will clear the water all of ten feet; 
 then wa'll rig a sling stout enough to hold two or 
 three hundred pounds' weight, and run this truck to 
 the shore on the same plan they run a life-buoy. 
 Two of us can work here, the other can receive the
 
 THE SPONGE-GATHERERS. 1Q5 
 
 goods on the beach. If we give our cable a decline 
 of two or three feet at the shore-end, the loaded 
 sling will, when once started, run to the ishird 
 by its own weight; while it will be no trouble to 
 pull the unloaded sling back." 
 
 It took some time, owing to the defects in Bert's 
 Spanish vocabulary, to make his plan intelligible 
 to his comrades, but as soon as it was comprehended 
 they enthusiastically adopted it. A huge hawser 
 was carried to the shore, and firmly fastened to the 
 trunk of the large palm a few feet from the ground. 
 Then, by the aid of the schooner's windlass, which 
 was still intact, the cable was pulled taut. On this 
 the sling was adjusted, and in three hours all was 
 in readiness for the transfer of the goods. To test 
 the apparatus a barrel of salt-junk was rolled into 
 the sling, and the pulleys were put in motion. 
 Slowly the car moved at first, but, gaining new im- 
 petus with each foot of descent, it finally went off 
 at a rate which compelled the watchers to use their 
 pulley-rope as a brake. In two minutes the sling 
 with its load reached the beach in safety, and the 
 toilers knew their plan was a success. 
 
 They now stopped for a cold lunch of canned- 
 beef and hard-tack. Then they fell to work in dead 
 earnestness. Bert and the older Cuban remained 
 on the vessel, while their comrade took his station 
 on the shore to unload the goods. With this di- 
 vision of labor, that did away with all going back 
 and forth to the beach, they were able during the 
 rest of the afternoon to land an amount of stuff that 
 surprised themselves ; and within the next two days 
 they had stripped the schooner of everything likely 
 to be of use. 
 
 While removing the goods they had made a tem- 
 porary habitation for themselves by packing the 
 boxes and barrels sent ashore from the vessel into a 
 hollow square, and then stretching a piece of can-
 
 106 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 vas over them. But the work once finished, they 
 turned their first attention to a more suitable 
 abode. 
 
 Believing their sojourn in the island would be 
 brief, they decided to construct their cabin of sail- 
 cloth, a large amount of which had been brought 
 from the vessel. 
 
 There were the main-sail, the fore-sail, three jibs, 
 two top-sails, one triangular sheet, and a number of 
 odd pieces of canvas. These Avere all eyed, and 
 there was much rope and seizing-stuff. 
 
 When this had been sorted out and measured, two 
 trees, twenty feet apart, were selected as the corner 
 posts for the first side of the house. Between these 
 a piece of sail twenty feet long and eighteen feet 
 wide was stretched taut, and it edges nailed to the 
 trees from the ground up a distance of six feet. 
 
 Then two other trees parallel with the first two, 
 and about sixteen feet away, were chosen, and an- 
 other piece of sail of the same dimensions as the 
 first was fastened to them in precisely the same way. 
 Thus two sides of the tent were formed. 
 
 The roof was made by bringing that portion of 
 the two sails not fastened to the trees together, 
 and lacing them to a ridge pole, held in place by 
 two standards, cut from the booms of the schooner. 
 Then the two ends were filled in with canvas, mak- 
 ing the front and back of a structure sixteen by 
 twenty feet. 
 
 This was immediately divided into three rooms 
 by walls of sail-cloth. The first, at the front of the 
 tent, was ten by sixteen feet, and became the kitchen, 
 dining-room, and parlor of the house. The rear 
 Avas made into two rooms of equal size, eight by ten 
 feet, one being the store-room, and the other the 
 bedroom of the cabin. 
 
 In the bedroom three bunks were erected by driv- 
 ing uprights into the ground, and spiking roughly
 
 THE SPONGE-GATHERERS. 107 
 
 trimmed poles to them, making a frame six feet by 
 two and a half, and two feet from the earth. On 
 these sail-cloth was first stretched tightly for a 
 bottom ; and then mattresses brought from the 
 vessel completed the bed. 
 
 In the living room were placed the table, chairs, 
 and other furniture from the schooner's cabin ; 
 while the kits of the crew furnished receptacles for 
 the clothing, utensils, and tools that had been brought 
 from the same treasure-house. 
 
 In the store-room were packed all the articles that 
 needed to be kept dry ; but the barrels of salt-junk, 
 pork, and water were rolled into the shade of the 
 palm trees, and covered with sail-cloth to further 
 protect them from the sun's rays. 
 
 Knowing that the supply of water brought from 
 the vessel was limited and would soon be exhausted, 
 an arrangement was made to secure a new supply 
 with the first rain. Eave-troughs were placed on 
 both sides of the tent-roof, and conductors to lead 
 the water to four casks placed, one at each end, of 
 these troughs. 
 
 Later it was found, however, that even this ar- 
 rangement was not sufficient to meet their needs ; 
 and, at the suggestion of the Cubans, their water 
 supply was finally obtained in the same manner the 
 dwellers on the larger cays of that region secure 
 theirs by sinking a well down through the coral 
 substratum of the island. This was not so hard a 
 task as might be imagined ; since, when once through 
 the outer coating of the coral, it becomes soft and 
 is easily removed to any depth. 
 
 A week had passed before the cabin and its ar- 
 rangements were fully completed, and as yet there 
 had been no sign of a passing vessel. It was, there- 
 fore, now determined to make a daily patrol of the 
 island, in order to keep a lookout on all sides for 
 a rescuing ship.
 
 108 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 The resources of the island were also drawn upon, 
 so as not to exhaust their stores too rapidly. But 
 they soon found they were in no danger of starving. 
 The fruits of the cay were abundant ; yams grew iji 
 one part of the islet, of good size and very edible; 
 fowl of many kinds were there for the killing ; and 
 the sea furnished fish of a dozen varieties and in a 
 large quantities. 
 
 Three weeks after they began their sojourn there, 
 they also found that the center island of the tiny 
 group, barren, as at first it seemed, was really 
 destined to furnish them with an important supply 
 of food. Turtles came there to deposit their eggs, 
 and they soon became skilful, not only in finding 
 the eggs, but also in catching the turtles themselves. 
 Turtle soup and turtle-egg omelet became, there- 
 fore, a regular part of their varied diet. 
 
 As the months wore away, and no vessel appeared, 
 the faces of the island prisoners grew long and care- 
 worn. It was evident that they must be out of the 
 usual line of travel between the American cities and 
 the islands to the south ; and there was now serious 
 thought on the part of all of trying to construct 
 some sort of a craft by which they could reach some 
 of the inhabited islands, surely not many miles 
 away. 
 
 April came, however, and the problem of escape 
 still remained unsolved, when, by an unlooked-for 
 circumstance, their despair was suddenly changed 
 to hope. 
 
 Early one morning Bert had gone to the salt 
 marsh at the southern end of the cay to shoot fowl. 
 Creeping cautiously through the mangrove trees, 
 that he might get a shot at the birds before he was 
 himself discovered, he came to an opening where, 
 over the sandy bank of the center islet, he caught 
 sight of smoke rising from the south island of the 
 group the one on which he had first landed.
 
 THE SPONGE-GATHERERS. 109 
 
 "Wondering what it could mean, he hastened back 
 to the upland, and climbed the nearest tree to a 
 height of twenty feet or more. This gave him an 
 unobstructed view over the mangrove swamp and 
 sandy cay, and with a sudden hope that his own 
 rescue and that of his comrades was now at hand, 
 he looked eagerly towards the islet from which the 
 smoke was still rising. 
 
 His position enabled him to see the whole of the 
 southern cay, and, to his surprise, he now beheld 
 two large sail-boats, anchored within the little bay 
 where several months before he had himself crawled 
 ashore; while under the very palms where he had 
 spent the first night of his island imprisonment was 
 a rude camp, about which several men and women 
 and children were gathered, eating breakfast. 
 
 Four yawls were drawn up on the sandy beach ; 
 several heaps of black stuff lay in the sun ; and what 
 looked like huge forks and great drag-nets were 
 scattered about the encampment or along the 
 shore. 
 
 Deeming it wiser to acquaint his companions with 
 his discovery before he made further investigation, 
 Bert descended from the tree and hastened off to 
 his own camp. 
 
 Quickly making known the presence of the visit- 
 ors to the Cubans no difficult task now, as their 
 lon<* sojourn together had perfected the American 
 lad in his use of Spanish, and the Cubans on their 
 part in the speaking of English all three armed 
 themselves with guns or revolvers saved from the 
 stranded schooner, and went back to Bert's place of 
 observation. 
 
 Selecting trees near enough together to allow 
 them to converse with each other in low tones, 
 they ascended into the branches, and scrutinized 
 the newcomers. 
 
 Since the boy first discovered them, the strangers
 
 110 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 had finished their meal, and the men were now 
 arranging to enter their small boats. 
 
 A man and a youth stepped into each, and pushed 
 off the lad sculling, the man taking his place in the 
 bow of the light craft, with what looked like a largfe 
 five-pronged fork, with a very long handle, in his 
 hands. 
 
 No sooner had the Cubans seen these movements, 
 than they exclaimed, simultaneously : 
 
 " They are sponge-gatherers ! We are saved ! 
 We are saved ! " and dropping to the ground they 
 indulged in the most frantic demonstrations of joy.
 
 STARTLING NEWS. HI 
 
 CHAPTER XYI. 
 
 STARTLING NEWS. 
 
 WHEN his companions uttered their joyful cry, 
 there at once flashed into the mind of the lad a 
 portion of a geography lesson he had learned in his 
 school days : 
 
 " One of the principal industries of these islands 
 (Bahama) is that of sponge-gathering. Hundreds 
 of men and boys are employed in diving or dredging 
 for this important article of commerce ; and numer- 
 ous bales of the dried sponges are sold in the mar- 
 kets of the United States and other parts of the 
 world." 
 
 He could almost see himself again reciting glibly 
 this passage to his teacher ; but with the words 
 came the assurance that the Cubans were right. 
 An avenue of escape from their island imprison, 
 ment was really at hand, and no less elated than 
 his comrades, he followed them to the ground and 
 joined in their shouts of joy. 
 
 It was low tide, and regardless of a wetting, they, 
 leaving their weapons behind, rushed into the water 
 and waded over to the center islet. Here they had 
 but to call out loudly to attract the attention of the 
 men in the approaching boats. 
 
 Instantly the yawls stopped, while their occupants 
 stared curiously at the three ill-clad and dripping 
 figures. 
 
 Again, in Spanish, the trio called loudly for the 
 boats to come to their assistance.
 
 112 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 At this renewed cry the advance boat dropped 
 back to the others, and the men engaged in lo\v out 
 earnest conversation for a few minutes; then a stout 
 man of perhaps sixty years, apparently the leader 
 of the party, asked in good English : 
 
 " Who are you ? " 
 
 Delighted to hear his native tongue spoken again, 
 Bert stepped closer to the channel's edge, saying : 
 
 " I am an American, and my companions are 
 Cubans. We were cast away on this island seven 
 months ago. Come over in your boats, and take us 
 to your encampment. Then we'll tell you the whole 
 story ; and we hope you will help us to get back to 
 our home and friends." 
 
 There was another moment of consultation, and 
 then the same man said : 
 
 " We'll come for you at once, sir." 
 
 Immediately two of the yawls were pushed over 
 to the cay, and Bert entered one, and the two Cubans 
 the other. Then they were sculled rapidly back to 
 the little bay where the two sloops were anchored, 
 and run ashore in front of the camp. 
 
 There were three rude huts, and from them there 
 came flocking three women, several half-grown girls 
 and boys, and two or three smaller children, to see 
 the newly arrived strangers. 
 
 All gathered closely around the newcomers, and 
 listened with gaping mouths to the story Bert now 
 told. He closed his tale with the words : 
 
 " Through all these months of watching and wait- 
 ing not a passing vessel have we seen. You are the 
 first human beings we have looked upon. Where 
 are we ? Who are you ? Where do you come from ? 
 Will you help us to escape from our imprisonment, 
 whicfi has become almost unendurable ? " 
 
 The questions of the lad were quickly answered. 
 
 The group of cays that had for so long a time 
 been their home was on a line running from the
 
 STARTLING NEWS. 113 
 
 Great Exuraa Island to Point de Maysi, the extreme 
 eastern end of Cuba, and about one hundred miles 
 south of the former island, which was the home of 
 the sponge-gatherers. It was a little out of the usual 
 course of the vessels plying between any of the 
 island ports, and this accounted, as the shipwrecked 
 men had already surmised, for their long and fruit- 
 less waiting for some ship to take them away. 
 
 As for the sponge-gatherers themselves their 
 leader was John Gowth, an Englishman by birth, but 
 a man who had lived so long in the Bahamas, those 
 islands seemed more like home to him than his native 
 land. The oldest woman was his wife, a native of 
 Great Exuma. The two younger men were his sons, 
 and the younger women their wives; while the 
 other mem bers of the party were his children and 
 grandchildren in all they numbered sixteen souls. 
 
 The reason for their coming to the cays at this 
 time was due to the following fact : The summer 
 before Mr. Gowth had been driven by a storm into 
 the little bay of the south islet. Before he departed 
 he discovered that the surrounding waters were 
 rich in sponges ; and he left with the fixed purpose 
 of some time returning to reap the fruits of his 
 discovery. 
 
 But a combination of circumstances had prevented 
 his carrying out that purpose until two days before, 
 when with his sons and their families he had ar- 
 rived, and begun the long delayed work. 
 
 As to the eager question of the island prisoners, 
 whether he would nelp them to escape, he kindly 
 replied : 
 
 " When we go, you certainly may go with us. 
 But we have, at considerable cost to ourselves, 
 arranged for a sojourn here until we have secured 
 a full load of sponges for our sloops. "We cannot 
 afford to depart until that end is accomplished. If, 
 however, vou will turn and to help us in the work, it 
 8
 
 114: A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 will shorten the time we have to remain here, and 
 we will allow you your share in the value of the 
 sponges we gather." 
 
 Bert's first thought was to offer Mr. Gowth the 
 hundred dollars in gold, which he (unknown to th*e 
 Cubans) still had in his possession, for an immediate 
 passage for himself and friends to the nearest port ; 
 then he reflected that he might need every dollar 
 of this sum to enable him to continue his journey 
 to San Juan after he had once reached some center 
 of civilization, and so was in doubt as to the wis- 
 dom of making such a proposal. 
 
 His friends must have long since given him up for 
 dead, and a few weeks' delay, now that he was sure 
 of escape, could make but little difference. Per- 
 haps it would be wiser to accept Mr. Gowth's 
 terms, and for a while turn sponge-gatherer. Find- 
 ing that the Cubans, eager as they were to get out 
 of their exile, heartily favored the Englishman's 
 proposition, he finally decided that it was the wiser 
 course to follow, and as cheerfully as possible ac- 
 cepted the plan. 
 
 Anxious now in their turn to show their own 
 good-will, he and his comrades told of the fruitful- 
 ness of the northern cay, of its advantages as a 
 place of residence, and of their own well-appointed 
 camp, equipped Avith conveniences the sponge- 
 gatherers did not have, and ended by offering all 
 they possessed to their new friends. 
 
 The result of this information was an immediate 
 visit on the part of Mr. Gowth to the upper island 
 with the Cubans and Bert ; and finding; it possible 
 to bring the sloops inside of the lagoon, in front of 
 the tent, and that outside of the reef there was rich 
 sponging grounds, he at once made arrangements 
 for a transfer of his own encampment to that place. 
 Henceforth it was the headquarters of the sponge 
 industry.
 
 STARTLING NEWS. 115 
 
 One hut was left at the lower cay, however, since, 
 in case of an easterly or southeasterly storm, it 
 might be necessary to take the sloops down there, 
 as the little bay afforded the best harbor in the 
 whole group. 
 
 An abundance of canvas was still left the ship- 
 wrecked men, and out of this three tents, similar to 
 the one they occupied, but not so large, were erected 
 and soon the encampment was busy with life. 
 
 The sponge-gatherers had come equipped for all 
 the methods now employed in securing sponges in 
 the Bahamas. They had their long-handled, five- 
 pronged harpoons, for securing the sponges in water 
 of but a few fathoms' depth. This was the work 
 they were about to engage in when discovered by 
 the island prisoners. 
 
 In this method a boy steers the boat, while the 
 man, armed with his formidable harpoon, stands in 
 the bow, gazing down into the clear water. On 
 discovering the sponge, he, with a dexterous move- 
 ment that comes only from long practise, plunges 
 the fork down into the sea, tears the sponge from 
 its growing place, and hauls it to the surface, where 
 it is hauled into the yawl. This process continues 
 until the boat is loaded, when it is brought to the 
 camp. 
 
 The dredging operation is a more complicated 
 affair. The dredge itself resembles a huge scoop 
 six yards wide at the mouth, one yard high, and 
 backed by a coarse network made of cords the thick- 
 ness of the finger. This is weighted and sunk to a 
 freat depth, and then drawn along the sea bottom 
 y a tow-line from the sloop. When loaded with 
 the sponges it has torn from their watery bed, it is 
 brought in as near the beach as possible by the 
 vessel, then dragged in by hand upon the shore. 
 
 The diving process is carried on at even a greater 
 depth, and in its original method was the simplest
 
 116 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 of all the ways used to secure the sponges. A 
 naked man, with a cord attached to his waist, and 
 a huge knife in his hand, dives down to the bottom, 
 quickly severs an armful of the sponge from its 
 resting-place, and returns to the surface. So QX- 
 pert does the diver become in this work, and so 
 accustomed to being underneath the water, that he 
 thinks little of his task, and in an almost incredibly 
 short time fills the boat to overflowing with the 
 sponge. 
 
 At the present time, however, the diving process 
 is in many cases carried on with all the apparatus 
 of the diver's suit and life-line. ^The man remain- 
 ing for hours under water, and the sponges he 
 gathers are hauled to the surface by his comrades 
 in the accompanying boat. 
 
 The sponge-gatherers who were now at the cays 
 had a single diving apparatus with them, but in- 
 tended to use it only w r hen they had exhausted the 
 sponges in the shallower depths. 
 
 The cleaning process of the sponges is the same 
 in whatever way they may be collected. They are 
 brought to the shore, and left for a day in the open 
 air. Then they are beaten with thick sticks, until 
 
 / 
 
 the soft tissues are removed, after which they are 
 rinsed in fresh water, thoroughly dried, and packed 
 in bundles. 
 
 The one drawback to a permanent sponge industry 
 in the cays was the absence of a running stream. 
 But for this the newcomers had provided in a 
 measure. They had brought several huge casks of 
 water with them, and quickly adopted the two 
 methods already used by the castaways to replenish 
 their stock, namely : putting eve-troughs along the 
 tents, with barrels at every corner to catch the 
 precious fluid when it rained ; and the sinking of 
 wells through the coral bed-rock until water was 
 found.
 
 STARTLING NEWS. 117 
 
 The women and children for the most part did 
 the work of cleansing ; thus leaving the men free 
 to continue daily their own work of procuring the 
 sponges. 
 
 Now followed one of the busiest months in our 
 young hero's life. At first he was assigned to boat- 
 steering, while the Cubans were employed in dredg- 
 ing. But before a week had elapsed they all had 
 become so used to the ways and means employed, 
 that they could be used at almost any point where 
 a hand was needed. 
 
 When the work was once well under way, a bale 
 of sponges a day was a fair average for the company 
 of toilers, and just a month after the sponge- 
 gatherers came a sloop-load was ready for market- 
 ing. Mr. Gowth, therefore, and a boy, with the 
 three castaways, left the island for Farmer's cay, 
 the finest station on Exuma, possessing a harbor of 
 great beauty. 
 
 In twenty hours they reached there, and stopping 
 only long enough for Mr. Gowth to greet friends, 
 and obtain a fresh supply of provisions, they again 
 sailed for Nassau, on the island of New Providence, 
 ninety miles away. 
 
 A strong breeze from the south enabled them to 
 make the run in twelve hours, and on the morning 
 of May 2d they entered the harbor. 
 
 Scarcely was their anchor down when a boat put 
 out from a neighboring vessel, and came alongside, 
 bringing the startling news that the United States 
 had declared war with Spain ; the harbor of Havana 
 was blockaded ; and several vessels flying the 
 Spanish flag were already captured.
 
 118 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK, 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE BOMBARDMENT OF SAN JUAN. 
 
 IT is a question who was the most excited over 
 this startling news the American lad, or the Cuban 
 men. Eagerly they asked the man who had made 
 the announcement for fuller details, finding that he 
 had in that single sentence really told them all he 
 knew. 
 
 " We can get the full particulars at the United 
 States consular office," suggested the older Cuban; 
 " and if we were only in a presentable garb I should 
 advise our going there at once." 
 
 " We \vill go on shore and purchase the present- 
 able garbs," said Bert with a smile. Then he told 
 the two fellows, who had for so long a time been his 
 sole companions, of the money he possessed. 
 
 " I have one hundred dollars in gold in one of 
 the pockets of my cork-jacket ; and have purposely 
 kept it for just such an emergency as this,'' he said. 
 " We will all go on shore, purchase the clothing, 
 secure rooms at the hotel, and then call on the 
 consul." 
 
 His friends protested against his using the money 
 for them, saying they had friends in Xew York, and 
 possibly could arrange some way to draw upon them 
 ror whatever amounts they might need. 
 
 "Well, we'll get the outfits, and arrange that 
 matter later," Bert persisted. 
 
 Captain Gowth also desired to visit the city, and 
 in a short time all four were landed on the nearest 
 wharf.
 
 THE BOMBARDMENT OF SAN JUAN. H9 
 
 In a clothing store but a short distance from the 
 dock the lad and his comrades were soon fitted out 
 with everything they needed at a reasonable price, 
 and, in a back-room of the establishment, speedily 
 transformed themselves, so that they hardly knew 
 each other. Then, inquiring their way to a good 
 hotel, they soon sat down to the finest breakfast they 
 had eaten in many months. 
 
 They did not have to wait until they visited the 
 consul, however, to ascertain the details of the war. 
 At the table with them was an Englishman, who, 
 learning they were recent arrivals in the city, 
 told them the story of the blowing up of the Maine 
 in Havana harbor, of the dismissal of the American 
 minister from Madrid, and the formal declaration of 
 war by the United States Congress for the purpose 
 of securing the liberty of Cuba. 
 
 The effect of this recital upon the Cubans was 
 plainly visible. "With flushed cheeks and sparkling 
 eyes they declared they should sail at the first op- 
 portunity for New York, and offer their services to 
 the United States government; and, when the re- 
 citer of these stirring items added that the blockad- 
 ing of the Cuban ports doubtless would be rapidly 
 followed by the blockading of Porto Rico, Bert 
 was equally anxious to depart for San Juan at the 
 earliest moment. 
 
 Their interview with the consul an hour later 
 was very satisfactory. That gentleman received 
 them courteously, and listened attentively to their 
 stories. 
 
 Then he said to the Cubans : 
 
 " A steamer leaves here to-morrow for New York. 
 I will cable your friends in that city, and advance 
 you whatever amount they direct. Meantime I will 
 engage your passages. Call at nine in the morning 
 and we will adjust these matters." 
 
 To Bert he added:
 
 120 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 " I have heard of you, young man. In fact in- 
 quiries about you have been very much in evidence 
 the last six or seven months. A man named Loomis 
 in your native village has directed me to spare no 
 expense to ascertain your fate ; and your father's 
 bankers in San Juan have notified me to follow up 
 any clew that might lead to your discovery regard- 
 less of the cost." 
 
 " You see three boats of the ill-fated Alhambra 
 reached Cab Island in safety, and the passengers 
 were brought to this city. Nothing was known of 
 the fourth boat, and it was generally believed that 
 the steamer went down before it could be launched 
 with all on board. 
 
 " But several weeks later your friend Mr. Barnes 
 appeared on the scene. His cork-jacket had kept 
 him afloat until he was picked up by a tramp 
 steamer, that carried him to the coast of Africa. 
 From there he cabled your father, and, as soon as 
 the return passage could be made, joined him in 
 Porto Rico. Both refuse to believe that you are 
 dead, and every consul in these islands has been 
 asked to keep a lookout for you. I advise you, 
 therefore, to cable your friends in the States and 
 also at San Juan of your rescue." 
 
 " Then Mr. Barnes escaped ! " cried the lad joy- 
 fully, when the consul had done speaking. " I'm 
 so glad ! But how soon can I get a passage for the 
 island ! " 
 
 " Don't go," answered the officer, sententiously ; 
 " let your father know of your safety, but either re- 
 turn to the States, or await his orders here. Things 
 may be very unpleasant in Porto Rico before this 
 war is over, and it will be better for you to keep 
 out of the island for the present. Draw on me for 
 whatever money you may need until your plans are 
 formed." 
 
 But this advice was not to Bert's liking. He
 
 THE BOMBARDMENT OF SAN JUAN. 
 
 desired to join his father, and while going back to 
 his hotel hit upon a scheme which he believed would 
 enable him to sail for San Juan before the consul 
 knew of it, or his father could forbid it. 
 
 Stepping up to the clerk in the hotel office, as 
 soon as he arrived there, he asked : 
 
 " Do you know of any vessel that will leave here 
 for Porto Kico soon ? Either a steamer or a sailing 
 craft will answer my purpose." 
 
 " I do not," the clerk answered, politely ; " but I 
 will make inquiries for you, if you wish." 
 
 " Thank you ; I wish you would," the boy replied. 
 
 He now went and cabled Mr. Loomis, asking him 
 to tell his aunt of his safety, and inform her that he 
 should join his father in Porto Rico at once. But 
 the cablegram to his father's bankers he purposely 
 withheld until he should have secured a passage for 
 the island. 
 
 While he was busy writing a long letter to his 
 aunt, telling the story of his island imprisonment 
 and final rescue, Captain Gowth called. He had 
 sold his load of sponges at a good figure, and had 
 now come to settle with the boy and the Cubans, 
 and so generous was he with his pay that all three 
 were sure they would now need no financial help 
 from the consul in order to reach their respective 
 destinations. 
 
 At supper-time the hotel clerk informed Bert that 
 there was a British brig in port which would sail 
 for Porto Rico on the following day, and it might 
 be possible for him to obtain a passage on her. 
 
 Inquiring where he could find the vessel, he was 
 told that her captain was just then in the hotel 
 reading-room, and he at once accepted the offer of 
 the clerk to be introduced to him. 
 
 Two minutes later he was telling his story to 
 Captain Mattox, a big burly Englishman, and closed 
 with the anxious question :
 
 122 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 " Now, Captain, can I secure a passage with you 
 for San Juan \ " 
 
 " I'll certainly let you go along with me," the 
 Britisher said, heartily. " But I won't promise to 
 deliver you safely in the city, for I'm not sure of 
 getting there myself. I hope, however, to get in 
 there before the port is blockaded by the United 
 States warships. It's worth a pretty penny to my 
 shippers if I can do so." 
 
 Then lowering his voice he added : 
 
 " Get your traps ready, and go on board with me 
 to-night at eight. The general report is that I am 
 to sail to-morrow, but the fact is I shall be miles 
 outside before the light of another day." 
 
 Thanking him for his kindness, the lad hastened 
 his preparations. He added a postscript to the letter 
 he had already written his aunt, giving the name of 
 the vessel on which he had taken passage for San 
 Juan, and the hour of his sailing. 
 
 He then went to the telegraph office, and finding 
 there was still an uninterrupted cable with Porto 
 Rico, sent the following message to his father's 
 bankers : 
 
 " NASSAU, K P., May 2, 1898. 
 
 " To MAKINGS, TEMPEKO, AND YANDENTI, 
 
 " SAN JUAN, PORTO Rico. 
 
 " Send word to Captain Albert Larkin that I am 
 alive and well just rescued from an island imprison- 
 ment of seven months. Sail to-day for San Juan on 
 British Brig Henrietta. 
 
 " BEET LARKIN." 
 
 His last half hour was spent with the Cubans, 
 from whom he now parted with much regret. They 
 already knew something of his plans, and sym- 
 pathized with him, but for the first time now heard 
 them in detail. 
 
 After explaining how he had secured an oppor-
 
 THE BOMBARDMENT OF SAN JUAN. 123 
 
 tunity to leave Nassau immediately for his destina- 
 tion, he said, laughingly : 
 
 " When you call on the consul to-morrow morning 
 tell him I have stolen a march on him, and am al- 
 ready well on my way towards San Juan. Inform 
 him, however, that I obeyed him in sending word 
 of my escape to my friends, and thank him for his 
 offer of funds, an offer I did not need to accept." 
 
 At eight o'clock, with a neat and trim valise in 
 his hand, and looking every inch a traveler, he 
 stepped into Captain Mattox's yawl, and was taken 
 off to the brig, a staunch vessel of six hundred tons. 
 
 A stateroom next to the captain's was soon got 
 ready for him, and at ten he was sleeping soundly. 
 Several hours later he aroused enough to become 
 aware by the motion of the vessel that they were 
 at sea. 
 
 " We are off," he murmured ; " I shall soon be 
 with father," and turning over in his berth he sank 
 into a fitful sleep. He seemed to be following his 
 father over hills, through forests, and across streams ; 
 there were many strange faces in the scenes through 
 which he passed, and some were threatening and 
 some friendly. Prominent among the latter was 
 the countenance of Lawyer Greene, of Goodport, only 
 in the dream he seemed to be an officer of high rank 
 in the army. He awoke before the dream was fin- 
 ished, and before he had found his father, and was 
 troubled by that circumstance for some time. 
 
 But it was a beautiful day, and after a hearty 
 breakfast he went on deck, and soon threw off his 
 depressed feelings ; he had occasion to recall that 
 dream many times, however, before he saw his 
 father. 
 
 The brig, though a staunch vessel, was not a fast 
 sailer ; the winds were light ; and the nine hundred 
 miles between Nassau and San Juan were, there- 
 fore, logged off slowly.
 
 124 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 It was the afternoon of the eighth day out before 
 the mountains of the island were seen, and then the 
 sudden appearance of a large steamer, with the stars 
 and stripes at her masthead, caused the captain to 
 change his course, and bear off towards the Danish 
 island of St. Thomas. 
 
 Rapidly the steamer overhauled the brig, and 
 when she was about two miles off, she sent a shot 
 flying across the bow of the fleeing vessel. 
 
 Captain Mattox responded by running the British 
 flag up to the brig's peak, but kept straight on his 
 course. As soon as the flag was seen the war vessel 
 saluted, and, sheering off, ran back towards the har- 
 bor of San Juan. 
 
 " I reckoned that would satisfy her," the watching 
 captain remarked to Bert. " She has no reason to 
 make a fuss with that flag." 
 
 " But you'll have to give up going into San Juan, 
 won't you?" the lad inquired, somewhat anxiously. 
 
 " Not much. Wait until night falls, and see," 
 was the laconic answer. 
 
 In two hours the sun went down, and as the dark- 
 ness settled over the deep the course of the brig was 
 changed, and under a favoring breeze she sped 
 back towards the island, perhaps forty miles away. 
 
 Her skipper, moreover, evidently knew his ground, 
 for he ran close into the island, then along under its 
 shadow, and at a little after midnight was off San 
 Juan harbor. 
 
 Hugging close into the shore, the vessel sped 
 around the island point, on which the city is situated, 
 and for fear of the forts, came to anchor. But with 
 early light she signaled for a pilot, and was soon 
 under wa} T again. 
 
 "With her flag flying at her peak she glided into 
 the inner harbor, and was safe. But it was none too 
 soon, for in less than twenty-four hours Sampson's 
 fleet lay off Morro Castle.
 
 THE BOMBARDMENT OF SAN JUAN. 125 
 
 As Captain Mattox prepared to visit the city, he 
 said to his passenger : 
 
 " I know ho\v anxious you must be to get on 
 shore ; but until we learn the lay of things I advise 
 you to pass yourself for an English boy, and my 
 ward." 
 
 To this Bert readily assented, and they were 
 rowed over to the docks. Their first call was at 
 the British consul's. There they learned there was 
 no United States consul in the city, and that the 
 English consular office was attending to all the 
 American affairs. 
 
 When told who the lad was, and his purpose in 
 coming to the island, the official looked grave. 
 
 " I know your father very well," he said ; " but 
 so far as I know he has not been up to the city for 
 at least thirty days, and there are rumors that things 
 are not as pleasant down in his region as they might 
 be. Marinos, Tempero, and Vandenti are, however, 
 a reliable firm, and as you have cabled them of your 
 coming, we will call there as soon as I have finished 
 business with Captain Mattox." 
 
 In a half-hour, therefore, they went over to the 
 office of the bankers. 
 
 Mr. Marinos, the senior member of the firm, was 
 in, and greeted the boy cordially. 
 
 " I received your cablegram," he explained to 
 Bert, " and at once sent a trusty messenger down to 
 the plantation with it ; but he has not returned, 
 though he should have been back at least five days 
 ago. I cannot account for his delay, nor for some 
 other facts, unless there is trouble down there." 
 
 "What trouble could there be?" asked the lad, 
 apprehensively. 
 
 " Well, your father is an American, and Spaniards 
 and Americans are not the best friends just now," 
 the banker said, reluctantly. " Then there is a 
 lawless gang down there in those mountains, who,
 
 126 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 taking advantage of the present trouble between our 
 governments, are running things their own way." 
 
 " Is it any more than rumor ? " questioned the 
 consul. 
 
 " I fear it is," replied Mr. Marines, with a shake 
 of his head. 
 
 " What had I better do then ? " inquired the boy. 
 
 " Stay here until I can send a second messenger 
 down to the Anvil," responded the banker. " I will 
 gladly receive you into my house, if you desire." 
 
 " It will be safer for him to remain with me," the 
 consul suggested, quickly. 
 
 " Yes," admitted Mr. Marines ; '' especially if the 
 city is besieged, as it is likely to be. But spare no 
 expense, sir, to make the lad comfortable, and I will 
 pay the bills, for his father has large sums deposited 
 with me. I will also send you word when my sec- 
 ond messenger returns. He shall be despatched to- 
 day." 
 
 More worried than he cared to show Bert accom- 
 panied the consul back to his office, and, later in 
 the day, across the bay to San Tuice, a delightful 
 suburb, where was the consular residence. 
 
 Before they went it was known that the United 
 States warships were approaching the harbor, and 
 intense anxiety prevailed in the city and the sur- 
 rounding towns. 
 
 Mrs. Ralston, the consul's wife, was much alarmed, 
 and it needed every assurance her husband could 
 give her to allay her fears. 
 
 " We are out of all danger here," he repeatedly 
 said ; " and there is no danger at the consular office 
 as long as the British flag floats above its door." 
 
 Between the excitement attending the presence 
 of the fleet, and the uncertainty of his father's 
 whereabouts, it is not strange that our hero felt 
 little like sleep when shown to his room in the con- 
 sul's home.
 
 THE BOMBARDMENT OF SAN JUAN. 
 
 In spite of himself, his dream on the night he left 
 Nassau would recur to his mind, and for a long 
 time he walked his room in a state of mingled anx- 
 iety and alarm. 
 
 At length he threw himself, without undressing, 
 upon his bed, and sank into a troubled sleep. 
 
 From this he was suddenly awakened by a loud 
 booming. It took him a moment to collect his 
 thoughts. As he waited, a second boom, followed 
 by a tremendous explosion that shook the building. 
 Then he knew where he was, and what was hap- 
 pening. 
 
 He was in San Juan, and Sampson had begun to 
 bombard the forts.
 
 128 A YANKEE LAB'S PLUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A NEW FRIEND. 
 
 AT that moment a knock came at his door, and 
 the voice of the consul said : 
 
 " Wake up, Mr. Larkin ! The firing has begun, 
 and I thought you might wish to go with us to a 
 hill back of the house, where we shall have a good 
 view of the harbor and its fortifications." 
 
 In an instant the lad was on his feet. 
 
 " I will join you in a minute," he answered. 
 
 It was scarcely more than that when he descended 
 to the dining-room, where he met Mr. and Mrs. 
 Ralston. They first had a light lunch and hot 
 coffee, and then left the house for the summit of a 
 high hill not many rods back of the consular resi- 
 dence. 
 
 It was just at sunrise. Across the sparkling 
 water of the harbor was the city ; to the left was 
 Morro Castle and the lighthouse ; while beyond, at 
 the entrance of the bay, lay the great warships, 
 with their steam and smoke rising high in the 
 heavens. 
 
 " That's the Indiana there at the right ! " cried 
 Mr. Ralston. " Now watch ! " 
 
 He had hardly spoken when a great, rolling, 
 white cloud, blended with a red sheaf of flame, 
 spouted out from her turret, and the watchers saw 
 what looked like a black ball dart across the sky on 
 a low curve. It was an eleven-hundred-pound shell, 
 and it struck just back of Morro Castle, and the
 
 A NEW FRIEND. 129 
 
 next instant fire flashed out on all sides where it 
 struck, and great fragments of earth and stone 
 flew up. 
 
 " Whew ! " whistled Bert, " that was a good 
 one." 
 
 They stood looking at the fort for some moments 
 before the heavy boom of a gun shook the windows 
 of the houses about them, to be followed instantly 
 by the sound of the explosion of the shell back of 
 the castle. The whole city appeared to throw back 
 the echoes to the seaward. 
 
 There was another sound, too, like low thunder, 
 or like the rumbling of a freight-train passing over 
 a bridge at a distance. This the consul declared to 
 be the roaring of the great projectiles through the 
 air. 
 
 The New York, Sampson's flag-ship, was firing 
 also at the fort ; and soon they heard the eight and 
 twelve-inch guns of the Iowa. But none of them 
 shook the windows like the thirteen-inch guns of 
 the Indiana. 
 
 Every fort was now replying, and soon there was 
 such a cloud of smoke that the observers lost sight 
 of the ships entirely. The roar, however, was al- 
 most continuous ; and the fortifications being nearer, 
 their guns drowned those of the ironclads. 
 
 The little party were so much excited and inter- 
 ested in what they saw that they did not notice the 
 approach of a gentleman, until a hearty voice said 
 in English : 
 
 " Good morning, Ralston ! Good morning, ma- 
 dam ! and good morning, youngster ! " 
 
 " Good morning, Swallow ! " responded the con- 
 sul, shaking hands vigorously with the newcomer, 
 adding : " I didn't know you were up to the city, 
 sir." 
 
 " Came up from the ranch yesterday, and ran 
 over here last evening to stay with an old acquaint- 
 9
 
 130 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 ance," explained the gentleman. " That is his party 
 over on the opposite hill. I noticed you here, and 
 came across to see you." 
 
 " I'm glad you did ; but, by the way, Swallow, 
 this is a youngster you will be interested in. Mr. 
 Swallow, Master Albert Lark in, son of Captain 
 Larkin, your neighbor as you count neighbors 
 over there in the east part of the island." 
 
 Bert turned instantly and gave the man a search- 
 ing look. 
 
 He was a tall, stout gentleman of perhaps forty 
 years, in the typical dress of the planter ; but there 
 was a frank, open face that was to be trusted, and 
 the lad felt he had found a friend the moment he 
 stepped forward to acknowledge this formal intro- 
 duction. 
 
 The man, however, only stared at him; and it 
 was not until he had said : " I'm glad to meet you, 
 Mr. Swallow, and trust you can tell me something 
 of my father," that the gentleman recovered himself 
 enough to exclaim : 
 
 " Then you aren't dead after all ! That's what 
 both Barnes and the captain maintained the last 
 time they were over to my hacienda ; but I told 
 them it was holding out against every reasonable 
 hope. I shall have to take it back though, won't I? 
 But tell me where you have been ever since last 
 September, and how you happen to turn up here 
 now." 
 
 Quickly Bert told of his island imprisonment, and 
 then asked, eagerly : 
 
 " But when was my father at your house, Mr. 
 Swallow ? How long ago was it ? " 
 
 "About two months ago. Barnes and he had 
 been up here, and were on their way back to the 
 Anvil. They stopped over night with me, as they 
 always do when making the trip," responded the 
 planter, now recovering from his evident surprise in
 
 A NEW FRIEND. 131 
 
 meeting the boy sufficiently to shake hands heartily 
 with him. 
 
 " Haven't you seen or heard anything- from them 
 since then, Mr. Swallow ? " inquired the lad in ap- 
 parent disappointment. 
 
 "Yes," he replied; "about a month ago I was 
 over at their ranch. They were well then, and I've 
 heard nothing to the contrary since my visit. You 
 see," he added by way of explanation, " it is twenty 
 miles through the mountains to your father's planta- 
 tion, and we don't often see each other." 
 
 Mr. Ralston now interrupted, and told why Bert 
 was so anxious. 
 
 It was now Mr. Swallow's turn to grow grave. 
 
 " It looks bad, that's a fact," he admitted. " I 
 own up that there is a gang of brigands operating 
 in the mountains has been for some time raiding 
 the villages, robbing travelers, and terrorizing the 
 whole neighborhood. That is what I went over to 
 Larkin's to see him about. I Avanted to consult with 
 him and Barnes about putting an end to the rascals' 
 depredations ; we decided, however, that it was 
 wiser to complain to the district authorities rather 
 than take things into our own hands. They prom- 
 ised to send a force into the hills and disperse the 
 robbers, but have never done so. I took care also 
 to warn both Larkin and Barnes, before I left their 
 ranch, to keep a sharp lookout, as the fact that they 
 were Americans might work against them if war 
 broke out." 
 
 Noticing the lad's troubled face at this frank ad- 
 mission of the planter, the consul quickly called the 
 attention of his party to the changed position of the 
 American fleet. 
 
 The smoke had now blown away, and they saw 
 that five of the warships had approached closer to 
 the fortifications. "While they were watching them 
 the New Y^ork suddenly opened fire on the castle,
 
 132 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 and they saw the masonry fly like chaff as the heavy 
 projectiles struck it. A few* minutes later the Iowa 
 also began firing her heavy guns at the fort and 
 light-tower. 
 
 They also saw several shells sweep above 'the 
 fortifications, and fall in or near that quarter of the 
 city which is just back of Morro, and wondered if 
 they did much damage. 
 
 Terrible as the sight was they enjoyed it. It was 
 exciting and thrilling, though great devastation fol- 
 lowed in the wake of every one of those great shells. 
 
 Soon another immense cloud of smoke and dust 
 hid everything from view in the direction of the 
 city ; the smoke from the warships, too, drifted 
 across the harbor and brought with it the acrid 
 smell of gunpowder. 
 
 Under these circumstances the watchers had to 
 judge of the progress of the battle wholly by the 
 sense of hearing ; and it was not long before they 
 detected that the firing of the forts had ceased. 
 
 " I wonder if they are disabled," remarked Mr. 
 Swallow. 
 
 " No, the fleet has also ceased firing," Mr. Ealston 
 replied, listening a moment ; " and when the smoke 
 lifts we may be able to tell the cause." 
 
 They were surprised, when the smoke drifted 
 away, "to see the castle not seriously damaged, and 
 yet the ships abandoning the fight. 
 
 " I don't see what they are doing that for," Bert 
 said in perplexity. 
 
 " Possibly the elevation of the Morro above the 
 sea renders the shots of the vessels ineffective," sug- 
 gested the consul. 
 
 They knew later, however, that the real object of 
 the bombardment had been to locate the forts, and 
 to test the accuracy of their fire ; and this certainly 
 had been successfully accomplished, and no damage 
 done to the warships whatever.
 
 A NEW FRIEND. 133 
 
 It was now half-past six. They had been out 
 there over two hours, and were glad to return to 
 the house for rest and refreshments. 
 
 Mr. Swallow, at the invitation of the consul, ac- 
 companied them. While they were eating breakfast 
 Bert heard the guest say that he was to leave early 
 the following day for his ranch. 
 
 The lad glanced wishfully over at Mr. Ralston, 
 whom he regarded as his guardian and protector for 
 the time. 
 
 " Why cannot I go along with Mr. Swallow as 
 far as hjs plantation ? " he asked. " From there it 
 will be easy to communicate with father." 
 
 " Of course it will," assented the planter, heartily. 
 " I will ride over with you myself. Let the boy go, 
 Ralston." 
 
 " I can see no harm in it," said that gentleman, 
 slowly, " and will consent, if Marinos does. "We'll 
 see him to-day." 
 
 The banker was uneasy when this proposition was 
 made to him. But Mr. Swallow was so sure he 
 could look out for the lad, Mr. Marinos finally 
 yielded, and it was decided that he should go. 
 
 At the financier's suggestion, however, Bert was 
 put into the dress of the planter, and armed with, 
 pistols and the indispensable machete. A fine saddle- 
 horse was also furnished him from the banker's own 
 well-equipped stable, and early the next morning 
 he and Mr. Swallow, and a single attendant, left 
 the city. 
 
 Their course was over the San Antonio bridge to 
 the main island, and along the great military road, 
 that runs from San Juan to Ponce, as far as the 
 town of Roble ; then they turned to the east, and 
 by a narrow and winding path pushed steadily for- 
 ward towards the Cayagua river. 
 
 The farther they went the rougher the way be- 
 came, and the lad soon understood why it was that
 
 134 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 his father found it necessary to take two days for 
 the fifty-five miles' journey to the Anvil. 
 
 Under ordinary circumstances Bert would have 
 been interested in the strange scenes through which 
 he was passing the immense ranches, the fine 
 orchards of tropical fruits, the quaint nouses, the 
 great forests, the picturesque people. But only one 
 thing now claimed his attention he was going to 
 his father every mile passed over was a mile nearer 
 to him and he thought of his journey only in that 
 light. There would be time enough later on to study 
 the scenes about him. 
 
 After fording the Cayagua river, they stopped 
 for dinner ; but two hours later were in the saddle 
 and riding to the southeast. All the afternoon the 
 country grew more and more hilly ; it was, in fact, 
 first an ascent to some woody height, then a descent 
 into some narrow valley through which a stream of 
 sparkling water ran. There were streams every- 
 where. 
 
 Towards the middle of the afternoon Mr. Swallow 
 suggested that they look well to their pistols, and 
 keep close together. 
 
 " The precaution may be entirely unnecessary," 
 he added, " but it is safer, as we are now in a 
 region where the brigands have recently carried on 
 some of their depredations." 
 
 For an hour they kept their horses nearly abreast, 
 and soon they reached the brow of the hill, where 
 they caught a glimpse of a small lake, picturesquely 
 shaded by huge palms. 
 
 Pointing towards this sheet of water, Mr. Swallow 
 said : 
 
 " That is on my ranch, and within a mile of my 
 house. At the foot of this hill is the brook which 
 marks the western boundary of my property. In 
 fifteen minutes we shall be there, and out of all 
 danger,"
 
 A NEW FRIEND. 135 
 
 He rode ahead as he spoke, and, closely followed, 
 first by the lad, and then by the native attendant, 
 dashed down the hill. 
 
 At the stream they stopped to allow their horses 
 to drink, and then began to ford the stream. 
 
 The next moment there was a clatter of horses' 
 feet behind them, and a half-dozen swarthy men, 
 armed with rifles, pistols and machetes, rode rapidly 
 out from the surrounding forest and down towards 
 them. 
 
 u Quick ! They are the brigands ! " shouted the 
 planter, putting spurs to his horse. His companions 
 followed his example, and the three steeds sprang 
 out of the brook together. 
 
 At the same instant, the pursuers raised their 
 rifles and fired. A bullet whistled close to the lad's 
 head, but he was untouched ; Mr. Swallow ap- 
 parently was uninjured also ; the native, however, 
 fell back into the stream, dead or severely wounded, 
 while his horse ran wildly on towards his home. 
 
 " Come on, lad ! " cried the Englishman to Bert, 
 who was looking back at the fallen man ; " Pedro 
 is done for, and we must be out of range before 
 those rascals can load again. They won't follow us 
 farther than the edge of this forest." 
 
 Side by side the horses dashed ; in less than five 
 minutes they were out in the open valley, with the 
 mansion house in full sight ; in another five minutes 
 they were at the building. 
 
 As they reined in their panting beasts, Mr. Swallow 
 said in Spanish to the crowd of servants who rushed 
 out to meet them : 
 
 " Make haste, boys ! I'm wounded ! " 
 
 Then he fell forward on the neck of his horse, 
 and would have rolled to the ground had not a 
 stalwart negro caught him in his arms. He had 
 fainted from the loss of blood.
 
 136 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 AT EL YUNQUE KANCH. 
 
 As the servant caught his master in his arras, he 
 looked inquiringly at the lad, and, for the second 
 time since he had left the States, Bert was thankful 
 he could speak Spanish. His long sojourn with the 
 Cubans had, moreover, rendered him so proficient in 
 the use of the language, he now had no difficulty in 
 explaining to his listeners the exciting adventure 
 through which he and the ranchman had just passed. 
 
 As he was talking, there was another arrival. A 
 horseman galloped up the lane, and into the crowd, 
 asking in his native tongue, for he was evidently an 
 islander : 
 
 " What is it, boys ? The master wounded ? Who 
 has done this ? " 
 
 " It's the gefe-chief," the men explained, stepping 
 back, and allowing him to dismount within a few 
 feet of the young stranger. 
 
 To him Bert only said : 
 
 " I'm Bert Larkin, son of Captain Larkin, at the 
 El Yunque ranch. I came out from the city with 
 your master. At the brook two miles west of here 
 we were attacked by the bandits, and Mr. Swallow 
 was shot. He is no"t dead, though, only faint from 
 the loss of blood. He should be attended to at once. 
 I will tell you the rest of my story later." 
 
 " You are right," the gefe promptly responded. 
 " Here, boys, bring the master into the house." 
 
 Four of the peasants raised the wounded man,
 
 AT EL YUNQUE RANCH. 137 
 
 and, led by the overseer, bore him through the 
 broad doorway into a large, spacious sitting-room. 
 
 Throwing open a door on the right, the chief dis- 
 closed a large bedroom, where he directed the men 
 to lay their unconscious burden down. 
 
 " Tell the mistress," he then said to a house-girl, 
 Avho at that moment appeared from one of the 
 inner rooms of the mansion. 
 
 But the man did not wait for Mrs. Swallow to 
 come. Calling Bert to his assistance, he stripped off 
 the Englishman's clothing, and looked for the wound 
 that had already saturated the garments with blood. 
 
 He soon found it on the left side, just below the 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Good ! " he exclaimed, after examining the in- 
 jury a moment. " Ball entered there," pointing to 
 the back, "and came out here," turning the body 
 so as to reveal the left breast. " Wound is not 
 over an inch or two deep. We shall soon pull him 
 through." 
 
 At that instant a woman of singular beauty 
 entered. Her dark face told that she was of either 
 native or Spanish blood perhaps a mixture. She 
 merely glanced at the young American, and then, 
 dropping to her knees beside the bed, grasped one 
 of the limp hands of the wounded man, asked pas- 
 sionately : 
 
 " Is he dead ? Oh ! do not tell me he is dead ! " 
 
 "No, senora, only wounded, and not badly at 
 that," replied the gefe. " We will first staunch 
 this blood, and then restore him to consciousness. 
 Quick with the bandages and restoratives! You 
 know where they are. Master always has them 
 ready." 
 
 She arose at once from her knees, and went to a 
 closet built into one side of the room. Throwing 
 open the door, she came quickly back with rolls, 
 bandages, and bottles, and then with deft hands
 
 138 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 helped to bind up the wounds, and press a cordial 
 between the lips of her husband. 
 
 These efforts had the desired effect. The eves of 
 the man opened, and he said distinctly, though 
 feebly : 
 
 " ft is nothing, Inez. I shall soon be myself 
 again." 
 
 Then noticing Bert, standing a few feet away, he 
 111 
 added : 
 
 " This young lad is Captain Larkin's son, Inez. 
 He wasn't lost at sea as was feared. I brought him 
 along with me on the way to his father's." 
 
 She turned and gave the boy a bright smile. 
 Then she said in excellent English : 
 
 " I am so glad for your father ! He has been 
 worried greatly about you, but now r he'll be happy. 
 I must not forget I am your hostess, however." 
 
 She stepped into the parlor, and touched a call- 
 bell that lay on the table. A maid the same one 
 that had gone to call her mistress immediately 
 appeared. 
 
 " Make ready the guest chamber," she said in 
 Spanish. Then added in English to the waiting 
 boy: 
 
 " Sit down in the parlor a few minutes, Mr. 
 Larkin, and excuse me ; " then she went back to her 
 husband. 
 
 In ten minutes the maid returned, and showed 
 the lad to his room. 
 
 " Dinner will be ready in a half-hour," she an- 
 nounced in Spanish, waiting to see if the guest 
 understood her. 
 
 " Muy bien, gracias " very well, thank you 
 Bert responded, smilingly. 
 
 She smiled also ; and satisfied that her announce- 
 ment was intelligible, she disappeared. 
 
 Glancing about the apartment, the boy at once 
 felt at home. The furniture was old and' massive,
 
 AT EL YUNQUE RANCH. 139 
 
 but arranged not unlike a guest chamber in the 
 States, while the bed was clean and comfortable. 
 
 " It hardly seems as though I could be in Porto 
 Rico," he murmured, hastening to bathe and dress 
 for the coming meal. 
 
 This was abundant, and consisted of soup, roast 
 fowl, vegetables and fruits ; but he ate alone, and 
 immediately afterwards retired to his room. 
 
 Not to sleep, however. He was now within 
 twenty miles of his father, and should see him on 
 the morrow, unless in spite of himself he could 
 not help thinking of that unless unless something 
 had happened to him. For the second time his 
 dream, on the night he left Nassau, came vividly 
 before him. Was it now being realized ? 
 
 Mr. Swallow's wound doubtless had much to do 
 with his sad forebodings. Had his father fallen a 
 victim to the same gang of depredators ? With a 
 stout resolve he determined to know the worst as 
 soon as possible. 
 
 It was late when he fell asleep, and he slept late. 
 In fact, the sun was several hours high when he 
 awoke. Dressing, he made his way down to the 
 parlor. His entrance there must have been heard 
 by Mrs. Swallow, for almost immediately the door 
 of her room opened, and she appeared. 
 
 Greeting him cordially, she answered his anxious 
 inquiry for her husband's condition by saying : 
 
 " He is very comfortable indeed this morning, 
 and wishes to see you after you have eaten your 
 breakfast. I will order it at once." 
 
 She returned in five minutes, and led the way 
 herself to the dining-room, where the lad did full 
 justice to the hearty repast placed before him. 
 Then he accompanied her to her husband's bedside. 
 
 "Good morning, my lad," Mr. Swallow said, 
 cheerfull} 7 , as Bert came in. " I'm here for a few 
 days only, and now which will you do : wait until I
 
 140 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 am able to go over to the Anvil with you, as I fully 
 intended before this mishap ; or will you go to- 
 day?" 
 
 " To-day, if I can find the way," the boy answered 
 promptly. 
 
 " Oh ! I'll furnish you with a guide a faithful 
 fellow who will not leave you until you are safe 
 in your father's hands." 
 
 " Then I'll start at once, unless," he added, " I 
 can be of some service to you." 
 
 " Not in the least," responded the wounded man ; 
 " I'm in good hands," and he looked lovingly at his 
 wife. " I also anticipated your decision, and have 
 the guide and horses at the door. But I have a 
 single word of caution for you : If there is any 
 trouble at the Anvil, and you don't find your father, 
 you had better return here." 
 
 " I will," promised the lad, and then, after thank- 
 ing his kind friend for all he had done for him, he 
 Avent out to his-horse and guide, and was soon on 
 his way. 
 
 The road, rougher if anything than the one over 
 which he had come the day before, wound among 
 the hills, and it was impossible to make over four 
 miles an hour. His guide, an old native, who had 
 passed his whole life in that region, was evidently a 
 man of few words. Always attentive to the lad's 
 questions, and watchful to make his journey pleas- 
 ant, he nevertheless spoke only when spoken to, 
 and then always answered in the briefest way. 
 
 At first Bert kept a hand on his pistols, and 
 looked furtively about him as they entered every 
 new forest, but seeing nothing to awaken suspicion, 
 ,he at length dismissed his fears, and rode, as did his 
 attendant, carelessly on. 
 
 At noon they had made scarcely more than eight 
 miles, but stopped for the siesta so common in all 
 tropical lands.
 
 AT EL YUNQUE RANCH. 141 
 
 After eating the lunch Mrs. Swallow had gener- 
 ously provided, the guide took out his tobacco 
 pouch, and, rolling up a cigarette, settled himself 
 for a smoke. Then he stretched himself in the 
 shade of a huge gum tree, and dropped into a 
 slumber so sound that the lad, impatient to con- 
 tinue their journey, found it difficult to arouse him ; 
 and when aroused his invariable reply would be: 
 
 " No hurry ; go faster when it is cooler." 
 
 It was, therefore, certainly three o'clock before 
 the journey was resumed. 
 
 Two hours later they came out upon a ridge that 
 gave them a view of the great southern valley, 
 stretching off below the mountain range of the 
 great anvil-shaped peak itself, that gavo the name 
 to the surrounding region of the broad plains and 
 level meadows so different from the north side of 
 the Luquillos. 
 
 Here the guide ventured his first remark without 
 himself being addressed : 
 
 " That all your father's hacienda," and his hand 
 swept across the whole panorama before them. 
 
 "With sparkling eyes Bert took in the beautiful 
 scene, and then he asked : 
 
 " How far is it to the mansion ? " 
 
 " Four miles ; good road ; come," was the laconic 
 reply, and the man led the way down the decline at 
 the fastest pace they had traveled since leaving Mr. 
 Swallow's ranch. 
 
 They were soon able to strike into a brisk canter, 
 and before long were passing through orchards of 
 tropical fruits, past fields of cotton and tobacco, and 
 in sight of nestling hamlets, where women and 
 children hastened into the open air to see the 
 travelers. 
 
 In about a half hour they came in sight of the 
 hacienda house a massive two-story stone building 
 and five minutes later halted before its door.
 
 142 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 A tall, slightly built man, unmistakably a Span- 
 iard, stood on the veranda, and, with a keen glance at 
 the boy, he asked who he was and what he wanted. 
 
 For some reason he never could tell why, but a 
 tiling he was ever afterwards profoundly thankful 
 for, the lad replied in English : 
 
 " I am Bert Larkin, Captain Larkin's son. Are 
 you his overseer ? " 
 
 Instead of answering directl\ T , the man put a 
 silver whistle to his lips, and gave a shrill blast. A 
 negro answered the call, to whom the man said in 
 Spanish : 
 
 " Take the horses to the corral, and the attendant 
 to the kitchen." 
 
 Then he said to his visitor in broken English : 
 
 " Come ! I talk to you." 
 
 Dismounting, the lad with some misgiving fol- 
 lowed the man into the house. He led the way to 
 a room in the north end, evidently fitted up for an 
 office, and, pointing to a chair, uttered the one word : 
 
 " Seat." 
 
 Bert sat down, watching the man closely, whom 
 he thought toyed too incessantly with the handle 
 of the machete in his belt. Civil as the fellow was, 
 somehow he could not help distrusting him. 
 
 The Spaniard now opened a drawer in the office 
 table, and taking out some papers, pushed them 
 towards the lad, asking : 
 
 " Read Spanish ? " 
 
 There was a subtle look in the man's eye that led 
 the boy to suspect this was a test rthe fellow was 
 trying to find out if his caller understood Spanish. 
 Would it not be just as well to have him think he 
 did not understand the language ? This question 
 flashed through the lad's mind, and remembering 
 he had never read a line in any Spanish book, he 
 answered unhesitatingly : 
 
 " No."
 
 AT EL YUNQUE RANCH. 143 
 
 He thought a look of relief passed over the Span- 
 iard's face, but if so it was quickly concealed. 
 Then the fellow declared, boldly : 
 
 " Buy ranch ! Those papers ! " 
 
 Bert took the documents into his hand, and 
 glanced them over. He could here and there make 
 out a word, and recognized that they were legal 
 writings of some kind, but that they could not be 
 what the man claimed he felt sure, for his' father's 
 signature was not on them, 
 
 He at once decided that there was some deep-laid 
 scheme to get possession of his father's property, 
 but, in hopes of getting at the bottom of the treach- 
 ery and also ascertaining what had become of his 
 father and Mr. Barnes, he handed the papers back 
 to the man, with no trace of distrust on his face, 
 asking : 
 
 " How long ago ? Where is father and Mr. 
 Barnes ? " 
 
 The Spaniard either could understand English 
 better than he could speak it, or else surmised what 
 the boy was asking, for he quickly replied : 
 
 " Two weeks ! Gone to San Juan !" 
 
 " No," responded Bert with a decisive shake of 
 his head, " I came from there." 
 
 The man held up his hands in astonishment. 
 
 " No there ! " he cried ; then suddenly : " Pay 
 cash ; brigands got them." 
 
 But for the fact that his father's name was not 
 on the papers, the boy might have believed the 
 Spaniard was honest in his suggestion, so real was 
 his acting. 
 
 "What shall I do?" asked the lad in apparent 
 dismay, on his side becoming an actor also. 
 
 He deceived the man, if the man did not deceive 
 him. 
 
 " Do ! " the fellow echoed, leaping to his feet, and 
 drawing his knife from his belt " Wait ! Mor-
 
 144 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 row men hunt so," and he made a furious ges- 
 ture of cutting an adversary's throat. 
 
 His tones were fierce his pantomine was per- 
 fect an unsuspicious observer would have thought 
 him the embodiment of a righteous indignation, 
 ready to avenge the captain's disappearance. 
 
 In a few minutes he grew calmer. 
 
 " Tired ? Hungry ? " he asked. 
 
 Bert nodded affirmatively, hoping to gain time 
 to think over the situation, and to decide what it 
 was best for him to do. 
 
 The Spaniard rang a bell ; the same negro who 
 had taken the horses appeared. To him the man 
 said in Spanish, and Bert, without appearing to do 
 so, caught every word : 
 
 " Is the room ready, Jago ? " 
 
 Si, seiior." 
 
 " Fixed just as I ordered it ? " 
 
 " Si, seiior." 
 
 " Show this young man to it." 
 
 Then to his guest he said in his brief English : 
 
 " Room ! Dinner ! hour ! " all of which the lad 
 understood to mean that he was to be shown to his 
 room first, and that dinner would be served in an 
 hour. 
 
 Uncertain as to what might be in store for him, 
 and yet not wishing to give the Spaniard any reason 
 to believe his honesty was suspected, Bert arose 
 promptly and followed the servant from the 
 office. 
 
 He was led along a broad hall, and up a wide 
 stairway, to a chamber evidently directly over the 
 room he had just left, where the servant threw 
 open a door, and made a sign for him to enter. 
 
 For a moment the boy hesitated, fearing he was 
 to be made a prisoner. But the next movement of 
 the negro completely dispelled that fear. Having 
 pointed out the room, the fellow, without himself
 
 AT EL YUNQUE RANCH. 145 
 
 entering it, turned and went back down-stairs, leav- 
 ing the guest to come and go as he pleased. 
 
 " Can I have misjudged the Spaniard? " thought 
 the lad as he now entered the comfortably furnished 
 chamber, finding not only all his baggage there, 
 but every arrangement for a luxurious bath. 
 
 He thought the matter over as he washed and re- 
 dressed, and finally concluded : 
 
 " The Spaniard thinks he has completely deceived 
 me, and will doubtless to-morrow carry out the 
 farce of pretending to hunt father up. "Well, I'll 
 let him do so, but keep my eyes and ears ready to 
 see and hear any and everything that will give 
 me light on this mysterious affair. There must be 
 some of these people about here who know and will 
 tell me the truth." 
 
 Scarcely had he come to this conclusion when a 
 bell rang below, and believing that it was a sum- 
 mons to the table, he stopped only long enough to 
 slip one of his revolvers into his hip-pocket, and 
 then hastened down-stairs. 
 
 The Spaniard met him in the hallway, and con- 
 ducted him to a room in the rear of the house, 
 where there was a well-spread table. Over this the 
 host himself presided, and no one came near him 
 and his guest while they were eating. 
 
 During the meal the man said little, and at its 
 close made a motion, which meant as plainly as 
 words could have done : 
 
 " Will you go to the office or back to your 
 room ? " 
 
 " I will go to my room," said Bert, anxious to be 
 alone and think over some plan by which he could 
 get at the very heart-secrets of a man whom he 
 believed to be a rascally schemer. 
 
 He did not notice the sudden glitter in the Span- 
 iard's eye, and went up to his chamber wholly un- 
 conscious of the trap into which he was falling. 
 10
 
 14:6 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 It was already dark, and a light shone brightly 
 from a lamp on the table as he entered his room. 
 Closing the door after him, he dropped into a 
 rocker near the bed and gave himself up to serious 
 thought. 
 
 So engrossed was he that he did not hear a light 
 step in the upper hallway, and not until a sharp 
 click sounded in the lock did he spring up in alarm. 
 
 In a second he was at the door, and had seized 
 the latch ; but he was too late. The door was fas- 
 tened ; and a hurried examination of the room dis- 
 closed two other facts : the shutters of the windows 
 were all closed and tightly secured from without ; 
 and his machete and pistol, which he had foolishly 
 left in the room while he went to supper, had been 
 removed. 
 
 Beyond all question he was a prisoner.
 
 A DIABOLICAL PLOT. 147 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A DIABOLICAL PLOT. 
 
 IN order to understand what had happened at the 
 Anvil before Bert arrived there we must go back a 
 few years in our story, and explain a matter which 
 Mr. "Barnes in his narrative of the captain's ex- 
 periences had not thought of sufficient consequence 
 even to mention. 
 
 It was not then ; but within a few months had 
 become an important factor in our tale. 
 
 When the old Spanish Don died, leaving the 
 island ranch to Captain Larkin, there was a distant 
 branch of his family still living in Spain, which by 
 the law of primogeniture succeeded to all of his 
 property in that country. 
 
 This property, however, was meager beside that 
 which he possessed in Porto Eico, and it was not 
 the intention of the head of the Spanish branch of 
 the family to lose the magnificent ranch in that isl- 
 and unless compelled to do so. An investigation was 
 set on foot immediately to test the validity of Cap- 
 tain Larkin 's claim to the vast estate. 
 
 At that time, however, it was little more than an 
 examination into the soundness and legality of his 
 title. For the agent sent out to the island returned 
 with the tidings that the plantation, instead of being 
 willed to the American captain, had, for a specified 
 consideration received to Don Maximo's full satis- 
 faction, been transferred by deed, and duly recorded 
 in accordance with the laws of the island, prior to 
 the old Spaniard's death. There could, therefore, be
 
 148 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 no disputing of Captain Larkin's right to the 
 property. 
 
 There the matter rested so far as the inheritor of 
 the Spanish estates was concerned. 
 
 But this man Don Pedro Buvinez had one child 
 a daughter already married to a haughty but 
 impoverished noble, named Don Jose Sardinas, Avho 
 was in every way as unscrupulous as he was poor 
 and proud. 
 
 He nurtured a bitter hatred against the man who 
 held what he termed his own rightful possessions, 
 and only waited for the death of his father-in-law 
 to make an attempt to obtain the property, or, failing 
 in this, to revenge himself on the man who had (as 
 he viewed it) wronged him. 
 
 About the time Mr. Barnes sailed for the States 
 to ascertain if Bert was living, the death of Don 
 Pedro occurred, and the son-in-law immediately 
 began his preparations to visit Porto Rico, and carry 
 out the purpose he had cherished so long ; and it 
 happened that he landed in San Juan the very week 
 Captain Larkin came up to that city to meet the 
 old sailor and the boy whom he had as yet never 
 seen. 
 
 As now known, three of the boats that left the 
 side of the ill-fated Alhambra reached Cat Island, 
 in the Bahama group, and the news of the sad dis- 
 aster was soon heralded all over the world. 
 
 The sorrowful tidings reached the captain on the 
 day he expected to clasp his son in his arms, and 
 with an anxious heart he waited to obtain news 
 from the fourth and last boat that was supposed to 
 have also cleared from the sinking steamer. 
 
 Day after day passed ; no news came ; and finally 
 it was the generally accepted theory that the un- 
 fortunate vessel had gone down before the yawl had 
 been launched, and, therefore, all others on board 
 Jack ami the lad included had been lost.
 
 A DIABOLICAL PLOT. 
 
 Reluctantly accepting this view at last, Captain 
 Larkin, looking older by many years than he really 
 was, because of this sudden grief, prepared to return 
 to the Anvil. 
 
 Calling at his bankers, at their request, the day 
 before his departure from the city, he was intro- 
 duced to a stranger, who proved to be Don Jose 
 Sardinas, the Spanish representative of the old 
 Don's family. 
 
 This man as we have seen had now been in 
 San Juan some days ; he had also called a number 
 of times on Mr. Marines, who, knowing nothing of 
 the fellow's real purpose in visiting the island, re- 
 ceived him cordially for the old Don's sake. Dur- 
 ing one of these interviews the banker had incident- 
 all v mentioned the sad loss of Captain Larkin's only 
 child. 
 
 The innocent bit of news filled the scheming 
 Spaniard with delight. He saw in this unexpected 
 happening an evidence that things were slowly 
 shaping themselves for his purpose ; and believed it 
 all the more when the captain himself came into 
 the office, bowed and aged by his great sorrow. 
 With the devilish cunning of which he was a perfect 
 master, he immediately decided on a bold move 
 towards the fruition of his scheme. 
 
 Greeting the captain with marked suavity, he rep- 
 resented himself as having run over to the island 
 partly for the pleasure of the trip, and partly for 
 the sake of visiting the old estate of his wife's grand 
 uncle. 
 
 Learning the captain was in the city, he had ven- 
 tured to arrange for this meeting, and hoped, ere 
 his return home, to have the great felicity of calling 
 at the plantation for a brief inspection of it. 
 
 The captain, looking through the glasses of his 
 own honesty and integrity, saw nothing out of the 
 way in the man's proposal, and heartily invited him
 
 150 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 to accompany him down to the ranch for an ex- 
 tended visit. 
 
 This invitation was promptly a'ccepted, and three 
 days later the Spaniard was installed in the haci- 
 enda house as the captain's guest. > 
 
 It drew the captain's attention largely from his 
 recent affliction to show his visitor over the estate. 
 This, as is already known to the reader, had under 
 the present owner's sagacity and enterprise been 
 brought to a condition that made it one of the finest 
 plantations in the island. Every new aspect of its 
 resources and value, therefore, only caused the loss 
 of it to rankle deeper and deeper in the observer's 
 heart, and led him to resolve more and more, by 
 fair means or by foul, to come into possession of it. 
 
 Finding that the captain missed greatly the serv- 
 ices of his old overseer, Mr. Barnes, and was not 
 himself able to attend to many of the details of the 
 ranch calling for prompt attention, the Don, by an- 
 other bold stroke of policy, but under the plea of 
 learning how to manage such an estate, offered to 
 assist his host. 
 
 The captain, who regarded the offer as genuine, 
 not only thankfully accepted of it, but generously 
 insisted upon the Spaniard's receiving a handsome 
 salary for his services ; and within a few weeks the 
 guest actually became the overseer of the property. 
 
 The wily Don's first move was to arouse the en- 
 mity of the peasants on the estate against the pres- 
 ent owner, but soon found that this was impossible. 
 'No employer had ever been kinder or more liberal 
 with his employees ; they knew it, and for the most 
 part were devoted to their American master. 
 
 The exception was a few lawless fellows, whose 
 own misdoing had brought them into ill-repute ;and 
 with these the Spaniard stealthily became friendly, 
 planning to use them later for his own evil purposes. 
 
 He had been overseer at the Anvil but a few
 
 A DIABOLICAL PLOT. 151 
 
 weeks when three circumstances combined to develop 
 his plan of operations. 
 
 The three circumstances were : first, a cablegram 
 from Mr. Barnes at Cape Town, Africa, announcing 
 his safety, and his return as soon as possible to the 
 island ; second, the- constantly growing possibilities 
 of a war between Spain and the United States; and 
 third, the assigning to the nearest military station 
 that of Humacao as commanding officer, the 
 Don's own cousin, a man as unscrupulous as himself. 
 
 Don Jose, as soon as he learned that his relative 
 had assumed his position in the near-by town, sought 
 an interview with him, and there in the privacy of 
 that Spanish fort was concocted as diabolical a plot 
 as was ever formed against innocent and unsuspect- 
 ing men. In brief it was as follows : 
 
 Don Jose, in order that he and his colleague might 
 have some instruments for their nefarious work as 
 soon as the time was ripe for it, was to organize, 
 secretly of course, the lawless fellows he had found 
 in the mountain region into a regular band of 
 plunderers, whose headquarters were to be some- 
 where in the recesses of the Luguillo range, and 
 who were to make themselves notorious by their 
 raids on the surrounding community. If complaint 
 was made to the military governor, he, though seem- 
 ingly zealous to hunt them down, was never to find 
 them. 
 
 On the arrival of Mr. Barnes, the Don was to 
 resign promptly his position of overseer, on the laud- 
 able plea that, as he was now no longer needed at 
 the Anvil, he should look about the island for some 
 plantation he could purchase for himself. His real 
 withdrawal, however, was to be simply to the bandit 
 rendezvous in the mountains, where he could keep a 
 constant watch over the movements of Captain 
 Larkin and his agent. 
 
 A third step in the plan was that, as soon as the
 
 152 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 declaration of hostilities between the nations seemed 
 imminent, the Don should suddenly appear at the 
 Anvil, and make a bold and generous offer for the 
 ranch on the double pretext, that he had found no 
 plantation he liked so well, and thought also tha*b 
 its present owner, owing to the prospect of a war, 
 would prefer to sell out, and return to his own 
 country. 
 
 While the fourth and last step was, whether the 
 offer to purchase the ranch was accepted or not, 
 :hat the Americans should be quietly put out of the 
 way, and, with their disappearance, the consumma- 
 tion of the purchase publicly announced. 
 
 Of course the murderous work was to be done by 
 the band of robbers, and when they had served their 
 purpose, they were to be hunted down and killed by 
 the Spanish soldiers at the order of their commander, 
 who now apparently awoke to his real duty as the 
 military governor and protector of the district. So 
 every trace of the crime was to be swept out of the 
 way, and the two schemers were to divide between 
 themselves the vast and valuable estate. 
 
 The first and second steps of this scheme were 
 successfully carried out. Early in April the con- 
 dition of things at Madrid seomed to warrant the 
 third step, and Don Jose, who had not been seen in 
 that locality for several months, now appeared, and 
 offered Captain Larkin a generous sum for the Anvil 
 property. This proposition was, as he really ex- 
 pected it would be, declined ; but it did not prevent 
 his creating among the gefes of the estate the im- 
 pression that the plantation might be sold in case 
 war was actually declared ; and this was really all 
 the plotter desired to accomplish by his offer. 
 
 Things were now ripe for the final move, and 
 everything worked apparently to the advantage of 
 the schemers. 
 
 War was declared the last of the month ; the
 
 A DIABOLICAL PLOT. 153 
 
 American consuls left their posts ; many citizens of 
 the States, doing business in the island, thought it 
 wiser to sail immediately for home ; the enmity be- 
 tween the Spanish element in the isle and the" few 
 Americans that remained was fanned to a white 
 heat ; the crime contemplated could now be easily 
 carried out, and every trace of it lost. 
 
 Late on the evening of May 1st, the wily Spaniard 
 again appeared at the Anvil "ranch. To the district 
 chiefs, as he rode through the plantation, he an- 
 nounced that Captain Larkin had at last decided to 
 dispose 01 the property, and on the morrow would 
 leave for San Juan to complete the details of the sale. 
 
 In the mansion house he told quite another story. 
 It was that Mr. Swallow, over the range, had con- 
 sented to sell his plantation, and desired the captain 
 and his overseer to come over there on the fol- 
 lowing day to inventory the property. 
 
 The unsuspecting gentlemen, though surprised at 
 this sudden freak on the part of their neighbor, 
 readily consented to render him the service asked, 
 and the next morning rode away in the company of 
 the Don. 
 
 It certainly seemed a mutual misfortune when the 
 trio, while in the heart of the mountains, were sud- 
 denly surrounded by the bandit horde, and all car- 
 ried off as captives ; nevertheless four days later 
 Don Jose returned to the ranch, called together the 
 gefes, and exhibiting his papers (which, however, 
 never left his own land), proclaimed himself the new 
 owner of the magnificent property. 
 
 But there was to be a factor in the way of the 
 completion of the scheme that he had not accounted 
 for. Within an hour of his own coming, there 
 arrived a messenger from San Juan, bringing a de- 
 spatch for the captain from his bankers. 
 
 Receiving the man alone, the Spaniard explained 
 that Captain Larkin and his agent had both been
 
 154 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 called to Humacao, leaving him in charge of the 
 ranch ; and then he opened the missive. It was the 
 cablegram from Bert announcing his rescue and 
 speedy arrival at the island. 
 
 Forced to act quickly, the plotter decided that it 
 was for his interest that the messenger should not 
 return to his home ; and he therefore detained the 
 fellow long enough the following day to enable him 
 to communicate with his robber band. Then the 
 man was permitted to depart, but never reached 
 San Juan ! 
 
 From that hour, too, the road between the capital 
 city and the mountains was kept under a constant 
 surveillance by the brigands, at the instigation of 
 their leader ; and the attack on the party of Mr. 
 Swallow was in reality an attempt to kill the boy 
 who accompanied him. 
 
 The safe arrival of the lad at the Anvil on the 
 next evening was due to the sagacity of Mr. 
 Swallow, who had directed the guide to take the 
 boy directly over the mountain range, instead of by 
 the more circuitous but usual way of travel between 
 the plantations. So he escaped the men who were 
 watching for him. 
 
 But even this possibility had been provided for, 
 and, as we have already seen, Bert fell into the trap 
 set for him, and was soon a prisoner, at the mercy 
 of a man who would stop at nothing in order to 
 accomplish his purpose.
 
 WHAT BERT OVERHEARD. 155 
 
 CHAPTEK XXI. 
 
 WHAT BEKT OVEKHEAKD. 
 
 HAVING become satisfied that he was really a 
 prisoner, Bert decided to accept the fact as phil- 
 osophically as possible. 
 
 " If I cannot get out, no one shall get in without 
 my knowledge," he decided, then he looked about 
 the chamber for something to barricade the door. 
 
 In one corner of the room was a huge chest, made 
 of mahogany wood, and so heavy he could scarcely 
 lift one end of it. It had no lock, and as he ap- 
 proached it a curiosity seized the lad to see what 
 was within it. Kaising the lid, therefore, he ex- 
 amined the contents. 
 
 There were clothing, books, papers, and a cork- 
 life-jacket, so like the one in his own luggage the 
 boy knew at once whose property he was beholding. 
 It belonged to the old sailor, and this was doubtless 
 the room he occupied when at the ranch. 
 
 This discovery gave Bert a home feeling he had 
 not before possessed, and did more than comfort his 
 heart. 
 
 " I am where I have a right to be," he thought. 
 "This house is father's, if he is still living; if not, 
 it is mine. This estate is mine ; and no man or men 
 shall deprive me of what is lawfully mine," and 
 with the thought he nerved himself to meet and 
 overcome whatever he might be called to encounter. 
 
 His examination finished, he drew the chest 
 slowly and carefully along until it was against the
 
 156 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 door. But not yet satisfied \vith his barricade he 
 pushed the heavy bedstead over against the chest, so 
 that the head-board completely covered the entrance, 
 and then smiled complacently. Iso one could enter 
 there without his knowing of it in time to defend 
 himself. 
 
 Then he turned his attention to the windows. 
 There were no sashes or glass a light screen-work 
 taking the place of those furnishings so indispensable 
 in a colder climate ; while outside the screens were 
 the shutters of heavy plank, and, though now 
 fastened without, they were originally arranged so 
 as to be secured firmly from within. The fasten- 
 ings were, moreover, still in their place, and going, 
 therefore, to each window in turn there were four 
 of them Bert bolted them down in so solid a 
 manner they could not be opened except with a 
 force and noise " sufficient," as he facetiously termed 
 it, " to awaken the dead." 
 
 One other operation completed his arrangements 
 for the night. Placing a small stand beside the bed, 
 he laid his revolver upon it within reach of his hand, 
 and then, without undressing, threw himself upon 
 the couch, and slept soundly. 
 
 The night passed without any disturbance, and 
 the sun was peeping through the cracks of the 
 closed shutters when he awoke. Arising he first 
 performed his morning ablutions, and then removed 
 his barricade from the door. 
 
 As he finished this task there was the tramp of a 
 horse's feet in front of the house, and he went over 
 to the window nearest the sound and tried to look 
 out. By pressing the shutter slightly he obtained 
 an opening that enabled him to see the horse, which 
 his guide of the day before had ridden, brought 
 around to the door. A moment later the guide 
 himself appeared from the rear of the building, and 
 sprang into the saddle.
 
 WHAT BERT OVERHEARD. 157 
 
 He did not, however, immediately ride away, but 
 seemed to be Avaiting for something or some one. 
 
 Five minutes passed ; then the Spaniard came out 
 of the house and handed the waiting man a letter, 
 saying, as he did so : 
 
 " I am in charge here now, and that letter will 
 explain everything to your master. It also tells him 
 I will now look out for the boy, and send him to his 
 father," and with a flourish of his hand he indicated 
 that the fellow was to depart. The next moment 
 both horse and rider had passed out from the watch- 
 ing lad's limited vision. 
 
 It was, perhaps, a half -hour later when there 
 were steps in the upper hallway, followed by a 
 knock at the door ; then the voice of the Don him- 
 self said : 
 
 " Breakfast, Senor Larkin." 
 
 " Yes, sir," Bert replied quickly dropping his 
 pistol into his jacket pocket, and keeping one hand 
 on its stock, alert for whatever might now trans- 
 pire. 
 
 The door was immediately unlocked and thrown 
 wide open, and in the opening stood the Spaniard, 
 smiling and bowing politely ; but back of him stood 
 two powerful men, with drawn machetes in their 
 right hands, and cocked pistols in their left, ready 
 for instant use. The outlook for a defense under 
 the circumstances was, certainly, not very reassuring. 
 
 " Pistol ! " demanded the Spaniard, pointing to 
 the pocket in which the lad- still kept his right hand. 
 
 Bert understood what he meant ; the absence of 
 the revolver from the belt, which had been taken 
 from the chamber the night before, was discovered, 
 and the Don wanted it. 
 
 Much as the boy hated to comply with the re- 
 quest he saw no way to get out from it, and with 
 evident reluctance passed the weapon over. 
 
 The man received it with thanks, and then uttered
 
 158 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 the one word : " Come ! " at the same time beckon- 
 ing his prisoner to follow him. 
 
 Bert obeyed, and the two guards stepped quickly 
 in behind them. t 
 
 Their journey was simply to the dining-room, 
 where an excellent breakfast was served, the host 
 all attention to the needs of his guest, and but for 
 the presence of the armed men, the lad would have 
 thought his imprisonment a dream. 
 
 When the meal was over the Don indicated by 
 pointing to the hands of his watch that the boy 
 could have a half-hour in the open air attended by 
 the sentinels, and then must return to his room. 
 
 Thankful for the respite from the close air of the 
 chamber the lad walked up and down in front of 
 the mansion until his alloted time had passed, and 
 then went quietly back up-stairs. And it may as 
 well be said here as elsewhere that so long as Bert 
 remained at the ranch this order of things was re- 
 peated at each meal-time unless Don Jose was away. 
 Then his food was served him in his cell, as he soon 
 called .the place of his confinement, and alwaysAvith 
 two armed men in attendance. He had reason to 
 believe also that the house was never left without a 
 strong guard. 
 
 Day after day passed. The prisoner could often 
 hear the Spaniard in the office beneath him, and 
 occasionally caught the murmur of voices as he 
 talked with his men or his visitors. Anxious to 
 know what was going on, and especially to hear 
 what was being said, the boy soon devised a way to 
 gratify both desires. 
 
 He "remembered that the ceiling of the office was 
 of boards, and so was the floor of his room. Why 
 not then cut a hole through, large on the upper and 
 small on the under side, so as to give him a view of, 
 and enable him to hear what was said in, the office? 
 The clasp-knife, which had been in his constant
 
 WHAT BERT OVERHEARD. 150 
 
 possession since his shipwreck, was still in his 
 pocket, and the task with so fine a blade could not 
 be impossible. 
 
 The more he thought of the idea, the more eager 
 he became to carry it out ; and on the second day 
 of his imprisonment the work was begun. 
 
 Cutting away only at such times as he knew the 
 office had no occupant, and carefully concealing the 
 chips in the bottom of the great chest, and cover- 
 ing the hole itself with a large rug that Avas in the 
 room, he in three days had completed his task. 
 
 The opening in the floor of his room was large 
 enough to allow him to put his head through it. and 
 he had removed the piece of boarding in such a way 
 that it could be replaced when the hole was not in 
 use. 
 
 The opening in the cedar ceiling was an inch in 
 diameter at its beginning, but scarcely larger than a 
 pin head at its termination that it might not be 
 detected from below. Yet by placing an eye at the 
 aperture a fair view of the office could be obtained ; 
 and by placing the ear there all conversation car- 
 ried on below could be distinctly heard. 
 
 Several days passed before Bert obtained any in- 
 formation through the hole that was of any special 
 value to him ; but on the evening of his tenth day 
 at the ranch he heard a conversation through the 
 aperture that more than repaid him for all the labor 
 he had performed. 
 
 Just at night there came to his ears the sound of 
 many horsesr feet. Jumping from the bed on which 
 he at that time was lying, he hurried to the window, 
 and looked out through the widest crack of its 
 shutter. All he could see was armed men in uniform 
 dismounting at the door, but from what he later 
 heard he ascertained that a Spanish cavalcade, un- 
 der command of a colonel, had arrived from Huma- 
 cao. The men must have bivouacked under the
 
 160 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 surrounding palms, but the officer was domiciled 
 with Don Jose as his guest ; and after supper they 
 were closeted in the office for a long, and, to the 
 listening lad, a most important conversation. Some 
 of which \ve will record here : > 
 
 " You were a long time coming, Carlos," the Don 
 began, when he and his visitor had lighted their 
 cigarettes. 
 
 " I came as soon as 1 could," answered the other, 
 curtly. " I was in San Juan when your messenger 
 arrived at the fort was called there and repri- 
 manded, too, for not suppressing your cursed bandits. 
 The trouble grew out of your attacking that English- 
 man over the mountain. He complained to his con- 
 sul, and the consul went before the Captain-General 
 demanding reparation. I've got to squelch the 
 rascals soon, or lose my command. That is why I 
 have fifty in on with me ; and yet you tell me I 
 can't hunt them down now ? " 
 
 " No," replied his host, gloomily ; " and all be- 
 cause Larkin hasn't and won't sign those papers. 
 Neither one of us can imitate his handwriting well 
 enough to answer our purpose, and we must force 
 him to write his name, or all our work is lost." 
 
 " But you told him he should, die, if he didn't 
 give us his signature ? " 
 
 " Yes, but he quietly retorted, that in all prob- 
 ability he should die anyway, and he preferred to die 
 without making the property over to us." 
 
 " Plucky, isn't he? " remarked the colonel, with 
 something like admiration in his tones. " I wonder 
 if all those Americans are such brave fellows ! I 
 have told you how their Admiral smashed our fleet 
 at Manila, without losing a man ; and they are now 
 after Cervera's flotilla. Should they serve him the 
 same way what can our nation do ? Cuba, this 
 island, all our colonies will become theirs. I tell 
 you we are in no condition to fight them ; as sure
 
 WHAT BERT OVERHEARD. 
 
 as they send an army here they'll win. The natives 
 are ready to receive them with open arms now." 
 
 " I know it," Don Jose responded ; " and that is 
 why I am insisting on a straight-deed of this prop- 
 erty from the captain. Nothing else will stand 
 the test under American rule, and what you and I 
 want to do is to be prepared even for that emer- 
 gency. We don't want the ranch taken from us and 
 turned over to the American heirs, just as we have 
 it within our grasp." 
 
 " And ourselves strung up for a pair of precious 
 rascals." chimed in the officer, with a laugh. " But, 
 Jose, what is this new factor in our little game, you 
 alluded to it in your message ? " ' 
 
 " The captain's son has turned up," the host re- 
 plied, telling the story of Bert's coming, and then 
 adding : 
 
 " He's shut up now in the room above us. What 
 shall we do with him ? " 
 
 " Can't he hear what we are saying ? " asked the 
 soldier, apprehensively. 
 
 "It would make no difference if he did," laughed 
 the other ; " he doesn't know a word of Spanish. 
 I've had a hard time talking with him, though you 
 know I picked up some English while with the 
 captain." 
 
 His companion assented, and then there was a 
 silence for some time long enough for the listening 
 boy to raise his head from its uncomfortable posi- 
 tion and rub the back of his strained neck. As he 
 did so, a great joy was welling up in his heart, and 
 he murmured softly : " Father is alive ! All I've 
 got to do is to find him." 
 
 The conversation was now resumed, and the lad 
 placed his other ear to the aperture, thus relieving 
 himself in a measure from his former cramped 
 position. 
 
 " I have it," the colonel was saying ; " it is certain 
 u
 
 162 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 that Ave have got to reach the captain in some other 
 way than through himself why not then through 
 this boy ? Does his father know he is alive and 
 here? "' 
 
 "No," admitted his comrade. 
 
 " "Well, we can make two hits at one stroke," 
 went on the officer. " You can help me out of a 
 bad scrape, and force the captain to do our bidding." 
 
 " Explain yourself," said the other. 
 
 " I'll take the boy down to Humacao as one of 
 the brigands whom I have captured ; we'll try him, 
 condemn him, and report him to headquarters. 
 That will restore me to favor there, and keep them 
 quiet for at least a month longer, especially if your 
 band makes no more raids." 
 
 " Then we'll have the lad write a note to his 
 father establishing his identity, and send it along 
 with a copy of the official death-warrant to the 
 captain, so he can see what a fix his son is in. 
 Finally, we will offer to free the lad, the captain, 
 and Barnes, and give them a safe departure, from, 
 the island for the captain's signature. When he 
 knows his child's life is at stake, he'll give in surely." 
 
 " But will you allow them to go ? " questioned 
 Don Jose, incredulously. 
 
 " Of course not," retorted the colonel, coolh 7 ; 
 " what is one more lie to the wickedness you and I 
 have already committed ? We'll snap off the heads 
 of the three Americans as if they were centipedes ; 
 wipe out the bandits by a single stroke, and enjoy 
 the fruits of our labor whether the home govern- 
 ment wins or loses." 
 
 " Excellent ! " cried his fellow-plotter, admir- 
 ingly. " But you may as well have several prison- 
 ers as one. It will all aid in keeping the authorities 
 at San Juan quiet. I have two men in custody- 
 messengers from the captain's bankers that can be 
 spared as well as not. I'll send up to the rendezvous
 
 WHAT BERT OVERHEAED. 
 
 tomorrow for them, and have four of the band 
 escort them down. You can place your men so as to 
 capture all six, and run them into Humacao with 
 the boy. Seven of the gang at one haul ought cer- 
 tainly to satisfy the Captain-General himself that 
 3 r ou are doing your best to disperse the marauders ; 
 then, if there are no further raids for some weeks 
 and I will take care there are none we can, with- 
 out danger of interference, perfect our scheme." 
 
 " Do you know, Cousin Jose, I really believe, take 
 us together, there never were such a pair of villains 
 in this island before," said the officer, rolling up a 
 fresh cigarette. 
 
 The rest of their conversation for the evening 
 was devoted to the details of the plan already 
 formed. Bert listened long enough to ascertain that 
 his transfer to the fortress at Humacao would not 
 take place under two days, in order to allow the 
 soldiers ample time to secure the other prisoners ; and 
 to know that, after his arrival at the city, his trial, 
 alontr with the other men, would be allowed to pro- 
 ceed in the regular way the plotters deeming it safer 
 to follow this course. He then left the aperture, 
 and, throwing himself on the bed, thought over the 
 situation. 
 
 There was little chance of escaping from such a 
 body of soldiers. But would he not in the court 
 have an opportunity to establish his innocency? 
 Kay, more could he not tell there a story, which, 
 sustained by such witnesses as Mr. Marines, Mr. Eal- 
 ston, and Mr. Swallow, would not only free himself, 
 but lead also to the deliverance of his father and 
 Mr. Barnes? 
 
 The lad's idea of a court was, of course, based 
 upon what little he knew of such affairs in his own 
 land, and, believing that he would have an oppor- 
 tunity to expose the schemers in the coming trial, 
 he was not only willing but eager to meet it,
 
 16-J. A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 But he miscalculated Spanish justice, or rather 
 injustice ; the trial was a farce the mere arraign- 
 ment of the prisoners in a bunch before Colonel 
 Luzares himself, as the military governor of the dis- 
 trict, and his condemnation of them without a hear- 
 ing ; then the forwarding of this decision to the 
 authorities at the capital, who, anxious to rid them- 
 selves of a band of men that were causing them a 
 great deal of trouble, promptly returned the find- 
 ings of the court properly indorsed so thirty days 
 later Bert found himself tried, condemned, and sen- 
 tenced to be shot on July 25th, together with the men 
 who had been brought into the city with him, and 
 of whom two were as innocent of crime as himself. 
 
 Up to this time the boy had occupied a cell in 
 common with his fellow-prisoners, but was now 
 transferred to a smaller apartment in the eastern 
 end of the fortification, and near, as it soon proved, 
 the colonel's own quarters. 
 
 On the dav following the transfer the commander, 
 accompanied by an interpreter (for he still supposed 
 the lad did not understand Spanish"), visited his 
 younsr prisoner. Blandly informing the boy that 
 his life was now in his hands, he directed him to 
 write a note to his father, acquainting him of the 
 unfortunate situation, and requesting him to do all 
 he could to save him. 
 
 " What good will it do me ? " asked Bert, directly 
 in Spanish. 
 
 The officer stared at the youth a moment as 
 though he doubted his identity, and then said : 
 
 " It will save your life, and that of your father." 
 
 " But I heard you tell Don Jose," retorted the 
 lad coolly, and perhaps imprudently, "that after 
 father had signed that deed all three Americans were 
 to be murdered ; and knowing what I do from your 
 inhuman trial of innocent men, I can fully believe it." 
 
 The fury of the man was that of a wild beast.
 
 WHAT BERT OVERHEARD. 165 
 
 Grasping his prisoner by the shoulder, he hurled 
 him back against the wall with a force that nearly 
 knocked the breath out of him. 
 
 " What else do you know, you young rascal 1 
 You speak Spanish as well as I do, and evidently 
 have overheard altogether too much for your own 
 good." 
 
 "I know enough of the diabolical s.cheme you and 
 Don Jose are trying to carry out to hang you 
 both," responded the lad without flinching, and 
 glancing at the interpreter, who stood stolidly at 
 the entrance of the cell. 
 
 The colonel saw the glance, and recognizing for 
 the first time that there was a witness to the inter- 
 view, he laughed, saying carelessly : " You dreamed 
 it, boy." Then to the man he added sternly : 
 
 " It seems your services are not needed here ; you 
 may go, and mark you, say nothing of what you 
 have heard here, if you value your life." 
 
 The fellow, apparently cowered by the stern com- 
 mand, slunk out of the door and down the corridor, 
 leaving the officer and prisoner alone. 
 
 " I shall be glad to write my father, Colonel 
 Luzares," Bert now said with dignity ; " but I 
 must write what I please, and then leave him to de- 
 cide for himself about signing your papers." 
 
 Under the existing circumstances this was a 
 heroic speech, but the heroism displayed won the day. 
 
 " Write whatever you desire," the officer replied, 
 with a shrug of his 'shoulders. "Little can I tell 
 what it is, and Don Jose would not make it out 
 much better. It may be just as well, too, for your 
 father to know the whole matter." 
 
 " Yery well ; send me the paper, and I will write 
 at once," the boy promised. 
 
 The colonel, bowing politely, withdrew, and ten 
 minutes thereafter an orderly, about Bert's own age 
 size, came to the door bringing pens, ink and
 
 166 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 paper. Thanking him for the articles, the lad be- 
 gan the letter. 
 
 It was a long one, beginning with the sinking of 
 the Alhambra, and telling of his experiences to the 
 moment of his writing, concluding : 
 
 " You already know, father, what will be de- 
 manded of you, and I want you to act as seems to 
 you wisest in the light of what I have told you. Of 
 Don Jose I have no hopes. He is a man who would 
 put even Colonel Luzares out of the way to accom- 
 plish his purpose. But in the colonel I have more 
 confidence, and wish you might communicate with, 
 him direct, though that may be impossible. 
 
 " And now, should we never see each other in 
 this world, and no other communication allowed 
 between us, I want to tell you that, with death be- 
 fore us, I am glad I came here to share it with you. 
 Love to yourself and Mr. Barnes. Good-by ! 
 
 " Your own boy, 
 
 " BERT." 
 
 The officer came himself for the manuscript, and 
 made no comment at its length when it was de- 
 livered to him. 
 
 " I shall send it to your father to-day," he simply 
 remarked as he left the cell, " and he will be 
 allowed several days to come to a decision. But in 
 about a week we should know the issue." 
 
 He may not have intended to comfort the lad, or 
 awaken any hope in his heart ; but somehow he did. 
 
 " A week ! " the boy repeated to himself when 
 alone ; " a whole week ! Much may happen in that 
 time to prevent those rascals from carrying out 
 their purpose ! " 
 
 He was right ; but he little knew in what way 
 the deliverance was to come, or the thrilling ex- 
 periences he was to meet with before it was fully 
 accomplished,
 
 A BOLD MOVE. 167 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 A BOLD MOVE. 
 
 FELIPE PEREGRINO, the man whom Colonel Luzares 
 brought into Bert Larkin's cell to act as interpreter, 
 was an old sailor who for several years had lived at 
 Humacao, supporting himself and family by serving 
 in the courts and among shipmasters and merchants 
 as an oral translator. There was scarcely a country 
 he had not been in, and remained long enough to 
 learn its vernacular at least enough of it to make 
 himself intelligible in that tongue. 
 
 " Find old Felipe, and he'll talk with the stranger, 
 unless he's from the moon," was a current saying 
 in the commercial circles of the island city where 
 he dwelt. 
 
 But the old man was not only a linguist ; he was 
 keen and shrewd, faithful to his friends, bitter 
 towards his enemies, and in common with all the 
 native islanders had little love for the Spaniards. 
 
 "When, therefore, he, while in the cell, seemed to 
 be stolidly indifferent to the conversation between 
 the angry officer and his young prisoner, he was 
 really listening intently to every word ; and though 
 he departed apparently cowering under the stern 
 command of the colonel, that, too, was only pretense. 
 
 Once in the corridor, his attitude' instantly 
 changed ; he stood erect, his eyes flashed with a 
 sudden light, and he acted like a man who had 
 resolved upon a definite and resolute purpose. 
 Glancing down the passage, he saw the guard was
 
 168 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 at the extreme end of his beat, and so, unnoticed, 
 stepped quickly back near the cell door, where he 
 heard all that passed between the commander and 
 the imprisoned lad. But the officer found him a 
 fe\v minutes later standing meekly at the door o'f 
 his quarters, waiting for the usual fee he received 
 for his services. 
 
 The colonel, however, took an entirely different 
 view of the matter. 
 
 "You have rendered no service," he declared; 
 " leave the fort before I have the soldiers throw you 
 out." 
 
 He was promptly obeyed, but there was a menace 
 in every step the departing man took, and when be- 
 yond the limits of the fortress, he turned and looked 
 back at the structure as though measuring every 
 angle and nook and corner. Finally he went on 
 muttering : 
 
 " It is now your day, Colonel Luzares, but mine 
 is at hand. Old Felipe knows a thing or two you 
 little dream of." 
 
 On the following morning the old interpreter was 
 not to be found in his usual haunts, but lay beneath 
 a huge gum tree a mile out of the city, and in a 
 position which gave him a full view of the road 
 leading towards the Luguillo Mountains. 
 
 One hour, two hours passed, and though he 
 smoked his cigarettes in the indolent, unhurried 
 manner of the true islander, he was really alert, and 
 not a single traveler left the city or came along the 
 road without his closest scrutin}'-. 
 
 By and by his patience was rewarded, and a horse- 
 man, wearing the uniform of the Spanish soldier, 
 came out of the town, and rode rapidly up the 
 highway towards him. It was evidently the person 
 the interpreter was looking for ; springing to his feet 
 he sauntered down the road so as to intercept him. 
 
 As they met, he saluted the rider, and exclaimed ;
 
 A BOLD MOVE. 169 
 
 " Good morning, Benito, you are out early to-day, 
 and must have a long journey before you." 
 
 " Yes, Uncle Felipe," the orderly returned ; " the 
 colonel has sent me up to the Anvil with a message." 
 
 " That is Captain Larkin's place, isn't it ? " he 
 asked, innocently. 
 
 " It was, but Don Jose Sardinas has bought it, 
 and it is to him I carry the letter." 
 
 " How long since ? " the interpreter questioned in 
 well-feigned surprise. 
 
 " Two months or more," responded the horseman ; 
 " at least the Don was in possession when we made 
 the raid on the bandits." 
 
 " That young American I was called to see yes- 
 terday is a queer one," the old man went on con- 
 fidentially. " The colonel supposed he couldn't talk 
 Spanish, and he knew it as well as you or I. Do 
 you think of his name ? " 
 
 No one would have thought the inquirer took the 
 slightest interest in the answer, and yet he waited 
 eagerly, almost impatiently, for it. 
 
 "I heard the roll called at the trial," the orderly 
 answered, "and it was put down as Bertanni 
 Larkinos. What would that be in English ? " 
 
 " Bert Larkin," replied the interpreter promptly. 
 Then he ventured to become even more confidential 
 with his companion. " I think, Benito, he is Cap- 
 tain Larkin's son, and that there is some conspiracy 
 against Him and his father. The lad accused the 
 colonel of it yesterday." 
 
 The orderly looked about him. He and Felipe 
 were alone. Lowering his voice he said : 
 
 " I don't know but you are right, uncle ; there is 
 something strange about this matter. The young 
 American wasn't captured by the troops, but was 
 already a prisoner in Don Jose's house. We all 
 thought the Don had caught him a few days before, 
 and then turned him over to the colonel. Of course
 
 170 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 it might have been so ; but I like the lad, he's a 
 brave fellow not a complaint out of him and I 
 can't bear to see him die." 
 
 " You have a kind heart, Benito, like your mother 
 and aunt, my wife. Neither can bear to see even a 
 chicken die. But, lad, keep your eyes open, and on 
 your return report to me. I o\ve too much to 
 Captain Larkin to see him or his son in trouble and 
 not help. 
 
 " Then, Benito, our island will soon be in the 
 hands of the Americans. You know how Cervera's 
 fleet was sunk as so many cockle shells but a few 
 days ago. Santiago de Cuba is reported as fallen. 
 An army of invasion will soon be here, and the 
 people are ready to receive them with open arms. 
 Though your father was a Spaniard, lad, your 
 mother is an islander; you were born here, and 
 your true place is to stand with the Americans." 
 
 The orderly's cheeks flushed. " I cannot be dis- 
 honorable, Uncle Felipe," he said ; " you have your- 
 self taught me to be true to duty ; but if there is 
 conspiracy and the colonel and Don Jose are 
 villains that is different. You can count on me. 
 But I must be on my way. Buenos dias, senor " 
 and he galloped off up the road. 
 
 "I can depend on him," the old man muttered, 
 looking after the disappearing horseman ; " now 
 for the other side of this affair. The young prisoner 
 is surely Captain Larkin's son his name proves it 
 and there is some deviltry to pay between the 
 colonel and that Don Jose. But I'll ferret it out as 
 sure as I am Felipe Peregrine. But how ? that's 
 the question," and he went back towards the city in 
 deep thought. 
 
 Five days and five nights passed. No one came 
 near Bert except his guards, and they only when in 
 the regular discharge of their duties. Yet he was 
 in no sense despondent.
 
 A BOLD MOVE. 
 
 It may be he was confident that the father he had 
 never seen would, now that he knew all about the 
 plot, find some way to outwit the perpetrators. 
 Possibly his faith went higher and rested in Him 
 who is a shield and a refuge to the innocent and 
 guiltless. Whatever the cause, he was serene and 
 hopeful. 
 
 On the fifth night he was awakened by what 
 seemed to be sounds of digging near one corner of 
 his cell. So distinct and regular was the noise he 
 jumped from his rude bed, went over to that part 
 of the room, and, putting his head close to the 
 stone floor, listened intently. There was doubt as to 
 the fact, but in the attitude he now was, the sounds 
 seemed farther away, and beyond the wall of his 
 apartment. Could it be some prisoner was tunnel- 
 ing his way out of the fort ? 
 
 The lad had read of such things, and with a de- 
 termination that, as soon as it was light, he would 
 examine his own cell with a view to such an at- 
 tempt, he went back to his pallet of straw. 
 
 When he again awoke the noise had ceased ; but 
 he did not forget his resolve, and, after a scanty 
 breakfast, began his investigations. 
 
 The room was about ten by twelve feet in size. 
 The north side opened upon the corridor ; the east 
 was a part of the outer wall of the fort, and high up 
 from the floor was the narrow opening through 
 which came the fresh air that made the cell endur- 
 able ; the south and west sides were, as the boy then 
 believed, the partitions between his own and other 
 cells. All these walls were of solid stone, tightly 
 cemented together, and there seemed no probability 
 of working a passage through any of them. 
 
 He, therefore, turned his attention to the floor ; 
 this, as previously intimated, was formed from stone 
 flagging or slabs, about three feet long and eighteen 
 inches wide. Of their thickness he could not judge
 
 172 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 until he had worked out the cement between two 
 of them ; and this he decided should be his first 
 task. 
 
 It was over in the southwest corner of the cell 
 that he had heard the sound of digging the previous 
 night, and here he made a close examination of the 
 slab. It could not be removed as the partition wall 
 rested upon it in part ; and this was true of the 
 whole row of flagging down the west side of the 
 room. 
 
 Satisfied he could do nothing with that course of 
 slabs, Bert examined the second row, two feet and 
 a half out from the partition. The first stone was 
 firmly secured by the wall of the south side ; but 
 the second stone, sixteen inches from the south wall, 
 and two feet six inches from the west wall, was 
 clear of all obstruction, and when the cement was 
 once dug out ought to be easily removed. He 
 marked it, therefore, as the place for his attack. 
 
 Impatiently he waited for the night, and when all 
 chance of detection from the guard was obviated by 
 the darkness, he commenced his work. 
 
 The only thing left to him of all his possessions 
 was his clasp-knife, and, doubtless, this would have 
 been taken from him but for its use in cutting up 
 his prison rations. It now became the tool by which 
 he was to loosen the slab of stone. 
 
 Slowly he toiled away at about the center of the 
 narrow crevice, and though he found it harder labor 
 than cutting through cedar boards, he at length 
 cleared an opening the thickness of his knife blade, 
 and could run the slender steel back and forth with- 
 out touching any obstacle. As near as he could es- 
 timate the slab was about two inches thick. 
 
 An opening once formed he progressed more 
 rapidly, and at the end of an hour had the west edge 
 of the flagging all clear. Anxious to know how 
 deep the space below the floor was, he now unrav-
 
 A BOLD MOVE. 
 
 eled a part of one of his stockings, and tying a bit 
 of mortar to one end of the yarn, lowered it through 
 the crevice. It did not go twelve inches before it 
 struck what appeared to be soft dirt. 
 
 " I shall have to dig my way out, when I have 
 raised the stone," he muttered, " and that may be a 
 matter of days. Never mind, it gives me something 
 to do, and is better than this tiresome inactivity." 
 
 He now began work on the upper edge of the 
 stone, and in another hour had dug out the mortar. 
 Stopping to rest his aching arms^ he caught the same 
 sound of digging he had heard the night before. 
 Placing his ear to the lower edge of the slab he 
 listened for some minutes, and then was satisfied of 
 two things : Some one was cautiously working below 
 him with both pick and shovel and was steadily 
 coming his way. As this direction was towards the 
 east or outer wall of the fort his natural conclusion 
 was that some prisoner had managed to secure the 
 necessary tools and was making his way under the 
 floor to the outer world. 
 
 " I have but to loosen this stone," the lad thought, 
 " and join the man in his undertaking, and we shall 
 both be free." 
 
 Animated by this idea he started down one of the 
 long sides of the slab, removing the cement as rapidly 
 as possible. As soon as he worked his knife through 
 the mortar, he ran the blade down to the beam or 
 pillar on which the stone rested. He had been right 
 in his estimation. The flagging was barely two 
 inches through, and with the help of the man below, 
 if lie could only attract his attention, could easily 
 be lifted out of its place. 
 
 Before the side of the stone was cleared, however, 
 a glimmer of a light came up through the crevice at 
 the west edge of the slab. This surprised the lad 
 more than the fact that the worker had a shovel and 
 pick. It told of a thoroughness of preparation which
 
 174 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 hardly seemed possible to any prisoner. "Who could 
 the laborer be? And what was his object? 
 
 As the puzzled boy waited, tn'ing to answer the 
 questions his brain had propounded, there came a 
 light tap on the slab just below him, as though some 
 one was testing its firmness. Taking his knife by 
 the blade Bert lightly tapped the stone at the same 
 spot where it hail been struck from below, and in- 
 stantly the sound of digging ceased. 
 
 The lad now tapped softly three times on the 
 stone, and cautiously it was answered from below. 
 Putting his mouth to the nearest crevice Bert whis- 
 pered : " Hello ! " As distinctly came the same 
 word : " Hello," and then the digging was resumed. 
 But of one thing the prisoner was entirely satisfied : 
 the laborer was his friend. 
 
 He, therefore, resumed his own work, and more 
 than an hour passed before either one of the toilers 
 paused for communication. In fact, though the light 
 constantly grew brighter and the sounds nearer, 
 Bert did not stop his labor until there came a tap 
 on the stone he was trying to loosen. Then a voice 
 said in good English : 
 
 " Look out ! I'm going to raise the slab." 
 
 This was followed by a strong, steady push, and 
 almost without noise, the stone lifted. Catching 
 hold of it the lad turned it over, and let it drop 
 softly down upon the floor ; then putting his head 
 through the opening he eagerlv asked : 
 
 "Who are you!" 
 
 " Felipe, the interpreter," w T as the reply ; " and 
 you are Bert Larkin ? " 
 
 " Yes ! " the boy assented. " Can I come down 
 where you are ? " 
 
 " Not quite yet. But cover the hole with some- 
 thing so my light won't attract the attention of 
 any one in the corridor. I'll call you when all is 
 ready."
 
 A BOLD MOVE. 175 
 
 Bert drew his pallet of straw over to the spot, 
 and covered the hole with it. Then he waited. 
 
 Never had time seemed so long before. Seconds 
 seemed minutes, and minutes hours, so impatient 
 was he; and yet it was not over ten minutes before 
 the bed was cautiously lifted, and the man said : 
 
 k ' Put the bed back in its place ; brush the mortar 
 off the floor into the hole ; then fix the slab so we 
 can drop it back into its place." 
 
 When these things were done, the interpreter 
 added : 
 
 " Now come." 
 
 Silently the boy crept through the hole. The 
 excavation was large enough for him and his libera- 
 tor to stand side by side and without noise the stone 
 was allowed to drop into its place. 
 
 "Follow me," the man said, crawling into the 
 mouth of the tunnel. Bert obeyed, finding that 
 twenty feet away it emerged into a narrow passage, 
 running between high massive walls, and covered 
 over with solid masonry, perhaps ten feet above 
 their heads. 
 
 He looked questioningly at his companion. 
 
 " It is the underground route out of the fort," 
 Felipe explained in low tones, " it starts from the 
 colonel's quarters just beyond your cell, and runs 
 down to a secluded cove beyond the limits of the 
 fortress. Come on ! " 
 
 He took up his tools and dark lantern, which had 
 been removed to this point before he bade Bert 
 leave his room, and led the way down the passage. 
 They had gone about two hundred yards when they 
 came into a natural cavern, whose floor was the 
 ocean waves. Along the edge of the water they 
 went then into a narrow, winding gorge, above 
 which could be seen the sparkling stars, and at 
 length reached the little land-locked, secluded inlet 
 of which the guide had spoken.
 
 1Y6 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 Here there was a boat moored, and motioning his 
 companion to get in, the rescuer turned off his light, 
 put in his tools, and unfastened the craft. Then 
 he, too, embarked, and taking up the oars rowed 
 fearlessly across the sea towards a point where tlje 
 glimmering lights revealed the town. 
 
 Undetected and unchallenged they approached 
 a wharf, and fastening the yawl to a ring in its side, 
 the interpreter carried his oars and tools to a small 
 building near by, where he locked them up. After 
 which he led the boy through several streets stop- 
 ping finally before a small house, where they en- 
 tered. 
 
 They were met by an old lady to whom the man 
 said : 
 
 " Marie, this is the boy. I told you I should bring 
 him to-night. Have you his room and clothes 
 ready ? " 
 
 " Yes, Felipe," she answered. " Come, Mr. Lar- 
 kin." 
 
 " One Avord, sir, before I go," Bert now cried im- 
 pulsively. "Tell me why at such a risk to 'your- 
 self you have rescued me ? " 
 
 " For your father's sake," the man replied. " But 
 go bathe, and change your clothing, of which there is 
 sad need. Then Marie will have food ready for us, 
 and we'll talk as \ve eat." 
 
 He was led up-stairs to a small, barely furnished 
 room, where he found everything necessary for a 
 thorough bath, and coarse but serviceable clothing 
 that fitted him as though made for him. 
 
 His clean garments were scarcely on when he 
 was called into an adjoining room where a hearty 
 repast of cold meat, bread, and fruit was on the 
 table ; and he and his liberator ate of it, with ap- 
 petites sharpened by their toil and journey. 
 
 " My story is brief," the man said, as they began 
 to eat. " I "heard your talk with the colonel, and
 
 A BOLD MOVE. 177 
 
 knew there was a plot against your father and your- 
 self. I owe much to Captain Larkin. Twice in 
 my life as a sailor he has proved my friend. Felipe 
 Peregrine forgets no favor, and no wrong. In this 
 case it was a favor ; but to know the captain's 
 need and how I could serve him I was compelled 
 to liberate you. That part of my work is done. 
 Show me how I can serve } r our father?" The 
 lad without hesitation told of the plot he had 
 discovered, and all that he knew of his father's sit- 
 uation. 
 
 During the recital the listener broke out in re- 
 peated imprecations against the men who had dared 
 to undertake such a scheme, and when Bert had 
 finished, he exclaimed : 
 
 " We shall find the captain, and liberate him ! 
 He shall ride in triumph over his enemies ! Wait 
 until I see Benito, the young orderly again ! I may 
 learn something of him. Then we'll start for the 
 mountains." 
 
 It was already the small hours of the morning, 
 and the tired but happy boy was sent to his cham- 
 ber with the direction not to leave it unless called ; 
 in ten minutes he was fast asleep. 
 
 It was well into the following night before he saw 
 the old interpreter again. W T hen he did come, how- 
 ever, he brought two bits of news : Bert's escape 
 had, of course, been discovered, and the manner of 
 it ; but it was believed he had tunneled out without 
 help, so no suspicion rested on Felipe. Then Benito 
 the orderly was, on the following morning, going up 
 to the Anvil with a message from Don Jose to come 
 to Humacao at once for a consultation with Colonel 
 Luzares, who, under imperative orders from the 
 capital, dare not leave his post long enough for even 
 so brief a trip. 
 
 When Bert heard this latter item he proposed a 
 move so bold and daring that at first it startled the, 
 iz
 
 178 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 old interpreter ; but after a careful consideration he 
 agreed to carry it out. 
 
 It was to seize Don Jose and hold him as a hostage 
 for Captain Larkin's safety. Their preparations 
 were soon made, and when morning dawned they 
 were miles on their way towards the Anvil to carry 
 the plan into execution.
 
 AN UNSUCCESSFUL RAID. 179 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 AN UNSUCCESSFUL RAID. 
 
 IN a little ravine through which the road ran 
 from Humacao to the Anvil, and not over five miles 
 from the mansion house itself, two travelers were 
 halted. One of them was our young hero and the 
 other the old man Felipe. 
 
 It was not yet noon, and, after allowing their 
 horses to drink from the sparkling stream that 
 rippled through the dell, they led the beasts into the 
 surrounding forest until they were concealed from 
 the view of any one who might be passing, where 
 they hitched them. Then Bert threw himself down 
 under the shade of an adjacent tree, where he could 
 keep an eye on the animals, while his companion 
 returned to the highway. 
 
 A quarter of an hour after these preparations 
 another horseman came over the hill from the south 
 and descended at a sharp trot into the gorge. He 
 saw the waiting man, and with no show of surprise, 
 remarked : 
 
 "I'm here, Uncle Felipe; lead on." 
 
 The old man entered the brush, followed by the 
 trooper, and they joined Bert who greeted the new- 
 comer cordially. 
 
 A package on the saddle of one of the hitched 
 horses was now unstrapped and opened, disclosing 
 an abundant supply of food. Of this the three com- 
 rades hurriedly ate, and then, as though pre-ar- 
 ranged, Felipe and the orderly exchanged clothing ;
 
 180 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 after which the former, mounting his horse, rode off 
 alone towards the Anvil ranch. 
 
 There was nothing in his appearance or attitude 
 when, an hour later, he galloped up to the mansion 
 house that proclaimed him otherwise than what he 
 pretended to be a messenger from Colonel Carlos 
 Luzares with a letter for Don Jose Sardinas. 
 
 He was received by the latter gentleman court- 
 eously though somewhat haughtily, and shown to 
 the office, where the missive he brought was opened. 
 
 The brow of the Don darkened as he read it. 
 
 " So that boy has escaped," he cried, looking 
 savagely at the waiting orderly as though he was to 
 blame for this unfortunate circumstance. 
 
 " Yes, seiior ; but he will surely be retaken," the 
 man answered, respectfully. 
 
 " No doubt of that," the Spaniard responded, his 
 anger mollified by this thought. " But to another 
 matter ; this note says I am to come to Humacao at 
 once with you." 
 
 " Certainly, seiior, if you will furnish me with a 
 fresh horse." 
 
 " I will order dinner for you immediately, and, 
 while you eat, the horses will be brought to the 
 door," promised Don Jose. "In an hour we can be 
 on our way." 
 
 It was less than that time when they trotted 
 briskly away from the house ; and still early in the 
 afternoon when they rode into the little ravine five 
 miles to the south. 
 
 As they began the descent a lad, plainly seen by 
 them both, was sitting by the brook bathing his face 
 with the cool water ; but, as he descried the coming 
 horseman, he quickly leaped to his feet, and disap- 
 peared in the forest. 
 
 " Holy Mother ! I believe that was the escaped 
 prisoner," the Don's attendant cried. 
 
 " It was," shouted the Spaniard. " After him \ "
 
 AN UNSUCCESSFUL RAID. 181 
 
 He himself led the way, and rode fearless!^ into 
 the brush after the fleeing lad. A few rods in the 
 'woods he overhauled him, and, leaping from his 
 horse, he drew his machete, saying : 
 
 " It's no use ; I have you now, surrender ! " 
 
 He raised his weapon to strike the boy, if he 
 resisted, but quickly allowed the uplifted knife to 
 fall to his side, unused. There was wisdom in his 
 act, as Bert for it was indeed he held a cocked 
 pistol within a few feet of the man's breast, and 
 replied coolly in Spanish : 
 
 " I think not, Don Jose. In fact I know it is the 
 other way. You are my prisoner." 
 
 At the same moment a pair of strong arms were 
 thrown about the baffled Spaniard, and he was borne 
 to the ground, while a voice said lowly and suavel y : 
 
 " We are sorry, Don, to use you in this way ; but 
 it is no worse than you have served Captain Larkin." 
 
 As he spoke Felipe put one knee on his prisoner's 
 breast, and, assisted by Bert, first disarmed, and 
 then firmly bound him with cords that the lad had 
 in readiness. 
 
 " Secure his horse, while I go for mine," the old 
 interpreter now said. 
 
 He returned in a few minutes, leading his horse 
 which he had left in the road when he followed the 
 Don into the forest. Then he said in English : 
 
 " So far your little scheme, lad, has worked like 
 magic ; now we'll examine the fellow's bag. 
 
 It was taken from his horse, and opened. Within 
 was a bundle of papers which the man and boy 
 eagerly examined. 
 
 First was the deed of the ranch, still unsigned by 
 Captain Larkin, and as Bert beheld it he cried 
 exultingly : 
 
 " I'll make sure it is never signed," and tearing 
 it in pieces, he applied a match to the fragments, 
 which were soon consumed.
 
 182 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 A second paper was a carefully drawn plan of the 
 bandit rendezvous and the way to it ; on the margin 
 there was also a list of the remaining members of 
 the gang twelve in all. 
 
 " And this shows us just where father is, and 
 how to find him,'' our hero said, as he and Felipe 
 finished their examination of the manuscript. 
 
 " It surely does, lad ; we are in luck," responded 
 his comrade. 
 
 But there was a third paper a letter written to 
 Colonel Luzares in Spanish, but which Felipe easily 
 read. It announced that Captain Larkin had con- 
 sented to sign the deed on condition that he be al- 
 lowed to look upon and converse with the son he 
 had never yet seen. 
 
 " lie says," the cruel note went on, " that he is 
 willing to give every dollar he has for this privilege, 
 but must see the boy before he signs his name. So 
 send the lad to me, and I will take him to his father. 
 Then you, following the directions I enclose, can 
 sweep down on the rendezvous with your squad and 
 wipe out the gang and their prisoners together." 
 
 " There, that will surely convince Mr. Swallow 
 of Don Jose's guilt," Bert said on reading it ; 
 " come, Felipe, the sooner we start for his planta- 
 tion the better." 
 
 " Yes," assented his companion, " but wait until 
 I get your horse and send Benito away." 
 
 He disappeared in the woods, and a few minutes 
 later the sound of a horse's hoofs were heard on the 
 road, hastening towards Humacao. It was the 
 young orderly, and he bore a note written in Span- 
 ish by Felipe, but signed by Bert, which read : 
 
 THE ANVIL, July 26th. 
 " COLONEL LUZARES, 
 
 " I am not only free, but Don Jose is my pris- 
 oner, The tables are turned, and with friends to
 
 AN UNSUCCESSFUL RAID. 183 
 
 help me, I expect soon to see my father liberated 
 and yourself a prisoner in your own fortress. 
 
 " BEET LABKIN." 
 
 At sunset Benito reported to his commanding 
 officer as follows a truthful statement on his 
 part : 
 
 " I did not find the Don, but this letter was given 
 me to deliver to you." 
 
 The Colonel's cheek blanched as he read the brief 
 missive, but what he would have said or clone is 
 unknown, for at that instant another orderly arrived 
 at the fort with official despatches from San Juan, 
 directing that the entire Spanish force under the 
 chagrined officer's charge be prepared to march for 
 the south shore at a moment's notice, as United 
 States troops had sailed for the island and might 
 land at any hour. 
 
 So his private affairs had to be set aside for the 
 general good, and, with a smothered imprecation at 
 what he called an accursed fate, the unhappy com- 
 mander turned his attention to the assigned duty. 
 His marching orders reached him on the following 
 dav r , and the execution of the prisoners under his 
 care was, therefore, indefinitely postponed, while 
 he at the head of his troops led the way to Caguas, 
 where he would strike the great military road run- 
 ning between San Juan and Ponce. 
 
 But we will now return to our young hero. When 
 Benito had departed, he and Felipe placed their dis- 
 comfited prisoner upon his horse, binding him se- 
 curely there ; then they headed for the mountains, 
 on their way to the Englishman's plantation. 
 
 The distance was about the same as the young 
 orderly had to travel to reach Humacao, but the 
 path was rougher, and the care of their captive de- 
 layed them considerably, so night overtook them 
 long before they reached their destination.
 
 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 There was a new moon, however, and under its 
 pale light they found their way through the woods, 
 and a little before midnight halted at the door 
 of the house. It was an easy task to arouse Mr. 
 Swallow, and he soon came to the main entrance.' 
 
 " Who is there ? " he questioned, before he threw 
 back the bolts. 
 
 " It is I ! Bert Larkin," the lad responded. 
 " Felipe Peregrino, a native, is with me, and we 
 have Don Jose Sardinas as a prisoner. Let us in, 
 and I will explain everything." 
 
 The next minute the door was open, and the 
 Englishman in his pyjamas appeared. 
 
 " What's that ? Don Jose a prisoner? What do 
 you mean ? " 
 
 " We have good reason for it," Bert replied, 
 jumping from his horse and stepping upon the 
 veranda beside his friend. 
 
 Then in low tones he told the experiences he had 
 passed through since he departed from that hos- 
 pitable roof, and what he had learned of the Don's 
 scheme. 
 
 "Well, I declare!" exclaimed the incredulous 
 planter. " I can hardly believe your statements. 
 Don Jose was your father's trusted friend, and he 
 sent me a note by your guide explaining that, while 
 the ranch was nominally in his name, fie was only 
 holding it during the war ; then your father was to 
 return. Can it be you have made a serious mistake ? " 
 
 " I know what I have seen and heard, and felt, 
 in the last two months," expostulated the boy; 
 "and, besides, I have proofs of the Spaniard's guilt 
 in- his own handwriting, if you will onlv look at 
 them." 
 
 " Certainly ! Certainly ! I'll do that much. But 
 let me call a servant to take your horses, then you 
 may all come in here." 
 
 In a few minutes the travelers were in the parlor,
 
 AN UNSUCCESSFUL RAID. 185 
 
 the old interpreter keeping watch over the Don, 
 who was pale but defiant, while the lad and his 
 friend examined the papers the former had in his 
 possession. 
 
 These, along with the boy's full explanations (con- 
 firmed at certain points by Felipe), convinced the 
 doubting ranchman, and he said : 
 
 fc ' I must think this matter over before 1 advise 
 you in your next move. But, meantime, you and 
 your comrade must have food and rest. Fortunately, 
 I have a strong room where I can put the Spaniard 
 under the guard of four men whom I can trust, and 
 so relieve you from that vigil." 
 
 He hastened to carry out these preparations, and 
 an hour later both Bert and Felipe had been fed, 
 and were sleeping soundly in the chambers to which 
 they had been shown. 
 
 The following day neither the lad nor his faithful 
 ally were disturbed until the dinner hour. 
 
 At that meal Mr. Swallow remarked : 
 
 " I find I have a man who can lead us to the very 
 spot in the mountains marked on your map as the 
 headquarters of the bandits, and I have concluded 
 that our first work should be to release your father 
 and Mr. Barnes. 
 
 " We will start at nightfall, and close in on the 
 rendezvous, so as to surprise the robbers at dawn ; 
 and I. think we better take the Don with us, for if 
 we fail in capturing the marauders, it is possible we 
 may be able to exchange the Spaniard for our friends. 
 Once show the gang this letter you have, and they 
 will make a summary end of their former leader. 
 It may not be just the thing to do, but there will be 
 poetic justice in such a move." 
 
 As the sun went down twenty-five heavily armed 
 men, collected from the peasants on the ranch, 
 together with Felipe, Bert, and the Englishman, 
 started for the mountains.
 
 186 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 Horses were used for the first ten miles, and then 
 the rescuers proceeded on foot. Scouts were thrown 
 out as they advanced, and at length the squad had 
 closed in the one entrance to the narrow gorge in 
 which the brigands made their headquarters. 
 
 A halt was no\v made, until a rosy light in the 
 east told of the breaking day ; then, with rifles 
 ready for immediate use, the men moved cautiously 
 up tlie pass until the little plateau with its four rude 
 huts was in sight. 
 
 Thus far not a sign of the bandits had been dis- 
 covered, and, believing their surprise was complete, 
 the raiding party rushed into the clearing, and sur- 
 rounded every cabin. 
 
 As there was no longer any need of silence they 
 now with shouts burst open the door of each build- 
 ing, and then stared about them in amazement. All 
 the huts were empty. 
 
 A minute search was immediately made of the 
 premises. There was every trace of recent occupa- 
 tion, but bandits and prisoners alike had utterly 
 vanished. 
 
 The steep cliffs on every side furnished no possible 
 outlet ; no one had passed down the gorge since the 
 scouts first approached it. There was then but one 
 conclusion : for reasons of their own the old rendez- 
 vous had been abandoned by the marauders some 
 hours before the raid on them was undertaken. 
 
 It was clear, too, that the captured Don was as 
 much mystified by this movement of his former col- 
 leagues as were his captors. He admitted that he 
 had been there only three days before, and the gang 
 was then occupying their usual quarters. There 
 seemed no solution to the mystery until Bert sud- 
 denly remarked : 
 
 " The robbers have learned in someway perhaps 
 through the letter I sent father that Don Jose hac} 
 arranged for the soldiers to attack them as sooq
 
 AN UNSUCCESSFUL RAID. 187 
 
 as I was brought up here, and so have changed 
 their place of concealment. This gives them the 
 winning card, for they can now dictate terms either 
 W ay to father's friends, or his enemies and unload 
 to the highest bidder." 
 
 " You are right," Mr. Swallow emphatically de- 
 clared ; " and there is but one thing for us to do : 
 post a notice on the cabins of your escape and the 
 Don's capture, and request the band to communicate 
 with you at my ranch. It is possible you will hear 
 from them." 
 
 This plan was adopted. Bert wrote a note in 
 English that his father or Mr. Barnes might be 
 called on to translate it, and so would receive tid- 
 ings directly from him and placed it on the door 
 of the first hut where any one visiting the old 
 rendezvous must see it. Then the raiding party 
 began its return. 
 
 Five miles down the mountain where they re- 
 joined their horses, old Felipe took Bert and the 
 Englishman aside, and proposed that he return to 
 the pass, and watch for the reappearance of the 
 bandits. 
 
 " I will then follow them to their new quarters," 
 he said, " and immediately report to you." 
 
 The suggestion was a good one ; so he was sup- 
 plied with two or three days' rations from the 
 provisions the party had with them, and then went 
 back into the hills. 
 
 It was too late when they reached the plantation 
 for Mr. Swallow's next movement to be undertaken 
 that day ; but early on the following morning he 
 carried it out. It was the sending of a trusty mes- 
 senger to the English consul at San Juan, acquainting 
 him with the situation of affairs at the Anvil, and 
 asking two questions : 
 
 " What shall be done with Don Jose ? And what 
 can be done for Captain Larkin and Jack Barnes ? "
 
 188 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 The man returned at the close of the second day 
 with this brief reply : 
 
 " SAN JUAN, July 31st. 
 "My DEAR SWALLOW, 
 
 " The United States troops have landed on the 
 island. Ponce has surrendered without a blow, and 
 the whole southern shore is flocking to the new- 
 comers with open arms. Miles' advance is a perfect 
 ovation. 
 
 " Let young Larkin, therefore, go to the nearest 
 camp of his countrymen, and ask for a force suffi- 
 cient to protect his property and liberate his father, 
 though they scour the mountains to do it. His 
 request will be granted. Turn the villainous Don 
 over to the American authorities when they reach 
 the Anvil. 
 
 " Yours, 
 
 " RALSTON." 
 
 Felipe had not yet come down from the hills, but 
 believing he could leave the whole matter of his 
 father's rescue (should the opportunity for it come 
 during his absence) in the hands of the planter and 
 the old interpreter, Bert the next morning mounted 
 his horse, and, with a single attendant, started on 
 his journey across the island to the American camp.
 
 UNDER THE FLAG. 189 
 
 CHAPTER XXIY. 
 
 UNDER THE FLAG. 
 
 THE route followed by our hero in his travels was 
 over the mountain to the south, thence along the 
 foot of the range to a cart-road running to the south- 
 west, and at length emerging into the highway from 
 Humacao to Caguas, near the village of Guanabo. 
 
 The first part of the way was rough, and com- 
 pelled slow going ; but the farther the lad advanced 
 into the island the better the traveling became, and 
 at nightfall he reached Caguas, on the great mili- 
 tary road. 
 
 He found the town garrisoned by a company of 
 Spanish soldiers, left there two days before by 
 Colonel Luzares, while he with the rest of his com- 
 mand had gone to Aibonito, twenty five miles to 
 the south and west. 
 
 The city was in intense excitement, also, over the 
 rumors that had just reached there of the rapid ad- 
 vance of the United States forces in two divisions 
 one from Ponce through Juan Diaz and Coarno to- 
 wards Aibonito ; and the other from Arroyo through 
 Guyamo towards Coyey, thus bringing the Spanish 
 troops at Aibonito between the two bodies of the 
 enemy, and cutting off every possibility of their re- 
 treat. The rumors were premature, but served to 
 arouse an intense enthusiasm among the native popu- 
 lation, which even the presence of the Spanish sol- 
 diers could scarcely hold in check. 
 
 Bert became acquainted with these facts as he
 
 100 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 waited supper in the public room of the one small 
 hotel that the town afforded, and his own heart 
 quickened with the hope that, before another night, 
 he might be under the protection of his country's 
 flag never so dear as now. 
 
 As he stood looking out of the tavern window at 
 the throngs on the street, an officer accompanied 
 by a half-dozen soldiers came along. In an instant 
 the watching lad recognized in the subaltern a man 
 whom he had frequently seen while confined in the 
 fortress at Humacao, and fearing that he should 
 himself be recognized he turned quickly away. But 
 the movement was not soon enough. The keen eye 
 of the lieutenant fell upon the boy, and halting his 
 men, he strode across to the hostelry, and entered. 
 
 Realizing that his safety now depended upon his 
 coolness and audacity Bert faced the man, remark- 
 ing pleasantly in Spanish : 
 
 " Good evening, Senor Lieutenant ; there is a large 
 crowd on the streets to-night." 
 
 " Yes,- senor," the officer assented, puzzled by the 
 ease and fluency with which the traveler addressed 
 him in his native tongue. He must be mistaken, 
 this could not be the young American prisoner, who 
 had surprised all by his sudden escape from the fort- 
 ress a few days before., and who spoke only English. 
 But he meant to be sure, and so asked : 
 
 " Whence do you come, senor ? " 
 
 " From the north, Lieutenant," the lad remarked 
 with the same calm assurance ; " I was on my way 
 to Ponce, but if rumors are true, I do not know as 
 it will be best to attempt to go farther. What do 
 you think ? " 
 
 " I think not," the baffled officer responded, walk- 
 ing across the room and ordering a glass of wine as 
 an excuse for his entrance. 
 
 Bert, secretly congratulating himself on the suc- 
 cess of his ruse, was about to leave the office, when
 
 UNDER THE FLAG. 191 
 
 a young orderly, covered with dust from his rapid 
 riding, dismounted at the door. A single look 
 showed the lad that the newcomer was Benito, and 
 with a feeling of dismay at the sight of one who 
 would have no doubt as to his identity, he suddenly 
 paused, uncertain what course to pursue. 
 
 His back was towards the Spanish lieutenant, 
 who could not, therefore, detect the tell-tale expres- 
 sion that, in spite of himself, had swept over our 
 hero's face ; but the orderly saw it, and understood 
 it. He also noticed another thing : that the drink- 
 ing officer had whirled on his heel, and was watch- 
 ing keenly to see if there was any show of recogni- 
 tion between himself and the young traveler. 
 
 Benito, however, was equal to the emergency; 
 for he strode by the young American with a care- 
 less, indifferent glance, and, saluting the subaltern, 
 asked : 
 
 " Where shall I find Captain Rialtos, Lieutenant 
 Barriles ? I have a message for him from Colonel 
 Luzares." 
 
 " I am reporting to him now, and you may ac- 
 company me," the officer replied, quite satisfied 
 that his suspicions respecting the young stranger 
 were groundless. 
 
 The two left the hotel together, but not until 
 the orderly in passing Bert had, unnoticed by his 
 companion, whispered the words : 
 
 " I will see you soon." 
 
 It was perhaps two hours later when he, unan- 
 nounced, walked into Bert's room, and with a little 
 laugh, remarked : 
 
 " A close call, wasn't it ? But tell me why you 
 are here? and where is Uncle Felipe ? " 
 
 Quickly the lad explained what had transpired 
 since the orderly last saw him, and the reason for 
 his present journey. Then he inquired, anxiously : 
 
 " Do you think I can reach the American camp ? "
 
 192 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 " I would try it," his friend replied, thoughtfully. 
 " It is safer than for you to remain here, as Lieuten- 
 ant Barriles is suspicious of you, and asked me who 
 I thought you were. Only your familiarity with 
 Spanish saved you from arrest to-night. 
 
 " I thought as much,-' said Bert, lightly ; than he 
 questioned : 
 
 " Shall I get away at once ? " 
 
 "Why not go with me?" asked the orderly. "I 
 brought an order for Captain Kialtos to move his 
 company down to Cayey to-morrow, and shall return 
 to Aibonito immediately." 
 
 " My only difficulty is about horses for I have a 
 man with me. I am afraid the animals we rode to- 
 day cannot stand the additional journey without 
 rest," responded Bert. 
 
 " We can arrange that," replied Ben i to. " Leave 
 your man and horses here, for the night, with orders 
 to return to the Anvil in the morning. Then I will 
 direct that two fresh horses be got ready, one for 
 myself and the other for my attendant. I'll have 
 them taken to the south end of the town where you 
 can join me. There will be a good moon until after 
 midnight, and we shall have no trouble in reaching 
 Aibonito before it goes down. From there you 
 can continue your journey alone." 
 
 Our hero accepted the plan as the most feasible 
 one under the existing circumstances, and for twenty- 
 five miles accompanied the young orderly down the 
 great turnpike, arriving at about two o'clock in the 
 morning in the vicinity of the city named. 
 
 Here Benito left him, his last advice being: 
 
 "I know you are tired, but you had better go 
 around the city before it is light, and take your 
 rest afterwards." 
 
 Having no desire to fall into the hands of Colonel 
 Luzares again, Bert, weary as he was, accepted this 
 suggestion ; and, taking the route the young orderly
 
 UNDER THE FLAG. 193 
 
 kindly marked out for him before they parted, he 
 began the detour necessary to encircle the town. 
 
 There was no real danger of detection until he 
 reapproached the military road at the west side of 
 the city. Here, on a height that commanded the 
 highway, the temporary post had been established, 
 while for several miles towards Coamo a patrol was 
 kept up. But, as Benito had furnished him with 
 the password for the night, he hoped under the 
 cover of the darkness to run the gantlet of the 
 guards without serious delay. 
 
 This expectation was realized. He passed the 
 city, and had gone a mile down the turnpike before 
 he was even challenged. Then a mounted patrol, 
 riding towards the city, hailed him : 
 
 " Who comes there ? " 
 
 " Friend," Bert promptly answered ; but he laid 
 his hand upon his pistol, determined to fight his 
 way down the road if necessary. 
 
 "Advance, friend, and give the countersign," 
 was the reply ; but there was also an ominous click 
 of a rifle that told how the soldier was not to be 
 trifled with. 
 
 Riding therefore close to the trooper the lad said 
 in a low tone : 
 
 " The boy king." 
 
 " All right," the sentinel responded ; " but how is 
 it you are not in uniform ? " 
 
 " I'm on a special mission," explained the boy, 
 confidentially. " If possible I'm going right into 
 the enemy's camp. How far below here is it 2 " 
 
 " At Coamo,'' the soldier answered ; then growing 
 confidential in his turn he went on : 
 
 " Our men came in from there yesterday. But," 
 and now he lowered his voice, " our colonel is going 
 to reconnoiter down that Avay this morning, and 
 may put a masked battery at the bridge a mile this 
 side of the town. Two of our scouts have gone
 
 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 down that way to look over the ground, and they 
 told me. You will doubtless run in with them." 
 
 " Thanks ! I'll be on the lookout for them," was 
 the truthful promise, and Bert rode on. 
 
 Two miles below he entered a wood thick enough 1 
 to afford concealment, and having now been the 
 greater portion of twenty-two hours in the saddle, 
 he felt entitled to a rest. Turning into the brush, 
 therefore, he selected a spot that promised a secure 
 hiding-place for both himself and beast, and dis- 
 mounted. Hitching the animal firmly to a stout 
 sapling, he threw himself on the ground, and in a 
 minute was fast asleep. 
 
 He was aroused after a while by the uneasiness of 
 his horse, and immediately sprang to his feet. The 
 sun was an hour or two high ; the wind blew gently 
 through the overhanging tree-tops, and the birds 
 flew back and forth, unfrightened and undisturbed. 
 
 But the beast had its nose high in the air, and 
 was sniffing loudly. There was something near that 
 his quick ear or delicate sense detected. What 
 was it ? 
 
 He listened, and promptly decided that far away 
 up the road a squad of horsemen was coming. Was 
 there time for him to reach the highway, and re- 
 sume his journey ? Or would it be wiser to remain 
 in hiding there ? 
 
 He was about to try the former experiment, when 
 he heard the sound of voices no great distance from 
 him. 
 
 Springing to his horse, Bert's first act Avas to pull 
 off his coat and button it over the animal's head. 
 This strange and unsuspected blindfolding quieted 
 the beast instantly, and it stood there trembling 
 and quivering with fear. 
 
 Then the boy slipped noiselessly off through the 
 woods towards the place from which the low mur- 
 mur of talking still came.
 
 UNDER THE FLAG. 195 
 
 He soon reached the turnpike, and, peering through 
 the bushes, saw two soldiers on foaming horses, 
 halted under the shade of a huge palm. 
 
 " I think you are right," one of the men was say- 
 ing ; " the colonel is coming, and will be pleased 
 with the news we bring." 
 
 " Yes," agreed the other ; " and I'm glad we 
 reached here first. He can no longer accuse us of 
 dilatoriness." 
 
 Before the other made any reply, a squad of men 
 rode up, and at their head Bert recognized the well- 
 known form of Colonel Luzares. 
 
 The waiting troopers saluted him, and at once 
 gave their report : 
 
 "The camp of the Americans is outside of Coamo, 
 but fully a mile below the bridge, Colonel ; and, if 
 we work rapidly, the battery can be put in position 
 there before they suspect our presence." 
 
 " The guns are now on their way," answered the 
 commander, "and will be up with us shortly." 
 Then he consulted with his scouts as to the best 
 plan of putting the cannon into place. 
 
 The troopers had brought a drafting of the locality 
 with them, which they now submitted to their supe- 
 rior officer. Pointing out the bridge, and then an 
 adjacent height on the rude map, they advised him 
 to hurry on with his cavalry and hold the command- 
 ing position until the battery could be brought 
 down there ; and this the colonel decided to do as 
 soon as he had acquainted the captain of the artil- 
 lery with the plan of operations. 
 
 The listening boy waited to hear no more of the 
 discussion. A great resolve had been born in his 
 soul. He w^ould reach his countrymen in time for 
 them to occupy the bridge before the arrival of the 
 Spaniards, if possible. 
 
 In three minutes he was back by his horse ; 
 unhitching it, he patted the animal a moment to re-
 
 196 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 store its confidence in him, and then led it, still 
 blindfolded, silently and swiftly through the forest, 
 on a parallel with the road. 
 
 This course he continued for some time ; then he 
 gradually drew near the highway, coming out upon 
 it at a point some distance beyond, and quite out of 
 sight of the place where he had left the enemy. 
 
 Then, removing his coat from the head of the 
 horse, he mounted, and dashed away to the south at 
 his fastest speed. 
 
 In fifteen minutes he thundered over the bridge 
 of which the Spaniards had spoken, and, with 
 scarcely a glance at it, settled himself for the last 
 mile of his ride. A minute later he turned the 
 corner, where he came abruptly upon two horsemen, 
 who were apparently waiting there for his coming, 
 for instantly their rifles were at their shoulders, and 
 they cried out in Spanish the one word : 
 
 "Surrender ! " 
 
 Bert did not understand why the men were in 
 canvas uniforms, but the letters on their broad hats 
 assured him that they were United States volunteers, 
 and he therefore answered in delight, speaking also 
 in English : 
 
 " Gladly ! if you will only take me to your com- 
 manding officer. I have some important news for 
 nim." 
 
 " Are 3^ou a Yankee ? " they questioned in some 
 surprise. 
 
 "Yes, sir; every inch, born and bred so!" he 
 exclaimed, laughingly. " Lead on ! " 
 
 They, without further ceremony, turned their 
 horses, and, one on either side, galloped along with 
 him for three-quarters of a, mile, where they came 
 to a rude intrenchment, back of which could be seen 
 a collection of tents, while over the whole there 
 floated on the morning breeze the handsomest flag 
 in the world" Old Glory."
 
 UNDER THE FLAG. 197 
 
 Bert could not help it. Off came his hat, and, 
 when his guards had reported to the officer of the 
 day, he followed them past the sentinel into the 
 encampment with a bared head. 
 
 He was now under the flag that meant justice, 
 equality and safety to every man, woman, and child 
 who claimed its protection.
 
 198 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 BACK AT THE RANCH. 
 
 THE scouts rode directly to the tent of the com- 
 manding officer with their prisoner. 
 
 " Major Greene," one of them said to the officer 
 that instantly appeared, " this youngster says he 
 has an important message for you." 
 
 But Bert sat there on his horse for a full minute, 
 staring at the man before him. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Greene ! " he finally ejaculated. 
 " Who expected to see you in Porto Rico, and a 
 soldier too ! " 
 
 The commander, who had been looking at the boy 
 with a puzzled expression on his face, now recog- 
 nized him, and replied : 
 
 " It is Bert Larkin, I declare ! But, lad, how did 
 you escape the wrecked steamer ? And how came 
 you in this part of the island ? " 
 
 " It is a long story, Major," the happy boy re- 
 sponded, " and it can wait. There is a more impor- 
 tant message for you first," and leaning over the 
 neck of his horse, he told of Colonel Luzares' plan 
 which he had overheard a few miles up the road. 
 
 The officer received the news as if it was an item 
 of small concern ; or at least one over which he 
 could take all the time he pleased. For he turned 
 to his scouts and talked with them for some time 
 about the bridge, the heights beyond it, and its im- 
 portance as a commanding position ; then he said to 
 the men ;
 
 BACK AT THE RANCH. 199 
 
 " Return to the bridge, and, keeping watch of 
 the enemy's movement, report to me their ar- 
 rival." 
 
 To a waiting orderly he added : " Send Captains 
 Rice and Howell to me immediately." 
 
 " Have you had any breakfast, Bert?" he asked 
 when they were alone. 
 
 "No, sir," the lad admitted. A servant was 
 called, and a substantial meal soon placed before 
 the boy. 
 
 He had scarcely finished it when a horse saddled 
 and bridled was brought to the tent door. Buck- 
 ling on his sword, and taking his pistols, the officer 
 now remarked, carelessly : 
 
 " I shall be back in an hour or two, my boy. 
 Make yourself at home here until my return." 
 
 " Oh ! let me go with you, Major ! " Bert cried 
 eagerly. " I want to see the fight." 
 
 Only for a moment did his friend hesitate. Then 
 he said : 
 
 " You may go, if you wish, but, remember, you 
 are subject to my commands." 
 
 " Certainly," assented the lad, rushing out for his 
 horse. 
 
 The major's proceedings had apparently been slow 
 and methodical, yet it was not over twenty minutes 
 after our hero delivered his message before t\vo 
 companies of infantry were moving up the road at 
 double quick, every man elated at the prospect of a 
 brush with the enemy ; but none were more eager 
 than the lad who rode beside the major, and his 
 wish was : " I hope we shall capture Colonel Luzares 
 and all his men." 
 
 It was, however, a sadder scene than that he was 
 to witness. 
 
 The skirmish at the bridge near Coamo is now a 
 matter of history one of the very few places on 
 the island of Porto Rico where American blood was
 
 200 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 shed during the Spanish- American War and fortu- 
 nately only a small amount. 
 
 We shall give, however, the details of that conflict 
 only so far as they affect the fortunes of our hero. 
 
 The two forces reached the disputed point about 
 the same moment. If there was any advantage it 
 was in the favor of the Spaniards, but the battery 
 had not yet been put into position, and anxious to 
 take the height before the cannons became service- 
 able, Major Greene dashed over the bridge with the 
 shout : 
 
 " Forward, men ! The victory is ours ! " 
 
 Side by side with him Bert rode. The stream was 
 crossed, and the ascent of the hill begun just as 
 Colonel Luzares gave the order for his troops to 
 fire. 
 
 It was the only volley the Spaniards poured into 
 the American ranks, but under it two men one an 
 officer were killed, and several wounded. 
 
 It made no impression, however, on the advancing 
 men. As coolly as though on dress parade they 
 climbed the hill ; as regularly as though shooting 
 at a target they poured in their deadly fire. 
 
 Alarmed by the unwavering advance of their 
 opponents, and decimated by the showering bullets, 
 the Spanish troops now broke, and fled helter- 
 skelter up the road or through the neighboring 
 woods. 
 
 There was a moment when their commander 
 might have safelv followed them. But he suddenly 
 found himself face to face with his late prisoner, 
 and, recognizing him at once, he delayed for a per- 
 sonal revenge. 
 
 "Die, spy and bandit," he hissed, dropping his 
 sword, and drawing a pistol from his belt. The 
 next instant, he raised the weapon and pressed the 
 trigger. 
 
 Utterly unprepared for the attack, Bert would
 
 BACK AT THE RANCH. 201 
 
 have been shot down but for the watchful eye of 
 Major Greene. As the Spaniard raised the revolver, 
 that officer leaped his horse forward, and struck the 
 uplifted arm with his sword. It turned the aim of 
 the pistol, and the bullet lodged in the neck of the 
 animal the colonel was riding. Staggering forward 
 the beast fell, pitching its rider to the ground. But 
 he was on his feet in an instant, and exclaiming : 
 
 " I shall never be taken alive," he put his own 
 weapon to his breast, and fired. 
 
 As he fell to the ground from his self-inflicted 
 wound, the men who were still with him surren- 
 dered, and the short, sharp skirmish was over, the 
 victor}'- was with the United States troops. 
 
 The wounded officer had scarcely touched the 
 earth, however, before Major Greene and Bert, dis- 
 mounting, were beside him. As they raised him 
 up his eyes opened, and rested upon them. 
 
 " I am dying," he said, faintly, in his native 
 tongue. 
 
 Major Greene looked inquiringly at the lad near 
 him, who translated the solemn words into English. 
 
 " Tell him I hope not," the humane major replied ; 
 " and that we will move him to the camp as speedily 
 as possible where he can have medical aid." 
 
 Bert repeated the message to the Spaniard. 
 
 " I am dying," the colonel declared again ; " and 
 I'm glad of it. Better so than disgrace. Boy," he 
 went on, fixing his eyes on the lad who knelt by 
 his side, " Don Jose and I played for heavy stakes, 
 but you have beaten us. Tell him I'm glad of it, 
 for now I have not that sin to answer for. Save, 
 
 too, those innocent men at the fort, if you can : 
 
 his voice grew weaker; his eyes closed for a mo- 
 ment. Then they opened wide again. 
 
 " Long live Spain ! Long live the king ! " he 
 ghouted, and fell back dead. 
 
 Though Major Greene did not understand what
 
 202 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 the m.in said, he realized that Bert and the officer 
 knew each other, and that this last conversation had 
 some reference to past events which were familiar 
 to them, therefore he glanced questioningly towards 
 the lad. 
 
 " I will explain all to you when we are back at 
 your tent, Major," Bert remarked as he noticed that 
 officer's gaze. " But the poor man is dead now, 
 and I shall try not to judge him. too harshly." 
 
 Some hours later, in the privacy of Major Greene's 
 tent, Bert therefore related the strange and thrilling 
 experiences through which he had passed since he 
 arrived at the island, and with which the dead 
 colonel had had so much to do. Then showing the 
 letter which the English consul at San Juan had 
 written Mr. Swallow, he told the errand on which 
 he had come. 
 
 " I will report the matter to the general in person, 
 and ask to be assigned to the duty myself," Major 
 Greene said, impulsively ; and he immediately took 
 steps towards the fulfilment of the promise. 
 
 Within twenty- four hours he and the lad were 
 closeted with General Miles, who on hearing our 
 hero's story gave an order for one of the auxiliary 
 steamers to carry Major Greene and an adequate 
 force from the Port of Ponce to Point de la Luna, 
 a few miles north of Humacao. 
 
 Here they were disembarked, and horses procured 
 from the friendly planters in that region for the 
 journey across the country to the Anvil. 
 
 Only one incident befell them on the trip which 
 is of importance enough to relate. 
 
 When within a short distance of the ranch they 
 suddenly came upon two men who were camping 
 by the roadside. 
 
 As the cavalcade swept down upon the campers 
 they sprang to their feet, and rushing for their 
 horses, which were tethered close at hand, endeav-
 
 BACK AT THE RANCH. 203 
 
 ored to escape. But only one of them succeeded in 
 doing so ; the other was not quick enough, and was 
 surrounded and captured by the head troopers before 
 he could mount his animal. 
 
 Bert arrived on the scene just as the man was 
 seized, and glancing at him and then at his horse, he 
 cried : 
 
 " Hold him ! He must be one of the gang of 
 robbers ; for that is the horse old Felipe rode when 
 he went back alone into the mountains." 
 
 The man took his arrest coolly. Looking first at 
 the uniformed men, he asked : 
 
 " Americanos ? " 
 
 " Yes," his captors assented. 
 
 Then he pointed towards Bert inquiring: 
 
 " Young Seiior Larkin ? " 
 
 " Si," Bert responded in Spanish. Then he 
 eagerly questioned : " Do you know where my 
 father is ? " 
 
 " I do," the fellow replied, boldly. " I know where 
 the captain, and Barnes and Felipe all are. That 
 is Felipe's horse." 
 
 " I know it," the lad retorted. " That is why we 
 arrested you. "Will you show us where father is?" 
 
 The man looked the boy over, then he said : 
 
 " I will take you where he is, if I may then go 
 free." 
 
 The lad translated this offer to Major Greene. 
 
 " We'll think it over," replied the officer. " It 
 will be time enough to decide when we reach the 
 ranch, which you say is now near." 
 
 So the captured bandit was put on his horse, and 
 the whole squad rode on rapidly towards their 
 destination. 
 
 In an hour they were there. The mansion house 
 was found to be in the charge of the same negro 
 that had waited on Don Jose the night Bert first 
 visited the plantation ; and he was not only seized
 
 204 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 but questioned sharply as to his knowledge of his 
 master's affairs. 
 
 It soon became apparent that the fellow knew 
 nothing of the schemer's plans, and had only obeyed 
 the Spanish noble as his employer, and, as he ber 
 lieved, the rightful owner of the estate. 
 
 Announcing, therefore, that he was Captain Lar- 
 kin's son, and should take charge of the ranch until 
 his father could be found, Bert ordered entertain- 
 ment to be provided for the American officer and 
 his men. 
 
 He then, at Major Greene's suggestion, sent for 
 the nearest gefes and made a similar announcement 
 to them ; but he also explained enough of Don Jose's 
 rascally plot for them to understand that Captain 
 Larkin and Mr. Barnes were alive and in the hands 
 of the bandits, from whom the troops now hoped 
 to rescue them. 
 
 Producing the captured bandit he now asked if 
 any of the chiefs knew him. 
 
 Half of the assembled men immediately called 
 him by name, and on further questioning stated that 
 the fellow had once lived on the plantation, but had 
 been discharged by Captain Larkin for theft. 
 
 Turning to the robber, therefore, Bert made this 
 promise : 
 
 " If you will lead us to the place where father 
 and his friends are confined, I will agree to tell 
 father of your act and leave your case in his hands. 
 He shall decide what is to be done with you." 
 
 "And if I don't?" the man questioned. 
 
 " You will be turned over to the American author- 
 ities as one of the gang of bandits that has pillaged 
 this community, and suffer as such." 
 
 The fellow after a moment's thought said : 
 
 " I will leave it to the captain." 
 
 " Very well," answered the young master of the 
 * <Jnch, " and as your companion escaped, and doubt-
 
 BACK AT THE RANCH. 205 
 
 less will report our arrival here at your rendezvous, 
 Ave will start for the hills without delay." 
 
 A half dozen soldiers under a sergeant were left 
 in charge of the house ; but the others, led by Bert 
 and the major, mounted their horses and rode rapidly 
 off towards the mountains. 
 
 The route they took led near the ravine where 
 the boy had a week before made his unsuccessful 
 raid in company with Mr. Swallow, and he pointed 
 out to the officer, who was riding near him, the way 
 into the glen, and explained its security and seclu- 
 siveness. 
 
 " I presume it is in some such spot as that, only 
 perhaps more solitary, we shall now find the im- 
 prisoned men," he said. 
 
 It was an hour before sundown when they came 
 to a stream coursing around the peak of the Great 
 Anvil itself, and their guide announced that this 
 formed the road into the bandit stronghold. 
 
 All talking was, therefore, forbidden ; the caval- 
 cade was formed into a column, with four horsemen 
 abreast as many as could ride side by side in the 
 brook and as silently and as rapidly as possible 
 the ascent of the stream began.
 
 206 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 FATHER AND SON. 
 
 WHEN Felipe proposed to Mr. Swallow and Bert 
 that he should return to the hills and watch for 
 traces of the bandits, it was really a desire on his 
 part not only to find the new rendezvous of the mis- 
 creants, but to deliver, single-handed, Captain 
 Lark in and the old sailor from their imprisonment. 
 He reasoned thus : 
 
 " I released that boy though a whole battalion 
 was guarding him. What then is a squad of a dozen 
 men a mere bagatelle ? Once locate the camp, and 
 1 shall find a way to accomplish my purpose." 
 
 He may have been conceited in the estimation of 
 his own powers, but his motive was a laudable one. 
 He desired to effect the deliverance of his old friend 
 in a way that would give the whole credit to him- 
 self and simply to show his gratitude for past 
 favors. 
 
 His journey back to the pass was made cautiously, 
 for he had a suspicion that the raiding party might 
 have been watched and followed ; but as he rode 
 slowly along he discovered nothing to confirm this 
 suspicion, and when, on arriving at the clearing, he 
 found the note Bert had left still untouched, he dis- 
 missed every fear. The brigands were not around, 
 and probably were in absolute ignorance of this 
 visit to their old headquarters. 
 
 His first act, therefore, was to take down the 
 missive so conspicuously posted up, and put it into
 
 FATHER AND SON. 207 
 
 his pocket. Not that he for a moment purposed to 
 keep it from those for whom it was intended ; it 
 was his plan rather, when the whereabouts of the 
 robbers was determined, to go boldly into their 
 camp and deliver the letter representing himself 
 as the messenger of Mr. Swallow and young Larkin. 
 
 In this way he hoped to secure an interview with 
 Captain Larkin, and obtain some idea of the place 
 in which the officer and his comrade in misfortune 
 Mr. Barnes were confined. Such a knowledge 
 of the rendezvous and its surroundings were indis- 
 pensable to the carrying out of the scheme which 
 was fast forming in his mind. One factor that 
 entered into the ultimate success of the plan, how- 
 ever, he did not make full allowance for : whether 
 the bandits, after he once visited their camp would 
 permit him to depart. 
 
 Having secured the note he returned down the 
 pass until he found a secluded nook where he could 
 hide, and yet have a good view of any one who 
 entered the gorge, and there he began what proved 
 to be not only a tiresome but a fruitless vigil. 
 
 Not a person appeared during the whole day, and 
 as darkness came on he went back to the plateau, 
 where he first tethered his horse, and then took up 
 his own quarters in the largest of the huts the one 
 which had been the main dwelling of the gang. 
 Here, after a frugal supper, he crawled into the loft, 
 and fixed himself as comfortably as possible for a 
 night's rest. 
 
 " If the clearing is visited," he reasoned, " the 
 intruder will be likely to come here, and I shall hear 
 him ; " but the night passed as the day before it, 
 without any one to disturb the quietness and peace 
 of the deserted rendezvous. 
 
 The next morning as Felipe prepared his solitary 
 breakfast he communed long and earnestly with 
 himself.
 
 208 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 " There's something about this I'm not allowing 
 for," he muttered, " and let me see if I can reason it 
 out. The boy was right when he said it was his 
 letter to his father that led to the change of the 
 bandits' camp. The captain is a shrewd one, and is 
 playing off those rascals, one set against the other. 
 But he'd want to make sure of the boy surer than 
 he did of himself. Ho\v now has he done it ? " 
 
 For sometime the old interpreter remained in deep 
 thought. In fact it was not until he had eaten his 
 breakfast, and lighted his cigarette that he again 
 resumed his soliloquy. Then he went on : 
 
 " The captain certainly expected the Don to bring 
 the lad here ; why now didn't the gang wait until 
 the Spaniard and boy had come before they changed 
 their headquarters. They could have caught both 
 and taken them along too. It must be they were 
 afraid that Don Jose's coming would be so closely 
 followed up by the colonel and his soldiers they'd 
 have no chance to escape ; and so it isn't likely they 
 would let their old leader go unwatched." 
 
 " He says he was here three days ago or said so 
 yesterday that w r as then Sunday. Monday he ex- 
 pected a messenger from the colonel, and had his 
 letter all written to him, asking for the boy. But 
 when I called, requesting him to go down to II u- 
 macao, it changed the plans somewhat " and he 
 chuckled lowly at the thought " but I may count 
 it as a sure thing the bandits knew he went off with 
 me, and they are watching for his return. There's 
 no use for them to come here until he does and not 
 even then unless it is safe for them to do so. Now 
 I'm on the right track." 
 
 He rolled up another cigarette, smiling com- 
 placently all the while. When it was lighted he 
 continued : 
 
 " AVhat I want now is to strike the trail of the 
 man who reports at headquarters how things are
 
 FATHER AND SON. 209 
 
 going on down at the ranch. How 'm I going to do 
 it ? It's likely he's down that way now, and prob- 
 ably looked for the Don's return last night. He'll 
 wait a good bit of to-day for him, and when the 
 Spaniard don't come, he'll go up to the rendezvous 
 with the tidings. I must find a way to intercept 
 him." 
 
 " It would be easy enough if I knew the direction 
 from which he would come ; but, doubtless, he 
 changes that each time he makes a trip. He would 
 do that as a blind anyway. Now isn't there some 
 
 Elace where, whatever route he took from the ranch, 
 e'd at length strike in entering the hills ? I must 
 see." 
 
 He packed up his traps ; loaded them on his horse ; 
 and started down the pass. It was still early morn- 
 ing, and he felt there was no great haste. He 
 wanted first of all to find a spot from which he 
 could get a general survey of the landscape clear 
 down to the Anvil mansion. 
 
 None of the crags about him seemed to offer just 
 the point of observation he desired, so he rode on, 
 working slowly to the west and north a direction 
 Avhich at last brought him out in full view of the 
 sharp part of the mountain peak which formed the 
 point to The Anvil, and gave to the locality its 
 name. 
 
 There it loomed up before him, five hundred feet 
 in the air, and not over a mile away. 
 
 " I wonder if I can climb up there," he said, 
 gazing at the mountain top ; " if so, I can see^-inost 
 of the island." 
 
 He knew it would be a hard climb, but, conclud- 
 ing to make the trial, looked round for a place to 
 conceal his horse. He was not at a loss, however, 
 to find a suitable place for the hiding. The huge 
 gum trees that grew at that high level, and the 
 rank ferns of the tropics were all about him. Chasms 
 U
 
 210 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 in the ledges, and breaks among the great boulders, 
 abounded. A score of places presented themselves 
 at a single glance adaptable for his purpose. 
 
 It was an opening in the rock, almost hid by an 
 enormous gum tree, and not over fifty feet away, 
 that he finally selected. Leading the animal past 
 the tree trunk into the cavern, he fastened it securely 
 to a fragment of stone. Then he drew dead wood 
 across the mouth until it was fully concealed. No 
 one would suspect the presence of the horse there, 
 and the big guuiwood would enable him to identify 
 the place from a long distance. 
 
 He was now prepared for his climbing, and walked 
 quickly along the slope, looking for the best place 
 to ascend. In a few minutes he heard the rushing 
 of a stream, and, thinking he would find an accessible 
 path along its banks, hastened towards it. 
 
 Reaching the brook two hundred feet further on, 
 he suddenly gave a low exclamation of delight. The 
 cause of his utterance was the discovery of a horse's 
 track on the bank of the stream. It looked fresh, 
 and as though but a short time before the animal 
 had come up out of the water on its way down the 
 mountain. 
 
 Was not this a trail that would lead to the bandit 
 camp ? He believed so, and determined to follow 
 it up. 
 
 The brook was not deep, and stepping noiselessly 
 into it, he crossed over to the other side and searched 
 eagerly there for the place where the beast had 
 entered the water. He could not find it, though he 
 looked for at least fifty feet up and down the bank. 
 
 He now went back to the right side of the stream, 
 and examined the track more closely. It had evi^ 
 dently been made by the animal as it leapt out of 
 the water, while descending the brook. He decided, 
 therefore, to go back for his own horse, and then, 
 ascending the rivulet, keep a sharp eye out for the
 
 FATHER AND SON. 211 
 
 place of entrance on each bank. Where the other 
 horse had come from, his horse could go. 
 
 In a few minutes he was back at the stream, and 
 began the ascent, finding soon that it did not come 
 directly down from the mountain, but wound around 
 the foot of the peak to its west side ; and then it 
 entered a deeply- wooded ravine which formed the 
 hollow, or curve, in that side of the huge Anvil. 
 There had been as yet no mark that indicated the 
 entrance of the bandit's horse to the brook, and the 
 searcher remarked to himself : 
 
 " I have struck it now. This stream is the road- 
 bed that leads into the new rendezvous. I must be 
 cautious." 
 
 He rode out of the water and into the thick woods 
 to think the matter over. Should he go on, or 
 wait until the robber who evidently had gone 
 down the mountain should return, and then follow 
 him in ? Would not his presence in the camp be 
 more easily explained if he adopted the latter 
 course ? He decided it would, and making sure he 
 was entirely concealed, he waited. 
 
 The forenoon passed, and half the afternoon, but 
 he did not stir. Confident that he was on the right 
 track, time was of no account. He could be patient 
 until the returning brigand came. 
 
 But his patience Avas not to be tried much longer. 
 !N"ot far from four o'clock he caught the swash of a 
 horse's hoof faint, but positive. It grew louder, 
 and he held his own horse's jaws to prevent it from 
 neighing, as a man, heavily armed, passed, riding 
 straight up the stream. When the sound of the 
 animal's steps had died away in the distance, Felipe 
 mounted his own beast, and followed the fellow. 
 
 For a mile the brook wound among the hills, its 
 banks growing higher, and nearer together, until at 
 length they were twenty feet high, and not over ten 
 feet apart, while the sparkling waters rushed and
 
 212 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 foamed between them, as though eager to find a 
 broader channel. 
 
 Stopping only long enough to make sure that the 
 note he carried was safe in the bosom of his shirt, 
 the old native plunged into the chasm, and, though 
 the water reached the belly of his horse, rode fear- 
 lessly on until the steep banks abruptly ended, and 
 the ravine as suddenly widened into a broad and 
 beautiful plateau. 
 
 Near the center of this plain were two log huts, 
 side by side, before which a half-dozen men were 
 standing, talking with the horseman who had just 
 arrived ; and Felipe had barely time to draw a white 
 cloth from his pocket and hold it out as a flag of 
 truce, when his coming was discovered. 
 
 Immediately the bandits flocked around him, 
 flourishing their weapons, and crying in chorus : 
 
 " Who are you 2 What do you want ? Speak 
 quick, or we'll cut you down ! " and drawn machetes 
 were whirled alarmingly close to the newcomer's 
 head. 
 
 " I have a message for Captain Larkin," Felipe 
 announced, coolly. " Take me to your leader." 
 
 His cool assumption and fearless attitude led the 
 horde to sheathe their weapons, and they escorted 
 him to the huts. Then a huge fellow of perhaps 
 forty years of age, whose belt bristled with weapons, 
 and whose face spoke of cunning cruelty, came to 
 the door of the larger building, asking : 
 
 " What is it, men ? " 
 
 " A messenger for Captain Larkin," they an- 
 swered, stepping back and allowing their chief to 
 face the old interpreter. 
 
 For a moment the gefe stared at the old man, 
 then he questioned sharply : 
 
 " How did you find your way here ? " 
 
 " By following your courier up the brook," Felipe 
 answered, pleasantly.
 
 "Who are you? What do you want? Speak quick or we'll 
 CUt you down !"-Page 213. Yankee Lad's Pluck.
 
 FATHER AND SON. 213 
 
 " Who sent you ? " 
 
 " Captain Larkin's son ; here is a letter from him," 
 and the manuscript was handed over. 
 
 The leader looked it over. 
 
 " Bah ! it is in English ! " he remarked in evident 
 disgust. Then to one of his men he said : " Bring 
 the prisoners here." 
 
 The fellow addressed went to the smaller cabin, 
 and returned with the two Americans at his heel, 
 both apparently well and hearty. As they caught 
 sight of the messenger they cried simultaneously : 
 
 " Why, Felipe, what means it ? How came you 
 here ? " and, unhindered by their captors, they shook 
 hands heartily with the old native. 
 
 " That explains," was his brief reply to their 
 questions, pointing towards the missive which the 
 chief held. 
 
 The bandit passed it to Captain Larkin, saying : 
 
 " Bead it to me." 
 
 " Thank God ! " was the captain's exclamation as 
 he glanced at the letter ; then he translated it into 
 Spanish. As the reader already knows, it told of 
 Bert's escape, of Don Jose's capture, of the lad's 
 whereabouts, and of his desire to arrange with the 
 brigands for the release of their prisoners. 
 
 The silence that for a minute or two followed the 
 reading was broken by Jack Barnes saying in evi- 
 dent pride : 
 
 " Captain, doesn't that back up what I said about 
 the boy ? I told you he'd prove too smart for any 
 company of Spaniards you could scare up. If the 
 ocean wasn't big enough to kill him, how 'd you 
 expect a Spanish Don and Colonel could do it? " 
 
 Then he asked Felipe for a cigarette as coolly as 
 if he was the leader of the gang instead of its pris- 
 oner. 
 
 " What does young Larkin propose ? " the chief 
 bandit now inquired.
 
 214 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 " To exchange the Don for those fellows," Felipe 
 replied, pointing towards the Americans. " He 
 thought you'd give a little extra to have the traitor 
 in your hands." 
 
 There was an insinuation in the latter sentence 
 which caused the surrounding men to exclaim ex- 
 citedly : 
 
 " Wouldn't we though, gefe ? Just turn him over 
 to us," and their hands dropped instinctively down 
 upon the handles of their machetes. 
 
 " We must think this over, my men," the leader 
 said at length. u Disarm the messenger, and let 
 him go with the other prisoners for the night." 
 
 His order was immediately obeyed, and five min- 
 utes thereafter Felipe, despite his protest that he 
 came under a flag of truce and should be allowed 
 to depart, found himself shut up in a log hut with 
 the two men he had hoped to rescue. 
 
 " This is rough on you, old friend," Captain Lar- 
 kin remarked when they were alone, speaking in 
 English so that the guard, whom he knew was con- 
 stantly kept outside, should not understand. 
 
 " Not at all ! " replied the faithful fellow with a 
 laugh. " I wanted a long interview with you, and 
 can now have it without fear of interruption ; " he 
 then told of the thrilling events that had transpired 
 since he first met Bert at the fortress. 
 
 " May God bless you ! " the captain exclaimed 
 when he had finished. " if I ever get out of this 
 you shall not lose anything for your brave acts." 
 
 "I want nothing, Captain, but the chance to serve 
 you. Long years ago you came to my help, and I 
 told you then Felipe Peregrine would not forget it. 
 This is only the proof that I meant what I said." 
 
 Again the officer grasped the old interpreter's 
 hand in a hearty shake, then the latter inquired : 
 
 " How have the brigands used you and Mr. 
 Barnes ? "
 
 FATHER AND SON. 215 
 
 " Fairly well on the whole," Captain Larkin re- 
 sponded. " They were quite strict with us until 
 Don Jose brought in my son's letter. When he 
 had gone I called in Juan, the chief, whom I once 
 employed, and read him the part that related to the 
 Spaniard's scheme and treachery. He knew enough 
 of the plot to see now that he was told of it how 
 he and his men were only the tools of the man who 
 was seeking my property, and that his and their 
 lives would be worth no more than my own, when 
 once the Don had accomplished his purpose. 
 
 " Barnes and I knew of this retreat, having once 
 come up in here prospecting. "We told the bandit 
 chief of it, and, during the time Don Jose allowed 
 me to decide what I would do to save my boy, his 
 men Avere building these cabins. An hour after the 
 Spaniard left the other rendezvous, promising to 
 bring Bert to me, we had removed here." 
 
 " Juan also kept watch over the mansion house, 
 and knew when Don Jose rode away with a Spanish 
 orderly for Humacao, but supposed he had only gone 
 for the lad, and would be back in a day or two. His 
 object was, of course, to seize both the Don and the 
 boy before the soldiers arrived, and then make the 
 best terms he could for himself and his followers 
 with me." 
 
 This escape of Bert and the capture of the chief 
 plotter changes the whole aspect of the affair, and 
 I wonder a little myself what Juan's decision will 
 be. But none of the bandits have any real animos- 
 ity against either Barnes or myself, and once sure 
 they can save their own necks, we shall have no 
 difficulty in arranging for our release." 
 
 " The lad is safe any way, and with the liability 
 of the English consul stirring up the authorities in 
 San Juan against Colonel Luzares, he is not likely 
 to make us much trouble. Really, Felipe, I am quite 
 sure our sojourn here in the mountains will soon, be
 
 216 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 a thing of the past, and I shall be able to clasp my 
 dear boy in my arms. How I love him ! " 
 
 The next morning the leader of the band held a 
 long talk with his prisoners. He freely admitted 
 that the easiest way out of the whole affair for him- 
 self and followers seemed to be the exchange of 
 the three men for Don Jose ; but he did not see just 
 how that could be arranged and the gang not 
 captured. 
 
 " I shall keep you all a few days longer," he fi- 
 nally said, " until I can investigate the situation for 
 myself. But you will be well treated, and allowed 
 the freedom of the plateau during a portion of each 
 day." 
 
 An hour later he, accompanied by one of his men 
 who had appropriated Felipe's horse, rode off down 
 the stream. 
 
 He was gone five days, and when he returned he 
 was not only alone, but seemed greatly troubled 
 about something. 
 
 The prisoners were instantly ordered into their 
 hut, and the door was securely barricaded from with- 
 out. What then took place the imprisoned men 
 could only judge by the sounds they heard, for they 
 saw nothing. 
 
 There was first a prolonged discussion near the 
 large hut ; then the sound of horses being saddled 
 and bridled and fastened close at hand as though 
 ready for immediate use ; then the noise of the pre- 
 paring and eating of a meal, in which the prisoners 
 were either purposely or thoughtlessly forgotten ; 
 then there came the clear and unmistakable evi- 
 dence of a hurried departure. 
 
 " They have deserted us," said Captain Larkin. 
 
 " Yes, and left us fastened in," growled Barnes. 
 
 " "We can dig out," Felipe suggested. 
 
 " If we have to," replied the captain. " My 
 opinion is that friends are near."
 
 FATHER AND SON. 217 
 
 As if in answer to his thought there came at that 
 moment the sharp crack of rifles from down the 
 ravine. 
 
 It was followed in a few minutes by the sound 
 of rushing horses a small number at first then a 
 larger body a moment after then a short conflict 
 close at hand with pistols and machetes ; and finally 
 a shout of victory in good old English. 
 
 " They are ours, boys ! Throw open the huts, 
 and release the prisoners ! " 
 
 Then the props were taken from the door, and the 
 three men rushed out, only to stop, and stare in 
 amazement, at what they saw and heard. 
 
 A squad of American horsemen was in the clear- 
 ing! The Stars and Stripes floated proudly from 
 the staff the color-sergeant bore ! And, as the 
 liberated men appeared, three rousing cheers burst 
 from the lips of the troopers ; " Hurrah ! Hurrah ! 
 Hurrah ! " 
 
 The liberators were United States soldiers ! 
 
 Not all, however. In the front rank of the uni- 
 formed men was a lad in the dress of a planter, 
 who immediately leaped from his horse, and, rushing 
 forward, sprung into Captain Larkin's arms. 
 
 " My father ! " he cried. " My dear father ! " 
 
 The" captain hugged the youth to his breast., 
 murmuring : " My boy ! My dear boy ! " 
 
 Father and son had met.
 
 218 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 MAJOR GREENE'S PROPOSAL. 
 
 " I SAY, Captain, can't you let up on the young- 
 ster a little I I want to hug him some myself ! " 
 Mr. Barnes exclaimed the next minute. 
 
 " Of course he can," Bert himself immediately 
 answered ; and, released from his father's loving 
 embrace, he now shook hands heartily, first with the 
 sailor, and then with old Felipe. 
 
 " I'm glad to see you all, and we've lots to tell 
 each other," he then said ; " but 1 have an old friend 
 here to introduce first. Jack, who is this?" 
 
 At the lad's words, Major Greene came forward, 
 and endured the old seaman's scrutiny with a pleas- 
 ant smile upon his face. 
 
 " Well now, if it isn't Lawyer Greene ! all dressed 
 up in regimentals, too ! I say, squire, I'm real glad 
 to see you ! How is your wife and little daughter? 
 And when did you come to the island ? " Mr. Barnes 
 rattled on in rapturous delight, grasping the officer's 
 outstretched hand. 
 
 Then Captain Larkin and the old interpreter, in 
 turn, were introduced to the major, and, with a 
 little explanation on the part of Bert, soon under- 
 stood who this old acquaintance was. 
 
 " I am very grateful to you and your men for 
 this deliverance, Major Greene," Captain Larkin 
 now said. 
 
 " It is a very small thing compared with the serv- 
 ice your son rendered me some months ago," replied
 
 MAJOR GREENE'S PROPOSAL. 219 
 
 the commander with much feeling. ' ; I am the one 
 to be thankful for this opportunity of serving you 
 and him." 
 
 " But, sir," he added a moment later, " had we 
 not better remain here for the night ? It will be 
 dark before we can get out of the gorge, and my 
 men have already been some hours in the saddle." 
 
 " Certainly," Captain Larkin responded. " I do 
 not know how well off the bandits were for food, 
 but I presume we shall find enough to furnish at 
 least a bite for all." 
 
 " We brought rations with us, in preparation for 
 a prolonged siege of this rendezvous should it prove 
 necessary, and so shall get along nicely," the officer 
 explained. Then he gave the order for his men to 
 go into camp. 
 
 In a short time the plateau was sparkling with 
 camp-fires ; and the appetizing odor of hot coffee 
 and fried meats filled the air. 
 
 The small hut was turned into a guard-house for 
 the captured robbers, and there all but two of the 
 infamous gang were soon imprisoned. The excep- 
 tions \vere Juan, the chief, and his trusty lieutenant ; 
 they had been killed in the brief fight with the 
 troops, preferring to fall in battle rather than die as 
 felons. 
 
 The large cabin became the headquarters for the 
 officers and their friends. A fair supply of provi- 
 sions was found in storage there, and, added to 
 what the soldiers had brought, enabled all to feast 
 sumptuously. 
 
 Rude brush shelters were quickly constructed for 
 the troops, and it was not long before the tired men 
 had eaten, and rolled up in their blankets for the 
 night. 
 
 But at the big hut it was quite different. Captain 
 Larkin, Mr. Barnes, Old Felipe, and Bert, all had 
 thrilling stories to tell ; and Major Greene and his
 
 ^20 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 officers listened in astonishment to the experiences 
 which each in turn related. 
 
 " Who \vould ever have thought, when you bade 
 me good-by in my parlor last September, Bert, that 
 you were to encounter such perils on land and sea 
 as you have ? " the major remarked, after he had 
 heard all. " It sounds like a wild romance. I don't 
 know but I shall have to pinch myself to make 
 sure that I'm not dreaming." 
 
 "Is any of it more improbable than what you 
 yourself have passed through, sir ? " the lad re- 
 torted. " Suppose you had been told at the same 
 time that in less than a year war would exist 
 between the States and Spain, and you would be 
 here in this island in command of a battalion of the 
 American forces, would you have believed it ? " 
 
 " I reckon not," admitted the officer, laughingly, 
 lie knew the boy had fairly turned the tables on 
 him. 
 
 The next morning, while breakfast was preparing, 
 the major, Captain Larkin, Mr. Barnes and Bert 
 went out for a short walk. Their course led them 
 across a little plateau, and then up to the head of 
 the ravine, where the brook came dashing down 
 from the mountain top. 
 
 It was a pretty sight. From some spring, hidden 
 among the overhanging cliffs, the clear water first 
 bubbled forth ; then, leaping from rock to rock, it 
 descended into a small basin at the foot of the 
 precipice ; from here it ran off down the ravine, 
 across the plateau, through the gorge, and then, 
 swollen by the inpouring of other streams, swept 
 into the great valley below already quite a river. 
 
 " Up yonder towers the highest peak of the 
 island," Captain Larkin remarked, pointing to the 
 sharp point of The Anvil. " I've often thought I 
 should like to ascend it ; but it cannot be done from 
 this side."
 
 MAJOR GREENE'S PROPOSAL. 221 
 
 " We can make a special trip up here, just for 
 that, some day, father," Bert suggested. " I should 
 like nothing better. But does your ranch come up 
 as far as this ? " 
 
 " Yes," the captain replied ; " my deeds cover all 
 this end of the peak, and also the south side as far 
 as the ridge from which you caught your first view 
 of the plantation." 
 
 " Major Greene, what would they think of sucli a 
 farm as this in the States ? " the lad inquired, with 
 sparkling eyes. He was glad his friend could know 
 of the vast extent of the hacienda. 
 
 " We should have to go into the west to find any- 
 thing like it, my boy," he responded, somewhat 
 absently, however. His eyes were studying the 
 surrounding ledges, and the general configuration 
 of the ravine. The next instant he said : 
 
 " But for its tropical verdure, this whole locality 
 reminds me of a mining region in the west, where I 
 own some property. Have you ever prospected 
 here for gold, Captain Larkin ? " 
 
 " Only to a limited extent, " he answered. " Small 
 nuggets have sometimes been found by the natives 
 in this stream, below the gorge ; and Jack and I 
 came up here one day and looked about a little. 
 Neither one of us is an expert mineralogist, however, 
 and we discovered nothing that promised value." 
 
 " Yet it is generally believed that gold, as well as 
 coal, and iron, and copper, is to be found in this 
 island in paying quantities," the officer remarked, 
 musingly. 
 
 " I know it," Captain Larkin admitted. " The 
 mineral deposits here, as in Cuba, have been allowed 
 to go undeveloped under the Spanish rule. But, 
 with the Yankees in charge here, it will be different ; 
 their prying eyes will unearth and make profitable 
 every ore these mountain ranges possess." 
 
 " Why should you wait for some one else to find
 
 222 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 the treasures your own land holds ? " asked Major 
 Greene, significantly. " I know there are too many 
 men in the gorge now for us to undertake a careful 
 prospecting ; but, as a friend, I would advise you to 
 return here at an early date and examine the whole 
 ravine systematically. Unless I am greatly mis- 
 taken, you will be amply repaid for all your ti'ouble." 
 
 " I will certainly do so, and before you leave the 
 ranch," the captain promised. 
 
 " What's that ? " Bert suddenly asked, pointing 
 towards a long, slim object that was making off 
 over the rocks a dozen yards away. 
 
 " It is an armadillo ! " cried Jack Barnes. " Come 
 on, lad ; we'll catch it! " 
 
 Over the rocks and boulders that lay at the foot 
 of the cliffs they were soon clambering; and in and 
 out among the ferns and bushes. The animal, how- 
 ever, had some feet the start of them, and led them 
 a long chase. 
 
 When they finally came 'up with their victim, it, 
 as is often the case with the armadillo when pur- 
 sued, was using its long, powerful claws to bury 
 itself between two boulders. 
 
 " We've got it!" cried the old sailor, as enthusi- 
 astically as a boy ; and, catching hold of the long 
 tail of the animal, he, with a tremendous pull, 
 swung it high in the air, and then threw it against a 
 rock ten feet away. The blow stunned the beast, 
 and with a shout : 
 
 " Your machete, lad ! Quick ! " Jack rushed 
 down upon his prey. 
 
 " There it is," Bert answered, tossing the weapon 
 down towards the man, who skilfully caught it and 
 transfixed the armadillo between its bony plates. As 
 for the lad, he was interested in something else just 
 then. 
 
 He had heard the conversation between Major 
 Greene and his father about the minerals of the
 
 MAJOR GREENE'S PROPOSAL. 223 
 
 island ; and, attracted by several lumps, the arma- 
 dillo had thrown out in its digging, he was now 
 bending over and examining them. 
 
 " Come on, and help me carry this fellow to the 
 camp, Bert ! " Mr. Barnes was now calling ; and, 
 slipping the pieces he had picked up into his pocket, 
 the lad went to his friend's assistance. 
 
 In a few minutes, bearing their ungainly load 
 between them, and followed by the captain and the 
 major, they reached the hut. 
 
 " JS r ow we'll have some as fine steaks as you ever 
 ate for breakfast," the sailor said ; and, with old 
 Felipe's help, he soon had remo'ved the armor-like 
 coat of the armadillo, and cut from its carcass the 
 long, delicate strips which are regarded by most 
 dwellers in the tropics as a rare tidbit. 
 
 Some of the officers were too fastidious to partake 
 of the flesh of the strange animal; but Major 
 Greene and Bert did not hesitate to eat the crisp 
 and tender steaks, and pronounced them superior 
 to the finest pork. 
 
 Breakfast over, the camp was broken, and soon 
 the cavalcade, with its prisoners, was traveling 
 down the mountain towards the mansion house. In 
 two hours they reached it, and Captain Larkin and 
 Mr. Barnes wero greeted by the assembled peasants 
 with every demonstration of joy. 
 
 In a stout building, near the main dwelling, the 
 bandits were placed with a strong guard to watch 
 over them ; and almost immediately a half-dozen 
 soldiers, under command of a sergeant, and with 
 old Felipe as a guide, were sent over the range to 
 the Swallow plantation to secure Don Jose. 
 
 The squad returned the next day without the 
 plotter ; and Mr. Swallow, who accompanied the 
 men, told a strange story of the schemer's fate. 
 
 After Bert left the Englishman's ranch for his 
 trip across the island, Mrs. Swallow became so
 
 224 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 nervous over the presence of the arch-conspirator 
 in the house that her husband fitted up a stout hut 
 a half-mile from the mansion, and confined the Don 
 there under a strong guard. Night and day two 
 heavily armed men watched over the prisoner. 
 
 Notwithstanding these precautions, however, the 
 sentinels were surprised one night, and Don Jose 
 was carried away. 
 
 The overpowered men had been struck from be- 
 hind by blows that rendered them unconscious, and 
 they could therefore give no description of their 
 assailants. It was consequently believed at first 
 that friends of the imprisoned man had rescued 
 him. 
 
 But before the day was over this view of the 
 event was radically changed. For Don Jose was 
 found hanging from the limb of a huge tree deep 
 in the neighboring forest ; while on his breast 
 was a placard bearing one word in Spanish : 
 " TRAITOR." 
 
 "When Mr. Swallow had related these facts in ex- 
 tensive detail, Captain Larkin exclaimed : 
 
 " That was Juan's the bandit chief's work, and 
 explains why he was gone so long from the rendez- 
 vous. "Where is Sanchez, who was with him, and 
 who guided you to the gorge, Major ? Have him 
 brought here ; he doubtless can give us some light 
 on this terrible affair." 
 
 The fellow, though not confined with the other 
 members of the robber gang, had been kept under 
 strict surveillance, and was soon found. 
 
 He confessed that Juan and he had released Don 
 Jose and hung him to the tree. 
 
 " That was our first work after leaving the en- 
 campment," he said. " "We hung around Swallow's 
 ranch until we had located the place of the Span- 
 iard's confinement, and then, watching for a favor- 
 able opportunity, secured him. Don Jose knew us,
 
 MAJOR GREENE'S PROPOSAL. 225 
 
 and thought that we came as his friends. Juan, 
 however, soon dispelled that notion, and the noble 
 begged piteously for his life, promising anything 
 and everything if we would only let him go. But 
 Juan was inexorable, and, after charging him with 
 his perfidy, strung him up on the gum tree. Then 
 we went down to Humacao to settle scores with 
 Colonel Luzares, but found he had gone to the 
 southern part of the island. We were on our re- 
 turn to the rendezvous when captured by the 
 Americans." 
 
 The man recited the horrible tale without the 
 slightest emotion, and did not seem to realize that 
 he had shown some of Don Jose's traitorous spirit 
 in his own betrayal of his fellow-robbers. 
 
 " I believe I should serve you right, Sanchez," 
 Captain Larkin now said (for he had been told that 
 the man had agreed to leave his fate to him), if I 
 should turn you over to your comrades, and tell 
 them what you, of your own free will, offered to 
 do in hopes of saving your own miserable neck 
 from the halter." 
 
 The fellow gave a ghastly grin, but said nothing. 
 
 " What shall I do with him, Major ? " asked the 
 captain, turning to that officer, who sat near him. 
 
 " Why not state the facts at the trial, and leave 
 the mitigation of his sentence to the discretion of 
 the court," he suggested in low tones. 
 
 " I will," returned the captain, greatly relieved at 
 this solution of the perplexing question. 
 
 As Sanchez had kept well in the background 
 when the glen had been invaded, his fellow-bandits 
 knew nothing of the part he had played in that 
 raid. There was also no likelihood of his informing 
 them of what he had done, so he was now confined 
 with the rest of the captured gang. 
 
 In due time all were turned over to the local 
 authorities of that district, and, in connection with
 
 226 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 the four who were at the fortress in Humacao, at 
 length received a merited punishment for their evil 
 career. Sanchez, in the opinion of the court, had 
 done nothing to mitigate his sentence, and so suf- 
 fered with the rest. But the two innocent messen- 
 gers who, with Bert, had been condemned as 
 members of the band, were speedily released. 
 
 Before Major Greene could report to his com- 
 majiding officer the results of his expedition, the 
 protocol between the United States and Spain had 
 been agreed upon, and all hostilities in the island 
 ceased. 
 
 There was no need, therefore, for the American 
 troops to return to the vicinity of Coamo ; and 
 orders soon came for the major to occupy the fort- 
 ress at Humacao ; nor was it very long before he 
 became the military governor of that district under 
 General Henry, who was placed in charge of the 
 southern half of the island. * 
 
 Before the orders came for the officer to proceed 
 to Humacao, however, the prospecting tour up the 
 gorge had, as Captain Larkin promised, been made. 
 Nor did they undertake that trip without a good 
 knowledge of what the result would be. For no 
 sooner was the expedition suggested, than Bert 
 produced the heavy lumps he had picked up in the 
 armadillo hole, and asked : 
 
 " Major Greene, what do you call those ? " 
 
 " Nuggets ! " exclaimed the officer excitedly. 
 " Where did you get them ? " 
 
 The lad explained ; and to that spot the three 
 men Captain Larkin, Major Greene, and Mr. 
 Barnes and the boy went on the following day. 
 Their search was entirety satisfactor} T , and all were 
 convinced that the precious metal existed in the 
 ravine in rich veins. 
 
 This discovery led to new plans for the magnifi- 
 cent estate. It was Major Greene himself who made
 
 MAJOR GREENE'S PROPOSAL. 227 
 
 the proposal. He had come over from Humacao, 
 which had now become his headquarters, for a brief 
 visit with his friends. 
 
 " Captain Larkin," he said, as they all sat on the 
 broad veranda of the mansion-house, " I have a 
 proposition I wish to submit to you. I make it be- 
 cause I believe it will, on careful reflection, 1 strike 
 you favorably." 
 
 " I shall be glad to hear any proposition you have 
 to make," responded Captain Larkm, courteously. 
 
 " "Well," the officer went on, " I take it that, with 
 Bert in the States the greater, part of each year 
 
 getting his education, you will not care to be tied 
 own here as you have been for the last seven or 
 eight years. Why not then form a stock company 
 among your friends for the complete development 
 of this splendid property its crops, its timbers, its 
 minerals ? Of course you will be at its head, and 
 the principal owner; but with other interested 
 stockholders it will be possible for you to run over 
 to the mainland as often as you choose. Besides 
 that, no one man can develop the estate as it is 
 capable of development ; while under a company 
 every branch of industry possible to these vast acres 
 planting, mining, and manufacturing may be 
 successfully carried on. What say you '( " 
 
 " That idea is not a new one to me," replied the 
 captain; "but where shall I find my partners, 
 Major? " 
 
 "Why, here is Barnes the most valuable man 
 possible next to yourself. Then I thought of Loomis 
 of Montville ; he's a square man, and an enterprising 
 one too. Bert can tell you all about him. I hope 
 also that I may be lucky enough to find a wee corner 
 in the venture. We shall have no trouble to find 
 others who will join us. I may say here that as I'm 
 only in the volunteer service my regiment will be 
 ordered home as soon as the island is formally
 
 228 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 transferred to our government. Why not think this 
 matter over, and, if it meets your favor, go home 
 with me and complete the arrangements for the 
 company there ? " 
 
 " I shall not stop a moment to give you my an- 
 swer," responded Captain Larkin, " I shall do it ; 
 and here and now I engage you as my attorney to 
 form such a stock company as you propose, and in 
 which I want you to have a good share. Jack, of 
 course, is to be included, and such other friends as 
 Ave may deem wisest on our arrival in the States. I 
 shall immediately make arrangements also to accom- 
 pany you home when you go." 
 
 Old Felipe and his young nephew Benito were 
 secured as head-gefes for the estate ; and, as 
 Mr. Swallow consented to ride over occasionally 
 and advise with them in the management of the 
 property, it was expected all would go well during 
 the temporary absence of both Captain Larkin and 
 Mr. Barnes. For the old sailor, for reasons of his 
 own, was as anxious to return to the States as any 
 of his comrades. 
 
 So one bright morning in October over a year 
 since Bert left Montville all found themselves on 
 board the transport Chester homeward bound.
 
 AUNT MARY'S SURPRISE. 229 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 AUNT MARY'S SURPRISE. 
 
 IT is a clear, crisp, moonlight evening near the 
 last of October. Miss Wheeler is sitting before a 
 wood-fire in the little parlor of the vine-clad cottage 
 at Montville, looking scarcely a day older than when 
 we last looked in upon her more than a year ago. 
 
 The sad tidings of the sinking of the steamer 
 Alhambra came to her, causing her great anxiety, it 
 is true ; but, like Captain Larkin and Mr. Barnes, 
 she, as one bit of news after another reached her, 
 steadfastly refused to believe that Bert was dead ; 
 and that hope kept her from being crushed bv what, 
 to one of less faith, would have been an overwhelm- 
 ing blow. 
 
 Then came the cablegram from Nassau telling 
 her that Bert was indeed alive ; followed by hislono- 
 letter, giving in detail his experiences as a castaway^ 
 and his arrangements for joining his father in Porto 
 Rico. 
 
 She kept both messages in her work-basket, and, 
 showing them to every caller, complacently re- 
 marked : 
 
 " Now that is what faith does. I always told you 
 that the boy was alive. I believed it way down in 
 my heart, and here is the reward ! All things are 
 possible to him that believeth ! It wasn't that cork- 
 jacket that carried the lad to that island ; it was 
 faith. It wasn't chance that sent those spongers 
 there to rescue him ; it was faith. He is with his
 
 230 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 father before no\v, and I am happy in their hap- 
 piness ; but even their joy and mine springs from 
 faith." 
 
 Two months and more elapsed before she received 
 any further tidings ; but she always had her own 
 explanation of that long silence. 
 
 " Why Sampson has shut up the harbor of San 
 Juan so tight even a letter can't slip through. Just 
 wait until our soldier boys have taken the island, 
 then I shall hear from Bert again." 
 
 In August her faith was again rewarded. A long 
 letter came from the lad, admitting there had been 
 some unpleasant experiences with some lawless fel- 
 lows in the Anvil region, but. thanks to Major 
 Greene and his men, the disturbance was over, and 
 he and his father and Mr. Barnes were happy in 
 each other's company and busy with their plantation 
 duties. 
 
 " I will give you the full details about it all when 
 I come home, auntie," he wrote ; " and you will 
 enjoy it more because you hear it from my own 
 lips." 
 
 Other letters came in September and October, but 
 not one said anything definite about the lad's home- 
 coming. She concluded, therefore, that he would 
 remain with his father until another spring. Noth- 
 ing, in fact, w y as farther from her thoughts than that 
 she was to see her nephew that fall. 
 
 She was all alone, too ; for Sue Braddock had gone 
 out to call on a sick neighbor. But though alone, 
 she was not lonely far from it. Her thoughts were 
 her companions, and they were just then exceedingly 
 agreeable. 
 
 She may not have cared to have made known 
 those thoughts, but we may form some idea of them 
 from the tiny piece of paper she held in her hand 
 or rather the writing that was on the scrap. 
 
 It had been tucked in with Bert's last letter was
 
 AUNT MARY'S SURPRISE. 231 
 
 but a line yet it was the source of all her pleasant 
 reflections. It read : 
 
 " Miss WHEELER, 
 
 " Jack is willing, and is coming home when the 
 lad does as he promised. 
 
 " JOHN BARNES." 
 
 Some one has said : " Loved ones are always near- 
 est when we are thinking of them." It may not 
 always be literally true ; but it was so now. 
 
 The stage from Flanders Depot came creaking 
 down the street, it stopped before the house, and 
 wondering who had come, she arose, went to the 
 window, and, raising the curtain looked out. 
 
 There was the carriage sure enough ; and in the 
 light of the full moon she could distinctly see two 
 men and a lad alighting. Two of the forms she 
 had no difficulty in recognizing, and readily guessed 
 who the other was though it had been long years 
 since she had seen him. Bert, his father, and Mr. 
 Barnes had come. 
 
 The next hour seemed like a dream. She never 
 could tell just how she got the door open ; nor how 
 her guests came in ; nor how she greeted them. 
 She only knew that they were there ; that two of 
 them had certainly put their arms about her and 
 kissed her ; and she had a suspicion that the third 
 one did the same. Whenever she looked at Mr. 
 Barnes, however, he looked so innocently at her 
 she could not find it in her heart to accuse him of 
 having followed the example of her nephew and 
 brother-in-law, lest she should wrong him. 
 
 All at once she sprang from her cha'ir, exclaiming 
 as naturally as if Bert had just come in from the 
 store or mill : * 
 
 " Good land, Bert Larkin ! I haven't got you a 
 bit of a supper ! " and despite the declaration of all
 
 232 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 the newcomers that they had taken supper at the 
 hotel over at Flanders, and did not care for another, 
 she flew out into the kitchen to set the table. 
 
 Miss Braddock returned at that moment, and with 
 her help the meal was soon ready. 
 
 Bert had been perfectly honest when he declared 
 he did not care for any supper ; but when he looked 
 upon the tempting viands, prepared by his aunt's 
 own hand, the old familiar sight actually made him 
 hungry, and he was soon eating with the relish of 
 bygone days. His father and the old sailor were 
 not slow to imitate him, and all were doing a justice 
 to Miss Wheeler's cookery that delighted her heart. 
 
 " I tell you, ma'am," Mr. Barnes said when he left 
 the table, " I haven't eaten anything so good since 
 I went from here thirteen months ago. I not only 
 believe you are the best nurse, but the best cook on 
 earth. Any man would be lucky to call you his 
 own." 
 
 There was altogether too much earnestness in his 
 tones for any one to doubt his sincerity, and the 
 blush that came to Miss Wheeler's cheek showed 
 that she realized the man was speaking out of his 
 heart and with no intention of flattery. 
 
 But both Captain Larkin and Bert long since 
 knew Jack's real feelings for their relative ; and 
 were, therefore, in nowise surprised when a few 
 weeks later he announced that Miss Wheeler had 
 consented to become Mrs. Barnes before he returned 
 to the island. 
 
 With that consent she must have also dropped all 
 dread of the sea ; for the arrangements between 
 the pair included her accompanying her husband to 
 the ranch at such times as his duties compelled him 
 to make that his dwelling-place. 
 
 The day following his arrival home Bert went up 
 street to meet some of his old friends. Almost the 
 first one he saw was Sam Thompson. He stared at
 
 AUNT MARY'S SURPRISE. 233 
 
 the lad for a moment, and then ran across the street, 
 asking : 
 
 " I say, Bert, did Cousin Jack come home with 
 you ? " 
 
 "Yes, and my father also," the newcomer as- 
 serted, scarcely able to repress a smile. 
 
 He was amused that young Thompson's first 
 thought and only question centered upon his distant 
 relative. 
 
 " Where is he ? " was the next hurried question. 
 
 "At the cottage." 
 
 " Isn't he coming to see us." 
 
 " Perhaps so ; but of course he wanted to see 
 Aunt Mary first," said Bert, mischievously. 
 
 " I don't see what for," snapped Sam. " You and 
 your dad have got money enough without your try- 
 ing to keep Cousin Jack's from us." 
 
 This was too much even for Bert's good-nature. 
 
 " We have no desire for Mr. Barnes' property," 
 he retorted, sarcastically ; " and he can do as he 
 sees fit with it. But in my opinion if you and your 
 folks showed a little less anxiety about getting it, 
 it would, to say the least, be more creditable to 
 yourselves, and improve your chances of obtaining 
 it," and having delivered this homely truth he 
 walked on. 
 
 The next friend he met was, as it happened, Bill 
 Ecclestone, who greeted him cordially, and asked 
 when he had returned. Then he said enthusiasti- 
 cally, 
 
 " What a jolly set of adventures you have had 
 since you went away, Bert! Your aunt has let me 
 see some of the letters you sent her. But why can't 
 you get a lot of us fellows together some day, and 
 tell us all about it ? We should like to hear the 
 whole story from your lips." 
 
 "Perhaps it will be better to write it out and 
 publish, it," responded Bert, jokingly.
 
 234 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 " Of course it would," agreed Bill in earnest ; and 
 then the two lads parted, neither one realizing they 
 had given one who overheard their conversation a 
 suggestion that would soon materialize into a real 
 fact. 
 
 A five-minutes' walk brought our young hero to 
 the house of Mr. Loomis. He found 'Ned at home, 
 and soon the two friends were busy, not so much 
 talking over what Bert had passed through since 
 last they met, as planning for the future. For, 
 making a confidant of Ned, Bert told him of the 
 intention to form a company to develop the great 
 resources of the island plantation. 
 
 " Your father will be invited to become a stock- 
 holder," he explained, " and, if he accepts, it is my 
 father's idea that you and I be specially trained in 
 some Polytechnic Institute for the management of 
 the varied industries which will soon be established 
 on the ranch." 
 
 It is hardly necessary to say that Mr. Loomis 
 accepted the invitation given him ; and in a short 
 time Major Greene had organized " The Anvil 
 Kanch & Mining Company of Porto Eico," in which 
 Captain Larkin, John Barnes, Mr. Loomis, himself, 
 and six other gentlemen of wealth and business abil- 
 ity were the members. And before many months 
 under this new arrangement the broad acres, the 
 fertile valleys, and even the mountain sides of the 
 Great Anvil will be humming with activity. 
 
 With the departure of Mr. and Mrs. Barnes for 
 the ranch, the vine-clad cottage was closed, and 
 Bert, when out of school, divides his time about 
 equally between what he calls his " two homes in 
 the States " that of the Loomises in Montville, and 
 of Major Greene in Goodport. 
 
 Some say he is a little more partial to the Greene 
 home, but "this Bert stoutly denies. He says : 
 
 "Ned Loomis is my best boy-friend, and Ella
 
 AUNT MARY'S SURPRISE. 235 
 
 Greene mv best girl-friend, and I love to be with 
 them both"." 
 
 Captain Larkin remained in the States until after 
 the holidays, and then returned to the island. But 
 it is his purpose to run across to the mainland every 
 few months to see his boy ; while during the long 
 summer vacation Bert and his friend Ned will De at 
 the ranch to keep in touch with its business life. 
 
 In this way both the technical and practical sides 
 of their life-career will be equally developed ; and 
 in due time they will doubtless become the chief 
 managers of the industries under the Great Anvil. 
 
 THE END.
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AT LONG VIEW. 
 
 LITTLE Jack Wilson had been born in England, 
 but when he was quite a baby his parents had sailed 
 across the sea, taking him with them, and settled 
 out on one of the distant prairies of America. Of 
 course, Jack was too small when he left to remem- 
 ber anything of England himself, but as he grew 
 older, he liked to hear his father and mother talk 
 about the old country where he and they had been 
 born, and to which they still seemed to cling with 
 great affection. Sometimes, as they looked out of 
 doors over the burnt-up prairie round their new 
 home, his father would tell him about the trim green 
 fields they had left so far behind them, and say with 
 a sigh, " Old England was like a garden, but this 
 place is nothing but a wilderness ! " 
 
 Longview was the name of the lonely western 
 village where George Wilson, his wife, and Jack 
 had lived for eight years, and although we should 
 not have thought it a particularly nice place, they 
 were very happy there. Longview was half way 
 between two large mining towns, sixty miles apart, 
 236
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 237 
 
 and as there was no railway in those parts, the peo- 
 ple going to and from the different mines were 
 obliged to travel by wagons, and often halted for a 
 night at Longview to break the journey. 
 
 It was a very hot and dusty village in summer, as 
 there were no trees to give pleasant shade from the 
 sun, and the staring rows of wooden houses that 
 formed the streets had no gardens in front to make 
 them look pretty. In winter it was almost worse, 
 for the cold winds came sweeping down from 
 the distant mountains and rushed shrieking across 
 the plains towards the unprotected village. They 
 whirled the snow into clouds, making big drifts, and 
 w r histled round the frame houses as if threatening to 
 blow them right away. 
 
 Jack was used to it. however, and in spite of the 
 heat and cold, was a happy little lad. His parents 
 had come to America, in the first place, because 
 times were so bad in England, and secondly, be- 
 cause Mrs. Wilson's only sister had emigrated 
 many years before them to Longview, and had been 
 so anxious to have her relations near her. 
 
 Aunt Sue, as Jack called her, had married very 
 young, and accompanied her husband, Mat Byrne, 
 to the west. He was a miner, and when he worked 
 got good wages ; but he was an idle, thriftless fel- 
 low, who soon got into disfavor with his emploj'ers, 
 and a year or two after the Wilsons came he took 
 to drink, and made sad trouble for his wife and his 
 three boys. George Wilson had expostulated with 
 him often, and begged him to be more steady, but 
 Mat was jealous of his honest brother-in-law, who 
 worked so hard and was fairly comfortable, and 
 therefore he resented the kind words of advice, and 
 George was obliged to leave him alone. 
 
 George Wilson made his living by freighting ; 
 that is, carrying goods from place to place by 
 wagons, as there was no rail by which to send things.
 
 238 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 Sometimes, when he took extra long journeys, he 
 would have to leave his wife and boy for some 
 weeks to keep each other company. 
 
 " Take care of your mother, Jack, my boy," he 
 would say, before starting. She has no man to look 
 after her or do things for her but ye till I get 
 home," and right well did the little fellow obey 
 orders. He was a most helpful boy for his age, and 
 was devoted to his mother, who was far from strong. 
 He got up early every morning, and did what are 
 called the chores ; those are all the small daily jobs 
 that have to be done in and around a house. 
 First, he chopped wood and lit a fire in the stove ; 
 then he carried water in a bucket and filled the ket- 
 tle, and while the water was trying to boil he laid 
 the breakfast table and ground the coffee. 
 
 When breakfast was over, he ran off to school, 
 and afterwards had many a good romp with his 
 cousins, Steve, Hal, and Larry Byrne, who lived 
 quite close to his home. Jack was very fond of his 
 Aunt Sue ; she was so like his gentle mother. He 
 often ran in to see her, but he always fled when he 
 heard his Uncle Mat coming, whose loud rough 
 voice frightened him. 
 
 Jack was very sorry for his cousins, as they did 
 not seem to care a bit for their father ; indeed, at 
 times they were very much afraid of him, and Steve, 
 the eldest, who was a big fellow nearly sixteen, told 
 Jack that if it wasn't for his mother, he would run 
 away from home and go off to be a cowboy, instead 
 of working as a miner with his father. But he 
 knew what a sad trouble it would be to the poor 
 woman if he went away from her, and he was too 
 good a son to give her pain. 
 
 When his father was away freighting, Jack, even 
 while he was at play, kept a good lookout across 
 the prairie every day watching for his return. He 
 could see for miles, and when he spied the white top
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 239 
 
 of the familiar wagon appearing in the distance, he 
 would rush home shouting, " Mother, Mother 
 Daddy's coming! I see the wagon ever such along 
 way off," and then the two would get to work and 
 prepare a nice supper for him. 
 
 Jack could help his father, too, when he arrived 
 home, for there were four tired horses to unharness, 
 and water, and feed. Jack knew them all well ; 
 Buck and Jerry in front as leaders, and Rufus and 
 Billy harnessed to the wagon. George Wilson was 
 very proud of his horses, and they certainly had a 
 good master, for he always looked after them first, 
 and saw them comfortably into their stable before 
 he began his own supper. 
 
 Trouble, however, was dawning over the happy 
 household. The life in the hot village had never 
 suited Mrs. "Wilson, and it told on her more as time 
 went on. She looked white and thin, and felt so 
 tired and weary if she did any work, that her hus- 
 band got alarmed, and brought in a doctor to see 
 her. The doctor frightened him still more. He 
 said the place was slowly killing her, as the air was 
 so close and hot. 
 
 " You must take her away at once," he said, 
 emphatically, " if you want to save her life. She 
 has been here too long, I fear, as it is. Go away to 
 the mountains and try the bracing air up there ; 
 she may come back quite strong after a year there, 
 if she avoids all unnecessary fatigue. Take my ad- 
 vice, go as soon as you can ; there's no time to lose ! " 
 
 These words came as an awful shock to George 
 Wilson, who had no idea his wife was so ill, and 
 had hoped a few bottles of tonic from the doctor 
 would restore her failing strength. But the medical 
 warning could not be disregarded, and he could see 
 for himself now how fast she was wasting away. 
 They must go away from Long view as soon as pos- 
 sible.
 
 240 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 It was a sad thing for the Wilsons to think of 
 breaking up their home, but there was no help for 
 it. They talked matters well over, and came at 
 last to the conclusion that it would be better not to 
 take Jack with them. They would be probably 
 moving on from place to place, and in a year he 
 would forget all he had learnt at school. After a 
 long consultation with Aunt Sue, it was arranged 
 that Jack should stay at the Byrnes' house, and 
 keep on at his lessons ; his Uncle Mat having given 
 his consent after hearing the "Wilsons would pay 
 well for his keep. 
 
 George Wilson and his wife felt keenly the idea 
 of leaving Jack, and it was agreed that if they de- 
 cided to stay in the mountains altogether, some one 
 should be found who would take the boy to them. 
 
 It was terrible breaking the news to poor little 
 Jack that his parents were going away from him, 
 and for a time he was quite inconsolable. His 
 father talked very kindly and quietly to him, and at 
 last made him see that the arrangement was really 
 all for the best. 
 
 " Ye see, Jack ! " he said, " the doctor says your 
 mother is seriously ill, an' the only chance for her 
 is to take her off to the mountains." 
 
 " Can't I go too, Daddy ? '' pleaded Jack, with 
 tears in his eyes. " I'll do such lots o' work." 
 
 " I^o, my lad ; it won't do fur ye to miss yer 
 schoolin', as } r e'd be bound to do if ye came wanderin' 
 about with us. It's only fur a year, so ye must try 
 an' be a brave boy an' stay with yer good Aunt Sue 
 until we come back agin or send fur ye. We know 
 what's best fur ye, an', laddie, won't it be fine if 
 Mother gets strong and well agin ? " 
 
 u Aye, Dad ! That would be grand ! " said Jack, 
 brightening up. 
 
 " Well, it's a sad partin' fur us all ; but there's 
 nothin' else to be done, an' ye must try an' keep up
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 
 
 a good heart fur yer mother's sake, as I doubt she'll 
 fret sadly o'er leavin' ye." 
 
 Jack promised to be brave, but there was a 
 troubled look on his usually bright face as he watched 
 the rapid preparations going on for the departure. 
 The things had to be sold out of the house, as they 
 could not take much with them. The sale at first 
 excited Jack, as so many people came to buy ; but 
 when he saw their furniture, beds, chairs, and tables 
 all being carried off by strangers, he realized fully 
 what the breaking up of his home meant, and it 
 made him feel very sad. 
 
 There was a lot to be done. Jack went with his 
 father to buy a stock of provisions for their long 
 journey, and then they tried to make the clumsy 
 wagon as comfortable as possible for the sick mother. 
 Aunt Sue packed up, as her sister was so Aveak, and 
 the trial of leaving Jack was proving almost too much 
 for her slender stock of strength. All the same, she 
 bravely tried to hide the pain the parting gave her, 
 and for her boy's sake tried to be cheerful even to 
 the last. 
 
 Alone with Aunt Sue she opened her heart, and 
 received true sympathy in her trouble from that good 
 woman, who knew well that the chief sorrow to 
 her sister was the fear she might never see her 
 little lad again. 
 
 " You mustn't get so downhearted, Maggie," said 
 Mrs. Byrne, kindly ; " but hope for the best. I have 
 heard the air in the mountains is just wonderful to 
 cure cases like yours, and perhaps ye'll get quite 
 strong afore long." 
 
 " If it pleases God," said her sister, gently. "And 
 now, Sue, ye'll promise me to look well after Jack. 
 I know ye're fond o' him fur his own sake as well as 
 mine : but I'm feared if Mat gets one o' his mad fits 
 on, he might treat him badly." 
 
 " Don't you fear, Maggie," returned Mrs. Byrne, 
 16
 
 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 soothingly, " I'll treat him as one o' my boys, 
 an' ye know I manage to keep them out o' their 
 father's way when he's too quarrelsome. Besides, 
 Mat knows asye're payin' well for Jack, and that, 
 if naught else, will keep him civil to the lad." 
 
 " I hope so," murmured the mother, sadly, " an' 
 if all goes well, we'll have our boy with us again in 
 a year." 
 
 "Aye, a yea-r'll go quick enough, never fear!" 
 concluded her sister, cheerfully, " an' Jack'll get on 
 iinely at his schoolin' in that time." 
 
 The night before they started came, and Jack, 
 who had gone early to bed, lay sobbing quietly to 
 himself, quite unable to go to sleep. Before long 
 his mother came softly into the room and stood be- 
 side him. She noticed the flushed, tear-stained face 
 on the pillow, and exclaimed in a grieved voice, 
 " Oh, Jack, darling ! Don't take on so ! It'll 
 break my heart if I think o' ye frettin' all the time." 
 
 " I can't help it, Mother ! " cried Jack. " "What 
 shall I do without Dad an' ye ? " 
 
 " Ye must think o' the meeting ahead, dearie. 
 P'raps if Daddy does well in this new part of the 
 country, an' I can get strong again, we may make 
 our home up near the grand mountains as ye've 
 never seen. It's so different from this hot prairie, 
 fur there are big trees to shade ye from the sun, an' 
 little brooks, called creeks, running down the sides 
 of the hills." 
 
 " Aye, I'd like to go an' live up thar," cried Jack. 
 " I hope you'll send fur me soon, an' I'll try an' be 
 good. I do love Aunt Sue, but I'm scared o' Uncle 
 Mat at times." 
 
 " Never fear, Jack," said his mother, putting her 
 arms round him, " Aunt Sue'll see as ye come to 
 no harm. But, oh ! dearie, how I wish I could take 
 ye with me," and the poor woman broke down and 
 mingled her tears with Jack's.
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 43 
 
 But the boy suddenly remembered his promise to 
 his father, a*id, knowing how bad the excitement 
 was for his mother, he made a great effort to stop 
 crying, and, rubbing his tears away, he said : 
 " Mother ! this won't do ; I promised Dad I'd be 
 brave ! " 
 
 " You're right, Jack. We mustn't give way 
 again. I ought to have kept up better. I must be 
 goin' now, dearie, an' before I say good night, will 
 ye promise me not to forget to say yer prayers 
 every day, an' ask God to take care of us all till we 
 meet again ? " 
 
 " I promise," said Jack, gravely. 
 
 " An' ye'Jl sing the hymns I've taught ye, some- 
 times, won't ye, laddie ? " asked his mother, softly. 
 
 " I won't forget," returned Jack, as he kissed her 
 wet cheek, and then she went away with a feeling 
 of comfort in her heavy heart. 
 
 " A year isn't so very long," murmured the boy 
 to himself, and before long fell asleep. 
 
 Next morning his parents started, and Jack, after 
 the terrible good-bys had been said, stood watch- 
 ing the retreating wagon until it became like a 
 speck in the distance. At last it vanished alto- 
 
 f ether, and then the boy's loss seemed to overwhelm 
 im. In a frenzy of grief he rushed off to the wood- 
 shed, and wept as if his heart would break. 
 
 But Aunt Sue guessed the tumult of sorrow that 
 was going on in the young heart, and she soon 
 came to find him and offer comfort. She was so 
 like his clear mother with her sweet voice and gentle 
 manner, that she soothed him in his trouble ; and 
 when she proposed he should help her to get the 
 house brushed out and tidied up, he gladly threw 
 himself into the work. 
 
 He was helping his aunt to lay the things on the 
 table when his uncle came in. He had not seen the 
 boy before, and even he felt a bit sorry for the poor
 
 244 A YANKEE LAITS PLUCK. 
 
 lad, so lie said not ungraciously. ** That's right, Sue, 
 make him usefuL There's notbin' so good far sick 
 hearts as *" 
 
 Poor Jack flushed at this speech, as it touched him 
 on a sore point ; bat he saw his uncle did not intend 
 to Lori Lis feelings by the words, and he tried to 
 shallow tLe lamp that would rise in his throat. 
 TLe i tree boys came in for supper, and Hal and 
 Larry looked curiously to see how Jack was taking 
 his trouble; but be was determined they should see 
 no sign of tears from him. and they did not suspect 
 that the little heart was nearly bursting. 
 
 Sfoeve was a most good-natured lad, rough to look 
 at, but with a large slice of his mothers kind heart, 
 and he now looked quietly after Jack, seeing that 
 he had a good supper. He was very fond of his 
 small cousin, who in return was devoted to him, 
 and the big boy felt sorry when he noticed the 
 effort Jack was "making to keep up a brave face 
 before Hal and Larry. 
 
 Very soon Aunt Sue suggested he should go to 
 bed, which be was glad to do, and once there, he 
 was so tired out with his grief he fell fast asleep.
 
 LEFT OX THE PRAIRIE. -_:. 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 JACK IX TROUBLE. 
 
 OVER a year had passed away since Jack's parents 
 had left Long-view for the mountains, and the boy 
 was just nine and a half ; bat he was no longer the 
 same happy little fellow as when we first knew 
 him. Great changes for the worse had taken place, 
 and misfortunes came thick and fast upon him. 
 
 He lost his good Aunt Sue, for she died, ten 
 months after his parents' departure, of heart HJafms^ 
 How poor Jack missed her ! His uncle very soon, 
 afterwards married again, and his new wife was & 
 loud-voiced, harsh woman, who treated Jack most 
 unkindly. 
 
 Steve, too, his great friend, had gone away, as 
 he had long threatened, to be a cowboy, for he 
 found the life at home unbearable without his 
 mother. Hal and Larry, who had not improved as 
 they grew older, took good care to keep away from, 
 the house, except for meals ; and thus Jack," as the 
 youngest, had to bear the brunt of everything. He 
 no longer went to school, for his uncle's wife wanted 
 him to wash floors, carry water, and go endless 
 errands for her. Every morning and evening he 
 had to look for a Roame," the cow, who was given 
 to wandering off on the prairie for long distances, 
 searching for better pasture. When he nad driven 
 her home he had to milk her, and if he chanced to 
 be late getting her in, he was severely scolded, and 
 oftentimes deprived of his supper.
 
 246 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 It was a hard life for the little lad, and many a 
 night he sobbed himself to sleep as he thought sadly 
 of the happy days before his parents left him. 
 
 There was another thought troubling him, and 
 that was, Why hadn't his people sent jor him, as 
 they promised f Was it possible that they had for- 
 gotten him, or meant to leave him for years with 
 Uncle Mat ? 
 
 It was dreadful to think about, but there was no 
 getting over the facts of the case, and Jack knew 
 right well that it was long past the time they had 
 said he should be away from them. Only one year ! 
 He remembered it as if it were but yesterday, but 
 not even a message had come for him. He could 
 not understand it, and his heart felt sad and sore as 
 he often crept away to escape his uncle's drunken 
 wrath or the wife's cruel blows. 
 
 One evening he could not find " Roanie " for 
 nearly two hours, and when he got home, tired and 
 hungry, he found Mrs. Byrne in a bad temper. She 
 gave him a little dry bread for supper, and anxious 
 to get away from her tongue, Jack: stole off across 
 the prairie for some way, where, lying on the short, 
 burnt-up grass, he gave vent to his misery, and, 
 burying his head in his hands, had a good cry. 
 
 Suddenly he heard the sound of horse's hoofs ap- 
 proaching him, and a great jingling of spurs as 
 some one dashed up close to him and stopped ab- 
 ruptly. Jack looked up, and was surprised to see 
 his cousin Steve, looking very smart and happy. 
 
 " Hello, young 'un ! " he cried, jumping off his 
 horse. " I thought it was you, so I turned off the 
 prairie road to see. What's the trouble? You'll 
 drown every one in Longview if you cry so hard." 
 
 Jack sat up and wiped his streaming eyes with 
 his sleeve. " Oh, Steve ! " he exclaimed, " I'm so 
 unhapp3 T . I'm glad you've come, for they're so un- 
 kind to me, and I'm beginning to doubt as Father
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 247 
 
 and Mother have forgot me. They've never sent 
 for me." 
 
 "Don't fret. Jack," said Steve; "they haven't 
 forgot you, never fear. D'you know," he went on 
 slowly, " I've found out as they sent for you long 
 ago, an' he'll not let you go ! " Steve nodded to- 
 wards his home. 
 
 " He ! " repeated Jack, in astonishment, " Uncle 
 ]\Iat ! Why, he hates me, Steve, an' I guess he'd be 
 only too glad to get rid o' me." 
 
 " Not he," returned Steve. " You're better than 
 a servant to that woman, for she'd never get any 
 one to work as hard as you, an' she ain't a-goin' to 
 let you leave. I heard a tale from Long Jim Tay- 
 lor as worked in the mine with Father, an' it's that 
 as brought me home now. Father was drunk one 
 day, an' let out about a mean trick as he played on 
 your folks, an' you, too, for the matter o' that ; an' 
 tho' he denied it afterwards, I'm sure it's true, an' 
 I'll talk my mind to him afore I'm done." 
 
 Steve looked so furious, Jack felt almost fright- 
 ened as he asked, timidly, " What was it, Steve ? 
 Tell me what he has done." 
 
 " Well, then, kid, listen ! " said the cowboy. " He 
 never wrote to say Mother was dead, but gave your 
 folks to understand as it was you as was buried ; 
 said as how you'd had a bad fall an' died terrible 
 sudden, an' tlaere was no time to get 'em over." 
 
 Jack's eyes had grown rounder and larger with 
 horrified surprise as he listened to Steve's story. 
 
 " How wicked of .him ! " he cried. " But, Steve, 
 I wonder he wasn't afraid o' their hearin' about it." 
 
 "Aye ! and so do I," answered his cousin. " I be- 
 lieve, however, he has been meanin' to move to some 
 other part o' the country an' take you. Your folks 
 are settled a long way off, an' thinkin' as you're 
 dead, they'll probably never come back here again, 
 so he'd be pretty safe."
 
 24:8 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 " "What shall I do, Steve?" asked Jack, piteously. 
 " I'll ask Uncle Mat about it this very night." 
 
 " Don't make him angry," returned the cowboy, 
 kindly ; " but tell him you have heard what he's 
 done, an' you are bound to go to your folks some- 
 how. I'll tell him what I think when I meet him 
 in the street. I ain't a-goin' near that house with 
 that woman there, so if you want to see me, come 
 here to morrow evening." 
 
 " I will, Steve. Good night," and Jack darted 
 away. 
 
 Jack felt very brave and determined when he left 
 his cousin, but his courage failed a little as he ap- 
 proached the house. The door was open, and as he 
 drew near he heard his uncle and his wife talking 
 loudly, and caught his own name. 
 
 " I'm not such a fool as to let Jack go back to 
 them," he heard his uncle say, " in spite o' what 
 Jim Taylor wrote sayin' he'd told Steve, an' the lad 
 was so angry he was comin' over to make things 
 right for Jack. The boy's worth fifty cents a day 
 to us, an '11 make more afore long ; so the sooner 
 we clear out o' here the better, an' make for a part 
 o' the country where we ain't known. I guess we 
 needn't let Steve into the secret o' our whereabouts, 
 if we can get off afore he comes." 
 
 Jack's pulses were beating fast as he listened to 
 this speech. He shook with indignation, and at 
 last, unable to stand it any longer, he rushed into 
 the kitchen, exclaiming, " Uncle Mat, I heard what 
 you were sayin', an' I must go to my folks. I 
 thought as they'd forgot me, an' now I know they 
 haven't, but you've told 'em a lie." 
 
 A look almost of fear crossed the man's face at 
 first when Jack burst in, but it was quickly replaced 
 by a hard and cruel smile. 
 
 " Listenin' ! were you ? " he said angrily. " Well, 
 listeners hear no good o' theinsel's, an' it's a mighty
 
 LEFT ON THE PEAIRIE. 249 
 
 bad habit to give way to. Perhaps a touch o' the 
 whip will make you forget what wasn't meant for 
 you to hear." 
 
 " Oh ! don't beat me, please, Uncle Mat," cried 
 poor Jack. 
 
 But there was no mercy to be had this time, and 
 when his punishment was over, Jack, quite ex- 
 hausted, made his way to his miserable bed, which 
 was in a shed adjoining the house. Through the 
 thin wooden walls he could hear the two Byrnes 
 talking and planning to leave Longview as soon as 
 possible, and he felt sick with fright as he heard 
 them arrange to take him too. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! " murmured the boy sadly, 
 " what will become o' me ? If Steve don't save me, 
 I don't know what they'll do to me. But I'm glad 
 I didn't say I'd seen him." 
 
 In spite of his aching bones, Steve's assurance 
 that his parents had not forgotten him, as he feared, 
 was a great comfort to the lonely little lad, and 
 thinking hopefully of his interview with Steve the 
 next day, he fell asleep and forgot his troubles.
 
 250 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 JACK'S KESOLTJTION. 
 
 JACK could hardly get up the next morning, he 
 was so stiff and bruised from the beating his uncle 
 had given him, but he was not the kind of boy to 
 moan and groan in bed. He dragged himself up 
 and dressed, and after washing and dipping his head 
 into cool water in the back yard he felt better, and 
 soon got to work, lighting the fire and getting the 
 things ready for breakfast. He rather dreaded 
 meeting his Uncle Mat, but although the man looked 
 surly enough he did not allude to the occurrence of 
 the previous evening, and after breakfast, to Jack's 
 relief, he left the house. The day seemed longer 
 than usual, but Jack finished his work at last and 
 hastened away to the place where he and Steve had 
 arranged to meet. 
 
 His cousin was already waiting there, lying on 
 the ground, lazily watching his horse quietly 
 grazing the herbage near. He hailed Jack heart- 
 ily. 
 
 " "Well ! how did you get on last night ? " 
 
 " Very badly, Steve," returned the boy, and re- 
 lated how he had been treated. Great was Steve's 
 indignation when he heard what had taken place, 
 and looked at Jack's bruised back. 
 
 " Poor little lad ! " he said pityingly. " He has 
 been hard on you, I can see. He licked me once 
 in a rage, an' "I wouldn't stay a day longer in his
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAtRIE. 251 
 
 house, for I hadn't done wrong. I saw him to-day 
 an' we had a terrible row over you. I gave him a 
 piece o' my mind about the way he was keepin' you 
 from your folks under false pretenses." 
 
 " Steve ! " cried Jack suddenly, a ray of joy cross- 
 ing his face, " I've got a plan in my head. You 
 ran away from home, an' why shouldn't I? " 
 
 " Aye ! but I was a big fellow over sixteen, an' 
 you're a little 'un, not much more than a baby yet," 
 returned Steve. 
 
 " But I shouldn't be afraid to try," declared Jack 
 stoutly. " I might get lifts from folks goin' along 
 the road." 
 
 " You're right there," exclaimed Steve., " It isn't 
 such a bad idea after all. You're a plucky boy, for 
 I never thought as you had the grit to make a bolt 
 on it. If you're sure you aren't frightened to go so 
 far alone, I do believe as I might be able to help 
 you on your way a bit." 
 
 *' Could you, Steve ? " cried Jack. " Oh ! do tell 
 me how." 
 
 " Well ! There's a wagon here now belongin' to 
 some miners who are on their Avay to the * Rockies ' 
 to prospect. I know one o' them, an' it would be a 
 grand scheme if he would let you go along with him. 
 Shall I ask him ? " 
 
 " Please do," said Jack. " I'm ready to start any 
 minute they want to go, an' I promise I won't give 
 'em any trouble. Oh, Steve, I must get away from 
 here ! " 
 
 " All right ! I'll try an' fix it for you," returned 
 Steve. " Wouldn't it be a surprise for your folks if 
 they saw you walk in one fine day ? I don't quite 
 know where they live, except that they're some- 
 where on the Cochetopa Creek, but I reckon if you 
 do get that far as you'll find 'em. I'll see the miner 
 to-morrow. He's cam pin' t'other side o' the vil- 
 lage. I guess he won't object to takin' you, as I'll
 
 252 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 tell him you're a handy little chap. I believe I'd 
 have gone an' seen you safe there myself, but I'm 
 goin' to look after cattle down on the Huerfano." 
 
 '* You are good to me, Steve ! " cried Jack, throw- 
 ing his arms round the cowboy's neck and hugging 
 him. " I thought you'd save me somehow, an' I do 
 love you so/' 
 
 " There ! that'll do, young 'un," said Steve good- 
 naturedly. ' ; Go home an' keep quiet, for if that 
 Avoman gets wind o' our plans, it'll be all up, for she 
 ain't goin' to give up a slavey like you. But look 
 here ! How shall I let you know if he'll take you ? " 
 as Jack was turning to go. 
 
 He stopped, and after a little more talking it was 
 decided that Steve was to interview the miner on 
 Jack's behalf, and if the man agreed to let the boy 
 go with them to the mountains, Steve was to ride 
 past his father's house the next morning and wave 
 a red handkerchief as a sign of success. 
 
 They parted in great spirits, but both were too 
 young to know what a great undertaking it was 
 they were contemplating for such a young boy. 
 Jack had no notion of the distance it was to his 
 parents' new home and Steve's was scarcely less 
 vague. Jack's one idea was to start off and find 
 his Father and Mother somehow. 
 
 The next day Mrs. Bvrne was in a very bad 
 temper and was a great trial to poor Jack. Noth- 
 ing he could do was right in her eyes, and being in 
 a state of anxious excitement himself over the re- 
 sult of Steve's mission he made some trifling 
 blunders which brought swift correction upon him, 
 and many a time his ear tingled from a blow from 
 her hand. 
 
 He was busily engaged in washing the kitchen 
 floor when he heard a horse coming rapidly along 
 the dusty road. He knew what it was, and, unable 
 to resist the temptation, he jumped up from his
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 253 
 
 knees and rushed to the door. Unluckily for him 
 Mrs. Byrne came in from the garden at that mo- 
 ment and met him at the doorway. Seeing him, as 
 she thought, neglecting his work, she seized him by 
 the arm and pulling him back roughly into the 
 kitchen said angrily, "You lazy imp! The moment 
 my back's turned, you leave the washin'. I thought 
 your uncle had taught you a lesson two nights ago, 
 an' mark you, I'll give you another hidin' as you'll 
 remember if I catch you shirkin' your work." 
 
 But Jack cared nothing for her threatening words 
 now. In the one glimpse he had got through the 
 doorway he had seen Steve galloping past and 
 waving in his hand the red handkerchief of success. 
 
 Hope sprang high in the boy's heart, and with a 
 bright smile on his face he set to work once more 
 at the dirty floor, scrubbing with a will. Nothing 
 put him out again that day. He carried pail after 
 pail of water through the hot sun without a sigh, 
 although it blistered his hands, for there was a great 
 thought of jo v to cheer him on " The last time for 
 her ! " 
 
 When he met Steve in the evening he heard the 
 wagon was to start at daybreak, and Jeff Ralston, 
 the miner, was willing to take him as far as the 
 mountains if he were there in time, but on no con- 
 sideration would they wait one moment for him. 
 
 " I'll be there, never fear," exclaimed Jack joy- 
 fully. 
 
 " This Jeff seems a rough, good-natured fellow," 
 went on Steve, " an' he'll be kind to you I guess if 
 he don't get drunk. He's like my Father when he 
 is that, he ain't no use at all ; but there isn't much 
 to drink on the prairie, so I expect vou'll be all 
 right." 
 
 Jack was quite grateful enough to please Steve, 
 although the little boy did not know that his kind- 
 hearted cousin, had given the miner some of his own
 
 254 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 hard-earned dollars to secure bis goodwill towards 
 the juvenile traveler. 
 
 " You'd better get home an' to bed now," said 
 Steve at last, " or you'll miss getting up in time. I 
 hope you'll get through safe, Jack, an' perhaps I'll 
 come an' look you up myself some day." 
 
 " Good-by, Steve, I won't ever forget you, an' 
 I'll tell father an' mother how you helped me off 
 to see them," said Jack gratefully, and after an 
 affectionate farewell the cousins parted. 
 
 Jack went to bed directly he got into the house, 
 but never a wink of sleep did he get. He lay quite 
 still for hours, until the deep breathing through the 
 thin partitions told him that the rest of the family 
 were slumbering soundly. Then he arose and 
 dressed himself. Making no noise and carrying his 
 boots, and a blanket, which was his own property, 
 he got out of his window quietly and in a few min- 
 utes was hurrying along the road towards the out- 
 skirts of the village in the direction of the miner's 
 camp. 
 
 It was a starlight night, which enabled him be- 
 fore very long to make out, a little way ahead of 
 him, a big prairie schooner with four horses teth- 
 ered near by long ropes. Close up under the wag- 
 ons he saw the figures of two men sleeping on the 
 ground, and not wishing to disturb them he lay 
 down near them to wait until they awoke. But his 
 long hours of wakefulness had tired him out and he 
 fell asleep. 
 
 He was aroused by a stir in camp to find prepara- 
 tions going on for breakfast. He felt chilly from, 
 lying on the ground, and was not sorry to see a 
 nice fire of sticks burning near him. A man was 
 putting a kettle of water on to boil, and as Jack 
 rose up and approached him, he welcomed him in a 
 gruff but not unkindly way. 
 
 " How do, kid ? I didn't disturb you out o' your
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 255 
 
 sleep ? Are you the young 'un as Steve Byrne came 
 about last night ? You want to go along with our 
 outfit as far as the Range, don't you ? " 
 
 " Yes, please," answered Jack. " I'm going to 
 my father. He's way over in the San Luis Yalley, 
 up on the Cochetopa Creek." 
 
 " Cochetopa Creek ! " ejaculated the man. " Why, 
 boy, that's over two hundred an' fifty miles from 
 here, an' you'll have to cross the ' Rockies,' too. 
 Say, Lem," he called out, " here's an enterprising 
 young 'un. He's startin' off alone for Cochetopa 
 Creek. "What d'you think o' that ? " 
 
 " He'll never get there," returned his companion, 
 who had been looking after the horses and came up 
 at that moment. 
 
 " You're right, Lem, I do believe," said the first 
 speaker. " Just listen to me, boy ! A kid like you 
 can never travel so far. Take my advice an' go 
 back to the folks as looks after you here." 
 
 " No, I won't," answered Jack, sturdily, " I've 
 started now, an' I ain't goin' back for no one. If 
 you won't take me I'll go on an' walk. My father's 
 sent for me, but my uncle wont't let me go. I guess 
 he shan't stop me now." 
 
 " "Well, you're a plucky kid, as sure as my name's 
 Jeff Ralston," declared the miner. 
 
 " How soon is grub to be ready ? " asked Lem, 
 impatiently. " I'd better harness up the team while 
 I'm waitin', as we want to get away soon." 
 
 " All right. I'll call you when I've made some 
 oatmeal porridge. Here, kid, go to the wagon an' 
 get out the tin cups an' plates." 
 
 Jack obeyed, and was so quick getting out the 
 things he pleased Jeff, who remarked to him, when 
 he saw Lem was safe out of earshot, " Look here ! 
 Ye're a sharp lad, an' I'm glad I promised Steve 
 Byrne as I'd do my best for you. All the same I'm 
 a bit afraid as to how Lem'll take it, for he can't
 
 256 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 abide kids, an' I haven't told him as you're a-comin* 
 along with us. He's my mate an' a terribly cranky 
 chap." 
 
 " I won't bother him a bit," cried Jack, delighted 
 to find one of his escort inclined to be so friendly, 
 and hoping to be able in time to please the doubtful 
 Lem. 
 
 Jack confessed to himself he did not like the 
 man's looks at all, and when Jeff at breakfast in- 
 timated to him that he intended to take " the kid " 
 along, he only received a disapproving " Humph " 
 in return. Jack, distrusting the dark, sullen face, 
 determined to have as little as possible to do with 
 him while he formed one of their party.
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 257 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 JACK STARTS ON HIS JOURNEY. 
 
 THE sun had not risen far above the horizon when 
 the wagon started. The men very carefully ex- 
 tinguished every ember of their camp-fire before 
 they left the place, by pouring buckets of water over 
 it, as the laws were very strict on that point. Many 
 of the terrible prairie fires are traced from time to 
 time to sparks left by careless people camping out, 
 which, blown by the wind, ignite the dry grass near, 
 and start the destructive flames which spread and 
 rush on for miles, carrying ruin in their track. 
 
 Lem sat in front of the wagon driving the four 
 horses, Avhile Jeff was beside him, both smoking. 
 As Jack was afraid of being pursued, Jeff suggested 
 it would be safer for him to ride inside the wagon 
 for the first day or two. They had only got a few 
 miles from Longview, when Jeff perceived a horse- 
 man riding after them, evidently bent on overtaking 
 them. 
 
 " Lie down, boy ! " he called through the wagon 
 opening to Jack, "we're followed already. Get 
 under the blankets." 
 
 Poor Jack obeyed, trembling with fright, and 
 not daring to look out and see who it was. How 
 relieved he felt when the horse came up close be- 
 hind and he heard Steve's cheery voice hailing them, 
 " Hi, stop ! " 
 
 " Hold on, Lem, for a bit," cried Jeff, " it's the 
 young 'un he wants to see." 
 17
 
 258 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 Lem pulled up with evident reluctance. 
 
 " Have you got the kid ? " asked Steve, anxiously. 
 
 " Yes, there he be," returned Jeif, as Jack's happy 
 face looked out through the canvas curtains ; " I 
 guess we can take care o' him for a spell of the 
 way ; but though he's got his head screwed on right, 
 an' he has plenty o' pluck, I doubt if he'll ever get 
 as far as Cochetopa Creek." 
 
 " He's bound to go," said Steve, " an' I leave him 
 now in your trust, Jeif." 
 
 Steve could not help laying a slight emphasis on 
 the your when speaking to Jeif, for there was no 
 doubt his face had fallen considerably when he per- 
 ceived that Lem Adams was Jeif s mate. He had 
 known two men were going, but Jeif Ralston was the 
 only one he had seen the day before when he went 
 over to the camp to negotiate on Jack's behalf. 
 He had not thought of asking the other man's 
 name, and now he was sorry enough to find that 
 Lem was one of Jack's companions. Some months 
 before, Steve had seen a good deal of Lem Adams 
 in a mining town, and disliked him intensely, having 
 found him a bad, untrustworthy man. Lem hated 
 Steve too, and the scowl on his face was not pleasant 
 to see as he looked at the young cowboy. 
 
 Jack had jumped out of the back of the Avagon 
 upon Steve's arrival, and now the latter pulled his 
 horse round to where the boy stood, and leaning 
 from his saddle he whispered, so that the others 
 could not hear, u Look out as you don't vex that 
 black-lookin' fellow. He's a mean chap an' hates 
 me, so I'm feared as he'll plague ye if he gets the 
 chance, but Jeif'll see as ye ain't bullied if he don't 
 
 Set drunk. Take this, lad, it may be useful, but 
 on't let on as you have it." He slipped a small 
 paper packet into Jack's hand, and shook his head 
 warningly to stop his words of thanks. 
 
 Then calling out, " Good-by, Jack, keep a good
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 259 
 
 heart up,, an' good luck go with you," he put spurs 
 to his horse and galloped away. 
 
 Jack stood gazing after him until he was lost to 
 sight in a cloud of dust ; then, holding the packet- 
 tight in his hand, he remounted the wagon, and 
 they moved on once more over the dusty road. 
 
 It was August, and the hot sun poured down its 
 relentless r/iys on the prairie schooner and its 
 occupants traveling slowly on, but Jack never 
 grumbled. He was happy enough, kncfwing that, 
 he had started out on his long journey, and what 
 cared he for the heat when he found himself mov- 
 ing along the same road over which his dear father 
 and mother had traveled before. 
 
 But to return for a time to Longview. Jack's 
 absence from his uncle's house was not noticed un- 
 til breakfast time. When he was first missed, the 
 Byrnes concluded he had gone to look for the cow, 
 as there was no morning's milk in the place where 
 Jack usually left it. A few hours later they were 
 surprised to hear " Roanie," lowing near the yard 
 gate, and knew that the wandering animal must have 
 actually come back of her own accord to be milked. 
 But where was Jack ? Roanie's arrival caused quite 
 a stir. Mat Byrne began to think something was 
 wrong, and he and the two boys sallied forth to look 
 for the truant in the village. 
 
 They asked various people, and no one had seen 
 Jack, and though they hunted about well, they 
 could not find him. His uncle got very angry, and 
 vowed to pay him out when he caught him again. 
 
 Luckily for Jack his uncle never once supposed so 
 young a boy would think of running away, and he 
 made sure that by evening Jack would return to his 
 house hungry and repentant. 
 
 He, at first, thought he would find Jack with his 
 own son, Steve, and therefore was greatly surprised 
 to see the latter riding carelessly about the village
 
 260 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 all day. Steve rode past him giving him an in- 
 different nod, and his father little thought how 
 closely the cowboy was watching every movement 
 he made. 
 
 Never for one moment did Mat Byrne connect 
 Jack's disappearance with the departure of the two 
 miners that morning, and when it dawned on the 
 searchers the next day, after having ransacked every 
 shed and building in Longview, that they must look 
 further afield for the missing boy, our fugitive was 
 too far away to fear recapture. Byrne made many 
 inquiries from incoming travelers, as to whether 
 they had seen a boy anywhere along the different 
 roads, but thanks to Jeff's precautions, not a soul 
 passing their wagon had seen the small boy hiding 
 under the blankets, and unable to get any clue to 
 the direction Jack had gone in, his uncle was at 
 last obliged to give up the search. 
 
 For three or four days Jack was very careful to 
 keep out of sight, but as they got farther away from 
 Longview he felt safer and breathed more freely. 
 He was always glad when they stopped to camp for 
 the night, as his legs got very cramped in the wagon. 
 If possible, they halted each time near some spring 
 or creek of water, where they could get plenty for 
 man and beast to drink. 
 
 As a rule every one had his own work allotted to 
 him, and, knowing what each one had to do, this 
 saved all confusion when forming their camps. Lena 
 looked after the four horses, unharnessed them, 
 watered them, gave them their feeds and picketed 
 them out where the grass grew most plentifully. 
 Jeff was cook, and Jack helped them both. Jeff 
 found him most useful. He collected fir-cones and 
 bits of pinon or birch-bark to start the fires with, 
 and kept them going with sticks ; he filled the camp- 
 kettle from the spring while Jeff fried the beefsteak 
 or sausage-meat, and even Lem looked less sullen
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 261 
 
 when he found how much quicker he got his meals 
 than before Jack came. 
 
 Always after they had eaten their food Jack 
 washed up the things in a bucket, and put them 
 tidily by in their places in the wagon, while the men 
 lounged by the fire and smoked. Jack soon got used 
 to the life, although it seemed very strange to him 
 to find himself every night farther away from Long- 
 view, and getting nearer and nearer to the grand 
 mountains which they could just see stretching 
 along in a huge range miles ahead of them. 
 
 Jeff liked Jack better every day, and asked him a 
 great deal about his people. One day he questioned 
 him about his mother, and being a subject dear to 
 the boy's heart, he launched forth into a glowing 
 description of her, which quickly showed the rough 
 miner what a good influence she had exercised over 
 her little son. 
 
 " Well," said he, slowly, " I understand you. now, 
 my lad. Your mother was one Avorth havin'. But 
 you say she taught you prayers an' hymns. I don't 
 care about prayers, but I'm powerful fond o' singin'. 
 Could you give us one o' your mother's hymns 
 now ? " 
 
 They were all sitting round the fire after supper, 
 but Lem seemed half asleep as Jack and Jeff talked. 
 In answer to the latter's questions the boy said, 
 
 " Aye ! of course I can. I'll sing you the one as 
 Father liked best, .for he used to sing it when he was 
 freightm' an' campin' out as we're doin' now." 
 
 " Give it us, my lad," said Jeff, as he refilled his 
 pipe, and prepared to listen. 
 
 Jack had a sweet young voice, and possessing a 
 good ear for music, he had quickly picked up the 
 tunes of his favorite hymns from his parents, who 
 both sang well. 
 
 Delighted to please his new friend he struck up, 
 " Forever with the Lord/' repeating the last half of
 
 262 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 the first verse as a chorus after all the verses. Fresh 
 and clear his voice rang out, and when he came to 
 the last two lines, 
 
 " Yet nightly pitch my moving tent 
 A day's march nearer home ! " 
 
 he seemed to throw his whole energy into the 
 words. 
 
 The hymn struck home to rough Jeff, and when 
 it was ended he said, 
 
 " That's the way, lad. It's almost as if them 
 words were written for such rovin' chaps as us. 
 Don't stop. I like it. Give us another." 
 
 Jack was only too glad to go on. lie sang his 
 mother's favorite, " My God, My Father, while I 
 stray," and followed it by many more, until his 
 voice got tired. Sometimes he forgot a verse here 
 and there, but he remembered enough to show Jeff 
 that he must have sung the hymns day after day to 
 know them so well by heart. 
 
 Lem had sat silently on the far side of the camp- 
 fire, but as Jack ceased singing he said sneeringly, 
 " Say ! Jeff, you ain't been much o' a hymn-fancier 
 afore to-night, I reckon." 
 
 "No, I ain't," returned the miner, quietly; 
 " more's the pity perhaps. If I'd had such a mother 
 to teach me, 1 dare say I'd have lived a deal 
 straighter life than I have done. I don't remember 
 my mother. She died when I was a babby, but if 
 she'd been like Jack's, I reckon I'd have gone as far 
 to see her as he's agoin'." 
 
 Lem grunted. In spite of himself he had liked 
 listening to the boy's singing, but the words that he 
 sang had made no impression on him. 
 
 Jeff always sent Jack early to bed, for the unusual 
 fatigue made the little fellow feel very tired and 
 weary towards night. He slept in the wagon, for Jeff 
 Jaad said after the first day, " Jest roll yourseF up
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 263 
 
 cosy in there. Lena an' I are used to sleepin' on the 
 ground an' like it best, but it's different for a kid 
 like you." 
 
 Jack soon became attached to the good-natured 
 miner, and he felt as long as he \vas present he need 
 not feel in the least afraid of Lem troubling him.
 
 264 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 
 JACK GOES IN SEARCH OF " NIGGER. 
 
 FOR nearly three weeks the horses dragged the 
 wagon slowly on over the prairie', and although it 
 was very hot and dusty, Jack was as happy as a 
 sandboy. 
 
 For some days they had made very short journeys, 
 as one of the horses had rubbed a sore place on its 
 shoulder, and consequently refused to pull at all. 
 Lena at last had to tie it on at the back of the 
 wagon, and arrange the other three animals in uni- 
 corn fashion, that is, one in front of two. This, of 
 course, delayed their progress a good deal. 
 
 Jack was delighted with the novelty of allhesa\v, 
 and a band of antelopes bounding away in the dis- 
 tance nearly drove him wild with excitement. One 
 evening they came upon some cowboys who had just 
 bunched up a huge herd of cattle for the night. 
 There were nearly three thousand beasts, and it was 
 a wonderful sight to see how a few men managed 
 to keep so many cattle in check. The cowboys were 
 stationed on their horses at near distances all round 
 the herd like so many sentinels. 
 
 If an animal broke away, a horseman was af i ^r it 
 at lightning speed. With a swift turn of his arm 
 the cowboy would throw the lariat with a true aim 
 over the horns of the runaway, and the sagacious 
 horse, knowing what is expected from it, would 
 twist round on his hind legs, and the jerk on the 
 rope brought the fugitive to the ground. Some-
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 265 
 
 times the cowboys galloped round the running 
 beast, and headed it back to the herd without using 
 the lariat or long leather rope. 
 
 Jack and his companions camped for the night 
 close to the cowboys, and Jack took a great interest 
 in them for Steve's sake. They relieved each, other 
 like guards all through the night. 
 
 The way they rode was wonderful in Jack's eyes, 
 and their horses were so well trained they turned 
 whichever side their rider leaned over on, and if he 
 wanted to stop altogether he just threw the reins 
 over the animal's head on to the ground and it 
 remained quite still. 
 
 There was great work next morning, as the cow- 
 boys made an early start, and the bustle was most 
 exciting to Jack as he watched them standing or 
 sitting in groups round their grub- wagon eating their 
 breakfast. Then directly after, they tightened their 
 saddles, and before long the gigantic herd of cattle 
 moved slowly on. Such a bellowing they made, and 
 the dust rose in a huge cloud behind them, in which 
 they were soon lost to sight. Their grub-wagon 
 followed them, and shortly after Lem got his horses 
 harnessed, and he, Jeff, and Jack, taking their 
 places in their prairie schooner, rolled on towards 
 the mountains once more. 
 
 These mountains which were getting nearer every 
 day, were a fresh source of wonder to Jack. He 
 had lived all his life on the flat prairie where there 
 was not even a hill to be seen, and he w r as speech- 
 less with surprise as he gazed on the snow-capped 
 pe. s in front of him, stretching up into the blue 
 sky. Lower down the sides of the mountains the 
 dark forests of trees spread for miles, and Jeff 
 pointed out to him where the deep ravines or canons 
 Avere, through which the mountain creeks rushed 
 down to the valleys fringed all along their banks 
 with quaking aspens and cottonwood trees.
 
 266 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 How pleased Jack felt to think that his new 
 home must be somewhere in sight of these glorious 
 mountains, and already the air they breathed 
 seemed very different from the hot, close atmosphere 
 at Long view. 
 
 One evening they made their camp for the night 
 just outside a Mexican village. It was a very queer- 
 looking place, and Jack stared about him in aston- 
 ishment, lie had seen Mexicans passing through 
 Longview occasionally, and now he had come to a 
 village where no one but Mexicans lived. The 
 houses were not built of wood, like those at Long- 
 view, but were made of a kind of mud called adobe. 
 This adobe was shaped into bricks and baked. The 
 houses looked so funny. Some were quite round 
 like beehives, and one thing that amused Jack very 
 much was that many of the doors were half-way up 
 the front wall of the houses, and when people 
 wanted to go in and out, they went up and down 
 ladders placed to reach the openings. 
 
 That evening after supper, Lem persuaded Jeff 
 to walk into the village, leaving Jack, as usual, to 
 wash up the things. The boy felt a mistrust of 
 Lem when he saw how maliciously triumphant he 
 looked as he strolled away from the camp accom- 
 panied by Jeff. He watched them as far as the vil- 
 lage, and then returned to his work. "When it Avas 
 finished he sat contentedly down by the fire to wait 
 for them. It got later and later, but his compan- 
 ions did not return, and at last, unable to keep 
 awake any longer, he went to bed. 
 
 He fell into a troubled sleep, from which he was 
 roused by hearing men's voices. Starting up, he 
 listened and heard his companions returning. They 
 were singing and shouting in a wild, boisterous way 
 that struck terror to Jack's heart, for he knew from 
 such sounds that they must have been drinking 
 heavily. Their loud, rough voices frightened him,
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 267 
 
 and he lay very still inside the wagon for fear they 
 should see him. He could tell Lera was in a quar- 
 relsome mood, and trembled as they hunted about 
 in the back of the wagon for their blankets, swear- 
 ing and growling all the time. At last they sank 
 into heavy slumbers, but all sleep had fled from 
 Jack's eyes at the fresh trouble that had arisen for 
 him. The two men were evidently given to drink, 
 the awful curse in the "West, and had taken the op- 
 portunity of a first halt at a village to satisfy their 
 craving for it. It was a terrible thought for poor 
 Jack, for he knew from what they had said there 
 must be many mining camps ahead of them, and of 
 course in such places there would be awful tempta- 
 tions for men like them, and his heart sank at the 
 idea of being alone with such companions. 
 
 lie lay awake for hours, and dropped into a kind 
 of doze towards morning. He rose early and moved 
 very quietly, fearful of disturbing Jeff and Lem 
 after their night's carousal. He went to water 
 the horses, and to his surprise found one had dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 It had evidently dragged its picket-rope from 
 the pegs that secured it, doubtless frightened by 
 the noise in camp the previous night. It was the 
 horse that had been led behind the wagon on ac- 
 count of its sore shoulder, and it probably was 
 fresher than the other three horses and more likely 
 to run away. It was unshod, and unfortunately 
 there was no impression on the short, dry herbage, 
 to show Jack which way it had gone. He wandered 
 away a short distance from the camp looking for 
 the fugitive, but, unable to see anything of it, he 
 returned, and began to prepare breakfast. 
 
 Just as it was ready Lem roused up, and came 
 grumbling towards the fire. Jack saw it was wiser 
 not to speak to him as he looked very cross indeed, 
 and the boy could not help wishing his friend Jeff
 
 208 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 .would also wake up, as he always felt safer in his 
 presence. 
 
 They silently ate their breakfast, until Lem, look- 
 ing over towards the group of horses, asked sud- 
 denly, 
 
 " Where's digger? " 
 
 " He was right enough when I went to bed last 
 night," returned Jack, " but I found him gone this 
 mornin'. I expect he dragged his picket-rope and 
 got away." 
 
 Lem darted an angry look at the boy. " I believe 
 you loosed him yoursel'," he exclaimed furiously, 
 " to pay Jeff and me out, for goin' for a bit of a 
 spree into the village ! " 
 
 " I didn't," cried Jack indignantly ; " I wouldn't 
 do such a mean trick nohow." 
 
 " I don't believe you, there ! " declared Lem, in- 
 sultingly. " I can't abide kids, an' I wouldn't trust 
 one of 'em anywhere. I was mad when I heard as 
 Jeff was bent on bringin' you along with us." 
 
 In vain Jack protested he knew nothing about 
 the horse's escape. Lem's temper was bad from the 
 effects of his drinking bout, and as ill-luck would 
 have it, the boy was the victim of it. 
 
 " Look here, kid," he said sternly, " it was your 
 business to see to them creatures when we were gone 
 away, an' I guess you'll skip out an' find that there 
 < Nigger ' as quick as you can. Not a step on with 
 us do you go, till he's brought back again ! " 
 
 " I've looked all round the camp this mornin'," 
 said Jack dolefully, " but I haven't seen no tracks 
 of him. Would you let me get on ' Yankee Boy ' 
 an' ride over to that clump of trees over there ? " 
 
 "No! I guess you can walk that far," returned 
 Lem, " an' I reckon you'd better not come back 
 again without the horse. 1 mayhap would like 
 to ride ' Yankee Boy ' mysel' an' have a look 
 round."
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 269 
 
 Poor Jack ! He looked wistfully at the recum- 
 bent figure of Jeff who was still in a deep slumber, 
 and the lad, seeing there was no help for it, had to 
 put the best face he could on the matter, and sally 
 forth. He carried a long leather rope to catch the 
 horse with, and walked towards the trees, which 
 were about a couple of miles from the camp. 
 
 As he approached them, he noticed they were 
 
 f rowing at the entrance of a deep ravine th'at ran 
 ack towards the mountains with a creek running 
 through it. It was a very rough place ; boulders 
 lay strewed about, but here and there were patches 
 of grass which looked so much fresher and greener 
 than what grew on the prairie that Jack noticed 
 the difference. It also struck him that the grass 
 looked as if it had been freshly trampled, and in a 
 moment the idea flashed into his mind that " Nigger" 
 had without doubt wandered up the ravine. Jack 
 never hesitated a moment, but started to follow up . 
 the tracks he saw so plainly. It was a pleasant 
 change from the hot prairie, as the trees shaded him 
 from the sun, and he climbed steadily on ove'r the 
 stony path, hoping every minute to come on the 
 truant. The ravine ran between towering Avails 
 of rock covered with pifion and oak-scrub, and com- 
 pletely hid all the adjoining prairie from view. 
 
 At last Jack turned a corner of rock, and saw 
 ahead a small band of bronchos, or prairie horses, 
 lie hurried on hoping to find the object of his 
 search, but, alas ! " Nigger " was not amongst them, 
 and his weary toil up the long ravine had been on 
 a false trail after all ! The wild ponies were scared 
 at the sight of him appearing to disturb their lone- 
 liness, and scampered away up the steep sides of 
 the precipice like goats, leaving Jack gazing sadly 
 after them. It was a great disappointment, and 
 tears were not far from the boy's eyes as, tired out, 
 he sat down, on a rock for a'rest. It was no use
 
 270 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 pursuing the hunt for "Nigger" any higher up 
 there, and seeing it would be quicker to retrace his 
 steps than climb up the sides of the rock, he turned 
 to make his way down again. It was long past noon 
 by the time he had scrambled out of the ravine and 
 stood once more on the prairie. 
 
 There was no time to lose, and with many mis- 
 givings as to the reception he would receive from 
 the indignant Lem, Jack hurried back as fast as he 
 could towards the camp. He was afraid that his 
 long and, alas ! useless delay, might also have vexed 
 his friend Jeff, which was a thing to be avoided if 
 possible. 
 
 Ahead of him he saw the quaint Mexican village, 
 but something strange had taken place in his ab- 
 sence ! What could have happened ? Quite puzzled, 
 he rubbed his eyes and ran on faster towards the 
 place where they had camped, and reaching it could 
 hardly believe his own eyes when he could see 
 nothing of the prairie wagon, or the horses, or the 
 camp he had left in the morning I
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 271 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 JACK IS DESERTED. 
 
 JACK stood on the forsaken camping-ground, and 
 the truth dawned slowly on him his companions 
 had gone on and left him behind ! He noticed the 
 still damp embers of the extinguished fire, and 
 though there was every indication of their recent 
 presence, not a sign could he see of the two men. 
 
 He was very indignant at this unkind way of 
 treating him. 
 
 " That's Lem's doing," he muttered. " He's done 
 it on purpose to spite me. I don't care much ; 
 they'll go very slow, an' I guess I can overtake 
 them by night. I hope Jeff will be right again by 
 then." 
 
 All the same it gave him a feeling of forlorn- 
 ness to know he was absolutely alone on the prairie. 
 He felt very hungry, and of course there was noth- 
 ing to eat, as all the provisions had gone on in the 
 wagon. 
 
 How glad he now felt that he had a little money 
 of his own ; the precious packet Steve had given 
 him. He took a quarter dollar out of the store and 
 returned the rest to a safe place inside his shirt. 
 He knew his road la\ T through the Mexican village, 
 and decided to follow it, hoping to see a shop where 
 he could buy some bread. 
 
 Lem and Jeff had picked up a few Mexican words, 
 but of course Jack neither understood nor could 
 speak any of the language. He lost no time in en-
 
 272 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 tering the village, trusting to make some one under- 
 stand what he wanted, but he had not proceeded a 
 couple of hundred yards up the main street of the 
 place when he found himself surrounded by a crowd 
 of Mexican boys, all shouting at him in a tongue he 
 did not know. 
 
 He tried at first to show them he was hungry by- 
 pointing to his mouth, but they only jeered and 
 laughed instead of helping him. He got out of 
 patience at last, and endeavored to make his way 
 through the noisy band towards the center of the 
 village. But the boys pushed him back each time, 
 evidently thinking it great sport to tease an unpro- 
 tected little lad. 
 
 Jack appealed in English to two Mexican men 
 who were lounging near, but they seemed to enjoy 
 watching the group of cruel boys tormenting him. 
 Jack was no coward although he was so young, and 
 after receiving a hard push from a bigger boy than 
 himself, he lost his temper, and hit his opponent a 
 good blow between the eyes. 
 
 This was the signal for a general outburst. The 
 Mexicans are a fierce, passionate race, and the boys 
 retaliated on poor Jack by all setting on him all at 
 once. Jack fought hard, and dealt out many a 
 telling blo\\ r , but they were too many and strong 
 for him, and at last he found himself being hustled 
 out of the village where he had entered it, while his 
 tormentors formed a long line to prevent him trying 
 to come in again. Bleeding and bruised, Jack felt 
 too worn out and faint from hunger and the fight to 
 attempt another tussle with the enemy, so, like a 
 wise boy, he deemed " discretion the better part of 
 valor," and, skirting the village, he recommenced 
 his weary trudge along the road leading towards 
 the mountains. 
 
 The range loomed up at no great distance in 
 front of him, and the peaks towered up so high they
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 273 
 
 seemed to pierce the bright blue sky. But as the 
 afternoon lengthened, Jack noticed that the sky was 
 assuming a very threatening aspect. Big clouds 
 came rolling up over the mountains, making them 
 look almost black in the shadow. Jack went on 
 bravely, hoping to reach some place of shelter be- 
 fore the storm broke, but it was getting rapidly 
 darker and his heart began to sink at the prospect 
 ahead. 
 
 Blacker and blacker it grew around him. Bright 
 flashes of lightning shot from the murky clouds, 
 followed by loud crashing thunder, which seemed 
 to shake the ground, and echoed and re-echoed 
 through the rocky canons. In a short time Jack 
 was in the midst of a bad specimen of a Rocky Moun- 
 tain thunderstorm and no shelter near him ! The 
 poor lad was terrified and crouched near the ground, 
 while the lightning played about him and the thun- 
 der roared overhead. 
 
 "Oh dear! Oh dear! I'm so frightened, "cried the 
 little fellow, and then he remembered his mother's 
 words " Ask God to take care of us until we meet 
 again," an injunction he had followed every day 
 since she left. Now he knelt down and prayed to God, 
 Who rules the storms, asking Him to send him help 
 and keep him safe, and felt comforted in his fear. 
 Soon the rain began to come down in torrents, and 
 Jack was quickly drenched to the skin. The rain, 
 however, broke the power of the storm, and before 
 long the thunder-clouds rolled away and the sky 
 began to clear. 
 
 Chilled to the bone and tired out, Jack rose from 
 his crouching position and moved on again, not 
 knowing whither he was going. He had Avandered 
 off the road and was aimlessly walking on over the 
 prairie. 
 
 He began to feel very queer. First he shivered 
 and his teeth chattered with cold, and a few mim.tes 
 18
 
 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 after he was burning hot all over. His head ached 
 and throbbed as if it would burst, and a feeling of 
 giddiness came over him at times. He tried to 
 think what direction he ought to move in, but 
 everything was buzzing and humming in his brain. 
 He thought he heard people shouting after him, 
 and suddenly imagined he could hear his Uncle Mat's 
 harsh voice calling him ! How it seemed to ring 
 through his head ! It struck terror into his weak, 
 overstrained mind, and he rushed on wildly into the 
 gathering darkness. Poor Jack ! It was only the 
 fatigue and hunger, combined with the soaking he 
 had endured, that was bringing on an attack of 
 fever, and all these pursuing noises were purely 
 imaginary. He ran on, trying to get away from 
 the mocking sounds which seemed to grow louder 
 and nearer every minute. 
 
 "They'll satch me, I'm feared," he moaned in an 
 agony of mind as he tore on, but suddenly his head- 
 long career was stopped. His foot tripped, and he 
 fell heavily, knocking his head against a stone. 
 
 " Oh ! Mother, Mother, save me ! " he shrieked ; 
 " he'll get me and take me back ! " and the next 
 moment he lost all consciousness. 
 
 In the meantime our readers may wonder how it 
 came to pass that Jeff had deserted his little friend, 
 and in. order to tell you I must go back to the time 
 when Jack left the camp to look for the horse. 
 Soon after he had set out for the clump of trees, 
 Lem had saddled " Yankee Boy," and after riding a 
 few miles, came upon " Nigger," whom he at once 
 secured and brought back to camp. He then har- 
 nessed up the four horses ready to start, and as 
 Jack did not return he grew very impatient, and while 
 idling about doing nothing an evil thought took 
 possession of him. What a good opportunity he 
 had now to pay off an old score against Steve 
 Byrne by leaving Jack behind? It was a cruel
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 275 
 
 thing to think of doing, but Lem was an unprinci- 
 pled fellow who cared little who suffered as long as 
 he got his revenge. 
 
 He quickly finished his preparations for starting, 
 the last being to hoist Jeff into the wagon, where 
 he immediately dozed off again, quite unconscious 
 of what was going on. All day he remained half- 
 stupefied, and as Lem drove the horses a long way 
 before making a halt, it was not far off evening 
 when Jeff discovered what had happened. 
 
 The indignation it roused in him cleared his 
 torpid brain as if by magic. 
 
 " D'you mean to say as you've been and left the 
 young 'un behind ? " he demanded. 
 
 '' That's so,' 1 returned Lem, coolly ; " I found as 
 he'd been at some tricks, so I guessed we'd get rid 
 of him. I sent him to look for ' Nigger,' and 
 skipped out afore he got back." 
 
 " I don't believe it," declared Jeff. "Jack wasn't 
 a kid to play tricks, and I call it a crying shame to 
 desert him. You daren't have done it if I'd known 
 what was goin' on. I blame mysel' for it most, and 
 I'm a-going right back to look for him." 
 
 " Eat your supper first, man, and don't be a fool," 
 said Lem, somewhat staggered at Jeff's concern 
 over his desertion of Jack ; but the miner heeded him 
 not. He mounted one of the tired horses and rode all 
 the weary way back to the place they had camped 
 at, but not a sign did he see of the boy. On the way 
 he endured the whole of the awful storm, which he 
 hardly noticed. In his anxiety he pressed on, ar- 
 riving late in the Mexican village, where he made 
 inquiries, but received such purposely conflicting 
 answers to his questions about the way the boy had 
 gone that he got quite confused, and in the end had 
 to turn back and retrace his steps. He stopped at 
 short intervals to shout, but no reply came out of 
 the darkness, and at last he got back to the wagon
 
 276 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 utterly wearied out, and as unhappy as a man could 
 be. 
 
 Lem's surly voice sounded out from the blankets 
 asking, " Well, I suppose 3 r ou've got the precious 
 kid all right, haven't you ? " 
 
 " No, I haven't," returned Jeff, savagely ; " and 
 I'm feared as he's come to grief somewhere, for 
 there ain't a house twixt here and the village for 
 him to shelter in. I'll never forgive mysel'nor you 
 either for this day's work, and the sooner we part 
 company the better I'm pleased. I knew you were 
 a crankv chap, but I didn't reckon ve were as mean 
 as this." 
 
 Lem growled out something angrily about mak- 
 ing such a fuss over a bit of a kid, but poor Jeff's 
 conscience was at work, and he blamed himself over 
 and over again for Jack's misfortune. 
 
 " It's the drink that has done it," he murmured, 
 " and I swear I'll never touch another drop again as 
 long as I live. But that won't bring back the little 
 lad," he went on sadly to himself, " and I'm scared 
 as a night up so high '11 kill him, with nothing to 
 keep him warm, for it gets terrible cold towards 
 daybreak." 
 
 Jeff could not sleep. He tossed about, listening 
 to Lem's deep breathing. 
 
 " I promised to see to him, and I might have 
 known Lem wasn't to be trusted. He did it for 
 spite, I'm pretty sure, and nothin' else," he argued 
 to himself ; and he was right, as we already know. 
 
 He and Lem parted company on the first oppor- 
 tunity, and certain it was, from the day Jack was 
 lost, Jeff was a changed man. He kept his word, 
 and never touched a drop of drink. It was no easy 
 matter to break off a long-indulged habit, but when 
 he found the desire for it growing too strong, and 
 felt inclined to yield to the temptation, he would 
 think of little Jack sitting by the camp-fire singing
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 27T 
 
 his hymns, and as the bright face of the boy rose 
 before him, it would break the evil spell and the 
 longing for drink would pass away. He stayed 
 about for some days hoping to hear something of 
 Jack, but he was obliged at last to believe that in 
 all human probability the boy had died of exposure 
 on the prairie. 
 
 " I'll wait till I know the truth," said he, " but 
 I'm feared as his mother'll never see him again, for 
 he's dead."
 
 278 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER YIL 
 
 JACK IS BESOTTED. 
 
 BUT Jack was not dead. When he returned to 
 consciousness again, he was surprised to find him- 
 self no longer on the prairie, but lying on sheep- 
 skins spread over a wooden couch and covered with 
 a blanket. 
 
 He was in a rough kind of tent, and through the 
 turned-back flap of canvas at the entrance, he could 
 see the prairie. He could remember nothing of 
 what had happened, and tried to imagine how in 
 the world he had got into such a place. His head 
 still ached badly, and, putting his hand up, he found 
 his forehead was bandaged. He felt very weak and 
 ill, but his surroundings were so strange to him, he 
 tried to sit up and look about him. The effort was 
 too much for him, and with a groan of pain he fell 
 back on the sheep-skins. 
 
 At the sound he made, a man appeared at the 
 tent door, and approached the couch. He was a 
 fine-looking fellow, evidently a Mexican, from his 
 swarthy complexion, but there was a look of com- 
 passion in his dark eyes that inspired Jack with 
 confidence and made him feel that he had found a 
 friend in need. 
 
 " Where am I ? " he asked, feebly, fearing the man 
 would not understand the English words, and his 
 relief was great when the Mexican answered, 
 
 " In my tent. I had lost some sheep last night 
 that scattered in the storm, and while looking for
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 279 
 
 them, my dog Senor found you lying on the prairie. 
 You were hurt here " pointing to his forehead 
 " and I thought you were dead. I carried you here, 
 and you were nearly gone, but I got you round at 
 last. You've got mountain fever, and you must 
 keep very still if you want to get well. Here, drink 
 this." 
 
 As he spoke he handed Jack a cup, and the boy, 
 thanking him, drank the liquid, which the Mexican 
 told him was a kind of tea he made from the wild 
 sage, which grew all over the prairie and was a 
 grand remedy for agues and fevers. 
 
 Jack was suffering from the chill he received in 
 his state of fatigue, and it was fortunate for him he 
 had been rescued in time by the shepherd's dog, and 
 had fallen into the hands of such a kind-hearted, 
 sensible man as Pedro Gomez. He had lived all his 
 life on the prairie near the mountains, and knew 
 how to treat most of the maladies that people were 
 subject to in that part of the country. 
 
 He saw Jack Avas excited, so wisely said, " I 
 shan't listen to you for a day or two, but when 
 you're better, then you can tell me where you come 
 from. It was lucky I found you in time." 
 
 " Yes," said Jack. " I believe I asked God to 
 help me, and I expect He heard, for ye see He sent 
 you to me." 
 
 The Mexican listened gravely, and said, " I reckon 
 you've got Him to thank for it arter all, for it was 
 strange we should come across you, and not another 
 soul near you for miles." 
 
 He then gave Jack injunctions to lie very still 
 until he returned again, and prepared to go back to 
 his sheep. He first called his dog and put him. on 
 guard. 
 
 "There," he said; "if you want me, just tell 
 Senor. He knows more than many a man, and '11 
 come for me at once."
 
 280 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 Jack looked gratefully at him, and said wistfully, 
 " I guess ye don't bate kids, like Lem ? " 
 
 " Hate 'em ? " repeated Pedro. " No ! My boss 
 bas two little 'uns at bis rancb, and I've nursed 'em 
 often. Tbey just love to play with Seiior, and want 
 me to tell tbem prairie tales, wben I'm tbere, all 
 day long." 
 
 Left by bimself witb Seiior, Jack prepared to make 
 friends witb bim. He was not a beautiful animal, 
 being a long, tbin, vagabond-looking dog ; but 
 faithfulness was stamped in bis honest, intelligent 
 face, and Pedro was right in saying he knew more 
 than many a human being. Jack was fond of ani- 
 mals, and made the first advances towards bis 
 guardian, but Seflor was not disposed to be friendly 
 incautiously. His life had made him suspicious of 
 strangers, and he hated Itoys. 
 
 Like Jack, he had a rough time of it when he 
 went to the Mexican village with his master, as dogs 
 and boys invariably attacked him. He, therefore, 
 avoided them, and at first deemed it wiser not to 
 notice this boy, who spoke to him in a coaxing voice. 
 He had stretched himself down on the ground near 
 the tent door, and prepared to spend his hours of 
 watching with one eye on his charge and the other 
 out of doors. 
 
 Jack, however, was restless and lonely, and 
 anxious to make friends, so he continued calling him 
 in a caressing way, until at last Seiior thought he 
 might as well investigate him closer. Accordingly 
 he rose up, and in a slow, cautious way walked up 
 to the couch, and looked up in the boy's face. 
 
 Apparently he was satisfied with his scrutiny, for 
 when Jack ventured to pat his rough head, he re- 
 turned the friendly act by licking his hand. As Jack 
 talked and caressed him further, Senor gradually 
 threw off all reserve, and when Pedro returned he
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 281 
 
 was surprised to find the dog curled up on the couch, 
 as friendly as possible with the invalid. 
 
 " Well, "that's good ! I see Seflor has taken to YOU, 
 boy," he said, approvingly. "He can't abide 
 strangers as a rule, so I take it as a sign as we'll all 
 get on right." 
 
 Pedro was a good nurse, and looked after Jack so 
 well that in a few days he was able to get up for a 
 bit and sit at the tent door. He was very weak, and 
 Pedro told him it was madness to think of trying to 
 continue his journey for some time. 
 
 When Jack was strong enough to tell him his 
 story, Pedro proved a most interested listener. 
 
 " An' where are your folks now ? " he asked. 
 
 " Over on the Cochetopa Creek," answered Jack. 
 
 " Why, that's way over t'other side o' the range. 
 You'll never get across the mountain pass alone, 1 * 
 exclaimed Pedro ; " it ain't safe for a child to 
 wander up there with no one near him. There's 
 bears an' mountain lions, let alone the timber 
 wolves ! You'd be eaten, boy, afore you'd crossed 
 the Divide." 
 
 Jack shuddered. He was afraid of bears. He 
 had never seen one, but they had always been a 
 terror to him. 
 
 " I'm terrible afraid o' bears," he said, truthfully ; 
 "but p'raps I'd meet some one going over as would 
 let me go with them." 
 
 " You might," agreed Pedro ; " but winter's 
 coming on fast, an' it'll be bad getting over the 
 range after November comes. You bide here for a 
 few weeks with me until my boss comes over again, 
 an' I promise you as he'll help you along a bit. He'll 
 be right along shortly to bring me flour an' grub an' 
 to look at the sheep." 
 
 And so it was decided that Jack should stay on 
 with the Mexican until Mr. Stuart came again, 
 when they would ask him his opinion as to the
 
 282 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 wisest course for Jack to take, to get safely over the 
 mountains. 
 
 Pedro took a great fancy to his little visitor, and 
 the quiet life in the tent was very pleasant to Jack 
 after his rough experiences. He was astonished at 
 the Mexican's cleverness ; he seemed able to do any- 
 thing with his fingers, and had a wonderful store of 
 knowledge about plants, insects, and animals, which 
 lie had acquired by study and observation, in the 
 long monotonous hours he spent on the prairie. 
 
 Jack's clothes which, at his start from Longview, 
 were none of the best, had suffered a good deal from 
 the wear and tear of traveling, and by the time he 
 arrived at Pedro's tent, they were nothing but rags, 
 and his boots were all to pieces. He was much dis- 
 tressed at his tattered garments, whereupon Pedro 
 said he would soon make it all right for him, and 
 proceeded to hunt out some buckskin leather, which 
 he had tanned himself. It was quite thin and soft, 
 and out of it he cut a suit for Jack, and sewed it 
 together. When the clothes were finished, Jack 
 was delighted with them. They were so comfort- 
 able, and the leather shirt and long fringed trousers 
 made him look like a little cowboy. 
 
 His worn-out boots hurt his feet, so his friend 
 made him a pair of moccasin shoes, cut out of a 
 single piece of leather, which fitted him nicely. 
 
 Pedro was pleased with the success of his tailor- 
 ing, and said, " There, lad, them clothes '11 never 
 wear out, but '11 last until you outgrow 'em." 
 
 The herd of sheep that 'Pedro looked after num- 
 bered over a thousand, and as winter approached he 
 began driving them towards a place on the prairie 
 where there were corrals, or yards, to put them in at 
 nights, and where a hut had been erected for his own 
 use. 
 
 As long, however, as the weather permitted, he 
 "lived in his tent, and as Jack was much stronger, he
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 283 
 
 accompanied the sheep-herder and Seiior to help with 
 the sheep in the evenings \vhenthey had to be driven 
 in. Although they never saw any one, Jack was 
 never dull or lonely, as Pedro was excellent company. 
 He showed him how to prepare the different skins 
 of animals they found near their camp, and when 
 Jack was tired of work, he and Sefior would go off to 
 hunt for chipmunks and gophers. Chipmunks were 
 like small squirrels, and gophers were pretty striped 
 little animals that played about on the prairie. 
 
 It had puzzled Jack very much to find a lonely 
 Mexican sheep-herder could speak English so well, 
 until he learned from Pedro that he had lived from 
 the time he was a boy with English people. He 
 had spent many months every year with his young 
 master, hunting, shooting, or minding cattle with 
 him, and thus had learnt to speak the language 
 fluently. He said when Mr. Stuart married and 
 settled down on his ranch, he wanted him (Pedro) 
 to live in a shanty, and look after things for him, 
 but the love of camp life was too strong in him, and 
 he begged his master to give him a situation as a 
 sheep-herder. Mr. Stuart had done as he wished, 
 and he was as happy and contented as possible in 
 his rough old tent.
 
 284 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 WHAT JACK LEARNED FROM PEDRO. 
 
 SOME weeks passed, and still Jack stayed on with 
 his new friend. The time had not been lost for the 
 boy, as he had learnt many things which he had not 
 known before, and which were very useful to him in 
 after-life. He was quick and deft with his fingers, 
 and Pedro taught him in a few days how to cut and 
 plait long strips of leather into lariats and bridle- 
 reins, and to make ornamental belts. 
 
 ' ; I wish you'd teach me to throw a lariat like 
 the cowboys," said Jack one day. 
 
 " Come and try, then," returned Pedro, taking 
 down a long leather rope that was coiled round the 
 tent-pole and going outside. " Now watch me. I 
 take the rope up in loops, leaving the noose end out. 
 Then swing it round in a circle over your head, 
 quicker and quicker, while you take aim and try and 
 throw it over the beast's head like that ; " and as he 
 spoke Pedro let the noose fall gently over Senor's 
 neck, who was running past at some distance away. 
 
 He then put up a post, and showed Jack how to 
 drop the noose over it. It was very hard at first 
 to aim straight, but Jack had a quick eye, and after 
 two or three days' hard practising, he made a very 
 good attempt at throwing the rope in the right 
 place. Day after day he went at it, until one 
 never-to-be-forgotten morning he also succeeded in 
 lariating Seiior as he trotted by. This was a great
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 285 
 
 achievement, and quite repaid Jack for the trouble 
 of practising so hard to accomplish it. 
 
 One place that pleased Jack very much was a 
 prairie-dog village close by. Many an hour did he 
 spend watching the fearless little prairie dogs, who 
 came out of their holes and would bark defiantly at 
 him like so many cheeky puppies, until the tears 
 ran down his face from laughing at their antics. 
 Sometimes, for fun, Jack pretended to throw stones 
 at them, and the instant he raised his arm they 
 would disappear down their holes as if by magic, 
 only to peep out again in a minute or two, to see if 
 they might venture forth again. 
 
 Jack saw a great many rattlesnakes when he 
 'wandered about with Pedro on the prairie. He 
 was very much afraid of them, and no wonder, for 
 their poisonous bite is often fatal. Pedro was so 
 familiar with them from his childhood that he did 
 not mind them in the least, and killed them by an 
 extraordinary native trick. He would fearlessly 
 follow a retreating snake, seize it by the tail, swing 
 it rapidly round, and with a dexterous twist of his 
 wrist, would crack it like a whip, and dislocate its 
 spine. Being thus rendered helpless, the reptile 
 was easily despatched. As a rule they tried to 
 escape, but if by chance one showed fight, it was 
 harder to kill, as it would twist itself up in a coil, 
 shaking its rattles noisily, \vith its head out ready 
 to spring and strike. 
 
 Jack had a boy's love for possessing things, and 
 in a short time, with Pedro's help, had a small col- 
 lection of treasures to carry away with him. He 
 found plenty of rattles on the prairie, as the snakes 
 cast their rattles off every year, and Pedro gave him 
 a skin of a horned toad, a curious creature covered 
 with tiny horns all over its body. 
 
 One day Pedro killed a strange-looking animal 
 called a skunk. It was very handsome, like a large
 
 286 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 black-and-white striped cat with a magnificent 
 bushy tail, but it had such a disagreeable smell it 
 made Jack feel ill. 
 
 " You surely can't skin that nasty thing ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " Wait and see," returned Pedro, carrying the 
 dead animal towards the creek. " I'll show you 
 how the Indians skin 'em." 
 
 lie put the skunk quite under the water and kept 
 it there, until he toolc off the skin, as this process 
 destroyed the strong odor belonging to the crea- 
 ture. Jack was very interested, and watched him 
 until the skin was hung out to dry. 
 
 Pedro taught Jack to know some of the principal 
 grasses that grew on the prairie. There was the 
 bunch grass, the buffalo grass, and the funny sickle- 
 shaped " gamma " grass, on which thousands of cat- 
 tle fed, and amongst others, Pedro pointed out a 
 terrible plant, the dread of many a ranchman. 
 With its pretty white flowers it looked harmless 
 enough, but woe to the poor animals who ate much 
 of the plant, for it contained a deadly poison which 
 had first the effect of driving them crazy, and ended 
 by killing them. It was called " Loco," which in 
 English means " crazy," and some people call it the 
 "crazy-weed." 
 
 A great number of cactus bushes grew round the 
 tent ; some were quite big, with long arms covered 
 with prickles stretching out, and others grew close to 
 the ground, and Jack had to look carefully when he 
 walked, or he would have got badly pricked. 
 
 Pedro was a grand story-teller, and often as they 
 sat watching the sheep or working in the tent he 
 would tell wonderful tales. When they heard the 
 dismal howls of bands of coyotes or prairie wolves, 
 he would tell Jack what cowardly creatures they 
 really were ; how they were afraid to attack strong 
 cattle, but would persistently follow a weak, sick
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 287. 
 
 animal for days, dogging its footsteps until the poor 
 thing fell from exhaustion. Then they would 
 pounce on it and tear it in pieces. 
 
 He would tell him, too, about the time when he 
 lived on the Indian frontier, and had to help to pro- 
 tect the settlers from the bands of fierce Apaches, 
 Utes, and Navajo Indians, who came making raids 
 for cattle over the border, often setting fire to 
 houses and killing the settlers. lie described how 
 the Indians had massacred thousands of buffaloes 
 by driving them into deep ravines where they could 
 not escape, and then killing them, not so much to 
 provide themselves with food as to prevent their 
 enemies getting them. It was cruel slaughter, and 
 the result has been that the buffaloes are almost ex- 
 tinct no\v, where years ago they swarmed in vast 
 herds on the prairie. 
 
 As Jack listened to Pedro's tales of wonderful 
 escapes from mountain lions, wolves, and bears, he 
 saw himself that the Mexican was right when he 
 said it was impossible for a little child like him to 
 attempt to cross the big mountains all alone, and he 
 wisely made up his mind to stay contentedly with 
 Pedro until he got the chance of going on further 
 with some one else. He would have been quite 
 happy with the Mexican and his dog, except for the 
 great longing to see his parents, Avhich sometimes 
 almost impelled him to resume his journey at all 
 risks.
 
 288 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 JACK ARRIVES AT SWIFT CREEK RANCH. 
 
 JACK had been two months with Pedro Gomez, 
 and the weather was getting much colder. Kovem- 
 ber had come, and although the sun still shone 
 brightly and warm in the middle of the day, the 
 nights were terribly cold, and Jack was glad enough 
 to have the extra sheepskins to tuck round him 
 which Pedro brought out for his use. There had 
 been one fall of snow, which quickly cleared off the 
 prairie again, leaving the mountains clothed with 
 white above timber-line. It was a pretty sight to 
 see the contrast of the bright-colored foliage against 
 the snow, for in the autumn the leaves of the oak- 
 scrub turn a brilliant red, and those of the quaking 
 aspen a bright yellow, all along the mountain creeks, 
 making a wonderful mass of color. 
 
 One afternoon, Pedro called Jack out to look at 
 the mountains. The sun was just setting, and its 
 rays spread along the edge of the peaks, making it 
 look as if the whole outline of the range had been 
 marked out with a broad, blood-red ribbon. 
 
 " Look at that, Jack ! " exclaimed the Mexican. 
 "Ain't that a grand sight? D'ye know what the 
 old pioneers called them mountains ? " 
 
 " I've heard, but I've forgot somehow. It's a 
 grand long name as I can't remember," returned 
 Jack. 
 
 " Well, I guess ye'll bear it in mind after to-day, 
 for they called it ' Sangre de ChristoJ which in Eng-
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 289 
 
 lish means ' Blood of Christ ; ' and folks say they 
 gave the range that name because the first explorers 
 saw the mountains with that blood-red streak run- 
 ning along the top." 
 
 " I shan't forget it now, I'm sure," said Jack, 
 gazing admiringly at the gorgeous scene before 
 them. " Sangre de Christo" " .Blood of Christ" he 
 repeated, slowly. " I like that name for it." 
 
 " Aye," returned Pedro, " the old Spanish ex- 
 plorers gave nicer names to places than the new 
 settlers have done later. Which d'you think is 
 prettiest, names like Huerfano (Orphan), Buena 
 Vista (Good View), Rosita (Little Rose), and Rio 
 Dolores (River of Sorrow) ; or Smith's Park, Tay- 
 lor's Creek, Gibson's Peak, and Georgetown, and 
 such-like ? Mr. Stuart was talking to me once 
 about it, and he said it struck him as his own 
 countrymen were mostly like them mentioned in the 
 Bible as called their lands after their own names." 
 
 " I like the old names best, for it seems as if they 
 had some meanin' in 'em," said Jack. " I never 
 saw anythin' like them mountains at Longview, and 
 I'm glad to think our new home is somewhere near 
 
 'em." 
 
 They stood until the glorious color had quite 
 faded out of the sky, and then turned into the tent, 
 sorry to see the last of it. 
 
 The next morning Jack was tidying out the tent, 
 when he saw Pedro and Senor hurrying towards him. 
 
 " Here's the boss himself ! " cried Pedro, in a 
 state of excitement. " He's coming across the 
 prairie in the spring wagon. Let's make up a good 
 fire, as he'll be terrible cold after his long drive." 
 
 Jack helped to bring in logs, and they soon had a 
 roaring fire in the stove. 
 
 " Pedro," asked the boy, anxiously, "d'you think 
 he'll take me back as far as his ranch ? " 
 
 " I'm sure he will," returned the Mexican, " and 
 19
 
 290 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 I'll miss you sadly, lad. I believe I couldn't part 
 with you if I didn't know as you were longing to 
 see your father and mother/' 
 
 " I've been very happy along with you and 
 Senor," said Jack, " but I'm bound to go on to my 
 own folks." 
 
 " You're right. You belong to 'em first," replied 
 Pedro, " tho' I'd give a good deal to keep you. But 
 now we must go and collect the sheep, as the boss'll 
 want to see 'em." 
 
 They ran the sheep, with Senor's help, into the 
 big corral, and waited there. The wagon soon rat- 
 tled up to them, and Jack stood quietly by, while 
 the newcomer warmly greeted the Mexican. 
 
 " Well, Pedro ! how are you making it this cold 
 weather ? Hope you and the sheep keep fit." 
 
 "Couldn't be better," returned Pedro; "and how 
 are you all at the ranch ? " 
 
 " First-rate, thanks. If it hadn't been so cold, I'd 
 have brought the children with me for the drive. 
 But, hello ! who have you got here ? " and Mr. 
 Stuart looked with surprise at Jack's quaint little 
 figure dressed in his leather suit. As he drove up 
 he had noticed what he thought was a young Mexi- 
 can by Pedro (as Jack's face was tanned quite 
 brown), but when he had looked again, he was 
 struck with the intelligent look on the boy's face, 
 and began to ask questions. 
 
 In answer Pedro said, " He's a little English boy 
 who was left behind at Las Yegas by a mining out- 
 fit he was traveling with. He tried to follow 'em 
 up, but got lost on the prairie in that bad thunder- 
 storm we had about a couple o' months back. When 
 Senor and I found him, he had an attack o' moun- 
 tain fever, but I brought him to my tent and nursed 
 him round. He's right enough now, and I thought 
 may be, when you hear his story, you'd help him on 
 a bit."
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 991 
 
 " What's your name, my boy ? " asked the gentle- 
 man. 
 
 " Jack Wilson, please, sir," answered the boy, 
 promptly. 
 
 " Well, Jack, you must tell me all about yourself 
 when I come back. I'm going to look at the sheep 
 with Pedro now, and I'll have a talk by and by." 
 
 So saying, Mr. Stuart went away towards the 
 corral, leaving Jack in great excitement. He liked 
 the look of this line young Englishman, who smiled 
 so pleasantly at him, and he felt hopeful he w.oukl 
 help him. While the men inspected the sheep, Jack 
 made himself useful by carrying all the small things 
 out of the wagon into Pedro's hut, where the provi- 
 sions were stored. He had to leave the large sacks 
 of flour, as they were too heavy for him to lift by 
 himself. 
 
 When the men returned, and Mr. Stuart saw how 
 busy Jack had been, he said, " Well done, my boy ! 
 I like to see a lad make himself of use of his own 
 free will. It shows he likes to work without being 
 told. And now I want to know how you came to 
 take up your abode with my sheep-herder." 
 
 Encouraged by the kind interest Mr. Stuart showed 
 in him, Jack told his story in a simple way, from 
 the time he first started out from Longview, to 
 where he had been so Opportunely found by Pedro 
 and Seiior. 
 
 Mr. Stuart was greatly surprised, as he listened 
 and learned how far the boy had already traveled. 
 
 " Do you really mean to tell me," he asked, 
 u that you started out alone with strangers to try 
 and reach your parents living at a place nearly 
 three hundred miles away ? I'm astonished that 
 you have got as far as this ! Indeed, I can hardly 
 believe it," and he looked searchingly at Jack. 
 
 " It's the truth, sir, all the same," said the boy 
 quietly, but there was a hurt expression on his
 
 292 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 open face, which convinced the Englishman, more 
 than anything else, of his honesty. 
 
 " Well," he said kindly, " I shall trust you, any- 
 ho\v. At first it seemed impossible to me, that a 
 little lad not ten years old, would dare to go such 
 a long, perilous journey alone, but your face and 
 straightforward answers have satisfied me, and I 
 will gladly give you all the assistance I can. I'll 
 take you back with me to my ranch, but I'm afraid 
 you must give up the idea of crossing the mountains 
 until next spring, as it is so dangerous at this time 
 of the year, very few people care to attempt it." 
 
 Jack's face flushed with pleasure as he thanked 
 the Englishman, and although he could not but feel 
 sorry at the thought of saying good-by to Pedro 
 and Senor, yet it was satisfactory to make a fresh 
 start towards home, after the long delay. 
 
 He made his little collection of curiosities into a 
 small parcel, and when it was time to start, it was 
 touching to see the parting between the boy and his 
 two friends. Over and over again Jack thanked the 
 Mexican for his kindness to him, and a few tears 
 fell on Senor's rough head. 
 
 " We'll remember you for many a long clay," said 
 Pedro, " and don't you forget Senor and me." 
 
 " I'll come and see you again when I'm bigger," 
 said little Jack, half crying, "good-by, Pedro, 
 good-by, Senor," and the wagon rolled slowly 
 away. 
 
 " Adios ! " cried poor Pedro huskily, and turned 
 away with a tear in his eye. He had got so fond of 
 his bright little visitor, and, for the first time he 
 felt really lonely in his tent, as he sat down to his 
 supper the evening after Jack's departure. Eor 
 some days he kept looking about at times, half ex- 
 pecting to see the well-known little figure playing 
 about. Seiior, too, seemed very disconsolate, and 
 wandered about uneasily, coining from time to time
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 293 
 
 to look up in Pedro's face in an inquiring way, as 
 if to ask, " Where has he gone to s I can't find 
 him?" 
 
 It was a long drive to the ranch, but Mr. Stuart 
 was so kind in talking to Jack, that he enjoyed 
 himself very much at first. It was very nice driv- 
 ing so fast over the prairie, and his new friend 
 let him take the reins for a short time, which pleased 
 him exceedingly. 
 
 Once he saw a flock of big birds a short distance 
 off, feasting on the carcass of a dead beast. He got 
 very excited, and exclaimed, " Look there, sir ! 
 Ain't them eagles ? " 
 
 " No, no, Jack," replied Mr. Stuart, " those are 
 not eagles. They are buzzards, or prairie scavengers, 
 and are more like vultures than eagles. They are 
 nasty creatures, but so useful in carrying away and 
 devouring all carrion, that the State authorities won't 
 allow them to be shot." 
 
 The birds rose slowly in a great cloud as the 
 wagon approached. There were about thirty of 
 them, and they had picked nearly every particle of 
 flesh off the animal's bones, which already looked 
 white. 
 
 " The buzzards do their work quickly," remarked 
 Mr. Stuart ; " that beast had not long died when I 
 passed it this morning." 
 
 But after a while Jack got very tired and drowsy, 
 and by the time they reached the door of the ranch- 
 house, he was lying fast asleep at the bottom of the 
 wagon, rolled up in rugs. 
 
 As the horses stopped at the door, Mrs. Stuart 
 came out to welcome her husband, and the bright 
 blaze of light that streamed from the house looked 
 pleasant in truth to the hungry and cold man after 
 his long drive. 
 
 " I'm glad to see you back safely," said his wife ; 
 u how did you find Pedro and the sheep \ "
 
 294 A. YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 " 111 grand form," he answered, " and look here, 
 in the wagon ! I've got a surprise for you and the 
 children." 
 
 Mrs. Stuart looked at the bundle curled up and 
 asked, " AVhat have you got there, Tom 2 " 
 
 " A little English boy, who'll take your heart by 
 storm when you hear his story. He's quite tired 
 out, so I'll just carry him quietly in and not disturb 
 him." 
 
 As he spoke he lifted the sleeping boy in his arms, 
 and carrying him into a nice warm room, laid him 
 on a sofa near a stove, where a fire was crackling 
 merrily. Mrs. Stuart brought a soft blanket, and 
 covered him gently, and as he never stirred, they 
 wisely decided to leave him to finish out his sleep. 
 
 The tired horses were looked after by one of the 
 ranch hands, and Mr. Stuart sat down to his 
 supper. While he was eating it, he told his wife 
 Jack's story. It at once roused her sympathy, and 
 she said, " Brave little fellow ! What miles he has 
 come to be sure ! We must do all we can to help 
 him on to his people." 
 
 " Yes ! But I don't see any chance of his cross- 
 ing the mountains until next spring," returned Mr. 
 Stuart ; " It is very late now, and no one is likely 
 to come past here who would go over the Divide at 
 this time." 
 
 " That's true," agreed Mrs. Stuart, " so we must 
 do our best to make him happy, and keep him here 
 during the winter months." 
 
 " I only hope he'll find his mother alive if he does 
 get to their ranch," remarked the Englishman dubi- 
 ously. " From what he told me she must have been 
 very ill when she left Longview, and I should be 
 afraid the shock of his supposed death might have 
 killed her." 
 
 " Oh ! Tom. How dreadful ! " exclaimed his wife, 
 quite distressed. " I can't bear to think of such, a
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 295 
 
 sad thing. I am sure the little fellow's heart would 
 break with grief." 
 
 " Well ! We will sincerely hope for the best, 
 dear," said her husband, "and trust he will find 
 her strong and well. She ought to be proud of her 
 son, for it's a plucky thing for such a child to at- 
 tempt a journey like this." 
 
 " Come and look at him," said the lady, rising and 
 leading the way into the other room, while her hus- 
 band followed her. 
 
 " Poor little Jack," she said softly, " and poor 
 Mother ! How thankful she will be to see him 
 again, after such a long separation. Fancy, Tom, 
 if it had been our own little laddie ! " 
 
 Her heart went out to the sleeping boy, and bend- 
 ing down she kissed him lightly on the forehead. 
 Jack stirred uneasily in his sleep and muttered 
 " Mother." 
 
 The word brought tears to Mrs. Stuart's eyes as 
 she turned again to her husband saying, " Do you 
 hear that, Tom ? His thoughts are with her by day, 
 and he dreams of her at night. ' It is most touching." 
 
 " He is certainly a devoted little chap to his 
 mother," said Mr. Stuart. " I wonder what the 
 children will think of him ? " 
 
 " They will be delighted to have a playfellow, and 
 I expect they will never tire of listening to his ad- 
 ventures. We must leave him now till to-morrow," 
 and with another tuck in of the blanket round the 
 boy, they left him still undisturbed for the night.
 
 296 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 JACK'S VISIT AT SWIFT CREEK KANCH. 
 
 THE next morning Jack felt some one shaking 
 him gently, and murmured drowsily, " I'm so sleepy, 
 Pedro. It can't be time to get up yet," and then 
 he opened his eyes to find Mr. Stuart standing by 
 the sofa. 
 
 Jack woke up thoroughly at the sight of him, and 
 remembering where he must be, jumped up, exclaim- 
 ing, "Am. I very late, sir?" 
 
 " No, my boy ; but we have all finished breakfast, 
 and as I felt sure you must be ravenous after your 
 long fast, I thought it wiser to wake you up. 
 You'll like to have a wash and a brush, and then 
 come into the kitchen." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Jack, following him, and 
 after a good wash in a big basin of clear creek water, 
 he felt quite refreshed and terribly hungry. 
 
 " There's the kitchen," said Mr. Stuart, pointing 
 to a door ; " find your way in there and they'll give 
 you your breakfast. I must go to the corral." 
 
 Jack walked to the house and knocked shyly at 
 the door before entering. Mrs. Stuart greeted him 
 in a very kindly way. 
 
 " Come in, come in, Jack," she said ; " I hope you 
 are quite rested. I saw you last night, but you were 
 so tired and fast asleep, we decided not to wake you 
 up. We are very glad to see you here, and when 
 you have had your breakfast, c you must make friends 
 with my little boy and girl. Look after him well,
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 297 
 
 Martha," she said as she turned to leave the room, 
 " and give him plenty to eat." 
 
 " I'll see to him, marm," said the servant, who 
 was a rough girl, but good-nature itself. She pro- 
 ceeded to heap his plate with food, and poured trim, 
 out a cup of nice hot coffee, which smelt delicious 
 to the hungry boy. She was very proud of her hot 
 buckwheat cakes, and Jack did ample justice to 
 them, smothered as they were in butter and syrup. 
 
 When he had finished, he pleased Martha very 
 much by helping her to wash up the breakfast things, 
 and she was surprised and delighted to find how 
 careful he was in drying and putting by the cups 
 and saucers tidily in the cupboards. 
 
 He carried her in some buckets of water from tne 
 creek, and cleaned the knives. 
 
 " Is there anything else for me to do ? " he asked 
 presently. 
 
 u Can you work a bucksaw ? " she said dubiously. 
 
 "Yes! I can," returned Jack. "I cut all my 
 uncle's wood at Longview with one." 
 
 " Well ! I'd be glad enough for a few logs," she said, 
 " for the boys are so busy this morning, they've quite 
 forgot it's baking day, and I want plenty o' wood." 
 
 "' I'll cut it," cried Jack, delighted to be of use, 
 and hastened off to the wood pile. Here he found 
 the bucksaw, and cut off a number of short lengths 
 of wood. He was proceeding to split them with an 
 ax, when he found himself being surveyed by a 
 little boy and girl who were standing in front of 
 him hand-in-hand. The boy was about six, and the 
 girl a year younger, and they gazed at Jack with 
 admiring eyes. 
 
 " Are you Jack ? " asked the boy shyly. 
 
 " Yes, I am," answered Jack, smiling at him. 
 
 "Well! I'm Teddy Stuart," answered the new 
 arrival, evidently anxious to converse, " and this is 
 Rita. She's my sister. Have you a sister ? "
 
 298 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 " N"o ! I haven't," returned Jack, " but I've got a 
 mother, though," he added, not to be outdone. 
 
 " I know that," said Teddy approvingly, " and 
 you've come hundreds of miles to find her. I'd go 
 a million to see my mother, if she went away." 
 
 u Xo! You wouldn't, Teddy," broke in Rita, 
 speaking for the first time, " cos you're too little. 
 You're ever so much littler than Jack. Jack ! " she 
 went on, with a funny grave look in her face, "my 
 Daddy says you're a little hero, so I want to shake 
 hands with you." 
 
 She held out a small hand, and shook Jack's brown 
 paw very solemnly, as if it was an important cere- 
 mony. Teddy, not to be behindhand, shook hands 
 also. 
 
 " I like heroes," Eita went on. " Daddy tells me 
 stories about them doing such brave things in bat- 
 tles. What grand things have you done, Jack?" 
 
 Jack looked puzzled at this question, but Teddy 
 helped him by asking in an awe-stricken voice, "Did 
 you kill anybody, Jack ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! " returned our little friend ; " I never 
 hurt nobody but those Mexican boys as set on me 
 at Las Yegas. I tried to hurt 'em all I could," he 
 said honestly, " but they were too many of 'em and 
 they whipped me." 
 
 "I wish I'd been there," cried Teddy valiantly. 
 ".I'd have helped you, Jack, and p'raps we'd have 
 beaten them between us." 
 
 " I'm afeared they'd have had the best o' it any- 
 how," returned Jack, shaking his head. 
 
 Rita listened to this conversation with a frightened 
 look in her brown eyes, but she felt a greater re- 
 spect than heretofore for Teddy after his brave 
 speech. Mrs. Stuart joined them at this moment, 
 and seemed very pleased to see the work Jack had 
 got through since breakfast. 
 
 " You are a useful boy," she remarked pleasantly ;
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 
 
 you've wasted no time this morning. Now, chil- 
 dren, I see you have already made friends with 
 Jack. Help him to carry tliis firewood into the 
 kitchen, and then take him about and show him the 
 animals." 
 
 Delighted to be useful, Teddy and Eita helped 
 Jack to carry in the logs, and soon the big wood- 
 box behind the stove was quite full. 
 
 Then they took him off to a stable, where they 
 showed him their two little ponies which their 
 father had brought them from New York. Jack 
 had never seen such tiny creatures before. They 
 were real Shetlands, and their shaggy manes and 
 long flowing tails delighted the western boy, who 
 lingered near them as if quite -fascinated. He 
 utterly failed in his attempt to decide which he 
 liked best, Teddy's black pony "Raven," or Rita's 
 white one called " Snowball," for if the latter was 
 the prettiest, " Raven," went i\\Q fastest of the two. 
 They were dear little ponies and so quiet, they 
 followed the children about like a couple of big dogs 
 when they loosed them. 
 
 They came in their wanderings to the big corral 
 or yard, where a great excitement was going on. 
 Some cowboys were breaking in a very wild colt, 
 and it was giving them no end of trouble. Mr. 
 Stuart was present, and when he saw the children 
 he put them into a safe place to watch the proceed- 
 ings. Jack was very excited, as he had never seen 
 a really wild broncho broken in before, and was 
 most anxious to see it done. 
 
 It was so unmanageable, a cowboy had at last to 
 lasso it with a lariat and throw it down. While 
 two or three men kept it prostrate, the others 
 quickly put on a saddle and bridle and strapped the 
 " cinches " or girths up tight. The cowboy who was 
 to ride the colt then gave a signal. The men let 
 the animal struggle to its feet,, and before it was
 
 300 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 aware, the youth with a quick bound was seated in 
 the saddle. 
 
 Then began a terrible fight between the man and 
 the horse. The latter tried to get its head down 
 between it fore-legs, arching up its back and buck- 
 ing wildly about, trying to unseat its rider, who, 
 however, sat firm as a rock, holding the reins tight. 
 After the horse had plunged and reared for some 
 time, the bars of the corral were let down, and the 
 cowboy worked the refractory steed towards this 
 opening and out on the prairie. Here the animal 
 made a fresh fight for victory, and, as if inspired to 
 try another method to get free of its unwelcome 
 burden, it suddenly darted away full gallop across 
 the plain. They thundered along for miles, the 
 rider quite powerless to check the runaway, nor did 
 he wish to. He let the horse go, and at last it be- 
 gan to weary, and, of its own accord, lessened the 
 speed. Slower and slower it Avent, until it would 
 have stopped altogether if the cowboy had permitted 
 it. But this was his opportunity to show he was 
 master, and accordingly he kept the colt going on, 
 and when at last he turned its head towards home, 
 and trotted it back to the corral, its sweat-stained 
 coat, and drooping tail, showed that the victory 
 was won and the wild spirit subdued. As it carried 
 the cowboy quietly enough up to the waiting group 
 of spectators, they knew that the worst was over, 
 and the colt, after such a struggle, would never 
 give the same trouble again. 
 
 Jack was very happy at the ranch, as every one 
 took an interest in such a little traveler and* was 
 good to him. Mr. Stuart made him wild with 
 pleasure, as he said he would like to do Steve Byrne 
 a good turn for his kindness to the forlorn boy, and 
 he intended to write to him at Long-view, and offer to 
 make him one of his cowboys. Jack knew Steve 
 would like nothing better, and it pleased him to
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 301 
 
 think that his good-natured cousin would benefit 
 through him. 
 
 Jack had been only three days with the Stuarts, 
 when one evening a strange-looking vehicle, called 
 a " buckboard," drawn by an old white mule, ap- 
 proached the ranch, and a tall, wiry old man jumped 
 out and knocked at the door. He held himself very 
 erect, and although his hair was gray, he looked 
 many years younger than he really was. His ap- 
 pearance was hailed with shouts of delight, for he 
 was well known and a favorite with all. 
 
 " Come in, man ! " cried Mr. Stuart, greeting him 
 like an old friend ; " no one could be more welcome 
 than yourself. I've not seen you for months." 
 
 " I've been up in Nebraska till lately," returned 
 the man. " I stayed there a bit too long, as I ought 
 to be in the Gunnison by now. Anyhow, I couldn't 
 cross the Eange without running in to have a look 
 at you all." 
 
 "That's right, Joe," said Mr. Stuart. "You'll 
 stay here the night, of course ? Get your mule to 
 his alfafa, and come on in to supper." 
 
 The man went off to the stables, and Jack felt in 
 a great flutter of excitement, wondering if Mr. 
 Stuart meant to ask the stranger to let him accom- 
 pany him. A cowboy told him the man's name, and 
 in Jack's eyes the newcomer was to be looked upon 
 with respectful awe, for he was one of the most 
 famous hunters in the "West. He had long since 
 earned the sobriquet among other hunters of" Cham- 
 pion Joe," from the long list of triumphs he had 
 achieved in the destruction of wild animals. 
 
 Numberless mountain lions, bears, wolves, and 
 other wild creatures had fallen victims to his unerr- 
 ing aim, and many -a fierce fight for life had he had 
 with dangerous foes. The hunter's fame had 
 reached even the lonely village of Longview, and 
 his name was quite familiar to Jack.
 
 302 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. . 
 
 When Joe came in again, Mr. Stuart at once 
 opened up the subject, told Jack's story briefly, and 
 asked him to allo\v the little lad to be his com- 
 panion. 
 
 " The boy can't go alone, Joe," he said, " and I'd 
 sooner trust him to you than any one. I was going 
 to keep him here this winter, but as this opportun- 
 ity has occurred, I think it is pity to miss it, if you'll 
 take him along. His people are somewhere on the 
 Cochetopa Creek, and that can't be so ver} T far the 
 other side of the Divide." 
 
 " I'll take him for you," said the hunter. " "Where 
 is he?" 
 
 " Here, Jack, come along," called Mr. Stuart. " I 
 can tell you, you're in luck to have fallen in with 
 such a traveling companion. Here's the safest man 
 to cross the mountains with, and he is going to take 
 you with him." 
 
 Jack came forward, and looked in the grizzled, 
 tough old face with something akin to awe. The 
 bright, keen eyes looked searchingly at him in return, 
 as if their owner would read him through, and then 
 the veteran held out his hand, saying in a deep mel- 
 low voice that sounded pleasantly in Jack's ears, 
 " Well, young un ! So you and me's to be mates for 
 a spell, eh? And I'm to keep the track clear of 
 bears for you. Is that so ? " 
 
 " I'm awfully skeared of bears," returned Jack, 
 truthfully, " but I don't believe I'd be skeared of any- 
 thing much if I were along with you ; " and he 
 looked confidently at the stalwart figure of the 
 hunter. 
 
 " There's a genuine compliment for you, Joe," re- 
 marked Mr. Stuart, laughing. " You ought to ap- 
 preciate that." 
 
 " Aye 1 so I do," returned " Champion Joe," well 
 pleased with the boy's unfeigned admiration. " And 
 now, kid, can you tell me whereabouts on the
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 303 
 
 Cochetopa Creek your folks have located them- 
 selves ? " 
 
 Jack shook his head. He had come over two 
 hundred and fifty miles on that one word Cochetopa^ 
 and now, when only about sixty miles from the 
 nearest point of the creek, he had not the remotest 
 idea if his parents lived near any town or village. 
 He knew nothing beyond the name of the creek, and 
 said so. 
 
 "That's a bit awkward," said "Champion Joe," 
 " for that 'ere creek runs down from the Range for 
 about fifty miles afore it joins the river ; so I guess 
 it'll be a trifle hard to find your folks." 
 
 " My dad does freighting where he is," ventured 
 Jack. 
 
 "That's good," returned Joe, hopefully, "for 
 there's more chance o' hearin' summat o' him as we 
 get over the Range in some o' the villages we'll pass 
 through." 
 
 " I think you'd better run off to bed, Jack," said 
 Mrs. Stuart, " as you will have to be up early to-mor- 
 row morning." 
 
 " Yes," joined in the hunter, " get all the sleep you 
 can. I start first thing in the mornin', as we ain't 
 got no time to fool asvay. For all the sky's so 
 bright, I'm mighty sure there's a snowstorm not far 
 off, and I ain't one as enjoys a blizzard on the 
 Range." 
 
 Jack felt too restless to sleep much, and at last, 
 when he dozed off, he dreamt he was being pursued 
 by a bear, and it was just catching him when 
 "Champion Joe" came to his rescue, and carried 
 him away, while the bear vanished at the sight of 
 the hunter.
 
 304: A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 JACK CROSSES THE RANGE WITH " CHAMPION" JOE." 
 
 THE next morning there was a small crowd to see 
 the two travelers off, and every one seemed sorry 
 to say good-by to Jack. The children gave him 
 little keepsakes, and made him promise to come and 
 see them again. 
 
 " Good-by, Jack," said Mrs. Stuart, kindly. " I 
 hope you will get safely to your journey's end, and 
 find your father and mother well. We hope we 
 shall hear good news of you later on, and remem- 
 ber, we shall always be glad to see you here. Xext 
 time you must pay us a longer visit." 
 
 " Thank you very much, ma'am, for being so good 
 to me," said Jack, who was too overcome to say 
 much. The Stuarts had indeed treated the little 
 wanderer kindly. That morning he had begged his 
 hostess to take some of his pocket money (which 
 Pedro had already refused), but she declined to 
 accept it. 
 
 " My dear child ! " she exclaimed, quite horrified 
 at the idea, "how could you suppose we would 
 dream of taking any money from you ? " And when 
 he said good-by to her husband, the good-natured 
 Englishman slipped a twenty-dollar bill into his 
 hand, saying, " There, Jack, my boy ! you're an 
 honest lad, I feel sure, and I'd like to give you this 
 little nest-egg to help you on." 
 
 No wonder Jack was almost speechless, but his 
 new, kind friends understood and appreciated his
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 305 
 
 silent gratitude far more than if he had poured forth 
 volumes of thanks. 
 
 Mrs. Stuart had given him a warm blanket and 
 a woolen helmet for his head, and Jack found the 
 comfort of them very soon, as, though the morning 
 was bright and clear when they started, it got in- 
 tensely colder as they got higher up the mountains. 
 The road was very steep and rocky, and covered 
 with small boulders, so that it was impossible to go 
 faster than at a walk. They quickly left all ranches 
 and signs of civilization behind, and came into a 
 wonderfully wild region. Part of their way lay 
 through a dense forest of pines, where some of the 
 trees had been cut down, and dragged on one side 
 to make a rough road for travelers. It was very 
 lonely, and not a sound to be heard except the noise 
 of the wheels and the mule's feet moving over the 
 rocks. 
 
 Jack looked once or twice at fallen trunks of trees, 
 half fearing that a bear might be concealed behind 
 them, but Joe assured him there was little chance 
 of their seeing one at that time. 
 
 " Most o' 'em '11 be hybernating going to sleep 
 in their dens for the winter," he said ; " and if we 
 did meet one, he'd be more likely to run away than 
 to face us." 
 
 " Is that so ? " asked Jack in surprise. 
 
 " Yes," replied the hunter, " a bear'll avoid a man 
 as a rule, unless it's wounded or it's a she-bear with 
 cubs. Those '11 fight sure enough, and dangerous 
 things they are to tackle. We'll camp to-night at 
 a log shanty near the top o' timber-line, where a 
 mate of mine nearly lost his life. I'll tell you the 
 story after supper." 
 
 " I'd like that," cried Jack, pleased at the promise 
 of an adventure story. 
 
 Before long, they had to get out of the buckboard 
 and walk to help the mule, which found it hard 
 
 20-
 
 306 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 enough to drag up any weight at all. It was very 
 tiring for all, and none were sorry when they reached 
 the lonely little hut where they were to stay for the 
 night. " Captain," the mule, was seen to first. 
 He was put into a tiny corral or yard close by, and 
 given plenty of " baled" or compressed hay, which 
 is always carried by people in wagons traveling long 
 distances, where fodder is hard to procure. " Cap- 
 tain " at once set to work to enjoy his well-earned 
 meal and rest, while Joe and Jack lit a fire and 
 cooked their supper, which they also relished. 
 
 After they had finished, Champion Joe got out 
 his pipe and started it ; then, seating himself on a 
 clump of wood he had rolled into the hut, he began 
 his story. 
 
 " This mate of mine who got into this trouble 
 with a bear was a rash young fellow who didn't 
 know what danger meant, and often laughed and 
 said he'd like to meet a bear as could scare him. 
 About four years ago he was mining up here, and 
 living in this very shanty. He was drilling in the 
 rock for ore, and had a fair-sized prospect-hole, 
 when one day he was comin' back here for his grub, 
 and came face to face with a bear as had two cubs 
 with her. Of course he ought to have run back to 
 his prospect-hole, where he'd have been safe enough 
 till she'd cleared off away. But, no ! he was that 
 reckless, he went straight for her and attacked her 
 with his pickax, which was the only weapon he had. 
 He'd no chance, however, against her, and many a 
 time has he told me the terrible feeling he had when 
 he struck out at her with all his might and jest 
 missed her. She sent the pickax flying out of his 
 hands the next moment, leaving him quite at her 
 mercy. She caught him, and hugged and mangled 
 him terribly. He'd jest sense enough left to re- 
 member that he'd once heard as a bear won't touch 
 a- dead,, man, so he, poor chap, tried it on as a last
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 307 
 
 chance for life. He lay quite stiff and quiet, and 
 lucky for him the trick succeeded. She loosed her 
 grip of him, and sniffed and sniffed round him, until 
 I guess she thought she mast have finished him off. 
 Then she went away with her cubs and left him. 
 My mate jest managed to crawl in here and shut 
 the door, and here I found him an hour later, as 
 near dead as any man I ever saw. The bear had 
 torn him dreadfully and bitten him, and I tell you 
 he took some nursing to pull him through ; but he 
 did live, and is going still. However, you may be 
 sure as he don't scoff and joke any more about bears." 
 
 " I should think not, indeed," said Jack. " "What 
 an escape he had ! Did the bear come back again ? " 
 
 " No," answered Joe ; " I followed her up care- 
 fully, and shot her with that 'ere rifle of mine as you 
 see there in the corner. But I didn't fool with her, 
 for I've done more bear-hunting than any man in 
 the States, and know by experience you must be 
 cautious. Yes, 1 killed her, and the two cubs as 
 well. She was a grizzly, and a fierce un, too." 
 
 " Are there many different kinds of bear on these 
 mountains ? " asked Jack, who was very interested 
 in the subject. 
 
 " A good many," returned the hunter. " "We've 
 got the black, brown, and cinnamon bears, which '11 
 avoid you if they can ; and then we've the grizzlies 
 and silver-tipped bears, which are a kind of grizzly. 
 The latter ain't quite so fierce as the real grizzly, 
 but ain't pleasant to face when they're wounded." 
 
 Joe went on to tell how hunters tracked the 
 creatures by the way they tore up ant-holes and 
 rolled over big stones in their clumsy way of walk- 
 ing. They were often caught in traps set for them 
 at the time when the wild raspberries and goose- 
 berries were ripe, as then they came wandering 
 down along the creeks, looking for the berries they 
 liked so well.
 
 308 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 Next morning, before they started, Joe showed 
 Jack the exact spot where the fight had taken 
 place between the miner and the bear, and then 
 they put " Captain " into the blackboard, and began 
 the last stage of the ascent. 
 
 It was a wonderfully clear day, and as they looked 
 down the country lay spread out below them like a 
 gigantic map. The ranches, creeks, and villages all 
 looked so tiny and scattered to them, gazing as they 
 did over hundreds of miles of prairie land. 
 
 Above them the sharp peaks seemed to pierce the 
 keen blue sky, and the snow still lying on the 
 mountain sides was so dazzling from the sun's rays 
 that " Champion Joe " put on a pair of dark blue 
 " ggol es >" an d tied a piece of black veiling over 
 Jack's face, to protect their eyes from getting snow- 
 blind. 
 
 Higher and higher they went slowly on, and Joe 
 remarked, " Well, Jack, I guess we're about as near 
 heaven on earth to-day, in one way of speaking, as 
 you've ever been in your life afore, eh ? Don't it 
 look close ? But, I say, young un, what's up ? " 
 
 " I don't know," said Jack, very faintly. " I've 
 gone to feel so queer. I can hardly breathe, and 
 my head aches as if it were going to burst." 
 
 " Lie down, Jack, for a bit," said the hunter, 
 kindly. " It's the great height as we're up. This 
 air affects some folks terribly. I've seen strong 
 men helpless and hardly able to move, lower down 
 than we are. We're close to the top now, so we'll 
 wait till you feel a bit better." 
 
 Jack did feel better after a short rest, and, with 
 Joe's help, managed to creep slowly on, although he 
 felt very ill. At the top they found it bitterly cold, 
 as some clouds had rolled rapidly up in a few hours 
 and obscured the bright sun. Jack shivered in 
 spite of the blanket Joe wrapped him in. The 
 descent on the other side of the range was even.
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE 309 
 
 harder on the mule than the terrible up-hill drag, 
 and Joe had to tie the wheels of the buckboard to 
 prevent it running onto " Captain." The road was 
 so steep and stony, he could hardly keep his footing 
 at times, and in one place there was nothing but a 
 broad ledge cut out of the side of a rock, with a 
 natural wall on one side and a terrible precipice 
 sloping away on the other. 
 
 It made Jack feel so giddy looking down such an 
 awful depth, that Joe, seeing how white he was, 
 advised him to hold on to the back of the buckboard 
 and keep his eyes fixed on the mule. 
 
 " Trust yourself to ' Captain,' " he said, " and I 
 promise you he ain't likely to go over that, if cau- 
 tion is of any account. He ain't the one to lose 
 his head on roads like this, as he knows 'em so 
 well." 
 
 Jack followed the advice given him, and got on 
 much better, and when they had got down a little 
 way, his head felt less heavy, and he soon was all 
 right again. 
 
 Towards evening they approached a small settle- 
 ment at the foot of the pass, called Redwood. As 
 they drove in, they found the people in a state of 
 great excitement. The Sheriff of the county had 
 run down and caught a band of horse-thieves just out- 
 side the village a few hours before. The Sheriff and 
 his men had won the fight, captured the thieves, and 
 secured the stolen horses in corrals through the vil- 
 lage. The place was almost in an uproar, and our 
 travelers had some difficulty in finding a place 
 where they could lodge themselves and their mule 
 for the night. The Sheriff and his party seemed to 
 fill the village, and some of the crowd round the 
 jail, where the horse-thieves were imprisoned, never 
 moved away all night, fearing the robbers might try 
 to break out before morning, when they were to be 
 escorted by a strong body of men to the nearest
 
 310 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 town to await their trial. Jack, however, was too 
 tired to enter much into the great excitement going 
 on, and was glad enough, after some supper, to wrap 
 himself up in his blanket, and go to sleep on the 
 floor of a tiny shanty outside the village.
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIKIE. 3H 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 AT LAST. 
 
 THE next morning Jack was quite rested and 
 very eager to join Joe, who proposed they should 
 go and see the s&rt of the prisoners. They walked 
 towards the jail, and arrived there just as the party 
 were starting. The horse-thieves, eight in number, 
 were riding in the midst of a band of well-armed 
 horsemen, who were ever on the alert to detect the 
 first attempt to escape from any of the prisoners, 
 who were all pinioned. They were a sullen, des- 
 perate-looking set of men, who scowled fiercely at 
 the restless crowd as they surged round them, 
 almost pushing against the horses in their efforts to 
 see all they could of the far-famed, evil gang, who 
 at last had fallen into the hands of justice. At a 
 signal from the Sheriff the little band moved away, 
 and slowly trotted out of sight. When they had 
 disappeared from view, every one followed the 
 Sheriff (who had remained behind with two of his 
 men) near a big corral, where the captured horses 
 were still standing. 
 
 Jack and Joe went with the crowd and stood 
 looking at the horses, while the Sheriff began busily 
 entering the different brands marked on the animals 
 in his note-book. 
 
 " What's that for ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " To help find out the owners," returned Joe. 
 " You see the Sheriff '11 advertise these brands, and
 
 312 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 the colors of the horses, and then, folks as have lost 
 any '11 come and identify 'em." 
 
 Suddenly Jack gave a cry of delight, and clam- 
 bering over the bars of the corral, rushed into the 
 midst of the loose horses towards a yellow-coated 
 broncho. He flung his arms round the horse's neck 
 and fairly hugged it. Then, keeping hold of the 
 shaggy mane, he led the animal towards the bars, 
 where his friend stood staring in astonishment. 
 
 " Joe," he cried, half crying with joy, " here's 
 ' Buckskin,' our old ' Buck,' as I've told you about." 
 
 Every one looked at the excited boy, and the 
 Sheriff glanced rather suspiciously at him, for, 
 strange to say, the brand on the yellow broncho 
 had puzzled him more than all the others, being 
 quite unknown to him. 
 
 He called out sharply, " Say ! what does that boy 
 know about that horse ? Tell him to come here." 
 
 Jack led " Buckskin " up to where he stood, and 
 said quietly, " This horse belongs to my dad. Here's 
 his brand, V. C., on his hip, and he has an old scar 
 that was done once when he was shot just afore we 
 got him." 
 
 " Where is it ? " asked the Sheriff, dubiously. 
 
 " Here ! " returned Jack, promptly, as he lifted 
 " Buckskin's " mane and showed the place plain 
 enough where a bullet had once passed through the 
 neck. " I could swear to ' Buckskin ' anywhere." 
 
 " You're right, my lad," said the Sheriff, after 
 looking carefully at the scar. "And who's your 
 dad ? " 
 
 " George Wilson," answered Jack. " He lives on 
 the Cochetopa Creek, and freights up and down the 
 mountains." 
 
 " Does any one know George Wilson, of Coche- 
 topa Creek ? " asked the Sheriff, appealing to the 
 crow r d. 
 
 A man stood forward and said, " I guess I saw
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 313 
 
 the man you want last week, if he's an Englishman. 
 I didn't know his name, for he's only just moved 
 up to a small ranch about fifteen miles from here. 
 I do believe when I met him as he was drivin' a 
 sorrel broncho, the same color as that one, but I 
 never noticed the brand." 
 
 " Joe ! Joe ! d'you hear that ? " exclaimed Jack, 
 in his joyful surprise forgetting the Sheriff and 
 every one else. " We're close to home after all. 
 Isn't it grand ? " 
 
 The Sheriff looked puzzled at this outburst, until 
 "Champion Joe," who was well known to him, 
 came forward and briefly told Jack's story. He 
 also testified to Jack's good character, and finally 
 persuaded the officer to give over the stolen horse 
 into their hands. A proud boy was our hero when, 
 a few hours later, he drove out of Redwood in Joe's 
 buckboard, having " Buckskin " securely fastened 
 on behind. 
 
 The weather had decidedly changed since the day 
 before, and the sky looked dark and lowering as 
 they drove along the prairie road. Jack, however, 
 was in the wildest spirits, as he drew so close to the 
 end of his long journey, and thought how soon he 
 would see his dear Father and Mother. 
 
 " "We'll make your home by evening if we have 
 good luck," said Joe, cheerfully ; " but I'm feared 
 as we're in for a snowstorm, and may be a blizzard." 
 
 Joe was right. As they got a little further on 
 their way, the snow began to fall in heavy flakes, 
 and faster and faster they came down. Worse still ! 
 Far away up in the mountains above them they 
 could hear a warning roar that proclaimed the ad- 
 vent of a prairie storm. Joe urged " Captain " on 
 with all his might. 
 
 " We're in for a blizzard," he cried ; " it's coming 
 on quick, and '11 soon overtake us. Cochetopa Creek 
 is only a few miles ahead of us now, and if we could
 
 314: A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 fet that far we'd find quaking aspens that would 
 reak the worst of the storm, and we could shelter 
 there till morning." 
 
 On they struggled, but the cold was intense, and 
 long before they could reach the creek the blizzard 
 struck them with full force. The snow froze as it 
 fell, and cat their faces, while the icy tempest 
 whirled up clouds of these sharp particles, blinding 
 Joe. He made Jack get under the tough Buffalo 
 robe, but the fierce cold was penetrating even 
 through that. In a short time Joe found they had 
 wandered off the road, and after driving aimlessly 
 about in the storm, trying to find it again, he had at 
 last to give it up and acknowledge that they were 
 lost. It was an awful sensation, and Joe was puzzled 
 how to proceed, as " Captain " stood with his back 
 to the storm and refused to stir. 
 
 The hunter knew they must all freeze to death if 
 they sta} r ed there any length of time, and he deter, 
 mined to try the only expedient left, which was to 
 abandon the buckboard and trust themselves to 
 the animals. 
 
 With difficulty he put a bridle ^on "Buckskin," 
 w r ho was trembling with fright and cold, and, hoist- 
 ing Jack up on his back, managed to tie him on 
 with a bit of rope. He then unharnessed the mule 
 and scrambled on it himself. 
 
 " We must try and keep together, if possible," 
 said he ; " and now, off we go ! " 
 
 The animals plunged forward amidst the drifting 
 snow and shrieking storm, but in a few minutes 
 they were swept apart, and Jack missed his com- 
 panion. He pulled up and called in vain for Joe ; 
 but the storm roared round, drowning everything 
 in the darkness. At last Jack felt the wisest thing 
 was to leave himself entirely to " Buckskin," and not 
 even try to guide him. The cold was beginning to 
 stupefy the boy, and he had a strange feeling of
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 315 
 
 numbness growing over him. The good old horse 
 plodded steadily on, while Jack laid the reins on his 
 back, saying with a sob, " Go on ' Buck,' I shall die 
 soon if you don't save me." Suddenly " Buckskin " 
 stopped, and, although Jack had just sense to be 
 aware of it, he was quite unable to rouse himself 
 from the deadly stupor he had fallen into, and 
 without the rope that tied him on " Buckskin " he 
 would long before have slipped off on to the ground. 
 But help was at hand. " Buckskin " had stopped by 
 some bars. Like all prairie horses he was very 
 clever, and, finding his rider made no effort to get 
 off and put the bars down for him, he set to work 
 to try and do it himself. He got his head under the 
 top pole, and lifted it up in its place until one end 
 fell down. He was working at the second, when a 
 dog's bark sounded close by, and very soon a light 
 appeared in the doorway of a small log-house inside 
 the bars, as a man came out and looked about. 
 
 It was too dark for him to see the horse outside, 
 and Jack was quite unconscious by this time, so it 
 would have fared badly with our friends in the 
 storm if the dog had not plunged forward over 
 the snow and commenced barking frantically round 
 them. This surprised the man, and, having got a 
 lantern, he came towards the bars. 
 
 " What is it, Jim ? Only coyotes, I believe. You 
 silly old dog ! " he said at first, as the dog rushed 
 back to him ; but as he got closer, he saw the dark 
 form of a horse. 
 
 "Hello! What have we here?" he exclaimed, 
 as he let down the bars. " A loose horse ! Why, I 
 declare, it's old ' Buck' back again ! But what 'has 
 he got on his back ? It looks like a child I " 
 
 He quickly led the horse to the door, and by the 
 light of the lantern untied the rope, and carried the 
 motionless figure into the house. 
 
 " Here, wife," he called out, " come and see to
 
 316 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 this child, while I take the horse to the stable. It's 
 the strangest thing I ever knew. * Buck ' gets 
 stolen, and to-night I find him at the bars in this 
 blizzard, with a kid on his back ! " 
 
 A woman took the boy and laid him on a couch 
 some distance from the fire. She then removed the 
 blanket, and was chafing the stiff limbs to bring 
 back the circulation, when her husband returned, 
 having made " Buckskin " as comfortable as possi- 
 ble in his own stable. 
 
 " Look ! he's coming round a bit," said the woman, 
 hopefully. " Pour some warm coffee between his 
 lips." 
 
 The man obeyed, and the liquid seemed to revive 
 the unconscious boy. He sighed and opened his 
 eyes. He saw a gentle face bending over him, 
 which was familiar, indeed, to him. 
 
 " Oh, Mother darling ! I ain't dead, and I've 
 found you at last ! " was his joyful cry, and the 
 next moment he was folded in her loving arms. 
 
 Such a meeting as this one between Jack and his 
 long-lost parents is indescribable, and we must draw 
 a veil over the first few hours of their happy re- 
 union. 
 
 " Oh, George," said the comforted mother later 
 on, when Jack had quite recovered, " isn't it won- 
 derful how it all happened? To think that old 
 ' Buck ' should have brought our own little Jack 
 to our very door ! " 
 
 " Yes, indeed," returned her husband. " What a 
 merciful thing it was that ' Jim ' heard them at the 
 bars, for Jack was very nearly done for with the 
 awful cold." 
 
 Tears of joy had poured down the cheeks of the 
 parents when they discovered it was really their 
 darling who had come to them in the storm, and 
 they did not forget to kneel down and thank God 
 for His marvelous preservation of their child.
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 317 
 
 "Mother," said Jack, "you were right; you told 
 me to ask God to take care of us until we met again, 
 and He has done it." 
 
 " Yes. that He has ! " returned his mother ; " and 
 we have much to thank Him for." 
 
 " You stick to Him right through your life, Jack, 
 as you've begun," said George Wilson, solemnly, 
 "for He's the best guide and protector any man 
 can have." 
 
 " I will, Daddy," answered the boy, firmly. 
 
 Jack was soon able to give an account of his ad- 
 venture in the blizzard, and expressed great anxiety 
 about the fate of his friend, " Champion Joe." 
 
 " It's madness to look for him to-night," said 
 George Wilson, " but I'll be out first thing and seek 
 him in the morning." 
 
 It was a great relief to them all when about day- 
 break the next day they were roused by a knock at 
 the door, which proved to be the hunter himself. 
 He had come to ask for help in finding Ms missing 
 companion, and you may imagine his joyful surprise, 
 to learn that Jack, in spite of the storm, had safely 
 reached home and his journey was over ! The mule 
 had managed to struggle to the creek, where he and 
 his master had sheltered among the quaking aspens 
 until morning, the latter being in an agony of mind 
 all night about Jack. 
 
 The buckboard was brought to the Wilsons' house 
 with great difficulty during the day, and "Buck- 
 skin " and " Ruf us " had to lend their services to 
 drag it, light as it was, through the terrible snow- 
 drifts. The road was so bad "Champion Joe" had 
 to stay two or three days with Jack's people, but he 
 never grudged the delay, as he had become very 
 fond of his little traveling companion, and he was 
 delighted to see the happiness of the three who had 
 been parted so long. 
 
 Jack's mother had grown much stronger, and
 
 318 A YANKEE LAD'S PLUCK. 
 
 there was every hope of her perfect recovery after 
 a longer residence in their new home. 
 
 The evening of the next day after his return 
 home, Jack was sitting with the others round the 
 stove, and with his hand clasped tight in his 
 mother's, gave them an outline of his adventures 
 through which we have followed him. They listened 
 breathlessly, and the mother grew pale at the de- 
 scription of his desertion and subsequent illness. 
 What risks her child had run ! 
 
 When he had finished they were all silent for a 
 short time ; then his mother said, " God has been 
 good to us. Here have we been mourning you as 
 dead, and all the time He was leading you to us 
 through all these perils and dangers. Have you 
 forgot the hymns we used to sing at Longview, 
 Jack ? " 
 
 " Xo, jMother, I've sung them many a time. Jeff 
 and Pedro liked to hear them ever so well. Let's 
 have some to-night." 
 
 " We will, Jack," said his father. " It would be 
 quite like the old days." 
 
 Soon the log-house resounded with their voices 
 as they sang their favorite hymns. When they had 
 finished up with the last lines of 
 
 " And nightly pitch my moving tent 
 A day's march nearer home," 
 
 Jack exclaimed, " Somehow I feel as if I've got safe 
 home now ! " 
 
 " Nay, laddie, not yet," said his mother, gently. 
 " We can never get to our true home until we have 
 passed through the dark valley of death. We are 
 all wanderers here, and in the same way as the 
 thought of this earthly home and Dad and me 
 cheered you on through your journey, so should the 
 thought of our Heavenly home, and our Father 
 awaiting us, help us to face the trials and troubles
 
 LEFT ON THE PRAIRIE. 319 
 
 we must meet all our lives through. And now, my 
 dearie, it's getting late. Let me put you to bed." 
 
 Shortly after, with her loving kiss on his fore- 
 head, Jack, who had so often felt sad and lonely at 
 Long view, fell asleep with a happy smile on his 
 face. 
 
 For the sake of dead Aunt Sue the "Wilsons never 
 wrote a word of reproach to their deceitful brother- 
 in-law, who left Longview very soon after Jack's 
 disappearance. 
 
 Jack had not seen the last of the good friends he 
 had made on his journey. He went often to Swift 
 Creek Ranch, where he saw not only the Stuarts 
 but also Pedro and Sefior at times. Steve became 
 one of Mr. Stuart's cowboys, where he was perfectly 
 happy and gave every satisfaction. 
 
 Mr. Stuart also promised Jack that when he was 
 old enough, if he still wished it, he should join his 
 band of cowboys, and with this promise Jack was 
 quite content. About a year after Jack's reunion 
 with his parents Steve, in, one of the "round-ups" 
 of cattle, came across Jeff Ralston, who was thank- 
 ful to hear that, contrary to all his sad anticipations, 
 the boy had not, after all, perished on the prairie. 
 
 And now, safe in his happy home, after all he had 
 gone through, we must say good-by to little Jack, 
 leaving him growing up still the same devoted boy 
 to his parents as the little fellow who so bravely set 
 out on his tremendous journey, determined in spite 
 of all danger and difficulties to find Mother and 
 Cochetopa Creek ! 
 
 THE END.
 
 A, L. Burt's Catalogue of Books for 
 Young People by Popular Writers, 52- 
 58 Duane Street, New York x x ^ 
 
 BOOKS FOR BOYS. 
 
 Joe's Luck: A Boy's Adventures in California. By 
 
 HORATIO ALGER, JR. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00 
 The story is chock fll of stirring incidents, while the amusing situ- 
 ations are furnished by Joshua Bickford, from Pumpkin Hollow, and the 
 fellow who modestly styles himself the "Rip-tail Roarer, from Pike Co., 
 Missouri." Mr. Alger never writes a poor book, and "Joe's Luck" is cer- 
 tainly one of his best. 
 
 Tom the Bootblack; or, The Eoad to Success. By 
 
 HORATIO ALGER. JR. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 A bright, enterprising lad was Tom the Bootblack. He was not at all 
 ashamed of his humble calling, though always on the lookout to better 
 himself. The lad started for Cincinnati to look up his heritage. Mr. 
 Grey, th-? uncle, did not- hesitate to employ a ruffian to kill the lad. The 
 plan failed, and Gilbert Grey, once Tom the bootblack, came into a com- 
 fortable fortune. This is one of Mr. Alger's best stories. 
 
 Dan the Newsboy. By HORATIO ALGER, JR. 12mo, 
 
 cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 Dan Mordaunt and his mother live in a poor tenement, and the lad la 
 pluckily trying to make ends meet by selling papers in the streets of New 
 York. A little heiress of six yeai-s is confided to the care of the Mor- 
 daunts. The child is kidnapped and Dan tracks the child to the house 
 where she is hidden, and rescues her. The wealthy aunt of the little 
 heiress is so delighted with Dau's courage and many good qualities 
 that she adopts him as her heir. 
 
 Tony the Hero: A Brave Boy's Adventure with a 
 
 Tramp. By HORATIO ALGER, JR. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 Tony, a sturdy bright-eyed boy of fourteen, is under the control of 
 Rudolph Rugg, a thorough rascal. After much abuse Tony runs away 
 and gets a job as stable boy in a country hotel. Tony is heir to a 
 large estate. Rudolph for a consideration hunts up Tony and throws 
 him down a deep well. Of course Tony escapes from the fate provided 
 for him, and by a brave act, a rich friend secures his rights and Tony 
 is prosperous. A very entertaining book. 
 
 The Errand Boy; or, How Phil Brent Won Success. 
 
 By HORATIO ALGER, JR. 12mo, cloth illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 The career of "The Errand Boy" embraces the city adventures of a 
 mart country lad. Philip was brought up by a kind-hearted innkeeper 
 named Brent. The death of Mrs. Brent paved the way for the hero's 
 subsequent troubles. A retired merchant in New York secures him the 
 situation of errand boy, and thereafter stands as his friend. 
 
 Tom Temple's Career. By HORATIO ALGER, JR. 12mo, 
 
 cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 Tom Temple is a bright, self-reliant lad. He leaves Plympton village 
 to seek work in New York, whence he undertakes an important mission 
 to California. Some of his adventures In the far west are so startling that 
 the reader will scarcely close the book until the last page shall have been 
 reached. The tale is written in Mr. Alger's most fascinating style. 
 
 For sale by aU booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by th9 
 publisher, A. L. BUKT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.
 
 2 A. L. HURT'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 
 
 BOOKS FOR BOYS. 
 
 Frank Fowler, the Cash Boy. By HORATIO ALGER, JR. 
 
 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 Frank Fowler, a poor boy. bravely determines to make a living for 
 himself and his foster-sister Grace. Going to New York he obtains a 
 situation as cash boy in a dry goods store. He renders a service to a 
 wealthy old gentleman who takes a fancy to the lad, and thereafter 
 helps the lad to gain success and fortune. 
 
 Tom Thatcher's Fortune. By HORATIO ALGER, JR. 
 
 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 Tom Thatcher is a brave, ambitious, unselfish boy. He supports his 
 mother and sister on meagre wages earned as a shoe-pegger in John 
 Simpson's factory. Tom is discharged from the factory and starts over- 
 land for California. He meets with many adventures. The story is told 
 in a way which has made Mr. Alger's name a household word In so many 
 homes. 
 
 The Train Boy. By HORATIO ALGER, JR. 12mo, 
 
 cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 Paul Palmer was a wide-awake boy of sixteen who supported his mother 
 and sister by selling books and papers on the Chicago and Milwaukee* 
 Railroad. He detects a young man in the act of picking the pocket of a 
 young lady. In a railway accident many passengers are killed, but Paul 
 Is fortunate enough to assist a Chicago merchant, who out of gratitude 
 takes him into his employ. Paul succeeds with tact and Judgment and 
 Is well started on the road to business prominence. 
 
 Mark Mason's Victory. The Trials and Triumphs of 
 
 a Telegraph Boy. By HORATIO AIXJER, JB. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 
 
 $1.00. 
 
 Mark Mason, the telegraph boy, was a sturdy, honest lad, who plucklly 
 won his way to success by his honest manly efforts under many diffi- 
 culties. This story will please the very large class of boys who regard 
 Mr. Alger as a favorite author. 
 
 A Debt of Honor. The Story of Gerald Lane's Success 
 
 in the Far West. By HORATIO ALGER, JR. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 
 
 $1.00. 
 
 The story of Gerald Lane and the account of the many trials and dis- 
 appointments which he passed through before he attained success, will 
 interest all boys who have read the previous stories of this delightful 
 author. 
 
 Ben Bruce. Scenes in the Life of a Bowery Newsboy. 
 
 By HORATIO ALGER. JR. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 Ben Bruce was a brave, manly, generous boy. The story of his efforts, 
 and many seeming failures and disappointments, and his final success, are 
 most interesting to all readers. The tale is written in Mr. Alger's 
 most fascinating style. 
 
 The Castaways; or, On the Florida Eeefs. By JAMES 
 
 OTIS. 12rao, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 
 
 This tale smacks of the salt sea. From the moment that the Sea 
 Queen leaves lower New Yortc bay till the breeze leaves her becalmed off 
 the coast of Florida, one can almost hear the whistle of the wind 
 through her rigging, the creak of her straining cordage as she heels to 
 the leeward. The adventures of Ben Clark, the hero of the storv and 
 Jake the cook, cannot fail to charm the reader. As a writer for young 
 people Mr. Otis is a prime favorite. 
 
 For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the 
 publisher, A, L. BTJRT, 52-58 Duane Street, Nev York.
 
 A 000051 183 2