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paki three.
THE SNAKE’S MARK.
l, oinß „„ Account Of the Finding of
,l,c Lot Treasure of the Hnllo
rvell Family.
ropviiglit. 1898. by the S. S. McClure Cos.
CHAPTER VIII.
A Compact of Scoundrels.
When Gabriel Murrin saw the boat com
lrg out from the smoke of the fire and
,l,e whirl of the sea, rts the conquered
f , hooner sank, he stopped dancing about
and grinning in the faces of his victorious
cr.w and peered at It with a vexed dis
r ,v as a tiger might on a mangled prey
™ m e again to life. Oziel gazed anxiously,
(00 , but with very different purpose.
Thank heaven!" cried the New Eng
lander. as the boat came steadily on and
h( paw in the stern the familiar form of his
friend Justin, most pale and agitated, but
at least alive and apparently unhurt.
Gabriel turned on him growling and
showing his scant yellow teeth.
• For what," he snarled viciously, “have
we f unk the trap? That the rats should
escape ?"
■ Tis Justin, your nephew, safe, d’ye
see?”
"If he sail With pirates let him sink with
pirates,” cried Gabriel, too heated yet to
I control his words, and Oziel turned on him
I indignantly, but at that moment the boat
I drew very near, and Master Dixey Lynch
I stood up in the stern. With him were Jus-
I tin. Donnereau, Noll Dade and two others
I from his South Bay hiding place. Dixey
I hat) had time to cool; he was perfect mas-
I trr of himself, and, one would think from
I his careless manner, of the situation. He
I placed his hand to his cap and flourished
I it thence toward Gabriel with a cordial
I smile and a ready grace.
I 'I have the honor to congratulate you,
■ friend Gabriel,” said he. "The Susannah
I was handled most handsomely nnd your
■ marksmanship was excellent. And how do
■ you do? You look, if I may venture it,
■ fatigued.”
■ Gabriel hissed and spluttered and stamp
■el lus feet. Words were impossible to him.
■ fit lent!) he gasped:
■ Sink him! Sink him, you staring, brain-
Bless, useless lubbers! Why stand you there
■ gawking? Sink him with shot! Fire on
■ him! S-n,| him to make his infernal play
■ acting ccmp.iments to the fishes! No, no!
■ Stop! Let him aboard—O, yes! Let good
HMaster Lynch aboard with his other pi-
Hrates, J 1 him aboard.”
■ And there he stood, with a devilish grin
■un his yellow face, surrounded by his
■ ran. now cut down in numbers, to about
■ a score, ready with pistols and muskets,
■ tor another thought came to him. Lynch
■ had a.i the niceties of etiquette. He
■ noul l U. the last to leave his boat, rep
■fts-nting the schooner. So, preceded by
luTenu anti the rest, tvho were dis-
H arß: e,! as ill. y reached the deck, he came
■over tin side, with all the airs, of the
■cjptttiu el a man-o'-war, and saluted.
■ At in no Justin ran to Oziel’s side.
B. W hat in the name of all the torments
■doe? this mean?" he cried, in agitation.
H' 1 y told me you had taken a boat and
■gone off and icft me! How are you here?
■nnai ship's this? How came my uncle
■] P!f • A t least, thank heaven, he’s not
■itad-not murdered!"
B 'Stay by m. ." Oziel whispered, and
■pn-ssi’d his, hand. “I’ll explain after.
■Kncre were you in the fight?”
B, Looked in the cabin!” cried the lad,
■ - l ing angrily, "like a girl! Oziel, what
■"js it ad mean? 1 suspect Lynch is
■ . ? fid Oziel, “and stand by me.”
■ ' '' ' • 'la a r Lynch,” said Gabriel, be
■ 11 his teeth, "you prefer not to
■, N"i ti> be shot,” said Dixey, coolly.
■ iv r , iv, j some damage, I regret to
01 " an, l 1 ■ ey.-d the battered schooner
BUnciously.
Aid O hat do you expect at my hands,
navi iv,i| me, that you come
■ , : bdiyGabriel asked, clench-
V’, h:s t's in an effort to restrain his
B. If> cha fit j- of a good elder of the
■“non meeting house, no doubt,” Lynch
■**eretl, with a bow. "Sure, in the pres
■”*' o. mv young Puritan farmer of your
B-' congregation. I could expect none
■ ir t.abriel. Set him a good exam-
B? v 3> becomes a Christian.”
I l '°-. you villain, you cutthroat!”
■ e3m ‘d Gabri.l, breaking out. "I’ll
B*'’ 1 you to steal my trade, to rob me of
■ opportunities, to pluck the treasure
■tn nij very hand. So! you won’t he
■ ' : " r “ ink with your ship? Then I’ll
■ ' "' '' im-dielne you gave many on
■!."'' yourself. Dixey Lynch, if all's
■. ' :i m e a broad plank to the
B‘\ ’ ' 1 bind th.se m< n and
■rl i’ So. Master Yynch, you
"W it s dime, eh? You’ve seen many
"' ok t!i" Plank, eh?”
■ ''.ui grew gray in the face, hut
Ban' f” 1 '""* traiuiuiiiy. The two other
■ .. ' : "' u, l- One of th* crew rush
"'Gn. but Oziel threw him on
Blv.V' . ,h " hynch laughed.
B?'" Rl |h" I'lie soma grower of <ur
■ "By the Mogul, Gabriel,
■inf.,"’ l,,mh again, but with it
B'n I sheep dog. And is
K'"| T'“' : " :ank ’ 00. then?"
■ w, r ; ‘' ,fa wonl. hut he and Jus-
Hp'-s s .j, 1 k ' u 9 Rather against th<*
in '* l!le youhg farmer had
■a, h ‘ l . in ‘° JusUn’-F hand. Tho
H straight into Gabriel’s
■ Justj/'V. r ". l ,ho ,rador with his plw
■ TKKi his weapon fearless
-1 n he was bewildered
Rug : r , H , n '” st " rn ’y said Oziel ot
■bt*. i . k<<l hesitatingly on his
■ toi.’i m io remember the story
li:, ((U \. m - N, w York, and that Mas
•ir * 1 ° nly ♦ vour but
j t . ° li, s ” possessions you now
H your' roa<l >' our heart, but If
joy. I .' nt lo harm him now, 1
■y h.MHi - 1 * n< r> ‘ your mon attempt
■rco i T on ,’ • tfu ‘ r him or me I shoot
r so far apparently,
t: i- ■) i# ,‘ U y ,l P°n his errand that
vm (,* ~ ' A ' v °nh while to pretend
■ , . tra 'l‘r further. Hear,.
B i’.. : WouiV’J"’. OPen * npop ’
Bl"' 1 1 ]' " kare u) that treasure,
■' If. ' T' !t ®nd your love for Jus
,r(•* Pistol. you
m f ’.r <>fh - f ln fnil h the plank is
you *‘’
■- ■ 'fully,” Lynch interrupt-
B ! !-■ y, ' mjst r °mposure, though
B”> bb,,, f „. r h " ,led i and we stood
B‘‘ and r.,, h ‘ m t 0 wa 'k the plank.
■ b.ui ,i e,’ suggeft, dear Ga-
Bl'"" ~r if. a p" 1 ’ 1 >* unwise.”
■ Jiibnei, amazed at his
fl °nu .id,. n crei Donnereau,
U!)e Utotfmns Ifototp.
who is blaek by blood, but French by ;
training among the settlers of Hayti, will I
avlvise you with me, dear Gabriel, that to ’
make young Justin Hailowell walk the i
plank—which I observe, you have had
placed in a very creditable way for a lie
pinner—would be, as I said, unwise. He
knows something of the people you go
among, and know's, therefore, the value !
or this.”
. And he touched his own forehead, and
pointed to Justin’s brows signiflcantlv.
Gabriel was quick to take a hint. He had
toil! Oziel truly when he had said that he
<i"l not know why Lynch took Justin with
At once , his fury cooling, he uaw
that he was not in the whole secret of the
lost treasure. He was ready to fight for
it with his men and guns—ready to cheat
for it, but he began to perceive something
more might be needed than these. He
looked at Donnereau and Lynch and then
them to Justin and Lynch.
As lor him,” said Lynch, noting that
last glance, and nodding at Oziel, "I have
shot at him, and Upped him overboard in a
gale, and left him behind in an uninhabi
ted place to sarve, and there he is again,
with his big, broad farmer's face and his
saucy tongue. By San Domingo, I am most
eager to see, Master Murrin, if you have
better success than Dixey Lynch. Think
you he would cheat the plank also?”
Gabriel grinhed in sympathy. He had as
little use for the inconveniently honest
Oziel as Lynch himself. This was not the
first lime he had felt sorry he had been
forced to carry the lad by so imprudently
telling Sir Roger’s story. His face approv
ed the proposal, but Oziel's plstoi still
pointed at him, and now Justin cried cut
in bitter rage, and with loyalty to his
friend.
"Dare do it!” he cried,” and you have
me to count with. I know not what devil
ish trick you be playing between you, but
i am blinded no longer by false friendship,
Master Lynch. What means it?” he ques
tioned passionately. “How is this sad
birthmark of value to you, if your purpose
be honest? What meant it when I woke
the other night and found that poor crazy
wretch, Noel Dade, on his knees by my
side? What has that black ill-omened
man to do with me, who prates of my poor
father as if ho had power over our for
tunes? Why, if you mean aright and hon
estly, should you part me from my true
friend? And why should Gabriel Murrin,
who hated me since I was a babe, now
hasten after me as though he loved?"
The passionate lad poured out such ques
tions in a torrent aroused at last to keen
est suspicion- He was quivering with in?
dignation now, and as his wrath increased
with his words, the weird mark of the
snake stood out bold and red on his brow.
At that sight Noll Dade, bound as he was,
broke from the side of the other prisoners,
and ran across the deck, throwing himself
at Justin's feet, groveling like a heathen
to an idol.
“Master,” he cried. “Great master, show
thy power.”
Justin spurned the creature with disgust.
"That!” he cried. “What means that
hideous worship? But let me warn you.
If my life be so precious to your purposes,
you two secret men, as makes you, Lynch,
preserve me from harm in your battle in
your locked cabin, and you, Uncle Ga
briel, pause now when you would willing
ly have sent me to the witches' trial. I
warn you, if you hurt Oziel you hurt me!
Fool was I to hark to your romance of
southern treasures, and turn a deaf ear
to him, who would have had me avoid
you. Now 'tis he and I, and plank or pis
tol, cutlass or the sea, we fight together
to that death—mark you, together!”
There was no room, no time for words,
but tho comrades touched elbow to elbow
then, and Oziel felt paid, that one mo
ment, for all past coldness and neglect.
Sincere and righteous rage makes the
boldest shrink. As Justin, who hitherto
had shown himself so boyish and 60 fret
ful, whose passions, hot for the instant,
had been so easily soothed with a smile,
a soft word and a song, cried out thtis.
Even the resortful Lynch was perplexed,
and Gabriel twisted 6quirmingly. Yet he
spoke first.
“Master Lynch,” he said, with an at
tempt at the lost dignity of the elder, "if
so be thou hast excuses for thy treach
ery, ’twere well to hear them in private.”
And so, with no further word of plank
or prisoners, he slipped aft to his little
private cabin, and Lynch and Donnereau,
at his beck, followed him.
The others remained as they were. Jus
tin and Oziel facing the rest, pistol In
hand, Noll Dade wriggling by them, mut
tering to himself, and looking up in Jus
tin's face with the whining deprecatory
appeal of a slave, a manner which filled
both the lads with a loathing as for things
unnatural, yet, perplexed them fearingly.
The stolid Salem man, one of those hap
pily constituted men whom nothing dis
turbs so long as they are obeying the or
ders of the man who pays them, a stout
and soulless thing, like a typical police
man now, finding his prisoners harmless
unless attacked, piped all his men to re
pair damages. When thus alone, the two
young men gripped hands fervently
“You bleed, Oziel.” said Justin, “let me
bind that wound. I heard you call me in
the fight, but that black Donnereau had
most roughly locked me in the cabin.
“Tell me. Justin, have you learned any
more surely of Lynch’s purposes?”
“Nothing certain, but enough to know
that I have been played upon. He Is as
pleasant as ever, but I think his friend
ship is hut hollow. Otherwise he would
not put me off with laughs and promises
when I ask him what means DonnereaH’s
watch over me, or Noll Dadcls intolerable
treatment.”
“This Donnereau?”
“A scoundrel mnn, Oziel; a desperate
man. He would act the easy gentleman
like Dixey Lynch, but cannot, and thus
balks his own purpose. He has told me
such hideous things, Oziel, and his vile
mind thought it amused me by its wit. By
his own account, tjie man has been engag
ed in the cruelist work, a pirate, and is
but a savage, though he has aied other
men’s manners until he has convinced
himself he is human, too. I first doubted
Lynch by that, that he should eat and
drink and be good comrade with so great
a monster.”
“You are ri#ht,” said Oziel: and told
Justin of the talk betwxien these two on
the Atlantic-beaten beach. Listening, Jus
tin turned very pale.
■•Priesthood, ugly religionists, and this
strange mark of mine! 1 cannot under
stand," said he, "save that Non Dade
must be one of these same strange believ
ers by his uncanny prayers to me."
"Your father—Murrin told me that story
—has he that mark?”
"So Marian says—l can barely remember
him-and .Marian always, believed, for she
learned more from my mother ere she died
than 1 did. that Sir Roger would be found.
The tale of the family mark—it is heredi
tary—had a great hold on cousin Marian,
and she had some old wife’s story of my
father’s childhood that it would bring hup
misfortune. She feared the same for me,
good Marian, but would not talk of it, for
SAVANNAH, GA., SUNDAY, JANUARY 29, 1399.
YOUTIJS’ PAGE
fear of Boston gossip. But for the imme
diate danger, Oziel, think you Murrin
would dare?”
"As 1 know him now,” said Oziel, “he
would dare anything for possession of your
father’s lost fortune."
At that moment Gabriel Murrin's head
bobbed up from the companion and he
called gruffly to Justin to go to him. Jus
tin took a step forward and Oziel, in
stantly moved by his side.
"I care not,” growled Gabriel, "both
of you, as you will.”
In the little box of a cabin the two
lads, wary and with fingers on triggers,
found the three consultants, and it was
at once evident these had epme to an
agreement, some compact, which as be
tween scoundrels the lads felt must be an
evil one and boding ill to them.
"Now what," began old Gabriel, leering
malignantly upon the two, "is to become
of this our British Israel ”
Dixey Lynch laughed aloud, and Ga
briel swung around upon him wrathfully
for a moment, but Immediately subsided
and grinned himself.
"Nay then.” he said, "tempora mutan
tur—let me briefly to the matter. Young
Justin—this 1 have to say. Master Lynch
and Donnereau and I have talked over
these matters and find that our quar
rel may be remedied. Alike we agree to
join as brothers in this quest of your
father and of this rumored treasure. We
have the needful information and tho
power to prosecute the search, and you
are helpless by yourself. There is no
desire to harm you, and, though your
comrade there has pushed himself forward
and richly merits punishment, that shall
be left to fitter time. If then you would
see your father and save him from the
fate now his. you must, briefly, in all
things, submit to me and Master Lynch
and Donnereau.”
“Who have my father’s welfare alone at
heart?” Justin said with a sneer so bit
ter and contemptuous that Gabriel’s
blotches turned green, and Lynch’s smile
of benign friendship, which still he as
siduously bore to the lad, soured grimly.
“It seems we can do naught else but
obey,” Justin went on, “for we are in
your power. Is that all you have to
say?”
It seemed so, for Lynch, chilled by so
cold contempt, made no present effort to
resume old relations, and the two went
back on deck, feeling safe for the time,
but anxious for the future which was to
explain these mysteries, and decide their
fate in the hands of those unscrupulous
men.
Left once more by themselves ln the
cabin, Lynch and Donnereau looked tri
umphantly on the trader, who, with fur
tive hate glowered on them. Dixey look
ed on him from his hight, squatting on a
bunk, his long legs coiled beneath him,
and cheerfully Jeered him-;
“Fallalah!” he sang. “Now, friend Ga
briel, you see how unnecessary it was to
fire so spitefully on my poor schooner.
How much better off are you?”
Gabriel gulped his wrath, and assumed
content.
" ’Tis done,” he said, "and cannot be
mended, so let is pass. Now, let us work
as true partners, among whom there need
be no secrets.”
Dixey bent forward until his gray eyes,
which yet could glare so banefully at
times, poked in the trader’s face, and his
mouth stretched wide in a grin.
“Nay, nay, Gabriel,” he chuckled. "So
long as Donnereau and I have visions of
that plank of yours, so skillfully placed
to walk over, we will keep our secret, eh,
Donnereau?”
The big blaek grinned and chuckled In
imitation of his model. Gabriel ground
his yellow teeth.
“And the boy Justin,” said he, “what of
him after this, and his father and Oziel?”
Donnereau shrugged his shoulders, and,
as he had done once before on the beach,
drew his black hand across his throat.
Lynch and Gabriel looked from their eye
lids furtively each at the other, but made
no sign of dissent.
(To Be Continued.)
“TIIE MAJOR.”
Prove* How Mncli Cheer There I* for
n Family In a Pint of Molnssen anil
Some Pop Corn.
By Emma A. Opper.
Mrs. Rouse, the Hornbecks’ next-door
neighbor, sat and laughed to see what a
good time the Hornbecks were having,
simply wilh a pint of molasses and some
pop corn.
Trolly Strong was making the candy.
Mrs. Rouse always thought of Trolty
Strong as a Hornbeek, because she bed
lived with them since her eighth year, and
she was fourteen now. Chariey popped the
corn, and Lily greased the plates for the
candy; ifl’id the baby sat in his high ch lir
and iooked on.
“They made candy every Saturday
night,” said Mrs. Hornbeek.
"They have the best limes ot any chil
dren I ever saw,” said Mrs. Rouse.
“They do. They wouldn’t have,” said
Mrs. Hornbeek, “if it wasn’t for Trotty.
Charley's a boy and Lily is little' yet.
Trotty manages everything. Mr. Horn
beek calls her Major. What we’d do with
out her is more than I know. I believe in
giving credit where it belongs, and I know
things wouldn't go half so smoothly here
if it wasn’t for Trotty. I’ve only got one
pair of hands, and there are things that
wouldn’t be done If Trotty wasn't here
to do them.
“I won’t hear to her staying out of
school to help, nor taking time when she
ought to be doing her lessons; but my
goodness! seems as if Trotty can study
her arithmetic and darn stockings with
one hand, and hake cookies and take care
of baby with the other,” said Mrs. Horn
beck.
"And my children—my, how much they
think of her! She can do anything with
Charley and Lily. She's a real little wo
man.”
••Except,” wait! Mrs. Rouse laughing,
when she's a real little girl. Do see
them?” Charley had dipped a spoon In
the seething molasses, flourished it till it
cooled, and touched it to Trotty's cheek;
Trotty chased him, cornered him, and
shook the wet tin dipper over his head.
Lily jumped up and own and squealed, and
the baby squealed too, shrilly.
And in the midst of the jolly racket, Mr.
Hornbeek came in.
Re did not laugh at the hubbub, nor pick
up the baby, nor pinch Trotty’s ?ar..
“Mother,” he said, “I’ve got a let tel’.”
’Bad news, father,” said Mrs. Hornbeek,
with quick alarm.
"Why, no. 'tlsn't bad news," said Mr.
Hornbeek. Mrs. Rouse, with kind consid
eration. rose to go.
"We’ll bring you over some candy to
morrow, Mrs. Rouse,” said Trotty. Trotty
was thoughtful of everybody.
“You say it isn’t bad news, father,” said
Mrs. Hornbeek, "but you don't look as if it
was anything else.”
"Well," said Mr. Hornbeek. “mother the
letter's from Mrs. Taylor; Sarah Taylor.
It’s to both of us. It’s about you Trotty.
I guess I'd better read it out loud."
"Me?” said Trotty.
'Ah; Sarah Taylor,’, said Mrs. Hornbeek.
Her fuce had changed.
It was a long letter and a very pleasant
letter. Certainly Trotty might have un
derstood it without difficulty at a first
reading. Rut she looked bewildered.
"They want me—” she said, "to come
and live with ’em! Well, I shan't go a
step.”
Mr. Hornbeek cleared his throat. "It
might be good for you, Trotty,” said he.
Trotty laughed. “You want to get rid
of me, father!” she said. That was a great
joke; Charley ha-haed.
"It will be a bad day’s work for the
Hornbeek family when we get rid of you,
major," he father said. “But, you wee,
Mrs. Taylor is your father’s cousin, and
1 suppose maybe she’s got some claim —"
"Why, no, father,” said Trotty .wide
eyed; "nobody’s got a claim on me but
you and mother, and Chariey and Lily and
the baby.”
’■That’s right!” said Charley, loudly.
“But that, isn’t all, Trotty," his father
said. “They’re well off. They live in a
nice big house, with a great lawn round
it; I was over there to Payson once, and
saw the place.”
"Why! but, father,” said Trotty, “it
was a thing too ricidulous to take seri
ously; she laughed—“but I don’t want to
go and live there. You and mother took
ine w r hen my mother died and I didn’t
have anybodj, and I guess nobody else
Is going to get me now.”
”1 guess there ain’t, either!” said Char
ley.
"1 guess there ain’t,” Lily echoed.
Their mother sat sHenl and sober.
Now suddenly she spoke, with a voice
oddly unlike her own.
“If we could have our way, Trotty,”
she said, “nobody should ever get you. But
it’s this way. I’ve been looking for this
letter from Sarah Taylor. I heard six
months ago that her last daughter was
married, and that took me back to the
time your mother died, Trotty ”
“And you took me," Trotty put in.
“Yes; but the Taylors' came over here
and we had a talk. Mrs. Taylor said
she was your father's cousin, and I was
just your mother's friend, and that 'twas
she that ought to take you.”
“Like to ’a seen her!” said Charley.
“But she had three girls of her own,
and she saw how more than willing I was.
She said, though, that some time, if her
girls ever left her, maybe I'd hear from
her. And now her last girl’s married, and
she and Mr. Taylor are alone—and I’ve
heard from her,” said Mrs. Hornbeek.
She looked pale, but she spoke firmly.
“Trotty,” she said, “I've always known If
the time should ever come that they asked
for you, we’d have to let you go. It’s
just this: They can do better by you.
They're rich folks, compared to us, and
you’ll have a splendid home with them.
You’ll be ten times better off! There,
Trotty! I see our duty this minute, and
see it plain. It’ll Just about break my
heart, but we’ve got to do what’s for your
good, Trotty.”
"We haven’t, eiiher,” said Charley. He
rattled the corn-poper fiercely.
“I guess we haven’t!” said Lily. But
their father spoke gravely.
“I guess, Major," he said, faltering,
"mother’s right.”
The candy was burning and filling the
kitchen with its smudge; but nobody no
ticed it. Trotty bent over the baby's high
chair; she hid her face against hi3 chub
by, warm cheek.
“I’ve been here,” she said, with a sob,
" ’most ever since I can remember—ever
since Lily was a baby; and the first thing
you did, you made me a red plaid dress
with a pocket in it—and—l—l don’t want
to go and live with any Taylors.”
One evening, five weeks later, Mrs.
Rouse went over to the* Hornbecks’.
Mrs. Hornbeek was darning stockings,
and Lily was helping her, with her awk
ward little fingers. Charley wag In a chair
by the stove, with a flannel cloth tied
round his swollen cheeks. Charley had
the mumps.
“Well," said Mrs. Rouse, "I can't get
used to it. It does seem so funny here
without Trotty!”
She had really meant not to say that
again—she said it every time she went
over to the Hornbecks'; she could not
help it.
"Funny,” said Charley, somewhat
fiercely—“if you call it funny?”
"There, Chariey,” said lys mother,
“lie;; been croohety, like that, ever
since Trotty has been gone," she ex
plained to Mrs. Rouse. “And I don’t
know but we all have."
“Isn’t it ’most a month?” said Mia.
Rouse.
"It’s four weeks yesterday,” said Mrs.
Hornbeek. For once, the decision had
been made that It was best to let Trotty
go to tho Taylors, Mrs. Hornbeek, with
sad firmness, had lost no time In putting
the plan into execution. “It seems like
four months.”
“Four years,” said Charley.
“It’s Just awful,” said Lily, “awful,
without Trotty.”
“I can't blame them,” said their mother,
between smiling and sighing, "nor scold
them. I feel Just the way they do myself.
My, how we do tnlss her! Father and aii
of us. We couldn't begin to tell.
"If Trotty was here I shouldn’t bo darn
ing stockings from Monday’s wash Sat
urday night; Trotty darned nil the stock
ings—she would do it. I do my best to
keep ahead of my work, but without
Trotty, somehow—there, I won’t complain
another word.”
“No," said Mrs. Ho use cheerfully, "for
I don’t doubt but what Trotty’s real well
off, there where she is.
“ No, she ain’t,” said Charley.
“Of course she Is,” said his mother,
rebuklngly. “It’s a splendid thing for
Trotty to live there. They’ve got a horse
and carriage, and a piano; she says so."
”1 suppose she’s contented? You can
lell by her letters.” eald Mrs Rouse.
“Well ” said Mrs. Hornbeek, dubious
ly.
"She isn’t contented,” Charley burst out;
the words were like a cork bursting from
a bottle. “She don’t like it; 1 know she
don’t. “She doesn’t want to live way off
there with the Taylors."
"No, she don’t," said Lily.
"A piano!” said Charley. ”1 guess a
piano isn’t enough to go away off to Pay
son for. I was going to get her a piano
myself, anyhow, soon as I was old enough
to earn the money.”
"And a good deal better one,” Lily de
clared, excitedly.
’’She hasn't any business off there; slie
belongs here,” said Charley, in a querlous
climax of unhappiness; it hurt him to talk,
and he growled. "We're so lonesome we
can’t stand it. And everything bad that’s
happened has happened einee Trotty went
uway; mother, hasn't It? I don’t believe,”
said Charley, "I’d have bad the mufiips
at all if Trotty'd been here.”
“No, nor 1 shouldn't have cut me with
the bread-knife. Nor—nor Mr. Nee son’s
shop wouldn’t have burned up!" said Lily,
with conviction.
Mrs. Hornbeek laughed, lifting the baby
from the floor. But her laugh was trem
ulous. Lily heard its shaky note, and,
already half tearful, she began to cry, and
to tangle the darning cotton. And Mrs.
Rouse sat ill dismay.
“Well,” she said, ”1 don't know what
ever you'll do, I declare I don’t!”
Suddenly, in the silence that
Charley started up. He had heard the
click of the gate latch.
“It's father,” said Mrs. Hornbeek; but
Charley sprung from his chair. That
light, swift step on the walk was not his
father’s. Mrs. Hornlieck paused, motion
less; But Lily scurried to the door.
"Trotty!" she shrieked, ”Oh, Trotty!”
It was Trotty; Mrs. Rouse could make
out that much, though she could see noth
ing but the feather on Trotty's hat; Trolly
herself was lost in what seemed a whirl
ing vortex, composed of Charley and Lily
and their mother, with the baby on her
aim.
“Yes, it's me,” said Trotty; “it is. Yes—
I’ve come for good; my trunk’s here, and
Jim Parks is going to bring it up. Yes,
the Taylors knew I was coming.” She
answered the rattling storm qf questions
as fast ah she could, Imjiede as she was
by the Hornbeck’s hugs and kisses; and
then she got a breathing space, and greet
ed Mrs. Rouse, and took the baby, or
snatched him—and sat down with him and
held him tight. Charley and Lily stood
one on each side of her, and their arms
were over her shoulders.
"Trolty, dear.” said Mrs. Hornbeek, her
voice shaking, “what does it mean?”
“1 was so lonesome, mother!” said Trot
ty simply. Her eyes shone, but her lips
trembled. “They were good to me; splen
did. And It was all just as father said;
It’s a big house and a great porch with
white And there’s lovely things
in the parlor, besides the piano—big pic
tures and plush chairs-but it didn't make
any difference,” said Trott>, “I was so
lonesome all the time, lonesome for all of
you.
”1 didn’t say anything; I hated to.
But It kept getting worse, and I guess
finally I showed it, becauife Mrs. Taylor
asked me if I was homesick, and I said
yes. And the very next day,” said Trotty,
“the letter came ”
“The letter?” said Mrs. Hornbeek.
“Yes,” said Trotty. “I’ve got it.” She
found it in her pocket, and read it out:
“Dear Trotty; Come back home, be
cause we can’t stand it any longer with
out you.’ Charley wrote it, and he and
Lily signed it, and the baby. I guess they
helped the baby some, but he signed it,”
said Trotty, with tender laughter.
“Well, well! I never dreamed of It. I
never knew one word about It!” said
their mother.
Lily jumped up and down. “Yes, we
wrote if,” said she, “and Trotty’s come!”
"Mother,” said Charley, “we Just had to
write it, that’s all. And we've been look
ing for Trotty ever since. I was pretty
cross to-night, and that’s what made me.
I was getting afraid they wouldn't let
Trotty come.”
Trotty folded the letter. “I shall keep
it.” she said, “always. I showed it to Mrs.
Taylor and she asked me if I wanted to
come, and I didn’t know what to say, but
I—l cried some. And then she and Mr,
Taylor talked it over and—well, here 1
am,’ said Trotty, Joyously. “They were
real kind, mother. They said they want'd
me to do what was best for my happiness,
and I knew what that was. When I
thought of you and father, and Charley
and Lily and the baby, I knew,” said
Trotty.
Her glad face shone. So did the fares
of the Hornbecks. It was a moment when
words would have been vain and feeble.
Nobody said anything but the baby, and
He crowed loudly and pounded Trotty with
his little soft fist.
As tor Mrs. Rouse, her feelings were
too much for her. She cried softly into
her apron. And there might have been a
genera? flowing of happy tears, if Trotty
had not interrupted it.
“It’s Saturday night, do you know It?”
she cried. ’’Where’s the molasses?” And
Charley put another stick of wood In the
stove, and Lily rushed into the pantry.
The door opened Just. then. Mr. Horn
beck stood there, dumb and motionless
with astonishment. He made one great
step, and lifted Trotty from her feet in
his strong arms.
“Well,” he almost shouted—“well, ft’*
the major!”
HAD TO ACCOUNT FOR HIMSELF.
A Sen Hoy Tried to Throw Etllson
Out of Hi* Own Laboratory.
New York,, Jan. 27.—Not long since a
new boy was employed In the Edison lab
oratory in Orange, N. J., who forced
Thomas A. Edison to give an account of
himself. It happened in this way: The
boy was first told all about the man for
whom he was to work. Then he was told
of the traditions of the establishment. He
was told that the main building contained
a piece of every known substance on
earth, and that if he could name any sub
stance not In the building he would be
awarded a prize of $2.50. He was also
told thßt hi* special duty would be to
guard the room In which Mr, Edison work
ed, It being Important that the Inventor
be not disturbed by curiosity seekers or
schemer* who often try to reach him.
Then the boy was placed on guard, full
to the brim of the Importance of his posl-
(ion. Bu( ono serious omission had been
made by his Instructor. He had not told
him what Mr. Kdison tookod like. So
when, Siam utter ho took up his post, the
luiy tvas approached hy a portly, shabbily
dressed man who attempted to push past
him ho grabbed titat man in such a way
that the man stopped and gasped In as
tonishment.
“What Is the matter with you, boy?’*
demanded the man indignantly.
"You can’t go in there.’’ retorted the boy
with just as much spirit.
“Why not?" said the man.
"Because no one can go in there with
out written permission or when Mr. Kdison
sends out for him.”
“Oh! i see," said the man. and then he
turned on his slippered heel and walked
off. while the boy looked after tbe dirty
yellow duster which the man wore, and
said several things to himself not at all
complimentary of "blokes wot would try
lo bluff past him." But the iwjy was sur
prised about live minutes afterward to see
the man in the yellow duster coming back
accompanied by the "instructor,” who
looked very, very, serious, and who said:
"Boy, don’t you know who this gentle
man is?"
"No," said Ihe hoy. "But ho didn’t have
any pass and Mr. Kdison wasn't with
him."
“Why. tihs Is Mr, Edison!” gasped the
instructor.
The boy collapsed. •
"Can 1 go in?" asked the inventor with
a twinkle in his eye. But the boy hung
his head, while the instructor started in
to berate him for his mistake. Then Mr.
Kdison turned around and stopped that
Instructor on the spot, while he at the
same time commended the boy for hik vig
ilance. it was the fault of the teacher
not of the boy, he said. Nevertheless, the
cfTect of the Incident on the boy was such
that lie never could enter the same room
where the Inventor worked without a visi
ble tremor. Mr. Kdison, who Is fond of a
Joke, sought lo reassure him by winking
at him tremendously every time he came
in. but (bat did not seem to mend matters.
One day lie was very sick, and an investi
gation showed that he had been chewing
tobacco. II nearly killed him, and he re
signed his position in consequence.
"That boy," said (lie Inventor afterward,
"reminded me of the first chew of tobacco
I ever took I was about as big as he
is, and wiili two other little fellows had
saved up a lot of scrap Iron and tin and
Zinc which we meant to sell when the
holidays came around. There Was a largo
boy in the neighborhood tl think ho must
have become a bunco steerer afterward)
who knew of our hoard. One day when
we had Uen in swimming he cam to as
and said: '
“ 'Say. you fellows, if you will give me
that tin and iron and stuff you have, I'il
teaeli you how to chew.’
"The proposition struck us being very
fair, particularly ns he agreed to furnish
the tobacco. Well, we were quite willing
so he brought some old Canadian cut
down to a sand bank by the river. He
divided the stuff Into three parts and gave
us each one. Then he said:
“ ‘Now, you must do exactly as X say,
and you must do it right away or you’ll
never learn to chew."
" 'Now, then,' ho shouted, ‘hold it
up.’ "
“We hpld it up.”
" 'Put it in your mouth,’ he yelled.
"We put it In."
“'Chew!' he hissed, dramatically.
"We worked away at a great rate.
" 'Hwaliow it,’ lie schet'ched.
"We gulped it down, and then that young
tascal fairly rolled down the bank with
laughter, while we soon rolled down the
other side sicker, X supoac, than any of
us had been In our lives before or since.
One of the boys nearly died, and they
had a very serious time, with him. That
was my first experience with tobacco.”
TAB BET i?|,|p. ,
Here la n New Game That Will Coat
Not Cent.
There is probably not a single household,
poor or rich, in this whole United States,
where everything necessary to make and
play the game of target flip may* not be
found at any time.
First of all, take a sheet of paper; say
three feet square. White paper, yellow
wrapping paper, or a double newspaper
sheet will do. In fact, even paper .s
not necessariy. The top of a common
kitchen tabid would be equally as well,
perhaps bi tter in some ways, if nobody
bus any objection to marking It up. Next
place a good-sized dinner plate, upside
down. In the middle. Bun a lead pencil
or crayon around Its edge. In the center
of tlie large circle thus produced, place
a saucer and mark around this in the
same way. And so, with teacup, egg
cup or nnpkin ring, and a 1-cent piece.
The final result should be a series of five
circles, one within another, and very
nearly equidistant. This is the target.
Mark values upon each one of the enclos
ures. The middle and littlest one 100, tiie
next f,O, next 25, next 10 and 5 for I lie
largest outside circle.
Now as to playing the game: Any
number may take part, from two up lo
the limits of space. To each one is given
six common white beans. One of the
players should he provided with pencil and
paper, and perform the duties of score
keeper. All being seated at as nearly an
equal distance from the smallest circle or
hull's eye of the target spread out on the
table> before them as practicable, the gam*'
begins. Tile idea is to flip the beans, one
at a time, with a snap of the fore or
other fingers, so that they wi’.l land in the
highest counting circle possible. This is
not nearly so easy as It may look, and
the results are sometimes most surprising.
Each player flips the six heans one afler
another, and as soon as his or her score
is counted up. removes (hem so as to
leavet iie target clear for the next per
former. Of course, one may with prac
tice obtain a certain degree of extartness
in this game, hut the odd-shaped (jeans
with their rather erratic <oursc over the
target, and their aptness to knock out the
ones already safely lodged in circles, sur
rounds the whole with much uncertainty.
Sometimes one who has never played tar
get flip before will do better than the
veteran.
There are certain rules which must be
followed, In order to be fair for all. One
of these is, that unless a bean is all with
in a circle. It must count for the least.
This is, if a bean was In the bull’s eye,
all excepting an etid upon the pencil mark,
It would only count 50 instead of 100. In
the same way a behn inside of Ihe outer
circle but touching the line, would count
nothing.
Ten turns for each player should consti
tute a game, and the scorekeetier should
keep each one’s count marked up as they
go along. Tills excites healthy rivalry,
and makes the finals very Interesting.
PAGES 17 TO 20.
There are many possibilities In this
honu ,y little game, as a clever hostess will
sec ul a glance. It can readily lie arrang
ed for progressive tables, and some sort
of marksmen's badges devised foe those
making the winning scores. The targets
might be made on (hick Bristol board and
tinted attractively in water colors. Even
the beans might lie so treated, making
each player have a certain color, and tho
little missiles might lie given to the play
ers In a liitie silk ammunition Img of lae
Banin hue. >
However, these are Just suggestions. Try
target flip, and take our word for it, you
will find fun and a change from the stern
work of life In this Jovial game.
llerce Hart.
BIGGEST DOG I V THE WORLD.
He Is n Resident of (ilileago. Is a St*
Bernard, Ills Name Is Simon.
Chicago, Jan. 27.—There is little doubk
that the largest dog in the world, or per
haps that has ever existed, Is now a resi
dent of Chicago. He is u St. Bernard and
ids name is Simon Lomond. Simon is not
very widely known outside of his own
particular circle of acquaintances, as taj
lias never been exhibited ut a bench show.
He has, however, an exceedingly blue
blooded pedigree, being eligible to move In
Ihe select gatherings of Chicago’s four
h undret).
He was whelped Oet. 10, 1893, and wat
bred by Mr. Osterellch of Detroit, Mich,
his sire being Scion Lomond, and his dam
Dudley Star—both Immensely large dogs.
To give an Idea of Simon's enormous
size, it may be mentioned that from the
ground to (lie point between tip' shoul
ders lie measures thirty-nine Inches (tills
is the standard way of measuring dogs).
Throwing aside the curve over the dog's
shoulder he measures thirty-six Inches flat
from the point of the shoulder to tho
ground. From the tip of Ills nose to the
tip of ids tail lie measures seven feet and
one-half Inches. So It will easily be seel*
that If Ihe dog were to lie down crosswiso
on the floor of a room and stretch hi*
forelegs forward he could very handily
scratch the base board on one side of tho
room with his claws and at the same time
knock a little dust off the opposite wall
with his tall; at least he could areompllsli
the feat In a great many fiats In Chicago,
His chest measurement (circum
ference of the body Jusg
back of the forelegso) is forty
six Inches, and his loin measurement is
forty-one Inches. Around the skull at
the cars the head measures thirty-two
Inches; the skull, Just over the eyes,
measures twenty-eight Inches his
muzzle measurement is eigh
teen Inches, and from occiput to tip of nose
his head is thirteen inches long. The head
and neck of the dog are so large and the
hair is so long and shaggy that one is re
minded of a lion. The dog’s foot Is so
large Hint it would almost cover the top
of a pint cup. Hitting on his haunches
the dog is ns (ail as a man five feet five
inches in bight. When the dog stands by
a table of ordinary hight his back rises
several inches above the top of the table.
His weight (bleeding condition) is 210
pounds, but It Is difficult to keep him ra
low. He can easily tie made to weigh 210
pounds. Ills weight is not Imaginative,
but registers it on scales.
Simon is beautifully marked with the
genuine St. Bernard shades. His coat la
colored with big splotches of white and
reddish tan. By connoisseurs In dogs this
tan Is called orange. His owner, James
S. McCullough, who resides at 14 Cicero
Court, has never yet succeeded In per
suading Simon to answer to tils propen
name. "I’uppy” is the only name to which
the dog will respond.
STARTLING EXPERIMENTS.
A Demonstration In I'nrlor I’hjslca
That Is Sure lo Surprise nn<|
Am use.
An astonishing exiierlment In parlor
physics may be performed with no appa
ratus other than a piece of string six feet
long. A person's hands being held over
his ears, this string Is passed around hi*
head hy another person, who holds both!
ends in one hand, and by drawing the fin
gers or nails of tho other hand over th
cord produces upon the tympanum of the
subject Impressions of almost startling in.
tensity. Sharp iienls of thunder, changing
Into distant and prolonged rumbling, ara
effects that may be readily given.
Timt Broken Comb.
As tortoise shell combs are always prona
to break easily, many may find this hint
a useful one. First slope the margins of
the broken pieces for the distance of aboug
a quarter of un inch from the edge, then
overlap these margins and when thus ar
ranged, clamp them together with a
strong letter clip, and immerse the comb
In boiling water for some time. As tha
tiorn softens, it unites. After it is thor
oughly dry, tho place where /the breaW
had been will be utmost invisible.
Tipping the Hat.
The custom of lifting the hat had ltd
origin during tbe age of chivalry, when
it was customary for knights never to
appear In public except In full armor. It
became a custom, however, for a knight,
upon entering ail assembly of friends, to
remove his helmet, signifying, "I am safe
In the presence of my friends.” The age
of chivalry passed away with the fifteenth
century, but among the many acts of
courtesy which can bo traced back-to Its
influence, none is more direct in lt origin
than that of lifting the hat lo acknowl
edge the presence of a friend.
Taper That Won't Burn.
Take an ordinary penholder with wood
en handle and metal aocket, paste a gum
med label In such a manner as nicely to
apply half of it ujjon the metal of the sock
et, and half of It upon the metal of the
wood; then heat regularly the covered por
tion ion Iri a smokeless flame, that of an
alcohol lamp for Instance. The paper will
become carbonized upon the wood only,
becuuso the wood, opposing itself to the
passage of the heat, it Is tho paper which
protects it; on the contrary, the copper or
the Iron of tho socket Jots pass the heat,
and tho puper at this point remains white.
One can easily make a little alcohol lamp
out of an Ink bottle; into the stopper you
Introduce a portion of penholder or glass
tube whicti gives passage to the wick. The
stopper will only bum when the alcohol
In the lamp gives out.
It is thus with electricity, which stops
and becomes Intense when the body of a
bat) conductor, the pai>er for example,
ui contact with the body of a bad conduct
or. while it passes through without stop
ping when Ihe paper Is In contact with •
mctalic conductor. t - -