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THE FLOWERS COLf FOT ION Alleged Pirate Gold in Biloxi Bay Is Sought by Organized Company Hj! \W\ t •••#•! #•••••••• ••• • ••• • ••• • ••• • ••• ♦•••#••# ••• • ••• ••• • ••• • ••• • #*••••< ■ # ••• • •... % «... • • By DAVID HOLT Writ* : for B/>« 5unny South HE stories so often told of pirate treasure near Bi loxi have led to the for mation of a small company to make a systematic ex ploration during the com ing summer for at least such booty as may be concealed beneath the wa ters of the Back bay of Biloxi. The most promising field for exploitation, and tile one which will first re- c. ive attention, is a point opposite the site of Fort Maurepas, founded by Le tt. oyne d’Iberville, abotit one-half nnle from shore, and known to the old oyster- men as ’the rook pile." For many years the residents of Biloxi, v. ho made their living by longing oysters, bad known of tills rock pile, and had noticed that (he oysters which they pick- ( cl up at this point were often tinged with iron rust. The water there is about eight feet deep at ordinary tide; and the < lil fishermen used to often grasp sorne- tling with their wooden oyster tongs v hich they would tug at for a whlie and then, with little curiosity, turn loose. One evening, late in the summer of IEP3. Eugene Tiblier, Jr., a boy of 18 V ars, was alone in a skiff tonging ovs- 11 rs <m the rock pile, when his tongs struck something hard and solid Visions of buried treasure of which lie Ipid heard from his youth up. overcame his fears, and he decided to make an investigation. He was a good swimmer, and arraying himself only in the glad sunshine of tin- summer evening, lit- dived where his tongs had caught something he knew to be larger than one oyster. In the clear watew of the bay he could see. while near the bottom and clinging to his tongs, that the object which had attrac ted iiis attention, was ihe mouth of an old cannon proruding from the sand, tr.ud and oysters. The next day iie. his father and three other men returned to tin spot on a schooner, prepared lor v.nrk, with visions of Spanish doubloons for inspiration FUTILE SEARCH. For a week tlie men labored with the most primitive implements, and ns the result of their work secured four old cannons, a number of strips of iron, old cannon balls, a cord or two of old oak ship timbers, a few rust eaten blocks with fragments of rotten rope encrusted in them with an accumulation of shells, mud and rust, and a number cf fire brick or tile, which soon crumbled to dust when exposed to the air. They be calm- discouraged and gave up the search. Old Eugene Tiblier. father of the boy who made tlie discovery, now has these guns and other wreckage from the sunk en ship, piled on the beach in front of bis home on the banks of Bayou Port age. opposite Fort Point on the north s'de of the Back bay, and ony one who will go there may see for himself, and i lay learn something of the traditions of tlu old settlement as well. The largest of the four cannons is seven feet long and has a bore of abotit three ami a half inches. This gun is more cor roded than the others, and is evidently of a different metal, said to be of Nor wegian iron. The best preserved specimen is about six feet long, nearly tlie same lu re as the longer gun. and lias a bed i , funnel shaped muzzle. The two ania.it- er weapons are each three feet, six im-lies it; length and have a bore of three inches or thereabouts. The cannon balls found were, some *>r i item, of much larger bore than any of the guns yet found, and that, with otner Ihings leads Mr. Tiblier to believe that only the upper deck of the vessel has .'cl been explored, and that deeper in the mud are buried guns of larger bore, and possibly other articles of value and in terest. This opinion will soon be v* ri- l.ed 111- disproved, for by the time this article appears in print the work, of ex ploration will be under way. I’p to this time absolutely no clew has I found to identify the vessel, and one of the records known in tlie writer • r l lie people along the coast who are .miliar with the few remaining chron icles of d'Iberville's time and inter pe riods. throw any light upon the stioj- i. One of the mysteries about the old Nes se] is the manner in which she could • have been sunk as such a place. Had she drawn more than 8 feet of water, it is very doubtful that she could h: e entered the Back bay in the first pi* and had she been driven aground in a storm, which is not probable in suel. t land locked harbor, she would hr •- struck much nearer the shore, in shal lower water, as in a storm the water ,a that point is always at least 2 I t deeper, unless the wind is from a nortn orly direction, in which event the vessel would have been in a perfectly protected position. True, she may have been one of t ■ pirate La Fitte's fleet, which lie built View of the Back Bay of Biloxi, Miss., Where Treasure Is Supposed To Be Submerged. and armed as he could, and. from the varied assortment of armament found, this scorns probable. FREQUENTED BY SEEKERS. Tlu» Back bay of Biloxi is known to have been an old pirate stronghold, and the search, ashore, for the pirates* hid den treasure goes on to this day. The point of land a mile west of the Tiblier place, on the bay. has been known for generations as Treasure point. On it Professor S. M. Tracey, special agent for the United States department of argi- culture. has his home, and he frequently finds fresh excavations near his residence where, tlie treasure hunters have been at work. There may be descendants of the old pirates yet in the neighborhood who could throw some light on these subjects if the would talk, but they do not take the stranger into their confidence 4 . They are reticent; like the old Choctaws from whom they acquired many similar traits by association in past generations. What they know they keep; probably adhering to the old maxim of the portage. Al- rnies cabri pas z* affaires mouton.” ("What concerns the goat does not con cern the sheep.”) One tradition with which all of the resi dents “cross de bay” from Biloxi are familiar, is the story that the pirate buried rich treasure somewhere in that neighborhood, and then killed the sailors who di«l the work, leaving their spirits to guard the spot. The gold may not yet have been found, but the ghosts of the pirate sailors have often been seen. Of this there is enough verbal evidence extant to bewilder the most skeptical modern mind. V The Scarlet Bat, By Fergus Hume, Author of “The Mystery of a Hansom Cab, “The Golden Idol,” Etc jf* of Intrigue* * | Love and Mystery in the Metropolis of the I World ■" v-( yr>g j g OP PRECEDING CHAP TERS; A disturbance occurs in a theater Lnr between i-aiu-aster, a journalist, and mail made Starth, who, for an offen sive jvtnuik, is knocked down. Botli are regarded as being in love with Miss Bel li. premiere In the new musical comedy, and Miss Berry's father it is—a man with a. I ;td reputation, acquired abroad— who see< Starth safely into a cab. Lan- <-aster, who is not, however, following at Miss Berry's heels, is 'free to give his at tention to one of the faces in the boxes, which turns out to be that of Starth's sister. As ho leaves the theater a stran ger. claiming the faculty to read the future in hands and faces, warns Lan caster that if lie meets again the man with whom he has quarreled one of them must die. Starth writes asking Lancas ter to call that Starth may apologize, and Lancaster, after duly arming itint- self with a revolver, goes. The tea which tlie host offers contains opium, anil Lan caster loses consciousness. Awakening in the dark he stumihles over wliat proves to he Starth s dead body. His own re volver is missing. In a flash he sees how circumstantial evidence is against him. and dazed and bewildered lie passes out Into the street. CHAPTER III. A Friend in Need. CELLAR prejudice regards Essex ns a damp, mashv flat, inliabitated by mos quitoes, rheumatic yokels, and children of the sea- mist. But Eustace Jarman dwelt on a far-extending plateau, whence from his study window he surveyed Tilbury, Gravesend. the mouth of Thames river, and vast tracts of mead ow lands divided into ir regular squares by erratic hedges. His home was 3 miles from the nearest railway station as the crow flies, and. being cut -off from civilization In heres of furze-grown common, was .-is isolated as his misanthropic soul could desire. Jarman had the reputation of being a solitary man, and those who knew him in literary circles hinted at the destroy ing influence of the inevitable woman. But Eustace never explained. After a journalistic career in town he disappeared into the Essex wilds, and devoted him self to writing music hall sketches, short tales and articles on countries he had visited. As he had been round the world twice or thrice, and knew the manners and customs of various peoples, he was well paid for life contributions. The cost of living at Wargrove was nil. and Jar- 1111111 was supposed to -be saving money. At times ho would vanish into tlie Far East, or seek South America when there was a chance of trouble between tin-pot republics, but he always returned to his Essex plnfttau to live a hermit's life. Miss Cork waited on him and looked after his simple needs, and Miss Cork mentioned frequently that he was the queerest gent she ever set eyes on. "The Shanty,” as he called his place, was an old farm house, hurled amongst elm and oak tree.s, and surrounded by an orchard and a flower garden, all more or less in ruins. Jarman would not allow t he place to be tidied up. as Miss Cork suggested, loving better the eccentric, un trimmed look of life property. The hedges grew sprawling at. their own sweet will, long grass flourished up to the very door, and poppies, sun flowers and straggling rose trees shewed above this miniature jungle. Eustace possessed three rooms, two of which were occupied by beds for hiniself and any chance friend, and a third apartment, iange and airy, which served as a study, a dining room, a smoking room, and a parlor. In this iast were collected trophies of Jarman's travels, ranging front Japanese curiosi ties to South sea oddities. Books also— but these were everywhere, and over flowed from the study into the passages, into the hall, up the stairs, and in some degree into the bed rooms. Everywhere tlier<. was a scent of tobacco smoke, and Eustace loafed about in flannel bags with an old shooting jacket, and a worn crick eting cap on the back of his head. The house was not very large, and Jarman was over 6 feet. But lie moved with a dexterity remark;!hie in so huge a man. and was as handy as a woman in looking after his housekeeping. Miss (fork lived at tlie back, and merely acted as lieutenant in carrying out her master's orders. When she wished to introduce feminine innovations Eustace protested. He loved his savage bachelor life and liis hermit-crab shell too much to ilesirt- new., fangled customs. Extra civilization, es pecially ( ,f the womanly kind, meant extra work, and Eustace was a lazy man. It was a wet July night when Lan caster sought this refuge. All day it had been raining hard, and Jarman was just thinking of putting on his waders for his usual walk, when Miss Cork entered to announce a visitor. On her heels followed Frank, and Eustace stared when he saw him. Tlie stare was excusable, for Lan caster appeared in a silk hat, a frock- coat, and patent boots. xj e was mired with clay from the roads, torn by the furze of the common, and dripped like an insane river-god. Also, without imita tion, he collapsed into the nearest chair, while Jarman’s jaw fell still lower at tin- sight of his white face, liis clenched mouth and his glassy eyes. Miss Cork, half blind, saw none of these tilings, but she withdrew to the kitchen to soliloquize on trie costume of the visitor, inappro priate alike to the weather and the coun try. Meanwhile Jarman, behind closed doors, continued to stale. \\ hat is tiie matter?" lie, asked at last. 1 caught the last train from Liverpool street," explained Frank, in faint tones, ' and walked across the common. I'm (bad beat. Give me a whisky and soda." Jarman supplied tills refreshment speed ily, and again demanded explanations. "But you'd better get into a dry kit be fore you make 'em." said he, bustling about. "Wliat a crazy rig to negotiate the country in. Been drinkin’?’’ "Do I ever drink, you ass?" “Not your style. 1 know, but that's tlie sort that generally goes a mucker in the end. Cut into my lied room and I'll hand you out a few things. Hang it, man. hold up.' - ’ Lancaster, who had lurched against the big man's shoulder, pulled himself straight, and tried to smile. Jarman could see that the poor young fellow was on the verge of hysterics, being over wrought. and quite broken down. There fore be spoke roughly to brace tiie slack nerves. With a few choice expletives he chased Frank into the bedroom, made him strip to the buff, and saw him in ducted after a thorough toweling, into a pair of flannel trousers and a faded blazer, together with a woolen shirt and a pair of old slippers. Then lie demand ed if Frank was hungry, and led him back to tlie parlor. "No. I'm not hungry," said Frank, dropping into a chair near the fire, for Eustace approved of a fire when the rain fell. "but. another whisky——” "Not a bit of it. Ton'll get squiffy. You must eat!" "But I want to tcell you ” "Later! Later! Meantime, bread ant meat.” Jarman looted the kitchen, and, having sent Miss Cork to bed. boiled tlie kettle and returned with a tray. This he plac ed before his guest, and stood over while Frank forced ham and bread down a most unwilling throat. Then be gave the young man a pipe, mixed bim a second glass of whisky of the weakest descrip tion. and demanded explanations. "I can give Them In one word," said Frank, now more composed. "Murder!" Jarman started again. and whistled, ’nion lie went to see that the door was closed, and returned to his seat. “Who have you been killing?” "No one. But I'm in danger of being accused. I am innocent—I swear I am innocent. Eustace!” “All right, oid man," replied Jarman, patting his junior on the back. "I know you wouldn’t come to me if you were guilty." "If l were would you shelter me?” "H'm! Depends upon the kind of mur der. 1 don't mind a fair light sort o’ killing. 'Fact, I've shot a man or two myself in tlie Great Waste Lands." "But i didn't shoot Startli. I really didn't." "Starth! What! is he ?” "Dead! Dead! Shot dead. But not by me—not by me.” Eustace chewed his pipe, and stared into tlie fire, puffing hard. He appeare; to he worried. "Poor girl!" said he at length. Frank understood on the instant. "Does she love her brother?” "Do you know her?" asked Eustace, without looking up. Lancaster shook life head. W saw her last night at the theater. Her brother insulted me and asked me to see him today, as lie- wanted to apologize " "Wait!" Jarman threw up his hand. “Tiie whole truth, if you please." "I'm telling tlie truth, if you will only listen." "Apologizing doesn’t sound like Starth." objected Eustace. "I thought so when I got his note, and I am convinced now that this invitation was a trap.-” "To have you shot?" "How do I know? Tie was shot him self." "Who shot him?" "I can’t say. I way lying i na stupor when it happened." “Drugged—with opium?" hinted Jar man. "Yes. Did you know that Starth " "All along." Jarman placed the tips of his fingers together. “See here. Frank. I know- Miss Starth very well. She lives here with an old lady called Mrs. Perth. Their cottage is only a stone s throw away from my diggings. T met the brother there in the long ago. and "And introduced him to me. 1 wish you hadn't." "It's too late now. seeing that the man's dead, to raise objections. T never ap proved Of Walter Starth. A bail lot a very had lot. He never liked you. I don't know why. But I didn't think it would come to this.” “Jarman" Frank started from his scat —“you don't srppose-— “S1t down, you ass!" Jarman pushed Lancaster back into life ''hair. "1 won bln t take things so quietly if you had killed him. Barring that. I'm glad the mans out of the world. 11c was no use in it." "Mv own words—my own words. "When and where?" “At the Piccadilly theater last night. T shouted them in the bar after l knocked him down.” "H'm! Shouldn't talk like that, Frank, it’s foolish." "I know It is. I’m in a fix. that's why I come to you." “Well,” said Eustace, refilling his briar, “tlie best thing you can do is to tell me everything 'from the start.” “Where am I to start from? You know about Fairy Faun?” "Yes; and about Starth's love for her. He looked on you as a rival, and the knowledge didn't increase life liking for you. Well?” Frank straightened himself, and forth with delivered a succinct account of all that had taken place, from the encounter on the previous night to his leaving tlie house in Sand-lane, South Kensington. "I took tlie underground to Liverpool street and caught the down train by the skin of my teeth. 1 didn't even return to my diggings, as I was afraid of being arrested. I’m a marked man now, Eus tace. The police will hunt me down. And I am innocent " “Why didn’t you give the alarm when you found Starth dead?" “Man alive, that would have delivered me into the power of the law.” “J know that. Just asked the question to see what you’d say. H'm! It's a nasty case for you. The circumstantial evi- . dence— ” “I know—T know. Who knows better than I?" Frank rose to pace tlie room anxiously. “I spoke 'foolishly about Starth being better out of the world, at the theater. I took my pistol with me— T wa.s alone in the house with him that servant saw me leave, and T daresay noticed my agitation. Starth. it’s awful! 1 don't see how* I’m going to get out of the danger. They'll hang me.” "Steady, oid man. They won't hang you. I won’t let them.” "Then you'll help me to get out of tiie country?" "No If you cut. you'll surely be caught. By tomorrow every seaport in the king dom will lie watched. You must slay here.” “But ['ll be traced.” "I don't think so. Plenty of men go up and down on this line in frock-coats and tall lints. I don't suppose any one took particular notice of you." “The train was crowded." "All the better. There’s safety in a crowd. No. Frank, don’t leave England. Stop here, and I'll fix you up some sort of disguise. The very daring of the thing may be your salvation. The police will never think that you will remain so near town. I’ll make things safe with Miss Cork, and she's the only person who has seen you. When wo get time to turn round we can sift matters out.” "What a good chap you are. Jarman!" “Nothing of the sort. If you were guil ty T shouldn’t chance the risk of being an accessory after the fact. As It is. I'll see you through the business. It’s a nasty affair; there’s no denying that. I ex pect the sister will come over tomorrow to ask for my assistance." "Oh!" Frank jumped up nervously. "Do you think she’ll recognize me?” “Of course not. She saw you only once, and that at a distance. Besides. I don’t suppose-she Inquired your name. Finally, as 1 intend to disguise you, she won't guess that anything is wrong. You work the typer?” “Yes.” “Good! Then you’ll stop here as my secretary. I'll dictate, and you'll work the machine. With your moustache cut off. liair dyed black, a stained face, and a pair of goggles for weak eyes, 110 one will recognize you." “But no one hereabouts knows me, ex cept Miss Starth, and she only saw me in the glu/e of the electrics for a few minutes. "Frank, you're an ass! Tlie Police Gazette will have a full description of you. Every one will lie on the lookout Thank Heaven, you’re of the common place type. Pink and white, fair hair, blue eyes, well-groomed, military, figure, and all the rest of it " "How will my blue eyes match black hair?" "We'll say you're Irish, and you ..an fix up a brogue. Trust me. I've been in several holes myself, and know how to got or.<t of the deepest." "But. Jarman, who do you think kill ed the man?” "1 can't say that until I know more. Tiie reason is to be found in Walter Starth’s past. He has sown the wind pretty freely, and I can hardly wonder at his reaping the whirlwind." "Do you 'think he Intended to trap me?" asked Lancaster. "Yes. He's not the man to apologize. And tlie house being empty on that eve ning shows that Starth was up to some triekery Maybe I18 intended to kill you. However, he never intended to die himself." "How do yon know? He may have coiimiKted suicide." ■ "Bosh! Starth was the last man In Tlie world to have such an idea. Tie wasn't cowardly enough. I will say that. Besides, if he wished to commit sui cide lie would scarcely invite you to sec him do it." "I don't know. lie might have left a tenter saying T shot him, and then got out of the world to hang me.” Jarman shrugged liis huge shoulders. "That's an extreme measure of revenge. If he wanted to get you into trouble, be won':! certainly like 'to bo present to see how you took your gruel. Another tiling, from wliat you say. your pistol was used." "F think so. At all events, it was taken from my pocket.” "II m! He searched you. Anything* else missing?" “The note In which he asked me to caff." "That proves Starth set a trap. T 'think—no 1 don't. I can't deliver an opinion until 1 know more. Go to bed and sleep." “T can't sleep." said Frank, passion ately. "I’m ruined.’’ But for all that he dropped into a deep slumber, almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. "Worn out, poor wretch!” said Eus- taco. CHAPTER IV. Two Hundred Pounds Reward. “What do you think of my new secre tary. Miss Cork?” asked Jarman next morning, when his housekeeper was lay ing 'the table. He put the question pur posely to arrange matters for the dis guise. "X didn't see quite rightly. Mr. Jar man; my eyes being weak. Young?” "And dark, and Irish. His eyes are weak to the extent of blue glasses.” "I didn’t see them, sir.” "No. poor chap. He broke them cross ing the common: left his baggage in Lon don. and got lost in our coun'lry." "Ob. he'll know it soon. Mr. Jarman. I'm an Essex woman myself—Billericay way—and the country is easy. What‘S the gentleman's name, sir?" "Desmond.” said Eustace, lying with an unmoved face. "Desmond O’Neil. ’ "I'll remember, sir.” “And. oh. Miss Cork, I shouldn’t men tion about his late arrival and loss of CONTINUED ON LAST PAGE. ill