Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 3, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 January 1916 — NEAL OF THE NAVY [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

NEAL OF THE NAVY

By WILLIAM HAMILTON OSBORNE

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w* SYNOPSIS. On the day of the eruption of Mount Pelee Capt. John JJardin ©£4he steamer Princess rescues five-year-old Annette Ilington from an, open boat, but la forced to leave behind her father and his companions. Ilington is assaulted by Hernandez and Ponto in a vain attempt to iret papers which Ilington has managed to send aboard the Princess with hjs daughter, papers proving his title to and telling the whereabouts of the lost island of Cinnabar. , Ilington’s Injury causes his mind to become a blank. Thirteen years elapse. Hernandez, now an opium smuggler with Ponto, Inez, a female accomplice, and the mindless brute that once was Ilington, come to Seaport, where the widow of Captain Hardin is living with her son Neal and Annette Ilington. and plot to steal the papers left to Annette by her father. Neal tries for admission to the Naval acadertiy. but through the treachery of Joey Welcher is defeated by Joey and disgraced. Neal enlists in the navv. Inez sets a trap for Joey and the conspirators get him in their power. He agrees to steal the papers for them but accidentally sets fire to the Hardin home and the brute-man rescues Annette with the papers from the flames. Annette discovers that heat applied to the map reveals the location of the lost Island. Subsequently in a struggle for Its possession the map Is torn In three parts, Hernandez, Annette and Neal each securing a portion. Annette sails on the Coronado In search of her father. The crew, crazed by cocaine smuggled aboard by Hernan<Sez, mutiny*, and are overcome by a boarding party from U. S. Destroyer Jackson, led by Neal. In Martinique Annette and Neal are captured and taken to a smugglers’ cave to be blown up with dynamite, but are rescued by a sponge diver. SEVENTH INSTALLMENT THE GUN RUNNERS CHAPTER XXIX. Identification. Senorita Inez Castro—known to her Immediate audience by the pseudonym of Irene Courtier—drew back in alarm and affright. "But, charming friend Annette,” she cried, "you have been snatched literally from the jaws of death." She ■wrung her hands in despair. She turned to Neal and laid her hand upon his arm. “What are we to do?” she cried. "We are but a handful of women —championed by our solitary sailor boy. We are no match for these adventurers. hy not give it up?” - Annette sprang to her feet. "Never,’* she cried. “Never will I give it up. The lost isle is mine. It is my far ther’s, too. I am fighting for him, Irene, and he is fighting in me. His blood is in my blood.”

There was a knock upon the door. "Come in,” said Mrs. Hardin. The,door opened and a man in the uniform of a common seaman entered. "Hardin,” he said, “been looking for you everywhere. The commander wants you to report to him at once.” He grinned a bit sheepishly. “Beside that," he added, “he told me I might hand you this.” He passed to Neal a foldfed sheet of paper. Neal opened it and read it. A flush crept into his face and his eyes sparkled. “Godfrey,” he exclaimed, “I never thought—” He handed the paper to his mother. “Annette-:—lrene,” he said, “I have been promoted—prompted from seaman on the Jackson to gunner on the cruiser Albany.” The bearer of the note saluted once more. “Rank —chief petty officer,” he explained, “and the cruiser Albany is due hereabouts this week.” _ Ten minutes later when the excitement in that hotel suite at Martinique had subsided —at least to some extent, ' Irene Courtier leaned forward toward Annette. “Charming friend,” she began, “let os get. down to cases —let us look things in the face. What is the situation now?” “For one thing,” Annette returned, “these pirates don’t know—can’t know —that I am alive.” Irene Courtier'smiled a reassuring ■mile. “Of course,” she responded. “How could they know?” “They’ve got me at a disadvantage,” went on Annette. “They’ve got my parchment map of the lost Isle of Cinnabar —and my locket with my father’s picture in it. It s evidence.” “Ah,” said Irene, leaning farther forward, “map or no map we shall ■pike their guns. Let me plan out a campaign.” She rose, seized a sheet of paper and an envelope and placed them before Annette Ilington. "Charming friend,” she said, “write as I dictate.’^ At the end qf five minutes Irene took the sheet of paper from the table and read it aloud. This is what she read: - To the Father* of Santa Maria Mis* ■ion, Santa Maria, Lower California. Reverend Father*: As sole heir of the family of Ilington f api entitled to possession of the original grant to the lost Isle of Cinnabar—the same isle granted 4o my ancestor by Joseph Bonaparte, the kinig of Spain, more a century ago! I hiave solved the eecret of the map and am on “my way to you. i Inclose my; photograph for the purpose of identification. Sincerely, ANNETTE ILINGTON. “So far so good,” said Irene Courtier. "Now add this postscript, “ pieaaet —, !* 8. My photograph is identified

upon the back by the signature and seal df the governor of Martinique. A. I. —“But ft isn’t, ’’ exclaimed Annette. Irene held up her hand. “Youhave a photograph,” she said. “Get it at Once.” Annette obeyed. "Now,” went on Irene, adjusting her hat, “let us go on to the governor of Martinique.” In half an hour they were in his presence. Annette proffered her- request. The governor nodded. He placed his signature upon the back of the photograph and impressed his seal in sealing wax also upon the back. —— ——lie “Now, charming friend," said Irene Courtier, "let me have the photograph." She placed it in the envelope and sealed the letter, bn their way back to the hotel she darted into the local post office, darting out almost immediately. "The deed is done,” she said, “the identification is complete.” Half an hour later; in the solitude of her own room at the hotel in Martinique, Inez Castro took from the folds of her dress the letter; —the letter which she had not mailed in the post office. She tore it open rapidly and dropped the photograph upon her dressing table. With a keen-edged knife she performed an operation. Then she pasted-her own photograph upon Annette’s cardboard. When she had completed this performance she held up the finished product with satisfaction. “So,” she said to her own counterfeit presentment, “it is you whom the governor of Martinique vouches for as the heir of the Ilingtons. So far so good. Let us . complete the identification.” She sat down and Wote—-Wrote the same letter that Annette had written at her dictation, and she signed it Annette Ilington. Then she placed it in an envelope, addressed the envelope and affixed a stamp. Later, surreptitiously, she mailed it. She was quite right. Identification was a matter of importance'and the Identification was complete.

CHAPTER XXX. Behind Closed Doors. There are many cubby holes on the Isle of Martinique. In one of these cubby holes or hiding places in a remarkably secreted district of St. Pierre, behind doors closely locked and barred, there sat a man. He was a negro, tall and gaunt; he wore a mustache and an imperial; even as he sat at ease his bearing was military. Suddenly he stiffened. There were three taps upon the barred door. He rose, strode swiftly to the door and noisily threw back its bars and bolts. The door opened and three men crept into the cellar. The negro saluted. ’ -A . “Senor Hernandez,” he exclaimed, “I am from Dolores.” “So I understand,” said Hernandez. “Dolores,’! continued-jthe negro, “is a republic on the coast of Central America.” Hernandez nodded. The other man leaned forward; “Senor," he said, “I am the agent- of the insurrecto party in Dolores. The insurrecto party in Dolores will one day own Dolores, body and soul. That day is sure to come. It needs but one thing, senor.” “And that one thing?” queried Hernandez. ——- The insurrecto smiled. “We need a man who will take, chances," he went “OH, “a man who will stake little to win much; a man who will put up money and put up brains to get us what we need—to deliver us the goods.” “And what goods do you need?” queried Hernandez, smiling in his turn. 4 A The insurrecto showed his white teeth. “Oil stoves,” he returned, “oil stoves—of the Mauser type—of any type—made in America.” “How many do you need?” queried Hernandez.' “Twenty-five hundred rifles will suffice,” said the other man, “including ammunition to correspond. And this cargo, senor,” he added, “is here in Martinique. It has come by devious routes .from United States. It is being watched—rclbsely, jealously watched, by secret service officers — by the government of the United States.” Hernandez sighed. “What return does this man of daring get?” “We will-pay you tenfold,” said the spy, “when you land the rifles,” - Hernandez smiled. “What more—what after delivery?” . \ ' “Ah,” returned the other, "twenty—thirty—a hundredfold, when the revolution has succeeded.” Hernandez tapped himself upon the chest. “It will succeed,” he said. “I shall bring to It something more than rifles. I shall bring the brains of Hernandez. lam a gambler, senor, and I will take a chance." The negro thrust a hand across the table. “You are a man among men, Bsßor, n he exclaimed. Then suddenly

he stiffened once again. He bent forward in » listening attitude; He lowered his voice. ‘There is someone just outside the door," he said. Hernandez strode to the door, drew bfl,ck the bolts and opened. A woman entered —Inez Castro. “Senor,” said Hernandez to the insurrecto agent, “this is Senorlta Inez Castro. She'is ape of us.” Inez nodded to the agent a bit curtly. “You bring news?” said Hernandez. “Good news," said Inez. “I have dispatched a letter to the fathers of the Santa Maria mission in lower California.” ~ “You have been discreet, I trust,”' said. Hernandez. “I have been more than that,” returned Inez. “The governor of Martinique himself has identified my photograph as the heiress of Lost Isle* Hernandez was plainly puzzled. “Who induced him to put his name — to place his seal upon this photograph?” h-i inquired. 1 “Annette Ilington and I—” she he gan. t - Hernandez started back. “Annette Ilington and you,” he. faltered. “Oh, I forgot,” said Inez. “I have been getting messages from you, but I could get none to you. She still lives, this Annette Ilington.” “Incredible,” exclaimed Hernandez. "And what of her companion—what of this sailof hoy?” “He lives, too,” Baid Inez. “He will be a gunner or a gunner’s mate on the cruiser Albany,” she said. “Good,” exclaimed Hernandez. “Then he returns to the United States.” Inez shook her head. “Returns—not,” she answered. “The cruiser Albany comes to him —comes here.” The insurrecto agent stepped back a pace. “Come here,” he said. He glanced at Hernandez significantly. “Senor,” he added, “we have no time to lose.” “We shall lose no time,” said Hernandez. “Leave that to me.” He turned to Inez. “What of this girl Annette?” he queried. “Has she given up the chase?” Inez shook her head. “The day after toniorrow,” she returned, “we sail for the Panama canal.” Two days later the Rio Grande left port for the Panama canal. When she was fairly out of sight another and quite a different .looking vessel hove into view and entered port. This latter vessel was the cruiser Albany, seeking- for something that she had not found —as yet. That day Chief Petty Officer Neal Hafdin took his station on her as chief gunner’s mate.

CHAPTER XXXI. Forbidden Fruit. The captain of the Rio Grande found —just at the time when he was off the coast of Dolores—that his engine had uncompromisingly broken down, and that he must put into the nearest port for repairs. “While I’m about it," he said to Hernandez, his secret passenger, “you can land your oil stoves for the insurrectos.” Hernandez nodded. “Your legitimate passengers—some of your crew,” he said, “you’d best get them out of the way first —we don’t want too many witnesses —the rifle cases might break open.” “It’s all right,” said the captain, “simple enough. I’ll land ’em in the daytime. We’ll land your cargo in the night.” , ' , He glanced Joward shore. Suddenly he caught Hernandez by the arm. senor,” he exclaimed, “look —the flag of “the lnsurrectos —it is their camp.” Annette Ilington, Startled by the cessation of the engines, glanced out of the window of her stateroom. She woke her foster mother, Mrs. Hardin. “Land,” said Annette, “look.” . There was not only land—there was a village—there was a big house — and there were people.. Already a launch had put off from a neat plantation dock, and inside of twenty minutes had drawg up alongside the Rio Grange; In the launch, seated comfortably in an easy wicker chair, smoking a

long panatela, sat a prosperous looking Central American gentleman. At the .captain’s invitation he boarded the Rio Grande and looked about him. His glance was keen —he seemed to see everything at ondh. “You will pardon, senor capitan,” he -explained, “but—these are suspicious times. We look for trouble — everywhere. Tou~see yonder hill. Somewhere in that forest lurks afevo-' lotion. All that they need is guns, senor. Guns and ammunition. Hence my apprehension as to the Rio Grande.” ’ “My stars,” exclaimed the captain, “if I’d known they wanted guns, blow me, but I’d have brought a few along.” An h<jur later the Central American was standing on the veranda of his large plantation house, superintending thp serving of iced drinks and a hit of f6od, to his accidental guests, Annette Ilington and her party. Annette suddenly rose to her feet. “The Rio Grande," she exclaimed, “100k —she is leaving us.” Her host ehoek his head. “She Is moving, on a pair of crptches—as one would say—into a quieter cove. There she will repair herself. Meantime, command me as your servants, senora —senoritas, if you please.” The captain of the Rio Grande was clever enough to perceive that he would further disarm the suspicions of the rich plantation owner by moving the Rio Grande down the coast Instead of up the coast —away from rather than nearer to the insurreetds stronghold. He knew his business, did the captain of the Rio Grande. And if he didn’t, he had a good director, the Portuguese Hernandez. “Ah,” said Hernandez that evening from the deck of the Rio Grande, “her majesty the moon.” - - As if In answer to his exclamation, a dozen rowboats shot out of the shadows and lined up alongside the Rio Grande. The first of these made fast —a swarthy looking insurrecto climbed Tthe ship’s ladder like a monkey. jHernandez received him. “Sendr,” he said, saluting. The other man grinned. “You have oil stoves for Panama,” he queried. “For Panama, yes,” smiled Hernandez. _ “This,” said the other, with another grim smile, “is Panama." “First and foremost, senor general,” said Hernandez, “money down/* TKe insurrecto counted out the cash. Hernandez thrust it into his pocket. “Senor,” he said, opening the door

shall be glad to throw In something else with the oil stoves for Panama.” Two figures appeared in the doorway —entered the room. The insurrecto gazed at one of them in amazement. Then he turned to. Hernandez. “What will you throw in?” he queried. Hernandez placed one hand upon his breast and waved the other at his two companions. “My own services—and that of my good friend, Ponto — and this beast. We are fighters, senor. We would take pot luck with you.” The insurrecto’s eyes gleamed. “Delighted, senor,” he returned. Hernandez didn’t mention that he had other motives than just to help. Half an hour later the last rifle case—the last chest of ammunition — had been safely stowed away in the bottom of the last small boat. Then Hernandez, his companions and the insurrecto leader dropped into a launch and sped away.

CHAPTER XXXII. Within Four Walls. A tattered insurrecto crept up to the leader. “General,” he exclaimed in his native tongue, “there is news—from our outposts on the shore.” “What news?” queried the leader. “A cruiser has been sighted—she Is at anchor, general.” “Of what nation?” “Americano,” returned Hernandez, "she is of the United States —I can tell you that.” » “In which direction does she lie?” queried the leader. “U#the coast,” returned the native, Hernandez nodded. “Then, general,” he said, “your line of march

must lie the other way—past the plantation down below.” ** The. leader pondered, “I was bound the other way,” he said. ‘‘The marines’ll cut you off,” Returned Hernandez, “they’re after our guns—they're after us. You’ll have to go this way.” jg|‘You are quite right, senor,” he conceded. Hernandez beckoned him to one side. “Listen, general,” he whispered, “I understand mine host of the plantation is very, rich. Am I right?” The leader nodded. “He has much gold somewhere hidden,” he returned, “although we have tried in vain—by peaceful means—to get it.” “He has,” went on Hernandez, “some woman guests—Americans. If you find the gold, senor, you keep it. If I find it, I’ll divide with you. But the American women —they belong to me.” Early next morning mine host of the plantation approached his guests. “Come with die to the wharf,” he said. “I have marine glasses. We shall see what we can see.” Once there he handed the glasses -to Mrs. Hardin. “Senora,” he exclaimed, “tell us what you perceive in the dim distance.” Mrs. Hardin took one look and then turned a radiant face upon Annette. “It’s the Albany—Neal’s cruiser,” she exclaimed. Annette seized the glasses. “The Albany!" she exclaimed, incredulously. “What is the Albany doing here —the last time we heard of her she was approaching Martinique.” The planter beckoned to a servant. “Horses for the party,” he exclaimed. “We’ll drive along the shore and visit them. 1 am partial to Americans —I get along with them." But the horses for the party did not arrive—and for good reason. Half an hour before, a plantation hand, strolling to work from his hut in the hills, in the cool of the morning, was set upon by half a dozen armed and drunken insurrectos. Had they been sober it would have been all up with him. As it was, he slipped nimbly out of their grasp, lea*i*£ most of his clothes behind him, and cantered yelling down the trail.

He reached the wharf more than half naked and panting for breath. He fell down at his master’s feet “Insurrectos—insurrectos!” he exclaimed. , , . The master started. /Then it was shots I heard,” he said. He turned to his guests. “Come," he commanded, “there is not a moment to lose. Follow me at once.” . —i_L He reached the veranda and blew three shrill blasts upon a whistle. Immediately half a hundred blacks rushed upon the scene, eye# wide with terror, but ready to obey orders. , “Everybody in,” he commanded. “My guests will seek the bedrooms ofi the 'second floor.” •- - Annette touched the planter on the arm. “Give me a gun,” she said. “I’ll do my part. When there’s a fight 1 can’t keep out, somehow.”

CHAPTER XXXHI,* Among the Missing. Annette sank back, gasping with the smfcke. The situation, to her,, seemed HOpeless. Inside, the ammunition was slowly giving out Without, the house was surrounded on all sides by insurrectos. She crept to the planter’s side. “I’ve fired my last shot,” she said. "Gan I have more?” She got It, but still lingered. “Do you think you can hold, the place?" shei queried. The planter smile 4 and shrugged his shoulders. “The insurrectos—what are they?" he exclaimed. “Nothing.” He peereithrough his loophole. “Eye-yah." crie*the planter, “who la the stranger there?” Annette followed the direction of his finger,_ She shrank back. * ~ “Scar-face!” she cried, in despair.' “He kpows how to load,” said the planter, shaking his head soberly, “but at any rate we can hold out —until the Americanos come.” ‘ ' tered Annette. Their messenger did get through.

A quarter of an hour before a black had penetrated to the of the marines and had given the alarm—and the whole camp had started off on the double quick. “Boys!” shouted Neal, pressing to the fore, “American women—don’t forget —come on!” In an upper room in the'planter’* house Mrs. Hardin shrank back in a corner with fear. Bullets were rid* riling the walls. Joe Welcher lay face down. Inez, with presence of mind, had placed a mattress against the wall and with Joe’s aid had placed an upturned bed against the other. . They were fairly safe. Besides that, Just once, Inez had found a chance to wave to Hernandez, and Hernandez had kept the insurrectos from firing on that corner of the house. Inez crept downstairs —looked about her —saw Annette and the planter in close conversation—then crept again. She plucked Joey Welcher by the sleeve. “Joe,” she whispered, “go down —pass through the -corridor by the kitchen —open the rear door.” “Not on your life,” said Joe. “Do you think I want to die?” * "You’ll die if you don’t,” "Come, follow me!” Once below, Inez cocked her revol* ver. “Do as I say," she commanded. Joe obeyed. With terror in his eyes he tore and wrenched at the fastenings of the rearmost passageway. Finally he stepped back. .“She’S unlocked,” he exclaimed. Inez, unafraid, stepped forward, opened wide the door and beckoned. It was a signal, Hernandez saw it and bounded forward. “Follow me, insurrectos,” he commanded. A hundred men obeyed. With a shout they dashed into the huge living room on the ground floor —with another'shout they fired a volley into the backs of the defenders. The planter, drawing a bead on an insurrecto without, was seized suddenly from behind, gagged and bound. A strong pair of arms seized Annette and lifted her from the floor and bore her, screaming, from the room. Three minutes later she was thrown into a far room in a secluded corner, of the house. Into the same room were thfown Inez and Mrs. Hardin and Joe Welcher. With a sudden wrench Annette tore loose a board that barricaded the window. • Then her eyes brightened. J'Look!” she cried. “The marines—they come. Neal! Neal!” Her shout was not heard, of course, but it was accompanied with the wave of a white handkerchief. Neal, at the head of squad, saw it —and the squad pressed forward at double speed. Below, among the insurrectos, Annette could hear the panic. “The Americanos —the Americanos —flee!” Neal reached the house—saw who waved the kerchief. With a sudden bound he leaped upon an arbor, scrambled and crawled somehow —with some naval trick—up the face of the house, rammed in the barricade and leaped into the room! “Annette,” he cried. But ai that instant the door (ft the room was burst open and Hernandez, with Ponto and the Brute and a dozen insurrectqs, darted in. “Take ,everybody here —including him," commanded Hernandez. "Taks them —you know where. But remember —the women are mine, not yours.” Neal fought like a tiger, but without success. In five minutes or, less ths _ captives, Neal and Andette included, were led through dark passageways to some underground corridor. They were driven on and on—they knew not where. An hour later the squad of marines reported tq.Jtbelr officer. ‘ r “We can’t find a woman on the place, except the blacks,” they said. “Are we all here?” queried the offlcerr anxßnrß eaH the roll and see.” “All here,” returned a marine, "but no, not all here. There's one missing —Gunner Hardin, sir.” The officer nodded; “We’ll find Gun her Hardin if it takes a leg," he Bald. ... (TO BE CONTINUED.)

The Captives Were Led Through Dark Passageways.

“The Americanos—the Americanos—Flee!"