Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 4, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 January 1916 — Neal of the Navy [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Neal of the Navy

By WILLIAM HAMILTON OSBORNE

Author of "Red -Moose, “Running Fight," ‘/Catspaw,” “Blue Buckle,” etc.

Novelized frotn the Photo Play of the Same Name Produced by the Pathe Exchange. Inc.

~ <Ooprrigbt,ll>lAbyWilliam Hemlito* Osborne)

SYNOPSIS. On the day of the eruption of Mount Pelee Capt. John Hardin of the steamer Princess rescues flve-year-old Annette Ilington from an open boat, but is forced to leave behind her father and his companions. Ilington is assaulted by Herrdez and Ponto in a vain attempt to papers which Ilington has managed send aboard the Princess with his daughter, papers proving his title to and telling the whereabouts of the lost island of Cinnabar. IJington’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 academy, hut through the treachery of Joey Welcher is defeated by Joey and disgraced. Neal enlists in the navy. -Inez-sets a trap for Joey ana the conspirators get him in their power. 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 Hernandez, mutiny, and are oVerconje 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 rescubd by a sponge diver. Inez forges identification papers for herself as Annette. In an insurrection Neal and Annette are again captured.

EIGHTH INSTALLMENT . . ..... .• • ■ THE SUN WORSHIPERS CHAPTER XXXIV. The Jungle Trail. Blindfolded and stumbling. Neal was led for miles over an almost untrod path. As he went he listened, and twice he could have sworn he heard a woman’s voice, a voice that he knew well —the voice of Annette Ilington. Once he heard her scream. Suddenly there was a halt. There was much whispering and the low toned chattering of many people. And then Neal heard another scream — “Neal! Neal!”. . There was the trampling of a heavy body through the underbrush and then the rattling of a heavy chain and what seemdd to be the unlocking of a door. There was another shriek, then silence. <’ Finally without warning Neal was seized in a iigantic pair of arms, tossed lightly over a huge shoulder and was carried* rapidly along. Another door was opened and Neal felt, himself flung—a bit too violently—r into the corner of a stone-walled apartment. A door clanged to behind him and was locked and bolted. A voice assailed his ears. "~ : "Senor,” said this voice, "if you would be relieved of bonds and blinds, approach me.” N ea l—not without apprehension — started up and staggered in the direction of the voice. A hand swung him about. Upon his head and wrists he felt the pressure of cold steel—the back of a sheath knife. His bonds fell at his feet. He swung, about, stretched his arms and looked. Grinning sardonically at him through the bars was the face of Hernandez and behind Hernandez with blinking eyes stood the ever-present brute. “We keep you merely for safety, senor," said Hernandez. He svrung on his heel, thrust the brute out of sight and disappeared. Neal noted now that he was confined in a stone cell—dingy, dirty, miserable. He jumped at once to the correct conclusion. This was a fort. He examined his cell critically. The mortar was disintegrating. The fort was very old. He took out his knife —they had still left him that—and stabbed viciously at the space in between the stones. There was a rattle at the door of Neal’s cell. A native insurrecto opened the door and set upon the floor a jug of water and a loaf of disreputable looking' bread. Almost at the same time there was a rattle at the door of Annette’s dungeon cell. She ceased her tapping suddenly and turned. The brute was entering —also with refreshments, such as they were. Instead Of disposing of these at once, he strode forward, his huge body towering above her, and held them out to her with a strange gleam in his •yes. She took the food and drink and laid them down upon the bench, staring at the brute the while. The huge anomaly took this as an invitation. He shambled closer toward her, never once removing his glance from her upturned wondering face. Then without warning he thrust forth a hand and stroked her hair. Annette was startled. Yet there was •o much docility in the expression of this half man, half animal, that she Instinctively submitted to his touch. And there was something else —something struggling for expression in those strange, wide open eyes. There, was a quick step behind the nette shrank back into a corner of the cell. . The brute gazed at him, but still stood his ground. Hernandez in a rage struck film sharply on the shoulder and thrust him toward the door.

The Brute, cringing In his turn, half fell, half shuffled out of the cell, followed by Hernandez raining blows u£{m his back. Hours passed. Suddenly an ominuuß*~wbiisper spread through the fort —a whisper of apprehension. There was much bustle. During an interval of comparative quiet there was wafted into the range? of Neal’s hearing the one word—“Americanos.” Then with two successive clangs the cell doors, Neal’s and Annette’s, were flung back. They were bound and once more blindfolded. Then, each in the center of ah ample escort, they stumbled, plunged and staggered once more through the jungle trail.

CHAPTER XXXV. Sanctuary. Meantime things had happened. Outside the fort there was camped a gang of about fifty insurrectos. Many were wounded; all seemed to be in tatters. They had with them three Americanoß. One was Joe Welcher, who sat sullenly upon the ground smoking a cigarette. Inez Castro was also in evidence. The third Americano was Neal Hardin’s mother. She was the subject of considerable discussion, for she was ill. “Get me two donkeys,” said Hernandez. “I will send her back down the trail with Senorita Castro sffld Welcher.” A quarter of ft mile away on the top of a Jagged rock that thrust its head above the surrounding foliage there crouched a native scout. * He watched a cruiser slowly steaming up the coast. He watched the shore — and the trails leading from the shore. Suddenly he started —he had seen something ominous. He clung to his perch for one instant peering down to make quite certain. Then he scrambled to the ground and then crawled, leaped, staggered through the brush. He reached the insurrectos’ camp and clutched his leader’s arm. “Americanos, capitan,” he panted breathlessly. “They come.”, “From whence?” queried the leader. The insurrecto scout indicated the direction. Fear spread itself over the countenance of the leader. Hernandez grunted. “We must vamoose. Senorita Castro,” he said to Inez, “you and the two Americans shall go thither—east.” He nodded

to the leader. "We go west at once — and with our prisoners.” -\ It takes the trained eye of a natite to know a trail when he meets one in the well-nigh impossible jungles of Dolores. The United States marines, a little squad of 25 men, were beginning to realize this fact. For an hour they followed blind trail after blind trail, only to retrace their steps to a given starting point. "Never mind,” said their officer. “They’re up there and we’ll get them, and then —” He stopped. A shower of dirt and small stones spattered on his head. The officer looked up. Above him towered a cliff, and half way to the top of this cliff there ran a ledge—a mountain pass. The office# ducked, for there was another shower of dirt and gravel. Then he caught sight of a donkey’s tail swishing out over the precipice. "I’ve got the trail,” he said, “and a good trail It is,-for it leads here—here to* our very feet.” * He was quite right. Some threequarters of an hour later Inez and her small party passed that very spot —a spot now; deserted. Suddenly twenty-five American marines with drawn bayonets sprang from the jungle as by magic and Surrounded them. Inez, excellent actress, breathed an 'audible sigh of relief. "At last,” she said, “we you.” The ensign advanced* toward her

and sainted. He glariCeA doubtfully at the half-dozen Insurrectos wearing uniforms. "Who are you?” he demanded of Inez.' "These,” said Inez, with a wave of her hand, "are Dolores regulars who have befriended us, and we are three Americans, and one of us is sick. It Is for her that we seek refuge.”’ He strode swiftly to the side of Mrs. Hardin She was swaying helplessly from side to side in the saddle of her donkey, supported by two Insurrecto escorts. } "Neal, Neal,” she cried. Inez dismounted and approached the officer. “She has the fryer,” she exclaimed, “and she raved in her speech ail thq time, lieutenant; she makes up names—all kinds of names.” “There are other Americans in the mountains?” he queried. Inez opened wide her eyes and shook her head. “We saw none, sir,” she said. The ensign pondered. “Tfcis woman needs Immediate attention. Take her to the launch and thence to the Albany.” He bowed to Inez oned to Joe Welcher. “You two must go along,” be said soberly.

CHAPTER XXXVI. Corazon del Soh After a march of hours in the very thickest of the Jungle, Hernandez halted his band of insurrectos. The respite was ’ welcomed. Exhaustion reigned sugreme. Hernandez picked out two of the sleeker looking revolutionists. “This trail,” he said to them, “has been lately traveled. See where it leads.” Hernandez went back to his captives. He carried with him thick pieces of bread. He unloosed the bandages from their eyes. “Mine hostages,” he said lightly, “eat, drink and be merry.” Three miles further on there was a clearing in the Jungle. Across this clearing was an ancient gateway and a crumbling stone wall, older than historic man himself. Two unprepossessing stolid stone figures guarded this gateway. A third guard now entered the foreground and passed through the ancient ruined gateway. He was a living guard, but of a dead race. He was an Aztec. He had heard noises and he had come out to see as well as to hear. And suddenly he saw and was seen in turn. Wriggling through the portions of the edge of the clearing suddenly appeared the two scouts sent forward by Hernandez. They crouched there, staring speechlessly at the Aztec warrior. He in his turn stared speechlessly at them. But they had seen more than he had. They had caught a glimpse through that gateway of a mass of leaping, twisting flame, and they knew it for the thing it was. An hour later, panting, breathless, with their tongues hanging out and their eyes still wide with terror, they crept up to Hernandez and clutched him by the arms. “Corazon del Sol,” they cried, their faces twisted with terror. Ponto heard them. His eyes gleamed with sudden interest. He waddled to the side of Hernandez and nodded understandingly. “Corazon del Sol,” repeated Hernandez. “The Heart of the Sun,” Ponto nodded again. “The Heart of the Sun,” he repeated. “Well, what of it?” asked Hernandez. - “The lost tribe/’ whispered the scouts. “The Aztecs. Come,” they cried, "we have no time to lose. They will be upon us. Fly.” Hernandez gripped each man by the wrist. “Speak, Ponto,” he demanded. Ponto tapped himself upon his chest. “I am of Aztec blood myself,” he said. “I Jiave heard of this lost tribe. I have heard of this city of Corazon del Sol. Many assume it to be a myth, fcenor, but it is no myth.” Hernandez nodded. “How many inhabitants of Corazon del Sol?” he queried. “Tradition has it,” said Ponto, “that it is a town surrounded by a wall and that its population never. increases.” He smiled grimly. “What human beings it does hot need, it feeds to the Heart of the Sun —the flame.” “It will feed all of us to the flame,” cried the scouts. . “We must go back — back.” Hernandez leered. “Ponto,” he said, “in front of us. according to these insurrectos, is a fiery furnace with a million foes. Behind us, camping on our trail somewhere, is a handful of American marines. Which do you choose?” “Forward," said Ponto, “to the fiery furnace. Deliver me from a handful of marines.”

CHAPTER XXXVII. ,■ The Anger of a God. Within the walls of Corazon del Sol there lived a god. He didn’t.know he lived—he-sras quite ignorant of his own existence. If he had ever lived he would have died from ugliness. But there were those who knew he lived. They were the inhabitants of this ancient Aztec village—Corazon del Sol, the Heart of the Sun. They knew he lived, because periodically and quite persistently he demanded flesh. Just now he stared straight before him through the gates of fee crumbling walls. The high priest followed his glance.' ' , Suddenly the high priest started and held high his hand. A grodp of Aztec warriors answered the summons. >ln crude, uneven order this crowd rushed through the gates and stood at bay. Across the clearing was another group —Hernandez and bis crowd. The two

groups faced each other, tense, wondering. *. The high priest spoke—uttering unintelligible jargon. Hernandez turned to Ponto. ■ “What does this old devil say r he demanded. ? Ponto was panting with terror. “He says,” said Rpnto, "that he wants to talk to you/’ Hernandez pondered for a moment and toyed with the weapon in his hand. Then he crossed the clearing and faced the high priest. Ponto from his vantage point of comparative safety, translated in thin high-strung tones. “You are interlopers,” said the priest angrily, his cruel eyes watching

the terror he inspired, “and you shall be destroyed. Behind toe is fire, sudden death. We have many thousand warriors. We have an insatiable god. We brook no strangers —we tolerate no enemies. You are an enemy, you and yours. Go, and go at once.” “We are not enemies,” returned Hernandez. “We are travelers—weary travelers. We have lost our way. We need rest and food. To turn back now means death.” The high priest shrugged his shoulders. "Follow me,” he said. He turned and passed, between the divided group of warriors and entered the yattL~ ■■ ■ ■ I i I _ Hernandez followed, entering the walls three paces behind the priest. He led Hernandez to the center ot the village. With a long, lean, skinny finger, the high priest pointed to the sun god. He prostrated himself, then rose and gave a sharp command. Two Aztecs, clad In scarlet robes, darted forward. each with a.burning brand raised high above his head. Before Hernandez was a pit sunk into the ground. It was piled high with fuel and from this pit there rose quite a familiar odor—the odor of petroleum. In went the burning brands and in the twinkling of an eye the fuel caught fire and a leaping, twisting flame sprang into the air. *

Hernandez drew back. The flame was hot. It grew hotter as he watched. In a few moments it was a seething, roaring furnace. Hernandez stood with folded arms. The high priest swooped down upon him and denounced him in withering Jargon. Hernandez knew what It meant. It meant that they were to go. “Ponto,” he cried, “come here.” Ponto, quivering, crept through the double line of Aztec warriors and through the gate. Hernandez Jerked his head toward the priest. “Tell him,” said Herandez, “that he must take us in,” Ponto obeyed. He began to plead in his oiliest accents. The high priest was firm. Once again he held up his hand and from every hut in the inclosure there sprang forth another groyp of warriors. “Run, partner,” cried Ponto, “run for your life.” But Hernandez did not run, for suddenly the countenance of the high priest had changed. A crafty smile spread over his leathery old faee. Ponto followed his glance. At the other end of the clearing with a ray of sunshine full upon her crouched Annette Ilington. Without removing his glance from

the girl the high priest touched Hernandez on the arm and spoke in high shrill accents. “What does he say?” demanded Hernandez of Ponto.

Ponto shivered. “He says,” returned Ponto, “the sun god is angry. That he has commanded his people to destroy you all. That he will smite you hip and thigh Unless ” "Unless what?” queried Hernandez.

“You give the white girl to the god and the rest of you can get food and succor within the walls—the white girl for the god.”

CHAPTER XXXVIII. * ** A Bride's Revolt. Hernandez pondered once again. Then he nodded. “Well do it,” he returned.* "Tell that beast out there to bring the white girl in.” Ponto turned and ran waddling outside the gates. He gave a brief command to the brute an 3 at^the^word high upon his shoulder. At another work of command the brute marched toward the gate and entered it The high priest stood quivering, watching the approach of Annette and the brute. The fofpt Aztecs in flam-

ing red robes darted forward and held out quivering hands toward Annette. “Give her to them,” cried the priest. , “Give her to them,” commanded Hernandez. BujtiiPC brute, his fret planted wide apart, stood his ground. Hernandez sprang toward him, angrily seized the_ ever-ready whip from Ponto’s hand and lashed the brute fiercely. He nodded to the four crim-son-clad men and they tore Annette roughly away and dragged her to' the temple. Neal hurled hiipself at the four a'colytes, hut Hernandez dragged him back. , Neal was then thrust into a dungeon and its door was locked. Meantime within the temple things were happening. Annette found herself in an apartment gorgeously furnished with Aztec tapestries. Twoold women —toothless, ugly—women with beards, attended Annette, chuckling and mumbling to glee. They produced from the recesses of the temple a dress, gorgeous, bizarre. They draped it upon Annette’s slender form. They hung her head, neck and arms with glittering ornaments, and then they beckoned to her and led her to a window, and pointed, chuckling, through it. Annette knew not what they said, but Ponto without distinguished easily the meaning of the high shrill tones. “The sun god waits —is waiting for his bride.”

Annette’s glance traveled past the sfin god. She started back in horror. Ihto that seething pit beyond the acolytes were casting-huge quantities of suel —pouring the contents of huge jars of oil upon the flames. Her glance traveled still beyond, and across an intervening space she saw a dungeon window, and the white face of Neal. He waved his hand. And then strong hands were placed upon her shoulders and she was lifted from her fret and half dragged, half carried out of the temple into the center of the clear space before the sun god. The ceremony had begun. * Neal tore his glance for a moment from this scene and examined his cell. There was a window at his back — a heavily barred window. He seized the bars In desperation and found to his surprise that they were loose. With a superhuman effort,/kp thrust the bars outward, leaped through the aperture and darted swiftly,into the Jungle; then he looked about him for a tree and found the one he wanted. It was a high tree, very high. He climbed it swiftly—climbed it to its topmost branches. Cruising slowly off the shore—and the shore was not very far away—was his cruiser Albany. : _r ; ~ He braced himself among the branches with his fret, ripped off his shirt, tied it by the arms about a broken branch and signaled to the ship. WitHln the walls Ponto, still terrorstricken with the sun god’s anger, turned his back for a moment upon that deity and upon that deity’s high priest. Then suddenly he saw something. In the top of a high tree without the walls there was a white rag fluttering to and fro—and something more. A man. Ponto gripped Hernandez’s arm and pointed upward. The face of Hernandez froze. He darted toward the dungeon, saw that it was empty, then beckoning Ponto and the brute he darted to the stone wall and with their aid clambered over it.

Ponto, with considerably less agility and "With the assistance of the brute, followed his companion over, and the brute in turn, his head and shoulders lashed with Ponto’s whip wielded over the top of the wall, swung himself ever and followed them, — Annette noticed the confusion —was the first to see it. Suddenly striking an attitude she raised her hand and arm and pointed toward the white flag fluttering from the tree top. The high priest stopped his droning and followed the direction of her hand with his glance. His acolytes stopped and stared —so did everybody else. Annette saw her opportunity. Upon a standard by her side lay a heavy copper scepter. She seized it. Lithe as her body was she had inherited great strength—wonderful agility. Without a moment’s hesitation she swung the scepter viciously r about her head, dashing the high priest and his acolytes to the ground, knocking the Aztec warriors to right and left. Like a whirlwind she fought her way toward the gate, slammed it behind her and sped away. CHAPTER XXXIX. T' By His Eyelids. Hernandez and his two companions reached the tree. They reconnoitered. Above him in the swaying branches, all ignorant of the group below, Neal wigwagged his signals toward the Albany. His heart leaped within him, for the Albany wigwagged in returh. She was doing more —she was sending off her fastest launch shoreward, crowded to the gunwale,with marines —marines who knew their business. Below Hernandez smiled a diabolical smile. He was watching, not Neal, but the swaying of the tree. "Look,” he Said to Ponto, "see how these roots tug at this scant earthen covering. She is a tree growing on a rock. She totters. And she is more than a tree growing On a rock —she grows on the edge of a cliff. Beast, come here. Tell him, Ponto, what to do.” , Pont*' told him, emphasizing his pntnmaTidH with the ever-ready whip. The brute obeyed. He Set his shoulders to the tree trunk and began steadily, tirelessly, persistently to push: "Now, now," cried Hernandez, in a frenzy'of excitement. “On, on.” The tree crashed desperately over

the edge, and toppled Into depth* beneath. As ,Bhe did so there was a scream—v a woman’s. scream —Annette’s. Hernandez heard it; so did Ponto; but they could not locate it. Out of their sight, somewhere along that cljfL Anr nette was crotfching watching with eyes wide with terror. She saw the tree bend slowly outward, though she did not know the cause. • ' - Then her Trfwrt leaped within Her, ~Wr the tree had dropped, toppling over heels, so to speak, but by some great, chance it had brushed Neal lightly, not heavily, against the cliff, and then had plunged down to its own doom leaving him grappling for his life with a clump of bushes on » narrow ledge below.* She saw all this and so did Hernandez and his partner, Ponto. Ponto smote the brute upon'the shoulder. He pointed to. a huge stone at his feet. he commanded.. “Go down and finish him.” - The brute seized the stone and crept warily down a narrow path and reached the ledge upon which dung Neal. The brute slowly raised the rock above his head. As he did so a small firm hand clutched him by the shoulder—a woman’s hand. He turned and looked into the eyes of Annette Ilington. As though hypnotized he dropped the rock. “Help him,” commanded Annette, “help him. Do as I say.” Hernandez, white with rage, thrust Ponto behind him and leaned far over the edge of the cliff shaking his clegched hand impotently at the brute. “Do as I say,” he commanded. “I will flay you if you don’t.” He leaned too far, not for his own safety, but for the safety of some of his belongings. A paper packet wriggled easily and Joyously out of his breast pocket and slipped easily and joyously down the cliff, landing almost at Annette’s feet. The brute turned suddenly, darted forward, stretched forth a huge hand and jerked Neal from his precarious position up to the ledge—up to safety. The three stood there clinging to the side of the cliff; the brute panting with wonder, Neal and Annette panting with relief. Suddenly Annette stooped and picked up a packet that lay at her feet. She uttered a little cry of recognition—and with good cause. It was the identifying map—part of the evidence that linked her with the lost Isle of Cinnabar. Ten minutes later Neal flung up his hands and cheered —and with good cause. Over the brow of a hill, clambering like mad, there swarmed up through the Jungle a crowd of United States marines. Hernandez and Ponto saw them from above and with wild oaths turned and incontinently fled. The brute, obeying a sudden impulse, crept swiftly along the ledge and followed his retreating toasters. Neal and Annette ascended more cautiously and carefully. They met

the little squad of marines on the top of the cliff and Joined them in the double quick toward the Aztec stronghold. They reached the clearing. The gates of the walled city were open and the walls-bristled with annoredAxtee warriors. The marines fixed their bayonets and made ready for a charge. Suddenly, however, Neal held up his hands. "Listen," he exclaimed. From the unseen waters beyond there wsa the boom of a gun. "It’s my gun,” said NeaL “I know her when she speaks—my six-inch gun." The officer in charge of the sqhkd held up his hand. "Halt,” he commanded. His squad halted. It was well they did. Through the open gate they could see the sun god’s demoniacal countenance twisting and mounting in the red glare of the altar’s flames. Across the strip of jungle they could hear the boom-boom of the gun. Neal slapped his thigh with Joy. "He’s got the range already, boys,” he cried. I "Wait. Look—look—look.” With a mighty shout of triumph the marines leaped into the air yelling Hke demons themselves. They had good, cause, for the gunner on the Albany had more than found the range—he had planted an exploding shell in the very middle of the sun god—and the sun god and his temple, amid shrieks from a hundred throats —burst inte a thousand pieces—and disappeared TO BB CONTiNUJCP.)

There Was Something Struggling for Expression in Those Strange Eyes.

Annette Was Watching With Eyes Wide With Terror.

The Brute Slowly Raised the Rock Above His Head.