Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 17, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 January 1916 — Page 3

NEAL of the NAVY

By William Hamilton Osborne,

AUTHOR OF“RED MOUSE." "RUNNING FIGHT, "GATSPAW,"“BU)E OUCKLE.”ETC. NOVELIZED FROM THE PHOTO PLAY OF THE SAME NAME PRODUCED BY PATHE EXCHANGE. INC. copyright; /9J.5, sy iytlc/att /fA/f/Lra/r

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 Hernandez and Ponto in a vain attempt to get papers which Ilington has managed to send aboard the Princess with his 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 Slot to steal the papers left to Annette y her father. Neal tries for admission to the Naval academy, but through the treachery of Joey Welcher is defeated by Joey and disgraced. Neal enlists in the navy. Inez sets a trap for Joey and the conspirators get him in their power. In a struggle for possession of the map Hernandez. Annette and Neal each secure a portion. Annette sails on the Coronado In search of her father. In Martinique Annette and Neal are captured, but are rescued by a sponge diver. Inez forges identification papers for herself as Annette. In an insurrection Neal and Annette are again captured, carried to the Sun City and Annette is offered as a sacrifice to the sun god. They are rescued by marines from the Albany. Landed in Tortuga, Annette and Neap are captured and exposed to yellow fever infection by Hernandez. but are rescued by sailors from the Albany.' Inez tries to rob Annette and escapes. On her way to Chantfllo Annette is captured. Neal is promoted and leads a party of transferred men toward Chantillo, but is caught in a train wreck > on the way. Hernandez and Inez present the false identification papers to Brother Anselmo at Santa Marla mission. Ponto is caught and killed in his own trap, set for Annette. Annette proves title and turns over Lost Island to the govern- , nient. Welcher dies in a remorseful effort to save her from Hernandez. Annette and Neal, on their way to Lost Island, are wrecked on a cannibal island by Hernandez' trickery. The brute is accepted by the cannibals as their god.

THIRTEENTH INSTALLMENT WHITE GODS CHAPTER LV. Anthropophagi. A. white face—a white beard! Potent factors even with a savage tribe. The man-eaters of this South Pacific island, cringed in terror before the blank and staring eyes of the big Brute. His blank and staring eyes! They, too, had their weird effect. “Look —see,’’ whimpered this crowd of latter-day cannibals, the one to the other, “he sees across the world —he talks with spirits —he is a god!” The Brute, save for the slight weavIng of his massive figure from side to side, stood quiet and impassive. He was wholly unafraid. Behind him, however, crouched another figure that told another story. Hernandez, his hands still manacled, trembled with fear. But he was still resourceful —he knew his power. “Beast,” he whispered—and tremulous though it was, it still was a command, “Beast, you’ve got them down. Seize the foremost spike and run them through. Be quick.” The Brute heard his master's voice, and immediately obeyed. He stooped, and stooping, wrenched from the foremost naked figure the deadly weapon that the latter held within his grasp. It was relinquished without’ a struggle. Its former possessor stretched himself full upon the ground, waiting the death thrust. His savage companions drew back upon their haunches, their eyes glowing with religious fervor. "A sacrifice,” thqy cried, “a sacrifice.” But there was no sacrifice. Instead, the Brute merely held the spear aloft for a moment —held it in the air with both his hands. Then he brought it crushing down across his knee, and broke it clean in twain. “Eye-yah!” There was an ejaculation pfwonder—of brute applause for brute strength. The erstwhile possessor of ,the spear —as ugly-faced an individual as ever ate a pound of human flesh —touched the Brute upon the shoulder and pointed toward the jungle. ’’ “Follow him. Beast,” cried Hernandez a bit impatiently, “nothing can harnd us now.” For the first time the Brute seemed conscious of his master’s presence. He turned and faced Hernandez. He granted in uncertainty. , “Look —see,” said the leader, in his guttural accents and primitive tongue, 100k —see. This man is. his captive. The god is hungry. He would eat.” The leader pointed to the manacled hands of Hernandez. He made a sign —a sign immediately obeyed. A dozenblacks sprang forward, seized Hernandez and swung his body to their shoulders. Then at another word of command, they started off, jog trot toward the jungle. Hernandez struggled like a maniac, but to no purpose. Then he yelled: “Follow, Beast, follow,’’ he cried. “Save me. pome.” The Brute followed, wondering. Not for one instant did he suspect the man-eaters had sinister designs upon his master. Finally they entered a wide clearwas a village of straggling huts and tents. * Ji was a ghastly village—an 111-smelling village —Scattered about It were skulls and bones enough,to furnish Jolly Kogers to g hundred pi-

i ate ships. It became clear then to Hernandez that the party on the beach —the small company of cannibals that had surrounded him and his companion, were merely a side issue. Here was a city—here a multitude. He had little time, however, for reflection. He was flung violently to the ground. The leader of the little band touched the Brute updn the breast and made a sign. "Look —see,’’ he signed. The Brute ■followed, staring, mildly wondering, possibly —perhaps not wondering at all. The leader led the way to a rude hut, larger than the rest, and grotesquely daubed with clay. In front of- this he paused .and chanted some weird song. A figure, huge and unwieldy, appeared in the doorway. Huge and unwieldy as he was, he was a pygmy compared with the big Brute. He was a chief, this man, and he looked it, every inch. He was the greasiest, the dirtiest, of all the greasy, dirty crew. In his right hand he held a bone. Now and then he gnawed upon it —now and then he used it as a scepter. He extended ’it and touched the approaching native on the forehead. The latter bowed—then turned and pointed at the Brute. "This,” he jabbered in his native tongue, ‘‘is a god, and risen from the sea. He is hungry. He would eat.’’ The chief in turn threw himself upon his face. He called to all the multitude, and bade them do likewise. Then he remembered. He rose and signed to Brute. "He is hungry,” he repeated. “The god would eat.” Then he led the way to the fire. The Brute stared at it contemplatively. He smiled. "The god is pleased,” exclaimed the chief, “let us therefore eat.” He cast from him the bone he had been holding. He made another sign. The Brute glanced to one side. There upon the ground, wild eyed with fright, lay three human beings. Upon one of these miserable victims a dozen men now pounced. They lifted him, writhing, into the air, and started toward the flames. They were about to fling him across the flames when something happened. The Brute understood. With one bound he was upon them, and with wide sweeps of his powerful hands and arms he scattered them right and left. There was a'wild murmur '"against this outrage —a sudden handling of spears and stone heads, but the Brute never heeded the outcry. Instead he calmly stooped over each victim, one by one, and tore the bonds of each apart, and set them free. He held back the angry mob while the three captives trotted .nimbly off into the nearby jungle. Thp chief stared at him astounded. He might, indeed, have brained the Brute with his club had he not felt the terrific grip of the Brute upon him. Then he realized —once more—that the 'Brute was not a mere man, after all. There was a wild clamor, but the chief stilled it with uplifted hand. Then the leader of the beach band stepped forward and saluted. “He has Jiis own captive,” he whispered to the chief, “see, yonder. He brought him with him, out of the sea.” The chief understood. He gave an order. A dozen more braves sprang toward Hernandez and bore him to the chief. The chief pointed toward the poles and the green vines lying torn upon the ground. In an instant, Hernandez lay prostrate —in another instant half his clothes were torn from his back. "Beast,” he shrieked, “save me, Beast.” The Brute saved him. He charged into their midst like a raging bull—he tore Hernandez from their grasp. 2 The Brute snarled in his throat—he kicked and clutched and clawed at the little nucleus of savages. They fell back before him as before a whirlwind —they were stunned. Again, murmurs. But again the murmurs were silenced by the chief himself. “He is his own captive,” said thd~ chief to his followers, “let him do as he will.” Hernandez, once upon his feet, was not slow to act. “Quick,” he said to the Brute, “get a stone —two stones. Knock these wristlets from my hands.” He held out his manacled wrists — the Brute understood, and obeyed. With his two hands free, Hernandez’ brain was working once again. Quick as a flash he stooped and picked up a short piece of twisted vine. Raising his hand high in air, he brought this piece of vine—a stinging, snakelike whipv-swishing down upon the head aridshoulders of the Brute. The Brute cowered, cringed, whimpered. Hernandez folded his arms, stared sternly at the. Brute for one swift instant, and then turned and met tha glances of the chief and all his —The chief was startled. He plucked his lieutenant by the arm. “Look,” said the chief, “the big man is a god, but this is his master ”

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, INR»

. CHAPTER LVI. Neal, from quite another poirtion of the beach, scanned the horizon With alarm v ' He shook his head. The horizon line was clear-f-there was no hint of Smoke. He turned to the first mate of the wrecked fruit steamer that lay stranded on the reefs. “We’ve got to get Word to the Missouri, somehow,” he said, “beside, we’ve left Annette and my mother starving back there. Let’s return.” Neal found his mother and Annette where he had left them. * Cocoanuts and clams, hurriedly gathered, supplied them with a satisfactory meal. Neal stretched his arms. “I never can think upon an empty stomach,” he remarked, “so I’m Just beginning to dope things out. Look at friend sea,” he exclaimed, "she’s like a millpond. The tide's out. There’s not a wave splashes over the wreck. I’m off." “Where to?”. queried his mother in alarm. “I’m going to row over to the wreck and help myself—to some S. O. S.” He strode to the water’s edge. He beckoned to the first mate. In another moment they were launched and pulling with even, steady strokes toward the wreck beyond. They made fast the boat, shipped their oars and clambered up the side of the almost submerged fruit steamer. “Good,” said Neal, “the wireless room is Intact.” He sent out his call —cast it to the four winds —his messenger, seeking everywhere for the Missouri. On the Missouri the wireless operator got It —feebly at first. “S. O. S.” clamored Neal. "Who are you?” queried the battleship. Neal told him. “All right,” said the Missouri, “we’ll be there in three shakes of a lamb’s tail.’’ Or words to that effect. On shore, meantime, Annette, the wanderlust ever strong within her.liad wandered up the beach and out of sight. The solitude was appalling, but not unpleasant. Tripping along gayly, she had stumbled over something half hidden by the sand. Her firm step had loosened it —but it had nearly sent her sprawling. She drew back, regarding the

object in affright. Then ce turned and darted back toward safety at full speed. Arrived at the little camp she clutched frantically at the arm of one of the crew. “A human sktUL” she gasped, “back there. I saw it, buried in the sand.” . CHAPTER LVII. Safety First. Not for one instant did Hernandez lose the advantage that he had already gained. With audacity that belonged only to him. he led the Brute to the chief’s own throne —a rude affair composed of a rough seat under overhanging bowers. "Go —sit." he exclaimed to the Brute. He enforced the command with a shower of blows. The Brute obeyed. "Hungry,” said the eye and hand of Hernandez, to the chief, “the god still hungry—and the master of god, very, veH hungry, still.” The chief spread his He.pointed toward the jungle whence had sped the several captives unbound by the Brute. Hernandez smiled —a deadly, wicked smile. ~ ' "Beast,” he exclaimed, “stay where you are.” He beckoned to the chief. “You come with me.” he signed. ' The chief nodded, beckoned to a number of his bodyguard, and followed Hernandez through the jungle. At a knoll on its outskirts Hernande? held, hl.B fingers to his lips. Then he pushed the chiefs head through the bushes. ' "Look,” he Said, enforcing the command. The chief looked. He looked far out across the placid waters of-the Paclfic. and there he saw a wreck. "Um-m!” exclaimed ths chief, "Ah,” laughed Hernandez to himself,' “you know . what that means all right.” -, The chief started through the bushes at breakneck speed—but Hernandez

“Beast," He Shrieked, “Save Me, Beast!"

restrained him, keeping his finger on his Ups. "Me,” signed Hernandezj, “follow me. Do what I do.” For one Instant he looked about him, getting his bearings. Then he started on. For many minutes the party skirted the edge of the jungle, never once showing Itself, and moving always silently as the -grave itself. At length Hernandez once more halted — this time on the edge of a grove of palms. Holding his cannibal crew back, Hernandez beckoned to the chief to advance alone. The chief obeyed. With the swiftness of two savages, Hernandez and the chief darted behind the trunks of two separate trees. Hernandez pointed toward the beach. “White meat, you old gourmand," whispered Hernandez, "white meat. And very tender.” Down on the beach, busying themselves about their self-appointed tasks, were Annette and her foster mother. There were several members of the fruit steamer's crew —all'white. There was Inez Castro —also white 2 —but an outcast, sitting, brooding by herself. Hernandez counted the men. “We need four to one, at least,” he said to himself. Then he nodded to the chief and held up the fingers of both hands several times. The chief understood. He was a warrior. He knew that much safety lay in numbers. He beckoned to two of his mt n and gave them orders. They crept back, silently through the trail. Hernandez and the chief wriggled back into the undergrowth and then sat down to wait. Annette’s party suddenly made up its mind to decamp. The discovery of the skull upon the beach was a ’disturbing fact. "When Neal comes —" said Annette. "Right,” said a sailor, “we’ll put it up to him/* 7 ——■ 7™"** He glanced casually toward the grove of palms, this sailor. Then with an oath he sprang to his feet. "Boys,” he cried aloud, feeling for weapon, "we’re in for it. Women in the shed. Look, here they come.” The other sailors, with the swiftness of seamen in a sudden squall, were upon their feet, each with a weapon in his hand. They forced the women into the hut and formed a circle, guarding it. And then broke the storm. With the yell of a thousand demons, the black man-eaters were upon them. One warrior seized Inez in his grasp, and with a cry of triumph darted with

her toward the jungle. A sailor who followed was stricken down. But it was Hernandez who stopped the captor. He darted after him and caught him by the arm. "Back,” he ordered, with a sign that spelled fury, "back there. This woman belongs to me.” “Senorlta,” said Hernandez suavely, bearing her to a place of comparative security, “let us be noncombatants for once. Get others working for you, is my motto. As, for us, why—safety first.” Inez shivered. She dragged Hernandez toward an opening between the trees. “Look, look,” she cried, her face, rigid with terror, “its horrible, horrible, horrible.” ~ A short time later, by the side of Hernandez, she stumbled blindly through the jungle—in the midst of a howling, panting mob of half-naked warriors. The warriors were the victors. And they bore with them the spoils —two women, still alive, a small squad of torn and battered sailors, and a few silent figures*—silent forever. “What are they going to do?” wailed Inez. Hernandez shrugged his shoulders. "Its out of my hands,” he said, “but I’ve got to see it through. I’ve got to know wbat happens. I’ve got to be there —or else they’ll get me too. cape, you and I, never fear. I’ve arranged for it. I’ve arranged for—safety first. CHAPTER LVIII. - •< . -- . The Feast. Because Ilington and her foster mother had ever lived in the vicinity of New they had always been within the newspathe advantage of telephone, and motor car, and motion picture—because of all the luxury and civilization surround.ing them, they never otfee supposed th«t man-eating savages still existed.

Struggling with her captors, Annette stumbled on blindly through the Jungle. Behind her she heard the muttered oaths of the male members of her*party. Just once she heard a whisper. “Don’t tell the women—for God’s sake don’t tell the women. They’ll be knowing, soon enough." At that moment there was a distant shout that grew stronger and stronger. The cannibal crew answered it—it rollicked back and forth. Then in the near distance Annette heard the breaking of bodies through the undergrowth and a fresh crowd of savages appeared, yelling like mad. This new crowd seized Annette and swung her to their shoulders, and with her, fan through the undergrowth like deer. And then —they dashed Into the clearing. They darted acroes the open space, still with Annette in their clutches —and laid her down before the Brute —who still sat on his crude dais, staring, always staring into space. Annette struggled to her feet and looked wildly about her. Her foot touched something and she started back—looked down. The object was a skull. Annette shrieked in terror —she tried to hide her face but could not. She saw the fire —she looked into the eyes of her fellow captives. Upon their foreheads sweat stood out in beads-—cold sweat, the sweat of fear. She asked a question of them with her eyes, but they turned their heads away. Then, understanding at last, Annette swooned —slumped into a heap at the feet of the Brute. The Brute staring, always staring, rose to his feet. He stooped down. But before he could touch the girl, the chief intervened. The chief himself lifted her, and held her where the god rtran could look upon her. He mouthed and smacked hia lips. ■And the Brute, recognizing Annette, nodded his head and smiled with that vacant smile of his. “Eye-yah,” yelled the multitude of savages, “the god Is hungry —he will eat/’ “All—all will eat,” cried the chief in triumph. “This white girl first.” He made another sign, and a dozen savages broke away and came back with huge logs, which they swung into the dying fire, sending its sparks high into the air. They, seized one of the long poles, and tied Annette to it —tied her with green, strong vines. They waited for a moment to let the fire gain headway. . . . * They clustered round her, danced about her—touched her. . . . Down on the beach, two merry men leaped out of a lifeboat and drew her well upon the shore. “The gang—” began the mate. Then he stopped. With a wild yell he darted up the beach, Neal by his side. “What’s happened,” stammered Neal, “where are —” He said no more. By this time they were standing on the blackened embers of a scattered Are —by the rude hut shattered and broken—and by two or three red splotches that stained the white sand and soaked it. Neal, his face gone white with terror, clutched the mate by the arm. “Blood," he gasped, “blood. Whose blood? You tell me that.” Then the two men —only two —still side by side, sped on toward the |ungle. The footprints led that way. At the grove of palms they stopped. They glanced about uncertainly. “Here,” cried Neal, darting forward, “a bit of Annette’s dress. Come on.” It was easy now, following this trail. But ever and anon Neal glanced at his comrade. “Whose blood?” he demanded, “tell me that.” And the two men —only two—went on. At last, guided now by shouts and cries of triumph, they reached the clearing and peered across it. "My God,” cried Neal aloud, “looklook.” Two savages—two at first and then a dozen—had seized the long pole and had begun to swing it out across the fire. Upon it, limp, unconscious, tightly bound, lay the form of Annette. Neal was across the clearing in a bound. Like a maniac. Neal charged into the group of warriors who held one end of the long pole and stripped them from it. “ With the same fearful energy he charged into the gang at the other end and knocked them down. Then, bestriding the prostrate form of Annette—and he knew not whether she was alive or dead —he squared himself and howled defiance. - “Come on,” he cried, “the whole bunch of you. Come on." Over In a hut, crouched and cowering, was Inez Castro —watching with eyes wide with fear. “Hernandez,” she shrieked, “Hernandez —here.” Hernandez crept toward her.- “You are right, Senorlta,” he said, his breath coming and going, his heart beating like a trip hammer with excitement, • you are right. It IS not in our hands. Now is our good time. Let us get away.” “Horrible,” cried Inez. “Therefore-— away.” went on Hernandez leading her by the, hand, “away from here —and to our fortune, Lost Isle.” “Horrible,” repeated Inez, holding her hand, across her face. “Ah " satd Hernandez. now dragging her with him, a bit. roughly, “but they are all accounted for—except the boat. AndJ&e boat is on the sands. yoti come with the.” Almost Utting her from the ground he darted with tier across the open space, unnoted by any of the savage crew »nd safely reached the jungle trail. Reaching it. he put his hand upon his lips.

“Careful," he said, “ws know not whom we may meet Careful. Come. We’re safe." Bapk before tbe/flre, two men fought, back to back. One was Neal—and one the mate. They fought like tigers—for a moment, but riot more. Twenty to one the man-eaters hurled themselves upon two white men and bore them, senseless, to the ground. The Brute meanwhile, was gazing wildly all about him—looking for his master and vain. Suddenly, he of all men, saw the exit of Hernandez —saw him steal away. At first he may have been Impelled to follow—for he started off. But a close observer might have noted an expression of relief cross his countenance, for he sank back once more upon his seat and watched the fight. He even laughed—to him it seeme 1 like a new game. A fight was child » play to the Brute. But when the unconscious forms of Neal and the mate were borne away, he seemed alarmed. He started once more to his feet. “Eye-yah," cried the chief to his followers, "the white god hungers. On with the feast.” i - Once more the bearers seized An-nette-still lashed firmly to the pole. Then for the first time the Brute realized that something was wrong—that here was horror. He darted into the midst of the warriors and swung his arms. "No—no.” he cried. But the mere word of a god could never stop them now. They were hungry—they had fought for spoils and the spoils were theirs. They * shouldered him aside, and went on. • They didn’t get far. The Brute wan fresh —he had been resting. With one fell swoop he once more charged upon them, and tore them —broke them with his hands, broke their backs across his knees—cracked their skulls with a single blow. He swept them all before him, carrying the fight across the clearing. He seized one of the long poles and mowed them down like grain. He was more than one man— he was ten. But he was only ten —no more. . . • Meantime, Neal’s captors, determined on a little private vengeance, had trussed him up, or tried to. But that tough young man, having partially revived, permitted his captors—there were but two —to go Just so tar. Then he came to life, and applied the gentle art of jiu jltsu to each of them in turn. It waa effective—and bone breaking. Then Neal saw—and his heart leaped. Annette for the moment was deserted. The fight was centered on the Brute. Neal sprang to Annette, and with deft fingers loosed her bonds. He lifted her gently to his shoulder and started off. He was too late. For the fight with the Brute was over. For one instant the Brute had left open a vulnerable point —his defense had failed. With a mighty swung of a mighty war club, one of his antagonists dealt him a swinging, deadly blow upon the head. The Brute fell like a log. Then somebody saw Neal and Annette Like a tidal wave, the whole crowd surged back to their fair victim. Neal, surrounded, dropped Annette to the ground and held his hands high in air. “God help us —help us,” he cried in desperate need. At that moment there was a ringing volley of rifle shots. savagea fell dead. The rest turned to face another so new kind. Out of the bushes sprang a squad of marines from the Missouri. They had landed in response to Neal’s wireless. They had struck the trail. They had arrived—just in the nick at time. “Pick your man,” cried Neal, “fire—ah." With a wild shout the savage crew turned and fled —fled In vain, each pursued by a man in uniform, each outmatched by one man. And when the squad had finished, there was no village—and no villagers. Neal saluted the officer in charge, and apologized. “Wasn’t my business to give orders, sir,** he smiled, "but if you’d been in my place. ...” The officer saluted in his turn. "Don't worry, son,” he said, “youll be in my place If you keep on fighting like that—you’ll keep going up—and up.” Neal revived Annette —no very difficult task, for Annette Ilington had inherited from some source remarkable strength and endurance and wknp derful nerve. He found his mother still insensible, but suffering only from “It’s a good thing,” Annette whispered to him, “that she didn’t see it all." Neal clenched his hands. "It’s a bad thing any of us saw IL” he exclaimed, “somebody’s got to pay for this —somebody’s got to pay.” With Annette clinging to him he strode over to a group of seamen who clustered about an object on the ground. The lieutenant was bending over the Brute. , "he may pull through—but that’s not saying much.” Annette kneeled down by the figure of the Brute. "He must live,” she murmured, he’s saved my life—not once but many times.” set with an improvised sail, Hernande* and Inez Castro glided over the Surface of a placjd ocean. . '• - On—to Lost Isle,” cried Hernandes • Inez stared, motionless, expressionless. into space. ' ■ ' • “Horrible.” she moaned dully, rible. Oh, God ” ' (TO B§ CONTINUED.)