Evening Republican, Volume 22, Number 161, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 July 1919 — Page 2

PIECES OF EIGHT

“YOU YOUNG FOOL!"

Synopsis—The man who tells this story—call him the hero, for short— Is visiting his friend, John Saunders, British official in Nassau, Bahama islands. Charles Webster, a local merchant, completes the trio of friends. Saunders produces a written document purporting to be the death-bed statement of Henry P. Tobias, a successful pirate, made by him in 1859. It gives two spots where two millions and a half of treasure were burled by him and his companions. The conversation of the three friends is overheard by a pock-marked stranger. The document disappears. Saunders, however, has a copy. The hero, determined to seek the buried treasure., charters a schooner. The pockmarked man is taken on as a passenger. On the voyage somebody empties the gasoline tank. The hero and the passenger clash, the passenger leaving a manifesto bearing the signature, "Henry P. Tobias, Jr.” The hero lands on Dead Men’s Shoes. There is a fight, which is followed by several funerals. The hero finds a cave containing the skeletons of two pirates and a massive ehest—empty save for a few pieces .of eight scattered on the bottom. The hero returns to Nassau and by good luck learns the location of Short Shrift Island. ' Webster buys the yawl Flamingo, and he and the hero sail for Short Shrift island. As the Flamingo leaves the wharf a young fellow. “Jack Harkaway,” jumps aboard and is allowed to remain. _

CHAPTER ill—Continued. —7— “Fire away,” answered the youth, blowing a cloud of cigarette smoke in a delicate spiral up into the morning sky; “but I’ve really told you all I have to tell.” “No; you haven’t told us how you came to know of our trip, what we were supposed to be after, and when we were starting.” "That’s true!” flushed the lad, momentarily losing his composure. Then, partly regaining it: “Is it necessary to answer that question?” “Absolutely,” answered Charlie, beginning to look really serious. “Because, if you don’t mind . . . well, Td just as soon ndt.” “For that very reason I want to know. We are out on a more serious business than perhaps you realize, and ‘your answer may mean more to us “I'm sure it cannot be of such importhan you think.” tance to you. Really, it’s hardly fair for me to tell. I should have to give away a friend.” *Tm sorry, but I shall have to insist,” replied Charlie, looking very grim. “All right, then," answered the youth, looking him straight in the eyes, “put me ashore.” “No; I won’t do that now, either’,” declared Charlie, sternly setting his jaw. ‘Til put you in irons, rather — and keep you on bread and water —till you answer my questions.” “You will, eh?” retorted the youth, flashing fire from his fine eyes. And as he spoke, quick as thought, he

“You Young Fool!” Exclaimed Charlie.

leaped up on to the gunwale and, without hesitation, dived into the great glassy rollers. But Charlie was quick, too. Like a flash he grabbed one of the boy’s ankles, so that the beautiful dive was spoiled; and there was the, boy, hanging by an imprisoned leg over the ship’s side, a helpless captive—his arms in the water and his leg struggling to feet free. But he might as well have struggled against the grip of Hercules. In another moment Charlie ■had him hauled aboard again, his eyes full of tears of boyish rage and hutulliation. "You young fool!” exclaimed Charlie. "The water round hefe is thick with sharks; you wouldn’t have gone

fifty yards without one of them getting you.” “Sharks!" gasped out the boy, contemptuously. “I know more about sharks than you do.” *. “You seem to know a good many things I don’t,” said Charlie, whose grimness had evidently relaxed a little at the lad’s display of mettle. Meanwhile. my temper was beginning to rise on behalf of our young passenger. “I tell you what, Charlie," I interposed ; “if you are going to keep this up, you’d better count me out on this trip and set us both ashore at West End. You're making a fool of yourself. The lad’s all right.” The boy shot me a warm glance of gratitude. “All right,” agreed Charlie, beginning to lose his temper, too. “I’m damned if I don't.” And, his hand on the tiller, he made as if, to turn the boat about and tack for the shore. “No! no!” cried the boy, springing between us and appealingly laying one hand on Charlie’s shoulder, the other on mine. “You mustn’t let me spoil your trip. I’ll compromise. And, skipper, I’ll tell your friend here all there is to tell—everything—l swear—if you will leave it to his judgment.” “Rlght-o!” agreed Charlie at last; so our passenger and I thereupon withdrew for our conference. It was soon over and I couldn’t help laughing aloud at the simplicity of It all. “Just as I told you, Charlie,” I exclaimed ; “it’s innocence itself.” Turning td the lad, I said: “Dear boy, there is really no need to keep such a small secret as that from the skipper here. You’ll really have to let me tell him."

The boy nodded acquiescence. “All the same, I gave my word,” he said. When I told Charlie the innocent secret, he laughed as I had done, and his usual good humor instantly returned. The stubbornly held secret had merely amounted to this: Our lad was acquainted with my conchologist, and had paid him a visit the very afternoon I did, had in fact seen me leaving the house. Answering to the boy’s romantic talk of buried treasure and so forth, the shell enthusiast had thought no harm to tell him of our projected trip; and that was the whole of the mysterious matter. Yet the day was not to end without a little incident which, slight though indeed it was, was momentarily to arouse Charlie’s suspicions of our charming young companion once more. Presently, in the far southwest, tiny points like a row of pins began very faintly to range themselves along the sky-line. They were palm trees, though you could not make them out to be such, or anything in particular, till long after. One darker point seemed closer than the rest. “There’s High Cay!” rang out the rich >young voice of our passepger, whom we’d half forgotten in our tense scanning of the horizon. Charlie and I both turned to him together in surprise—and his face certainly betrayed the confusion of- one who has let something slip involuntarily. “Ho! ho! young man.” cried Charlie, his face darkening again, “what do you know about High Cay? I thought this was your first trip.” “So it is,” answered the boy, “on the sea.” “What do you mean: ‘on the sea?’” “I mean that I’ve done it many a time —on the chart. I know every bluff and roof and shoal and cay around Andros from Morgan’s Bluff to Washington’s Cut —” “You do, eh?” “On the chart. Why, I've studied charts since I was a kid, and gone every kind of voyage you can think of —playing at'buccaneering or whaling, or discovering the north pole. Every kid does that” “They do, eh?" said Charlie, evidently quite unimpressed. “I never did.” “That’s because you’ve about as much imagination as a turnip in that head of yours,” I broke in, in defense of my young Apollo. “Maybe, if you’re so smart,” continued Charlie, paying no attention to me, “you Can navigate us through the North Bight?” “Maybe!” answered our youngster pertly, with an odd little smile. He had evidently recovered his nerve, and seemed to take pleasure in piquing Charlie's suspicions.

CHAPTER IV. In Which We Enter the Wilderness. Andros, as po other of the islands, is surrounded by a ring of reefs stretching all around its coasts. We were inside the breakwater of the reefs and the roiling ’Swell of ocean gave way at once to a millpond calmness. We were at the entrance of North bight, one of the three bights which, dotted with numerous, low-ly-ing cays, breaks up tn the middle and allow : s a passage through a maze-like archipelago direct to the northwest end of Cuba. Here on the northwest shops is a small and

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER. IND.

By Richard Le Gallienne

Being the Authentic Narrative of a Treasure Discovered in the Bahama Islands in the Year 1003. No w First Given to the Public. - ~

very lonely settlement—one of the two or three settlements on the else-de-serted Island —Behring’s point. Here we dropped anchor and Charlie, who had some business ashore, proposed our landing with him; but here again our passenger aroused his suspicions—though Heaven knows why—by preferring to remain aboard. “Please let me off,” he requested in his most top-lofty English accent. “You can see for yourself that there’s nothing of interest —nothing but a beastly lot of nigger cabins, and dirty coral rock that will cut your boots to pieces. I’d much rather smoke and wait for you in peaceand, taking out his case and lighting a cigarette, he waved it gaily to us as we rowed off. He had certainly been right about Behring’s point—Charlie was absurdly certain that he had known it before, and had some reason for not landing—for a more forlorn and povertystricken foothold of humanity could hardly be conceived; a poor little cluster of negro cabins, indeed, scrambling up from the beach, and with no streets but craggy pathways in and out among the gray clinker-like coral. But it was touching to find even here that, though the whole worldly goods of the community would scarcely have fetched ten dollars, the souls of men were still held worth caring for; for presently we came upon a pretty little church, with a schoolhouse near by, \siile from the roof of an adjacent building we were hailed by a pleasant-faced white man, busy with some shingling. It was the good priest of the little place. Father Serapion, disguised in overalls and the honest grime of his labor; like a true Benedictine, praying with his strong and skillful hands. Father Serapion and Charlie were old friends, and Charlie took occasion to confide in him with regard to Tobias, and, to his huge delight, discovered that a man answering very closely to his description had dropped in there with a large sponger two days before. He had only stopped long enough to buy rum at the little store near the landing and had been off again through the bight, sailing west. Father Serapion, who knew Charlie Webster’s shooting ground, promised to send a swift messenger should anything further of interest to us come to his knowledge within the next week or so. Then we sailed away from Behring’s point, due west through the North bight. Morning found us sailing through a maze of low-lying desert islands of a bewildering samepess of shape and size, with practically nothing to distinguish one from another. We had hoped to reach our camp, out on the other side of the island, that evening, but that dodging the shoals and sticking in the mud had considerably delayed us. Besides, though Charlie and the captain both hated to admit it, we had lost our way. So night began to fall and, as there is no sailing in such waters at night, we once more cast anchor under a gloomy, black shape of land, exceedingly lonesome and forgottenlookingj which we agreed to call “Little Wood cay”—till morning.

Soon all were asleep except Sailor and me. I lay awake for a long time watching the square yard of stars that shone down through the hatch in our cabin ceiling like a little window looking into eternity, while the waters lapped iind lapped outside, and the night talked strangely to itself. Next morning Charlie and the captain were forced to own up that the island, discovered to the day, was not Little Wood cay. No humiliation goes deeper with a sailing man than having to ask his way. Besides, who was there to ask in that solitude? Doubtless a cormorant flying overhead knew it, but no one thought to ask him. However, we were in luck, for, after sailing about a bit, we came upon two lonely negroes standing «up in . their boats and thrusting long poles into the water. They were sponging—most melancholy of occupations —and they looked forlorn enough in the still dawn. But they had a smile for our plight. It was evidently a good joke to have mistaken Sapodilla cay for Little Wood cay. Of course we should have gone—“so.” And “so” we presently went, not without rewarding them for their information with two generous drinks of old Jamaica rum. One of our reasons for seeking Little .Wood cay, which it proved had been close all the time, was that it is one of the few cays where one can get fresh water. “Good water here," says the chart. We wanted to refill some of our jars, and so we landed there,, glad to stretch our legs, while old Tom ’cooked our breakfast on the beach, under a sapodilla tree. Now that we knew where we were, ft was clear, but by no means careless sailing to our camp. We were making for what is know’ij as the Wide Openipg, a sort of estuary into a listless stream or two crawl through mangrove bushes from the interior swamps. Here, a short distance from the bank, on some slightly ascending

rocky ground, under the spreading shade of something like a stretch of woodland, Charlie, several years ago, had built a rough log shanty for his camp—one of two or three camps he had thus scattered for himself up and down the “out islands,” where nearly all the land is no man’s, wind so every man’s land. The particular camp at which we now arrived he had not visited for a long time. Here Tom brought us our dinner and the dark began to settle dojrn upon us, thrillingly lonely, and full of strange, desolate cries of night creatures* from the mangrove swamps that surrounded our little oasis for miles. Sailor lay at our feet, dreaming of tomorrow's duck. His master’s thoughts were evidently in the same direction. “How are you with a gun?” he asked, turning to the boy. “Oh, I won’t brag. I had better wait till tomorrow. But, of course, you will have to lend me a gun.” “I have a beauty for you—just your weight,” replied Charlie, his face beaming as it did only at the thought-

They Were Sponging.

of his guns, which he kept polished like jewels and guarded as jealously as a violinist his violin, or an Arab his harem. Dawn was just breaking as I felt Charlie’s great paw on my shoulder next morning. He was very serious. Fot a moment, as I sat up, still half asleep, I thought he had news of Tobias. But it was only duck. I was scarcely dressed when Tom arrived with breakfast, and in a few minutes we had shouldered our guns and were crossing the half mile of peaty waste that divided us from the marl lakes. Ahead of us, the crew were carrying the skiffs on their shoulders, and very soon we were each seated in regulation fashion on a canvas chair in front of our respective skiffs, with our guns across our knees and a negro behind us to do the poling. Charlie went ahead, with Sailor standing in the bow quivering with excitement. The necessity of absolute silence, of course, had been impressed upon us all by the most severe of all sportsmen. Tom (who was poling me) and I understood that our job, and also that of my companion, was to steal behind one mangrove copse after another till we had got on the other side of a quacking flock of teal — which might then be expected to take flight in Charlie’s direction, and rush by him in a terrified whirlwind. This not very easy feat of stalking we were able to accomplish, thereby winning Charlie’s immense approval and putting him in a splendid temper for the rest of the day; for, as the wild cloud swept over him, he was able to bring down no less than seven. Like a true sportsman, in telling the story afterward in John Saunders’ snuggery, he averred that the number was nine! The days that now followed for a week might be said to be accurate copies of that first day. But they were none the less delightful for that —for there is a sameness that is far indeed from monotony—though I will confess that, for my own tastes, toward the week-end the carnage of duck began to partake a little of that latter quality. Still, Charlie and Sailor were so happy that I wouldn’t have let them suspect that for the world.

Jack Harkaway disappears, witjiout telling his secret. * (TO BJE CONTINUED.)

Germany has produced the greatest potato crop, with the United States second, and the British empire third.

BUSINESS MEN IN HISTORY

interesting Question as to Whether It la Better to Be Owner or Employee. —-r-L—_ The main object of life is doubtless to get something out of it besides trouble, and so any critical comparison of rival methods of earning a living cannot fall to be interesting to all men. The only ones not affected are the carefree hobo flitting from place to place and the wise lad who early in life took the precaution to marry the lovely daughter of the capitalist. Now, about the matter of running your own business or working for some one else on salary and commission. If we go into history the testimony is somewhat conflicting, writes J. R. Sprague in Sunset. Moses was a salaried man for the Pharaoh corporation and did very well for himself. On the other hand, our old friend Bismarck. also a salaried man, built up a wonderful business for his firm, but, as so often happens, was thrown out of a Job when he got along in years, and the young fellow stepped in and took over the business. Among those who went into business for themselves, Mark Antony did well and would probably have become head of the "world’s greatest corporation if he had not got into fast company and wasted his time on wine suppers, houseboat parties, and so on. Alexander the Great, strictly a business man with no foolishness about him, in ten years built up such a tremendous organization he fretted because there were no more goodsized towns where he could establish branch houses. Napoleon, who was in business for himself, prospered exceedingly for a number of years and probably would have died rich except for an unwise second marriage and the fact that he tried to spread out too much for his capital. We all know the outcome of the business owned and managed by William Hohenzollern. Interested creditors would do well to compare a Dun or Bradstreet report on his affairs made in the spring of 1914 with his rating at the present time.

See Stockyards First.

Jim, his father’s pride and mother’s joy, had been “over there” for nearly two years. Finally word was received that he had reached an Eastern port and -would soon be heading for camp to receive his little red discharge chevron. Eagerly the home folks had waited to welcome back their hero and planned to make the day of his arrival here en route to camp a big one. At four o’clock one afternoon Jim’s voice came over the telephone to his dad: “Leaving in fifteen minutes for camp.” Unable to understand the short stopover, the father inquired the time of his arrival in Chi. “Well, now, it was this way,” explained the warrior: “We got In at nine o’clock this morning, but I had a couple of pals with me who had never seen the stockyards, and I took them out to show them the place.”-—Chicago Tribune.

His Girl.

Dewey was six and it was his flrsi year at school. He remained aftei school each evening, not because o 1 failing to get ideas, for Dewey had plenty of ideas and room for more bus for sufficient reasons he had 8 special permit to stay. This gave him good opportunity to confide in Miss 0.. his teacher, about his “girl”—and every little brown curl around his neck nodded approval to all he said. On this particular afternoon, aftet the others had gone and all was still, Dewey, with wistful, big brown eyes, said: “Miss 0., you can’t guess whc my girl is now?” as if he were accustomed to changing. “It’s Margaret," and as he turned his head this waj; and that the little brown curls always assenting, he waded deeper: “1 never knew what love was till I saw Margaret” —Indianapolis News.'

Those Yankee Vandals.

A huge electric cross formed part of a German holiday celebration in one of the bridgehead towns. On New Year’s eve a private had “fraternized” tqythe extent of several schnapps and was walking toward his billet when he came upon a small group of Germans. “Nob-end,” said the buck genially. “Schoen,” answered the admiring German, looking up at the sign. The buck looked up. “Ta wohl.” He straightened himself and charged forward. “She’s erste classe. She’s mine.” A friendly M. P. soothed a sputtering burgomeister and escorted the souvenir hunter to his bunk.—Sergt. L. E. Warthman, A. E. F., in Judge.

Americans Led in Aviation Feat.

The first aviators to fly from or to the decfc of a warship were Americans. Eugene Ely flow from the deck of the scout cruiser Birmingham on November 14, 1910, and on January 18, 1911, the same aviator In a flight made by him at San Francisco alighted on the deck of the battleship Pennsylvania. He then made a return flight from the deck of that warship. - Other American aviators have since performed the same feat.

Stirring Incident

"Did you find your first airplane flight exciting?” “I certainly did,” said the venturesome citizen. “At the last moment friend wife rushed up and tried'to prevent me from going and when the propeller began to whirl she did a nosq dive into the arms of her nearest relative.”—Birmingham Age-Herald.

BEAR’S LAST FIGHT

Bruin Made Big Mistake When He Tackled Turtle. * / Like Ben King's Famous Pup, SlowMoving Loggerhead Demonstrated That "What He Took Hold of, He Never Let Go.** While bears are certainly dreadful antagonists, they have* been known to jet the worst of It when out of their element Curious and unequal combats occur when beasts of prey attack creatures under unusual circumstances. The pursuer in such a case is likely to incur more risk than the pursued, a fact that was Illustrated In a novel encounter In a harbor of Florida between a bear and a turtle. The crew of a schooner while ashore heard a strange rumpus and pushing around a turn in the beach, saw a huge loggerhead turtle in deadly combat with a big black bear. From the men's position it seemed Ehat the bear had sprung upon the turtle as it was retreating toward the water, and had tried to overturn it. In some way the bear had stepped in front of the turtle, which, thrusting Its head out, had quickly seized one of the bear’s hind legs and held it. At this the bear roared loudly, pawed furiously at the’ turtle’s back, and tried to force it over. The turtle resisted with all its strength and weight. He settled down close to the ground whenever the bear made an extra effort. Then, as the bear would relax its efforts the turtle would suddenly start up and endeavor to get nearer the water, keeping his firm hold on the bear’s leg. Finally, by a sudden push and a powerful muscular effort of his head and paws, bruin managed to get the turtle half set, one side being raised a foot or two. Pursuing his advantage, he seized one of the turtle’s hind flippers In his jaws, and the snap that followed showed that the bear felt that things were coming his way. He continued to chew tjhe flipper and endeavor to overthrow the turtle. But his antagonist worked around and finally got in a stroke with its sharp claw that badly ripped the bear’s underside. This infuriated the bear to such an extent that he let go his grip on the flipper and, reaching his head down, tried to reach and free his hind leg. Herein he committed a terrible tactical error and the enraged loggerhead quickly improved the opportunity thus afforded him. As the bear’s nose came within reach the turtle let go the hind leg and quick as a flash fastened his iron grip upon the bear’s jaw. The bear was taken by surprise and roared lustily with pain and rage. The turtle pushed on and dragged his unwilling captive along. The bear saw his dangei and felt it, toe, for they were so near the water’s edge that the waves were splashing them. The bear continued to struggle ferociously, but his strength soon began to fail, for the turtle dragged him deeper and deeper. Fighting with his head half the time under water so exhausted the bear that presently he began to gurgle. That moment was fatal. The Loggerhead marched off into the sea with his enemy and the last seen of the bear was the feeble kicking of his hind legs. Next day his body was washed ashore, cut into a dozen pieces. —New York Herald.

Can An Auto Prance?

Can an automobile prance?—or is it In this one respect Inferior to the horse? A feW days ago a handy little truck was navigating Spring street, Jeffersonville, which is rather rough because the war delayed repairs; It was loaded with long boards which projected far behind and practically balanced the truck on the rear axle. When holes In the street were struck the front wheels reared up so violently that the chauffeur, or driver, was catapulted into the air. He then got down and “led” his truck which did not prance unless running at least five miles an hour. Had he “let 'er out” she would certainly have set on her tail.—lndianapolis News.

Ideal Bed for Invalids.

In view of the elaborate care with which most details of sick nursing have been worked out, it is more than a little curious that the maintenance of the patient’s warmth in bed should have been left so long to the precarious ministry of the hot-water bottle. A.t thfe Treloar Cripples’ hospital, Alton, England, two wards are now supplied with electric mattresses, which have proved both safe and convenient In practice, even when a child is the occupant of the bed. The mattress is differentially heated, and the heating element is so disposed that the maximum warmth is generated at the foot end, less in the middle and none at all at the head end.

More Food From Irrigation.

Prospects throughout the western reclamation belt indicate that the food production records of 1917 and 1918 will probably be eclipsed by those of the current season. Prices of essential foodstuffs are high enough to make it attractive and profitable for farmers to produce on a big scale. Reportg indicate the labor supply is abundant and good, although demanding high pay. Credits are . not cramped, with the consequepce that native farmers are not handicapped in their operations. This is why It looks like a boom'year for the rubber-boot farmer* at the far West.