The Syracuse and Lake Wawasee Journal, Volume 14, Number 27, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 3 November 1921 — Page 2

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Thankful as I was for the departure of Captain Magnus, 1 underwent torments in the stifling interior of the cabin. Aunt Jane wept piteously. At last I heard a faint moan: “Virginia !” 1 went to her. “Yes, auntie?" "Virginia,” she murmured. “I think I shall not live to leave the Island, even if I am not —not executed. In fact, I have a feeling now as though the end were approaching. I have always known that my heart was not strong, even if your Aunt Susan did call it indigestion. But oh. my dear child, it is not my digestion—it is my heart that has been wounded! To have reposed such confidence in a serpent I To realize that I might have been impaled upon its fangs! Oh. my dear, faithful child, w'liat. would 1 have done if you had not clung to me although 1 permitted serpents to turn me from you I But I am cruelly punished. All I ask is that some day—when you are married and happy, dear —you will remove from this desolate spot the poor remains of her who —of her who- —” Sobs choked Aunt Jane’s utterance. "Jane —” began Miss HigglesbyBrowne. “1 was speaking to my niece," replied Aunt Jane with unutterable dignity from her corner. Her small features had all but disappeared in her swollen face, and her hair had slipped down at a rakish angle over one eye. But. of course, being Aunt Jane, she must choose this moment to be queenHy. “There, there, auntie,” I said soothingly, “of course you are not going to leave your bones on this island. If • you did you know, you and Bill Halliwell might ha’nt afound together—think how cozy! (Here Aunt Jane gave a convulsive shudder.) As to my being married, if you were betting just now on anybody’s chances, they would have to be Captain Magnus’, wouldn’t they?" "Good gracious, Virginia!” shrieked Aunt Jane faintly. But I went on relentlessly, determined to distract her mind from thoughts of her approaching end. "All things considered, 1 suppose 1 really-ought to ask you to put jny affairs in order when you get back. If I am carried off by the pirates, naturally I shall have to jump overboard at once, though I dislike the idea of drowning, arid especially of being eaten by sharks. Would you mind putting up a little headstone —it needn’t cost much —in the family plot, with just ‘Virginia’ on it? And rrnything of mine that you don’t wan’ yourself I’d like Bess to have for the baby, please. Ask her when the little duck is old enough to tell her my sad story —’’ By this time Aunt Jane was sobbing loudly and waving her little hands »about Ln wild beseeching. “Jane!” broke in Miss Browne again In awful tones. But at that moment the door of the cabin opened and the face of Slinker peered in. “Say,” lie remarked, “there ain’t no sense in you girls stayin’ cooped up here that I see. I guess me and Horney IIH “There Ain’t No Sense in You Girls Stayin’ Cooped Up Here.’’ can stand you off if you try to rush us. Come out and cool off a little.”. The great heat of the day was over and the sun already dropping behind the peak of the island. Mr. Shaw and Cuthbert had been allowed to sit in the siiade, and I thought their wrists were not too tightly bound for comfort. Cookie had been released, and under the eye of Horney was getting supper. Crusoe had earlier in the day received a kick in the ribs from Captain Magnus, fortunately too much occupied with the prisoners to pursue his vengeance further, and had fled precipitately, to my enormous relief. The dog was quite wise enough to know that he would help me best by keeping out of the clutches of our common foe. Just then there come from the woods the sound of footsteps and voices, and the three pirates and Mr. Tubbs entered the clearing. A thrill ran through the camp.. Qantprs and captives forgot

all else but the great, the burning question— had the treasure been discovered? And lam sure, that no one was so thrilled as I. although In my mind the question took -another form. For now I was going to know what had been waiting for me there in the cave, when I stood yesterday at its black entrance, afraid to go in. CHAPTER XVI. From Dead Hands. At the head of the file, Capt. Tony advanc'd through the clearing, and what with his flowing black beard, his portly form and a certain dramatic swagger which he possessed, he looked so entirely Italian and operatic that you expected to hear him at any moment burst out in a sonorous basso. With a sweeping gesture he flung down upon the table two brown canvas bags, which opened and discharged from gaping mouths a flood of golden coins. Slinker and the cross-eyed man shouted aloud. They ran and clutched at the coins with a savage greed. “Gold, gold—the real stuff I It’s* the doubloons, all right—where’s the rest of ’eft)?” These cries broke from Slinker and Horny confusedly as the gold slid jingling between their eager fingers. “The rest of ’em is—where they is,” pronounced Tony oracularly. “Somewheres In the sarid of the cave, of course. Well dig ’em up tomorrow morning.” z “What was the point In not digging ’em all up while you was about it?” demanded Slinker, lowering. “What was the good o’ digging up jest these here couple o’ bags and quitting?” "Because we didn’t dig ’em up,” responded Tony darkly. “Because these was all ready and waiting. Because all we had to do was to say ‘Thankee,’ to the feller that handed ’em out. We got these here bags of doubloons, as I says, without havin’ to dig for ’em — oncet we had found the cave, which it’s no thanks to old Washtubs we ain’t looking for it yet. We got these here bags right out of the fists of a skeleton. Most of him was under a rock, which had fell from the roof and pinned him amidships. Must of squashed him like a beetle, I guess. But he’d still kep’ his hold on the bags." I turned aside, for fear that anyone should see how white I was. To the rest, these poor bones might indeed bear mute witness to a tragedy, but n tragedy lacking outlines, vague, impersonal, without poignacy. To me, they told with dreadful clearness the last sad chapter of the tale of Peter; Peter who had made me so intimately his confidante, whose love and hopes and solitary strivings I knew all about. Vaguely I heard around me a babble of exclamations and, conjectures. Murmurs of interest rose even from our captive band. Then came Slipker’s voice, loud with sudden fear: “Say, you don’t suppose the —the Bones would of got away with the rest of the coin somehow, do you?” he demanded. “Got away with it?” Tony contemptuously thrust aside the possibility. “Got away with It how? He sure didn’t leave the island with it. did he? Would he of dug It up from one place jest to bury it in another? Huh! Must of wanted to work if he did! Now, my notion is that this happened to one of the guys that was burying the gold, and that the rest jest left him there for a sort of scarecrow to keep other people out of the cave.” “But the gold?"* protested Slinker. “They wouldn’t leave that for a scarecrow, would they?” “Maybe not," admitted Tony, “but suppose that feller died awful slow, and woat on hollering and clutching at the bags? Well, that cave wouldn’t be a pleasant place to stay In, would it? And no one would have the nerve to snatch them bags away to bury ’em, ’cause a dying man, especially when he dies hard, can have an awful grip. ,So what they done was just to shovel the sand in on the gold they’d stowed away and light out quick.” If the ingenuity of this reasoning was more remarkable than its logic, the pirates were not the men to find fault with it. Desire is the most eloquent of advocates, and the five ruthans had only to listen to its voice to enjoy in anticipation all the fruits of their iniquitous schemes. The sight of the golden coins Intoxicated them. They played with the doubloons like children, jingling them in their calloused palms, guessing at weight and value, calculating their equivalent in the joy of living. Laughter and oaths resounded. And now the night that I unutterably dreaded was upon us. But the pirates still thought of nothing but the gold. They had exhausted their own portable supplies of liquor, and were loud in their denunciations of our bonedry camp, as they termed It. It was Tony who intercepted a tentative movement of Capt. Magnus in my direction, and ordered me into the cabin with my aunt and Miss Browne. Through the walls of the hut we heard loud and eager talk of the morrow and its certain golden harvest as the pirates made their dispositions for the night. Then the voices trailed off sleepily and silence succeeded, brokep only by the t ceaseless murmur of the waves around the island.

Kekwm WT WW® 3 ! IIi Hi They Played With the Doubloons Like Children. CHAPTER XVII. Os Which Cookie Is the Hero. Next morning I came out of the hut in time to see Mr. Shaw and his companion in duress led forth from the keeping quarters which they had shared with their captors. They were moored as before to a palm tree, by a rope having a play of two or three feet, and their hands unbound while they made a hasty breakfast under the eye of a watchful sentinel. Then their wrists were tied again, not painfully, but with a firmness which Imade any slipping of their bonds impossible. While the pirates were breakfasting a spirited dispute took place among them as to who should go to the treasure cave and who stay in camp to guard the prisoners. Slinker and Horny urged with justice that, as they had missed all the excitement of the preceding day, it was their turn to visit the cave. The right to see the Bones they passionately claimed. Tony supported them, and It ended witn Chris and Captftin Magnus being told off as our guards for the morning. In leaving the cabin I had slipped into my blouse a small penknife which I bad found in Aunt Jane’s bag. It was quite new, and I satisfied myself that the blades were keen. My own large sheath-knife and my revolver I had been deprived of at the suggestion of the thougiitful Magnus. 1 had surrendered them unprotestingly, fearful of all things that my possessions might be ransacked and Peter’s diary, though hidden with much art at the bottom of the bag, be brought to light. For I might yet sell the secret of the Island Queen at a price which should redeem us all. As the heat increased a voice of lamentation broke from Chris. He was dry—dry enough to drink up the condemned ocean. No, he didn’t want spring water, which Cookie obsequiously tendered him; he wanted a drink—wouldn’t anybody but a fool nigger know that? There was plenty of the real stuff aboard the schooner, on the other side of the—adjective—island. Why had they, with incredible lack of forethought, brought along nothing but their pocket flasks? Why hadn’t they sent the adjective nigger back for more? Where was the bottle or two that had been rooted out last night from the medical stores? Empty? Every last drop gone down somebody’s greedy gullet? ffhe adjectives came thick and fast as Chris hurled the bottle into the bay, where it swam bobbingly upon the ripples. Captain Magnus agreed with the gist of Chris’ remarks, but deprecated, in a truly philosophical spirit, their unprofitable heat. There wasn’t any liquor, so what was the good of making an adjective row? Hadn’t he endured the equivalent of Chris’ present sufferings for weeks? He was biding his time, he was. Plenty of drink by and by, plenty of all that makes life soft and easy. He bet there wouldn’t many hit any higher spots than him. He bet there was one little girl that would be looked on as ■ lucky, In case she was a good little girl and encouraged him to show his natural kindness. And I was favored with a blood-curdling leer from across the camp, of which I had put as much as possible between myself and the object of my dread. But now, like a huge black Ganymede, appeared Cookie, bearing Cups and a large stone crock. “It suhtinly am a fact. Mlstah Chris, sah,” said Cookie, “dat dey is a mighty unspirituous fluidity ’bout dis yere spring watah. Down war I Is come from no pussons of de Four Hund‘ed ain’t eveh 'customed to partake of such. But the sassiety I has been in lately round dis yere camp ain’t of de convivulous ordah; ole. Cookie had to keep it dark dat he got his ll’le drop o’ -comfort on de side. Dis yere’s only home-made stuff, sah. ’Tain’t what I could offah to a gennelmun if so be I Is got the makin’s of a genuwine oldstyle julep what is de beverage of de fust fam’lies. But bein’ as it is, it am mighty coolin’, sah, and it got a ll’le kick* to it —not much, but jes’ enough to make a gennelmun feel lak he is one.” Cookie’s tones dripped humility and propitiation. He offered the brimming cup crlngqjgly to the pale-eyed, rednosed Chris, who reached for it with alacrity, drauk deep, smacked his lips meditatively, and after a moment passed the cup back. “ ’Tain’t so worse,” he said approvingly. “Anyhow, it’s drink!” Magnus suddenly began to laugh. “S’elp me, it’s the same dope what laid out the Honorable!” he chortled. “Here, darky, let’s have a swig of it!" Cookie complied, joining Respectfully in the captain’s mirth. “I guess you-all is got stronger haids den dat young gennelmun!” he remarked. “Dis yere ole nlggah has help hisself mighty freely and dat prohibitionist Miss Harding ain’t eveh found it out. Fac’ is, it am puffeckly harmless 'cept when de hqid .te.weak,”

LAKE WAWASEE AND SYRACUSE JOURNAL

False, false CooEieT ETack brother in perfidy to Mr. Tubbs! One friend the less to be depended on If a chance for freedom ever came to us! Cookie refilled the pirates’ cups, and set the crock beside them on the ground. “In case you gennelmun feels yo’selfs a ll’le thursty later on," he remarked. He was retiring, when Captain Magnus called to him. “Blackle, this ain’t bad. It’s coolin’, but thin—a real, nice ladylike sort of drink, I should say. Suppose you take a swig over to Miss Jinny there with my compliments—l’m one to always treat a lady generous if she gives me half a chance.” Obediently Cookie hastened for another cup, set it on a tray, and approached me with his old-time ornate manner. I faced him with a withering look. but. unmindful, he bowed, presenting me the cup, and interposing his bulky person between me and the deeply quaffing pirates. At the same time his voice reached me, pitched In a low and anxious key. “Fo’ de Lawd’s sake. Miss Jinny, spill it out! It am mighty powerful dope—it done fumented twice as long as befo’—it am boun’ to give dat trash de bUnd-staggahs sho’tly!” Instantly I understood, and a thrill of relief and of hope inexpressible shot through me. I put the cup to ray lips and after a brief parade of drinking passed it back to Cobkie, spilling the contents on the ground en route. Gradually the rough disjointed talk of the sailors began to languish. Covertly watching, I saw that Chris’ head had begun to droop. The hand that held tlie cup was lifted, stretched out in the direction of the enticing jar, then forgetting its errand fell heavily. After a few spasmodic twltchings of the eyelids and uneasy grunts, Chris slumbered. Captain Magnus was of tougher fiber. But lie, too, grew silent and there was a certain meal-sack limp-, ness about his attitude. His dulled eyes stared dreamily. All at once, with a jerk, he roused himself, turned over and administered to the sleeping Chris a prod with his large boot. “Hey, there, wake up! What right you,got to be asleep at the switch?” But Chris only breathed more heavily. Captain Magnus himself heaved a tremendous yawn, settled back in greater comfort against his sustaining tree and closed his eyes. I waited, counting the seconds by the beating of the blood in my ears. In the background Cookie hovered apprehensively. Plainly he would go on hovering unless loud snores from the pirates gave him assurance. For myself, I sat fingering my penknife, wondering whether I ought to rush over and plunge it into the sleepers’ throats. This would be heroic and practical, but unpleasant. If, on the other hand, I merely tried to free the prisoners and Captain Magnus woke, what then? The palm where they were tied was a dozen yards from me. much nearer to the guards, and within range of even their most languid glance. Beyond the prisoners was Miss Browne, glaring uncoraprehendingly over the edge of fier book. There was no help in Miss Browne. I left my seat and stole on feet which seemed to stir every leaf and twig to loud complaint toward the captive pair. Tense, motionless, with burning eyes, they waited. There was a movement from Captain Magnus; he yawned, turned and muttered. I stood stricken, my heart beating with HRKgSgi I Stood Stricken, My Heart Beating With Loud Thumps. loud thumps against my ribs. But the captain’s eyes remained closed. “Virginia—quick, Virginia!” Dugald Shaw was stretching out his bound hands to me, and I bad dropped on my knees before him and begun to cut at the knotted cords. They were tough strong cords, and I was hacking at them feverishly when something bounded across the clearing and flung itself upon me. Crusoe, of course!-— and wild with the jojr of reunion. I strangled a cry of dismay, and with one hand tried to thrust him off while I cut through thte rope with the other. “Down, Crusoe!" I kept desperately whispering. But Crusoe was unused to whispered orders. He kept bounding up on me, intent to fulfill an unachieved ambition of licking my ear. Cuthbert Vane tried, under his breath, to lure him away. But Crusoe’e emotions were all for me, and swiftly becoming uncontrollable they burst forth in a volley of shrill yelps. A loud cry answered them. It came from Captain Magnus, who had scrambled to his feet and was staggering across tlie clearing. One hand was groping at his belt—it was flourished in the air with the gleam of a knife in it —and staggering and shouting the captain came on. “Ah, you would, would you? I’ll teach you—but first I’ll settle him, the porridge-eatin’ Scotch swine—” The reeling figure with the knife was right above me. I sprang up, in my hand the, little, two-inch weapon

I which was all I had for my defense — and Dugald Shaw’s. There were loud i noises In my ears, the shouting of men, and a shrill continuous note which I have since realised came from the lungs of Miss Higglesby-Browne. Magnus made a lunge forward—the arm with the knife descended. I oaught it —wrenched at it frantically—striving blindly to wield my little penknife, whether or not with deadly intent I don’t know to this day. He turned on me savagely, and the penknife was whirled from my hand as he caught my wrist in a terrible clutch. AU I remember after that is the terrible steely grip of the captain’s arms and a face, flushed, wild-eyed, horrible, that was close to mine and inevitably coming closer, though I fought and tore at It —of hot feverish lips whose touch I knew would scorch me to the soul—and then I was suddenly free, and falling, falling, a long way> Ahrougb darkness. My first memory is of voices, and after that I was shot swiftly out of a tunnel from an Immense distance and opened my eyes upon the same faces which I had left at some Indefinite period In the past. There was Aunt Jane’s, very tearful, and Miss Higgles-by-Browne’s, very glum, and the Honorable Cuthbert’s, very anxious and a little dazed, and Cookie’s, very, very black. The face of Dugald Shaw I did not see, for the quite intelligible reason that I was lying with my head upon his shoulder. As soon as I realized this 1 sat up suddenly, while every one exclaimed at once, “There, she’s quite all right—see how her color is coming back!” The penknife that I had lost In my struggle with Captain Magnus had fallen at the Scotchman's Wrenching himself free of his all but severed bonds he had seized the knife, slashed through the rope that held him to the tree, and flung himself on Captain Magnus. It was a brief struggle—a fist neatly planted on the ruffian’s jaw had ended It, and the captain, half dazed from hls potations, went down limply. Throughout the fray Chris slumbered undisturbed, and he and the unconscious Magnus were now reposing side by side, until they should awake to find themselves neatly trussed up with Cookie’s clothes-lines. But my poor brave Crusoe dragged a broken leg. from a kick bestowed on him by Captain Magnus, at whom he had flown valiantly in my defense. So far so good; we bad signally defeated our two guards, and the camp was ours. But what about the pirates who were still in the cave and would shortly be returning from it? They were three armed and sturdy ruffians. It would mean a battle to the death. Our best hope would be to wait in ambush behind the trees of the clearing—I mean for Dugald Shaw and Cuthbert Vane to do it—and shoot down the unsuspecting pirates as they returned. This desperate plan, which so unpleasantly resembled murder, cast gloom on every brow. “It’s the women, lad," said the Scotchman in a low voice to Cuthbert. “It’s—lt’s Virginia." And Cuthbert heavily assented'. Seeing myself a» the motif of such slaughter shocked my mind suddenly back to clearness. “Oh,” I cried, “not that. Why not surprise them In the cave, and make them stay there? One man could guard the entrance easily—and afterward we cotfld build it up with logs or something.” Everybody stared. “A remarkably neat scheme," said Mr. Shaw, “but impossible of application, I’m afraid, because none of us know where to find the cave.” I shook ,my head. “I know!" There was a lengthy silence. People looked at one another, and their eyes said, “This has been too much for her!” “I know,” I impatiently repeated. “I can take you straight there. I found the tombstone before Mr. Tubbs did, and the cave, too. Come, let’s not waste time. We must hurry—-they’ll be getting back!" Amazement, still more than half Incredulous, surged round ine. Then Mr. Shaw said rapidly: “You're right Os course, if you have found the cave, the best thing we can do Is to keep them shut up in It But we must move fast—perhaps we’re too late already. If they have found the chest they may by now be starting for camp with the first load of doubloons." Again I shook my head. “They haven’t found the gold,” I assured him. The astonished faces grew more anxious. “It sho’ have told on ll’le Miss Jinny’s brain,” muttered Cookie to himself. “They haven’t found the gold,” I reiterated with emphasis, “because the gold is not in the cave. Don’t ask me how I know, because there isn’t time to tell you. There was no gold there but the two bags that the pirates brought back last night ■ The—the skeleton moved It all out:” “My Lawdl” groaned *Cookie,* staggering backward. “Virginia! I had no Idea you were superstitious!” quavered Aunt Jane. “I say, do take some sleeping tablets or something and quiet your nerves!” implored Cuthbert with the tenderest solicitude. In my exasperation I stamped my foot. “And while we are arguing here the pirates may be starting back to camp! And then we’ll have to kill them and i go home and give ourselves up to be ! hanged I Please, please,-come with me and let me show you that I know !** I lifted my eyes to the intent face of Dugald Shaw. “All right,” he said tersely. “I think you do know. How and what, we’ll a find out later.” Rapidly he made hls plan, got together the things needful for its execution, looked to the bonds of the still dazed and drowsy prisoners, posted Cookie tn their neighborhood with a pair of pistols, and commanded Aunt Jane to dry her tears and look after Miss Higglesby-Browne, who had dismayed every one by most inopportunely toppling over in a perlectly genuine swoon. Then the Scotchman, Cuthbert Vane

and I set off through the woods. The men were heavily armed, and I had recovered my own little revolver and restored it to my belt Mr. Shaw had seen to this, and had said to me, very quietly: “You know, Virginia, if things don’t 1 go our way, it may be necessary for you to use it—on yourself.” And I nodded assentlngly. We went in silence through the green hush of the woods, moving in single file. My place as guide was in We Went in Silence Through the Green Hush of the Woods. the van, but Mr. Shaw deposed me i from it and went ahead himself, K'hiie ' Cuthbert Vane brought up the- rear. No one spoke, even to whisper. I guided Dugald Shaw, when needful, by a light tough upon the arm. Our enterprise was one of utmost danger. If we met the pirates it was their lives or ours—and I reca 1 with incre- ! dulity my resolution to imbed five of my six bullets in a pirate before I turned the sixth upon myself. We passed the grave, and 1 saw that the vines had been torn aside again, and that the tombstone was gone. We came to tlie brink of the cliff, and I pointed silently downward along the ledge to the angle in which lay the I mouth of the cave. My breath came quickly, for at any instaut a bead might be thrust forth from the opening. Mr. Shaw and Cuthbert dropped down upon the ledge. Though under whispered orders to retreat I could not, but hung over the edge of the cliff, eager and breathless. Then with a bound the men were beside me. Mr. Shaw caught my hand, and we rushed together into the woods. A quake, a roar, a shower of flying rocks. It was over—the dynamite had done Its work, whether successfully or not remained to be seen. After a little the Scotchman ventured back. He returned to us where we waited in the woods—Cuthbert to mount guard over me—with a cleared face. “It’s all right," he said. "The entrance is completely blocked. I set the charge six feet Inside, but the roof is down clear to the month. Poor wretches —they have all come pouring out upon the sand —” All three of us went back to the edge of the cliff. Seventy feet below, on the narrow strip of sand before the sea-mouth of the cave, we saw the figures of four men, who ran wildly about and sought loi* a foothold on the sheer face of the cliff. As we stood watching them, w-lth, on my part, at least, unexpected qualms of pity and a cold Interior sensation very unlike triumph, they discovered us. Then for the first time, I suppose, they understood the nature of their disaster. We could not hear their cries, but we saw arms stretched out to us, fists frantically shaken, hands lifted in prayer. We saw Mr. Tubbs flop down upon his unaccustomed knees —it was all rather horrible. I drew back, shivering. “It won’t lie for long, of course,” I said uncertainly, “just till the steamer comes—and we’ll give them lots to eat —but I suppose they think—they will soon be just a lot more skeletons —” And here I was threatened with a moist anticlimax to my late Amazonian mood. Why should the frequent and natural phenomena of tears produce such panic in the male breast? “It's been too much for her!” exclaimed the once dour Scot in tones of anguish. “Hurry, lad —we must find her some water—" I interposed, winking', rapidly. “Just think of some way to calm those creatures, so that I shan’t see them in my dreams, begging and beseeching—” For I had not forgotten the Immensity of my debt to Tony. So a note was written on a leaf torn from a pocketbook and thrown over the cliff weighted with a stone. The captives swooped upon it Followed then a vivid pantomime by, Tony, expressive of eased if unrepentant minds, while Mr. Tubbs, by gestures, indicated that though sadly misunderstood, old H. H. was still our. friend and benefactor. It was an attentive grObp to which on our return to camp I related the circumstances which had made possible our late exploit of imprisoning the pirates in the cave. The tale of my achievements, though recounted with due modesty, seemed to put the finishing touch to the extinction of Violet, 1 for she wilted finally and forever, and was henceforth even bullied by Aunt Jane. The diary of Peter was produced, and passed about with awe from hand to hand. Yesterday’s discovery in the cave had rounded out the history of Peter to a melancholy completion. But though we knew the end we guessed in vain at the beginning, at Peter’s name, at that of the old grandfather whose thrifty piety had brought him to Havana and to the acquaintance of the dying mate of the Bonny Lass, at the whereabouts of the old New England farm which had .been mortgaged to buy We Island

'| Queen, at the Identity of He e >, who ; waited still, perhaps, for tin lover ■ who never would return. But even our regrets for Pe or did not chill the exultation with v 1 ch we ! thought of the treasure-chest alting I; there under the sand in the <s )ln of the Island Queen. All afternoon we talked of it TfinL for the present, was all we to rid do. | There were the two prisoners I camp I to be guarded—and they bad (eseutly awakened and made rema,-I b of a strongly personal and unp <-asant trend on discovering their striation. There was Crusoe Invalided, an i need- * ing petting, and getting it from >verybody on the score of bis romant ? past as Benjy as well as of his pre* >t virtues. The broken leg had been leverly set by Dugald—somehow’ In t e late upheaval Miss and Mister had d opped quite out of our vocabulariet —with Cuthbert as surgeon's assistant and me holding the chloroform to )he patient’s nose. There was the 'atigue and reaction from excitement which everybody felt, and Peter's diary to be read, and golden dreums to be Indulged. And there was the delicate question to be discussed, of how the treasure should be divided. “Why, It all belongs to Virginia, of course,” said Cuthbert, open! ig hls eyes at the thought of any other view being taken but tills obvious on». “Nonsense!“ I hastily inte posed. “My finding the diary was just an accident ; I’ll take a share of it —no more.” Here Miss Browne munnuret something half Inaudible about “ —c -pfined to members of the expedition- but subsided for lack of encourage) ent. “I suggest,” said Dugald, “th t, our numbers having most fortunat ly diminished and there being, on th< basis of Peter’s calculations, enough to enrich us ail, we should shar • and share alike.” And this propose I was received with acclamations, as vas a second from the same source, devoting a certain percentage of each share to Cookie, to whom the news of his good fortune was to come later as a great surprise. , Shortly before sundown Ct thbert and Cookie were dispatched by 1 *ugald Shaw to the cliff above the cav j with supplies for the Inhumed rirates. These were let down by rope, k note was brought up on the rope, signed by Mr. Tubbs, and containing strmgely jumbled exhortations, prayer. l and threats. A second descent of th.» rope elicited another missive, neatty folded and addressed in the same hi nd to Miss Jane Hardipg. Cuthbert gave this privately to tne, but its contents must forever be unknown, for it went, unread, into Cookie’s fire. 1 bad no mind to find Aunt Jane, with her umbrella as a parachute, vanishing over the cliffs to seek the arms of a repentant Tubbs. The fly in the ointment of our satisfaction, and the one remaining obstacle to our possession of the treasure, was the presence of the two pirates in our midst. They were not nice pli rates. They were quite the least choice of the collection. Chris when he was not swearing, wept r olstly, and so touched the heart oi Aunt Jane that we lived In fear, of 1 rr letting him go if she got the op ortunIty , What to do with the plrater ( ontlni ued for a day and a night a tnotty problem. It wag Cuthbert Vane who solved It, and with the simplicity of g< ulus. “Why not send ’em down t > their chums the way we do the ea s?” he asked. | Dire outcries greeted tha d "Islon. I Aunt Jane wept, and Chris wept. Oaths flowed from Captain Magnus In a turgid stream. Neverthele; s the twain were led away, firmly bound, and guarded by Dugald, Cuthlx rt and the negro. And the remarkajs o program proposed by Cuthbert Va te was triumphantly carried out. Six prisoners now occupied the old cave of the buccaneers. With the camp freed from the pres- -•-- • ■ " , ence of the pirates all need of watch* I fulness was over. The prisoners la the cave were provided with no implements but spades, whereas dynamite and crowbars would be nec ssary to force away through the debris which choked the mouth of the tunnel. A looking over of the ground <t the 9 daily feeding time would be enough. Tomorrow’s sun would set* our hopes crowned and all our toll r warded by the recovery of th* » r 'asur« from the Island Queen, (TO BE CONTINUED) - O , Judged Him by Hls Hair At the beginning of the seco d /semester of school, a boy enter* 1 tie first grade wearing curls. Tht nocn at table my young hopeful in tore registering disgust said:. “Tha'' new boy is snre some sissy." Up< n ni y asking him how he knew, he rtyflled« “I know because his hair says no."— Chicago Tribune. Why Pay Mor i? You will be pleased arid bene- , fitted by those comfort glasses fitted for you up at the F. G. FITCH Optical Office We grind our own lensei at Pre-War Prices Why Pay More? Room 3—Widaman Office iildg. Warsaw, Indiana