Bemidji Daily Pioneer Newspaper, December 11, 1915, Page 3

Wy SATURDAY, DECEMBER. 11, 1016, Abou-t The City } G. W. Cochran left Thursday for Minneapolis on business. Dr. J. Warninger left this morning for Cass Lake on business. Read ““Neal of the Navy” in to- night’s issue.—Adv. T daizil H. H. Trusty of Port Hope is in the city today on business. Harry Wolfe of St. Paul is visiting friends in Bemidji this week. Read- “Neal of the Navy” in to- night's issue.—Adv. da1211 Miss Nellie Wilson has enrolled in the Bemidji Business college. E. J. Boobar of Nary was a busi- ness visitor in the city Friday. Free show all afternoon at the Grand, Monday.—Adv. di211 Mrs. M. G. Burnham of Seribmer was shopping in Bémidji Friday. A. P. White has returned from a business trip to the Twin Cities. W. N. Gerlinger and family of Spur are in Bemidji today shopping. Free show all afternoon at the Grand, Monday.—Adv. da1211 Attorney Bunn T. Wilson of Black- duck was a caller in Bemidji yester- day. Mrs. Mark L. Burns of Cass Lake visited friends in Bemidji yester- day. : 0ld rags wanted at Pioneer office. Must be clean; 5c¢ per 1b.—Adv. tf Mr. and Mrs. William Blakesley of Farley are in Bemidji today shop- ping. C. D. Conkey of Carlton, Minn., is a week-end guest at the O. L. Dent home. Smart-Getchell Ice Co. will de- liver you a big load of ice for $1.00. Tel. 12.—Adv. tf Mrs. Martha Leonard of Tenstrike was a business visitor in Bemidji Friday. Mr. and Mrs. V. M. Owens of Hines were in Bemidji Friday business. on “‘Neal of the Navy,” the great Am- erican serial, starts in this issue of the Pioneer.—Adv. da1211 D. D. Miller from a business trip to Gemmell and Mizpah. returned Friday Northome, Big shipment of dry goods direct from factory arrived yesterday at Schroeder’s.—Adv. 3d1211 Miss Tressia Whipple of Pillager, Minn,, is visiting Mrs. Leander . Bloomquist at Nymore. Mr. and Mrs. George CCochran, Jr., of Bena are week-end guests at the M. F. Cunningham home. “Neal of the Navy,” the great Am- erican serial, starts in this issue of the Pioneer.—Adv. da1211 Among the visitors in Bemidji yesterday were 0. J. Linden of Pine River and O. W. Hubin of Currie. Mrs. Nels L. Bye and daughter, Miss Pernella Goldberg, of Solway were shopping in the city yesterday. Have your furniture repaired at the Bargain Store. First-class work at reasonable prices.—Adv. tf Mesdames John Guthrie, George Treser and Frank Latimer of Turtle River are in the city today shop- ping. Mrs. Leander Bloomquist of Ny- more, who visited for several days at Pilfager, Minn., has returned to her home. For ice by the load, telephone Smart-Getchell Ice Co. Per load $1.00. Telephone 12.—Adv. i Miss Elsie Maag of Puposky was in Bemidji Friday enroute to Hines where she will visit relatives for two ‘weeks. Mr. and Mrs. Fellows and son, Roland, of Tenstrike autoed to Be- midji Friday and were the guests of friends. Ice delivered to any part of the city for $1.00 per load. Smart-Getchell Ice Co. Mrs. Z. Willing of Liberty, Sask., Laughter Aids Digestion. Laughter is one ‘of the most healthful exertions; it is of great help to digestion. A still more ef- fective help is a dose of Chamberlain’s Tablets. If you should be troubled with- indigestion give them a trial. They only cost a quarter. For sale by all dealers.—Adv. Telephone 12.—Adv. tf) lwns in Bemidji Friday enroute-to Kel- liher where she will visit relatives for a short time. Attorney A. A. Andrews, who has been at Grand Rapids the past few days on business, is expected to re- turn to Bemidji today. Remember that 2 photographs make 12 Christmas presents. Hak- kerup's studio. Phone 239.—Adv. tf NEAL of éhe N, Mr. and. Mrs. Herbert Rasmussen left Thursday for Douglas, Wis., where they will spend the Christmas holidays with relatives. " The Smart-Getchell Ice Co. is de- livering ice to any part of the: city for $1.00 per.load. Tel 12.—Adv. tf Mrs, William Chichester enter- tained the Entre Nous’ club at the G. W. Cochran home, 500 Minnesota 08y William Hamilton Osborne, AUTHOR OF “RED MOUSE." “RUNNING FIGHT," “CATSPAW,""BLUE BUCKLE,” ETC. NOVELIZED FROM THE PHOTO PLAY OF THE SAME NAME PROD/QCCD BY PATHE EXCHANGE. INC. COPRYRICHT, /9, FIRST INSTALLMENT PROLOGUE—THE SURVIVORS CHAPTER I The Red Death, Capt. John Hardin of the. Princess regarded the fastreceding coast line with unusual alarm. He shouted to his mate. “Welcher,” he cried, pointing aft, “look at that. I've never seen old Pe- lee act that way before.” Welcher, the mate, a surly, sallow- faced, ill-conditioned fellow in un- kempt uniform, followed with his eyes the captain’s glance. D “Gee whiz,” he said, “me neither.” “Ben,” exclaimed the captain, “she’s spitting fire. By Godfrey, that means death—death, I tell you, death.” This was back in 1902. The Prin- cess, Captain Hardin’s boat, was a tramp steamer bound to New York from the city of St. Pierre, in the Island of Martinique, with a cargo of cocoa, coffee, sugar cane and cotton, and had been under way probably an hour, “You're right, captain,” he returned. “Pelee means business this trip. Death is right.” A feminine figure emerged from the shadow of the afterhouse and rushed forward toward the bridge. Behind her, following in her wake, raced two sturdy youngsters. One of these youngsters darted past her, swarmed upon the bridge and confronted the captain and his mate. He was Captain Hardin’s boy, Neal —the only child. The other boy was the mate's son, young Joey Welcher, sallow-faced and disagreeable like his father. With the roar of a thousand thun- ders Pelee bellowed forth “What are we going to do, Jack?” cried the captain’s young wife; “what are we going to do?” “Do?” returned the mate, before-the captain could reply. “Put on more steam, that’s what we'll do. We're well out of that hell-hole yonder. An hour and we'd have been in the thick of it. We're well out of it, I tell you.” Captain Hardin applied his eye to his telescope once more. The boy upon his shoulder followed suit. “Welcher,” said the captain bravely, we've got to go back.” CHAPTER Il, The Lost Isle. On the same day—the day of the red death at Martinigue—and but two short hours before the pilot put the helm of the tramp steamer Princess hard aport, three men sat on the ver- anda of a low-roofed, white-walled bungalow in St. Pierre. One of these men was Ilington, a young American. He passed around a box of fragrant Martinique cheroots, He folded up some half-dozen slips of paper he had been examining and re- turned them to another individual who faced him from across the table. “Senor Hernandez,” exclaimied the young American, “for a week at least —half a hundred times—I have told you your credentials were satisfactory to me.” Hernandez nodded sgravely. He thrust the papers back into a pocket and tapped them significantly. “None could be better,” he ex- claimed grandiloquently, “I am Her- nandez—that is all sufficient.” Suddenly the American turned and faced the third member of the coterie, “And what,” he exclmmed “what of Ponto here?” This third individual was the strangest creatyre of them all. He was a Mexican; dark, very dark; low- browed; low-statured—and—fat. Hernandez nodded significantly. “Ponto, senor,” he returned, “is as good as gold. He, too, is brave.” “Will he do as I tell him?” queried the American. Hernandez bowed. senor, and I tell him. He will obey.” The American turned his back for a moment and Hernandez and Ponto exchanged significant glances. Ilington turned back to them. “It is agreed,” he said, “I will take you on. To have brave men one must take a chance.” Ilington crossed the veranda and entered the living room, from there disappearing through another door. In a moment he was back, apparently empty handed. Once more he seated himself and then drew from the hip pocket of his trousers a thin oilskin packet sealed with sealing wax. He laid it on the table before him. “Gentlemen,” he said, “I am the owner of the lost isle of Cinnabar. My forefathers held the grant direct from Spain. The lost isle of Cinna- bar is a valuable isle. Tradition has it that upon it is located a quicksilver mine—an ancient mine but little worked. My mission is to seek that island, to find it and to claim it for my own.” “Where is this lost island?” queried the Portuguese. - Ilington nodded. “The secret,” he returned, “lies within this packet.” “You tell me, | 5, BY WILLIAII HALILTON OSBORNE In a flash Ponto’s hand darted like @ black snake across the table to clutch the packet in its grasp. The American, for all his hugeness, was quite as agile as the fat Ponto. He snatched the packet away just as Pon- to’s fingers touched it. ¢ Ponto’s eyes reddened; his face flushed suddenly. He fingered the hilt: of his knife and glanced toward Her- nandez. “I will be careful to take small chance with you, friend Ponto,” said llington. He waved the packet to- ward Hernandez. “All in good time, senor,” he said. “The important question,” went on Ilington, “is this: Who is in posses- ‘sion of the lost isle of Cinna- bar? It belongs to me. I have the, paper title—at any rate I can obtain it, but whom must we eject when we arrive?” “Leave that to me,” said Hernan- dez. “We shall wipe them off the face of the earth—" : A screen door swung open and a‘ native woman gaudily arrayed in green and yellow stripes, her head bound around with a strip of orange- colored linen, slipped through the door leading with her a tiny girl—a child toree or four years old. The child saw Ilington and ran tumultuously toward him, clasping his huge leg with her arms. % “My daughter, gentlemen,” said I+ ington. “She is all I have. Her moth- er died when she was born and when 1 die she will be the heiress to the lost isle of Cinnabar—perhaps the princess of a principality, who knows.” Manuella, her native nurse, carried her out into the narrow white and winding street, and together they half ran, half toddled down the hill. Ilington resumed his own chair and once more exhibited the oilskin pack- et. “The contents of this packet—pos- sibly—will indicate the whereabouts of th&Iost islé of Cinnabar,” he said. . “Suppose we take a chance.” “Break the ‘seal, senor,” said Her- nandez. Ilington started to obey—but some- thing happened. With the suddenness of a jaguar fleeing from the hunters, a man—half Neal Hardin and the Heiress of the Lost Island. naked—bounded upon the veranda. “For the love of God,” he said, in broken French, “flee for your liveu. Peleo has broken loose.” Ilington, with the oilskin packet, still in hand, sprang to the edge of the veranda and from there into the street. He gave one look and then fell back. “By George, he’s right,” he shouted. “Look—Ilook.” Anxiously he turned his gaze down the-hill. Then with a bound he was off. In three minutes he was back clutching his little daughter, Annette, Manuella after him. Shrieks - from a thousand throats rent the air without. Ilington glanced into the street. His face went white. Ashes, red-hot pieces of molten lava were dropping in a shower. Ilington, who had _been holding Annette, surrendered her in an instant to Manuella. He darted into an inner room and opened the safe. From this safe he took a canvas bag that jingled with the gold pieces it contained: He thrust this bag into one hip pocket of hig trousers, having already secreted the oilskin packet in the other. “Come on,” he shouted to the Sroup behind him. “It's death to stay here. Come on down the hill.” CHAPTER Il Terror-Driven. All down that long steep hill—that Bwarming street filled with its rushing, frantic mob—Ilington t8ught his way With ‘his back and. brawny shoulders. Once, twice, he felt & stealthy hand at his hip pockets. ' Each time he turned swiftly to find Ponto and Her- nandez_close .| warning he slipped ‘aside ‘into a blina to his breast and dragging the frenzied his_keels. Without - . avenue, Frld;ay ‘afternoon. Day and evening sessions. = Mid-win- ter term begins January 4, 1916.— Ady. 23d1231 | George Schneider of Bena brought' to St. Anthony’s yesterday, suffering from an injured leg as a result of a tree falling.on it. alley, and let the crowd slide by like & huge many-colored avalanche. When he joined the crowd again, Hernandes. and his Aztec ally were ahead of him and not behind. . “To the sea—to the sea”—the voice of the multitude raiseditself in_ agony. There was- but one-cry—“to the sea— let me past—make room for me—to the sea—to the sea.” . At a crazy' little wharf Ilington twitched himself and Manuella and the child deftly to one side and let the crowd ‘plunge on. He scanned the surface of the bay, the fringe of shore. The bay was dot- ted with small boats, laden' to the ‘gun- wales. The water was alive with swimmers. Ilington turned suddenly—at his side stood Hernandez. Ilington shook his head. 2 .“There’s not a chance,” he said. “Senor. Ilington,” said Hernandez, “you are indeed fortunate to have tied Yourself to me. Always I have some- thing up my sleeve.” He jerked his head. “Follow me,” he added. Ilington, wondering, followed, drag- ging Manuella with him. Swiftly the group moved along,the water front—they fought their way inch by inch. Suddenly Hernandez - darted out upon another wharf. “Stand in a circle,” he commanded, “and when I say the word—quick ac- tion, senor.” Then Hernandez stooped quickly and jerked back a trap door that had been fitted into the planking. “Quick,” he whispered, “drop.” He seized Manuella and dropped her through the opening. She screamed— this scream rose to a shriek when she struck the water. But her alarm was unwarranted. There was no danger— she stood waistdeep in ‘water. Pouto followed with a leap—hé knew his ground. Ilington .lowered himself warily, to save .\nnette from injury; cluag for one instant to the edge ot the opening with one brawny hand, and then dropped straight as a plummet. Hernandez followed suit, closing the trap door behind him. The closing of this door left them almost in total darkness. - “Senor,” whispered Hernandez, “I have a boat. One moment, please.” He groped about and caught a rope tied to a pile. He drew it in, hand over hand. “In,” said Hernandez—*“everybody In.” ‘The group obeyed. The boat was small. “Senor,” said Hernandez, “you are large—you are tall. See yonder ray of light—it - is--an: openingp-iust—wider| enough to~admit of this small craft. Leap out, senor—draw us thither—it 18 the sole way to the sea.” llington dragged the boat through the narrow opening and swung back into his place. “I'll row,” he said. Suddenly Hernandez pointed toward the north. “Look, senor,” he ex- claimed, “succor—yonder {s salva- tion.” Ilington followed his glance. face lighted. “Salvation is right,” he returned in tones of relief, “a steamer—and, what’s more, she flies the American flag. Good luck.” Under the command of her captain, Hardin, the Princess had steamed back into the rain of living fire to rescue whom she might. On the forward deck of the steamer stood Captain Hardin—and beside him his small son—to welcome refu- gees. And there were many refugees to welcome. Captain Hardin soon saw he must discriminate. Finally he shook his head. “Ben,” he told his mate, “we'’re filling up. Pick your crowd from now on—only the helpless—children, women, old men. Reject all others.” Welcher, with two of the crew be- hind him—both scared intoa frenzy— all armed with capstan bars—raised aloft his bludgeon. “No more—no more!” he cried. “I'll brain the first man who tries to get aboard.” Suddenly above ¢he din,‘a powerful voice was heard. “Ahoy, there, Princess,” cried this voice. - Welcher followed the sound. It came from the lungs of a powerfully built man rowing a leaky boat. “Make way there,” bellowed the oarsman, - Ilingtom; “one moment, Princess. Where’s the captain?” Ilington seized his little daughter Annette-and uncovered her head. “Never mind me,” he said. “I want refuge for this woman and the child.” Waelcher was adamant. “Not an- other ounce of human flesh aboard this boat,” he said. “There was a tug upon his’arm. He turned. ' Little Neal Hardin, the cap- tain’s son, stood at attention and touched his cap. He pointed with one hand toward little Annette Ilington. “Please, Mr. Welcher,” he pleaded, “let her come aboard. She don’t weigh an ounce.” The mate turned savagely upon the boy. “You mind your own business, brat,” he cried. The boy stared at him a moment, then saluted and started off. “Yes, sir,” he returned, “that’s what I'm going to do.” He darted off on the run, and sought his father, Captain Hardin. “There’s just one ounce—a little bit of an ounce—wants to come aboard, captain—pop,” he pleaded; “ a tween- ty-weenty little ounce. Won’t you let it come?” He dragged the captain forward The captain; laughlng good—nunredly. followed him. . “ Moanwhile Ilington, with . sure dis | crimination, placed the child in Man- uella’s arms once morg, and forced the His easy when you have taken a courge in Mankato Commercial College. Send Attend Bemidji Business ~ College. | for catalogue.—Ady. " To get 'n"‘good' business position is Dr. and’ Mrs. C. R. Sanborn' and .[Judge C. W. Stanton have moved in- to their new home, 717 Lake Boule- . was |vard, which has recently been com- hospital | pleted. [N. E. Tuller and have delivery made Place your Ponto’s Eyes Reddened; His Face Flushed ' Suddenly. ey Hilt of His Knife and Glanced Toward Hernandez. native woman out upon the ladder. “Courage, Manuella,” he kept whis- Dering; ‘“courage, Annette. They've got to help you out.” Captain Hardin leaned over the side. “Let the woman and child come | aboard,” he shouted; “back there, men back. Welcher, let them come aboard.” “Ah-h-h,” cried Ilington in a tone of relief. With a final almost super- human effort he lifted Manuella to the rail of the Princess, safely aboard. He ‘was about to pass the child to her, but young Neal Hardin was holding out his arms: “I'm a good catch,” said young Neal; “put it there.” Ilington glanced for one instant into the frank face of Neal Hardin and the captain of the ship. He drew a sigh of relief. He nodded swiftly. “Whatever happens, thank God she is in good hands,” he said. Captain Hardin put his lips to his megaphone. “Put her about there,” he shouted out; “full steam ahead.” Even as he said it there was a fresh shower of huge red cinders; some ash —some in molten state. There was an .added cry of agony from shore and sea. Even the refugees aboard the ship cowered under. the hail of fire in terror. Suddenly at the captain’s side Manuella, the native woman, uttered @ gasp. A red-hot cinder of unusual size had smitten her upon the temple as she crouched low over little Annette Ilington. .. Clutching the captain by the arm she fell prone upon the deck. Young Neal Hardin sprang forward and caught the child before she fell. Manuella’s breath came fast—the thinnest portion of her skull had been plerced by the jagged edges of the cinder.. Wild-eyed and frantie, but well realizing that she was upon the point of death, she caught young Neal by the blouse. “I die—you take baby—some day papa come—very-—rich—" She said no more. The captain bent over her, rose-and glanced at Welch- er significantly. Then he turned to his young son Nedl. “Take the little girl into our cabin, Neal,” he said. “Give her to your mother.” Neal clutched the warm bundle in his arms and staggered with it aft. As Mrs. Hardin unwound the shawl something dropped clinking to the cabin floor. Neal seized it and handed it to his mother. “It’s a bag of gold,” he said. No sooner had he said it than an- other object fluttered to the floor— an oilsilk packet sealed with sealing ‘wax. Mrs. Hardin placed the two upon a small stand set-into the side wall of the cabin. She continued to unwind the shawl. Again they started. Pinned to the child's dress was a crumpled piece of paper, and upon the piece of paper was a hastily penciled scrawl Mrs. Hardin read it. This is what it said: “I am Annette Ilington, hexress of the lost isleof Cinnabar. Iwill be very rich some day. Save my clothes and the oilskin packet until my father comes for ‘me or until I am eighteen. 1 must look out for a man with a saber cut ‘upon his face. For God's sake keep me safe.” CHAPTER IV. After a Night of Fear. The three men—Ilington and his two companions—sat dejected in their badly leaking boat and watched Cap- tain Hardin’s vessel fade away into the distance. Hernandez watched her keenly as she disappeared. . Into the innermost recesses of his mind he tucked away the fact that she was the _steamer Princess of New York. Some day that knowledge would be of use-| to him. Hot ashes brushed against Ilington’s cheek; some rested on his shoulders. He shook himself like some huge mastiff. He seized the pars, “Come,” he sald, “we’ve got to get out’ of this—and right away. This boat is filling fast.” “Go to it, “Row.” It was not a request; it was a com- mand. It was a strange thing that as long as Ilington-had borne the child in hig’ arms, Ilington had been the lead- er of the three. Ngw his independence seemed to leave him. For hours he rowed—he forgot he ‘was & human being. His oars rose and senor,” said Hernandez. “fell with~ the regularity of mncl;gno- from- the car. Jackpine, $3.00; tam-| arack, $3.76; birch, $4.00 per cord, direct from car.—Adv. 641217 Mrs. J. P. Lahr left Thursday eve- ning for St. Cloud; being:called there by the serious illness of her mother. Mrs. Lahr will' remain ‘in St. Cloud for several weeks. He Fingered the like movement. Suddenly Hernandez spoke. : “Careful, senor,” “Behold the surf.” He was quite right. They were crossing some bar well off the shore. Before they knew it they were in the midst of a tumult of wind-driven angry waves Ponto shrieked. A wave tow- ered high above them and fell with thunderous thud upon the- bottom of their boat. She went under. “Come on,” cried Ilington; “a hand on each of my shoulders—I'll take you safe ashore.” Half an hour later the three men staggered out of the battered surf and sank down exhausted upon a strip of beach. Dawn broke with Ilington still sleep- ing heavily. Ponto was the first to wake. He shook Hernandez, placing his finger on his lips. Hernandez sprang up with ‘the agility of a pan- ther: He collected his faculties in an instant. He placed his hand upon the shoulder of the sleeping man and shook him. “Wake, senor,” he commanded; “it is day.” “Senor,”” went ‘on Hérnandez, “let us resume our conversation—our talk of yesterday. Where is this: lost island?” He thrust his face into the face of Ilington. “And where,” he de- manded, “is theoil-silk packet?” “Where, also,” added Ponto, “is the bag of gold?” Ilington = smiled. “So you have searched me, have you?” he returned. “Well, you're welcome, gentlemen, to anything you find.” He rose to his feet. “Come on,” he commanded, “we’re marooned. I'm hungry. Let us see what we can find.” Hernandez caught him by the arm. “Where is the packet?” he demanded. “And where the gold?” persisted Ponto. Ilington smiled. “Both traveling north,” he answered, “with Annette Il- ington. They are confided to her care.” “And why?” asked Hernandez. Ilington shrugged his shoulders. “I thought you and I and Ponto here were booked for death, that's why. ‘Who knows—we may still be booked for death.” Hernandez glanced significantly at Ponto. “Some of us may,” he said. “Come on,” said Ilington, “there are mussels on those rocks yonder. Fols low me.” He strode into the water and waded toward a patch of rocky reef beyond. Ponto seized a bit of jagged wood that lay upon the beach. He and Her nandez waded after Ilington. Once on the rocks Ilington stooped -and tore huge shell fish from their moorings with his naked hands. As he did so Ponto in a sudden frenzy lifted “high the billet in his hand and brought it with a crashing blow down upon ths head of Ilington, Hington fell like a log.. Hernandez sprang at Ponto and shook him as a terrier shakes a rat. “You fool,”. he cried, “what do you gain by this?” “Wait,” exclaimed Ponto, clawing Dlington with his clutching talons; “let us search him thoroughly.” The search yielded nothing to them. “Fool,” repeated Hernandez, “you have done a useless thing. There’s al- ways time I tell you.” Ponto shook his head. “Senor,” he said, “this man stood between us and the packet. There is no one now to keep us from his child.” Hernandez slowly nodded. “True,” he returned, “perhaps you are right. He was a menace—now he is dead. He Is removed. Let us leave him to the mercy of the sea.. Come on.” “To the mercy of the sea,” these adventurers had said, and the sea was strangely merciful. With the tender- ness of a mother it laved the limbs of the supine victim—it washed his wound—it laved his brow. It did more—it brought him back to life. Uttering an inarticulate cry, the man rose, staggering to his feet. He put his hand to the back of his heagd. It came away covered with blood. He stared at his ruddy fingers vacantly. “Red—red—" he babbled, "He stared about him fn bewilder- ment. Babbling and cackling he'rose: once more to his feet. Some instinct led him toward the ‘shore. He waded across the narrow strip of water, breast high, toward ‘the ‘narrow 0f beach" beyond, he commanded. did farm near the sillage of Nary,: was in the city Friday attending the morning session of ) Minnesota Development association. order ‘for wood with| Room and board by day or week There is no royal road to succes: sleep—just once—tonight.” grinned. can't m was to try a hundred years.” eyes upon him more—never feel the clasp of his hand, nor hig kiss upon her lips, nor his strong arms about her =never in this;world again. : Separato 1t desired.. hot' water heat. Julia' Titus, and Minn. Phone 812.—Ady. H. R. Gillette, who owns a splen-' the Northern He reached the beach and darted eigzag hither' and thither, always babbling, always® cackling. There' was reason for this. Some- Where in his skull there was a dent— & deep depression—made by the billet of wood that had struck him down. Ever and anon as he went he stroked drew the hand awa‘y, covered with blood “Red—red—" he babbled and went CHAPTER V. A Night With Flame. Young Neal Hardin was proud of his father’s boat, the Princess. He never ceased admiring her. There was no part of her he didn’t love. He was well assured that she must hold the same fascination for other people as she did for him. He conciuded that little Annette Ilington would fall des- perately in love with his huge boat and he escorted that young lady to all * parts of the vessel—in fact, he walked her: little legs off. They explored the lifeboats, the for- ward quarters of the crew; they vis- ited the pilot; they climbed the bridge. Finally, they visited the hold. It was well they did. Something had happened—and had happened on the day before while the Princess lay off Martinique. Cinders had fallen by the hundreds—a condi- tion of affairs that the captain and his crew had well prepared for. It was impossible to be everywhere at once and a cinder—a live, red messenger of death—had taken advantage of this condition of affairs, had wormed its way unnoticed into the cotton cargo, and like a red-hot cancer had eaten in- to it with flame. ‘With just the slightest trace of ex- citement Neal drew the little girl to the deck and with her at his side sought and found his father and whis- pered to him. The captain stiffened as with shock; his frce turned pale. He held up a hand and three members of the crew rushed to him. He gave hasty, whis- pered orders. In ten minutes the fire hose was laid out—men were working at the pumps. But in ten minutes something else had happened—the hold was filled with smoke. Huge tongues of flame were leaping heavenward, and in that same ten minutes panic took command— pandemonium reigned. “Abandon ship,” Hardin cried. hands to the boats! dren first.” Two days later a boatload of half- starved refugees parched with thirst, chilled by the cold night and baked by the heat of day, were sighted by a cruiser of the navy. Half an hour aft- erwards its exhausted passengers clambered wearily but gratefully up the cruiser’s side. The last of the refugees to leave the lifeboat and last of all save the life- boat’s crew to reach the cruiser’s deck was young Neal Hardin. Clutched in his arms was the recumbent sleeping figure of little Annette Ilington. Mrs. Hardin was offered the com- mander’s cabin. She accepted with gratitude. She tucked Annette Ilington and Joe§ Welcher into their berths, but when she came to look for Neal, her young son, she found him missing. She searched for him. A ‘seaman touched her on the arm. “You’ll find him there, ma’am,” the sailor. He pointed toward a group in a cor- ner of the sleeping deck. The crew “All ‘Women and chil- said Ponto in a Sudden.Frenzy Lifted High . the Blllet in His Hands and Brought It Down, were swinging hammocks ready for the night. Mrs. Hardin listened. She heard the clear tones of her young son-Neal. She hastened to the group and caught her offspring by the hand. “Mom,” he " pleaded, “don’t.” He pointed toward a hammock high above bis head. “That’s where I'm going to A seaman touched his cap ‘and “He’s a sailor from the up, ma’am,” he said. “You him anything else if you ground All through that long night a woman lay, wide-eyed, with dumb agony with- in her heart. She didn’t know—she couldn’t know—that Capt. John Har- din was exploring the depths unknown with a knife sunk between his shoul- ‘| der blades by his mate, Welcher. she knew that she would never lay (X0 BR CONTINUED)) But