Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, November 19, 1904, Page 2

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FOR S CURE CONSUMPTION Postmaster Furnishes an Address. “Some time ago,” said a special pen- sion examiner yesterday, “I had an in- quiry from the postoffice department concerning a pensioner who lived somewhere in Hart county, and wrote several of the postmasters to ascer- tain his address. This is the reply I received from one of them: “Mr. A. Barnes does not git his mail at this office. I don’t know his postoffice. He is dead. I believe his postoffice is Sulphur Lick.’ ”—Louis- ville Herald. Mother Cray’s Sweet Powders for Childrens Successfully used by Mother Gray, nurse in the Children’s Home in New York, cure Constipation, Feverishness, Bad Stomach, Teething Disorders, move and regulate the Bowels and Destroy Worms. Over 30,000 tes- timonials. At all Druggists, 25c. Sample FREE. Address A. S.Olmsted, LeRoy,N.¥. “Why does he call his daschund ‘Col- lar Button?” “Because it’s so easy for it to get under the bureau.”—Cleveland Plain Dealer. Kabo Corsets Get Grand Prize. St. Louis, Oct. 16—It has been an- nounced that Kabo Corsets, made by the Kabo Corset Co., Chicago, have been given the Grand Prize and high- est award by the board of judges at the Louisiana Purchase Exposition. No wonder an actress is stuck up when her name appears on so many billboards. 4 A ryt THE FISH IIE SIAAIAIG CHAPTER XV.—(Continued). Suddenly he remembered the cup- board. He felt his way to it, seized the handle, turned it, and pulled and pushed with all his might. Upon one of these desperate pushes there fol- lowed a loud click, and instantly the door and cupboard and all began to move backwards as if revolving on a hinge, so that through the darkness he could see Ruffidge’s parlor imme- diately in front of him, with a fire smoldering in the grate. But as the cupboard thus moved back an opening in the floor yawned in its wake, and before he could stop himself he tumbled down a flight of stairs and rolled to a stone floor at the bottom. As he did so he heard a sec- ond click, and guessed that the cup- board had swung back to its original position. 5 pai Set CHAPTER XVI. Luckily the flight of steps was very short, and Phil picked himself up lit- tle the worse for his fall. Just at first he was a bit dazed, and could only lean against the steps and peer into the darkness. and the tunnels of the old quarry, and, timid as he was in many ways, he had no fear of the darkness; indeed, in what seemed to ordinary folks Egyp- tian gloom he could see quite dis- tinctly. Hence he soon began to realize his | position. He was in a large vault or } cellar which, from the roughness of the walls, floor and roof, appeared to have been dug out of the soft sand- stone. Where he stood his head just touched the roof, but when he moved a few paces backwards he found that he was obliged to stoop. His first idea was to get out as he had got in, but he could find no trace of the opening and soon abandoned the search for it. He thought the place was empty, but at one end—the part corresponding and underneath the back of the cottages—he found large stacks of barrels and boxes reaching from the floor almost to the roof. At the other end the floor seemed to slope as well as‘the roof, and here he was brought up abruptly by what felt like stout wooden doors. As he stood by these he could feel the wind blow in keen and salt from the outside, and could hear the beat and splash of the waves as though they were only a few feet away. He tried to find some way of opening the doors, but he could not even discover how they were fastened, and they were evidehtly far too strong for him to force. While he was still wasting his strength on the attempt a new ‘cause of alarm beset him. Above the roll and roar of the breakers on the shin- gle he heard distinctly the creaking of oars, and, a moment later, the grating of a boat beached on the shore and hauled up quickly. Then followed the sound of many voices talking, not loudly, but with much earnestness, and footsteps coming up close to the doors. At this, as may easily be imagined, Phil. was in a sad state. He had no doubt that in some way or other Wea- sel John had tracked him, and at the thought of what he would do in his fury the boy’s heart was as water. Rays of light came dancing under the door, and this, though at first it add- ed to his terror, was, as it turned out, his salvation. For, as he cast a swift glance round, he saw, close against the wall on his left hand, something that looked like a boat. He ran to it and found that such, indeed, it was; a small skiff with a loose piece of sacking over the bows. He had just time to snuggle down under this and pull it round him. As he drew it over his face he heard the doors open, and through his covering became conscious that the vault was lit up, while the tramp of feet and a confusion of tongues told him that at least a dozen men must be within it. CHAPTER XVII. By the time Phil had recovered his presence of mind sufficiently to make an attempt at finding out what this mysterious assembly might mean, some kind of debate was evidently be- ing carried on. He heard several voices, but they were all strange to him. The imminence of the danger seemed to have a bracing effect upon him, so that he followed the discus- sion with a quite unusual interest and intelligence. One voice he heard strike in again and again, ,and when- ever it did so the others were hushed at once. “How long are we to wait here?” grumbled one. . “Till Dickey comes back, rate,” said another. “Why on earth isn’t he here?” ask- ed a third. “Because,” replied the voice, “he had a fancy to overhaul the vicarage. He thought there were some bones lying there worth picking, and we shall have him back with the meat in a minute or two. Why, there he is, I do believe.” 4 Even as the voice stopped Phil could at any But for years it} had been his habit to haunt the caves | B. PAUL NEUMAN: hear a noise overhead, and a _ loud click which sounded very familiar. The next minute half-a-dozen voices cried together: “Why, Dick!” “What's the matter, man?” “Have you been having a roll in the dirt, old tusker?” Here-the voice broke in again and the others were still at once. “Come here, mate, and say what’s wrong.” “This is what’s wrong,” cried a voice that Phil knew only too well, and as he heard it he shivered. “I’ve been tricked and fooled and half killed by that young brat of a loony, and I'd give all my share of the swag to squelch his ugly face into mud.” And the speaker proceeded to tell the story of his visit to the vicarage and his subsequent discomfiture: “But how do you know it was the young looney?” asked one of the gang. “By this cap!” shouted Weasel John, and instinctively Phil put his hand to his head, which was bare. The fact was, until he went to the vicarage he had always by choice gone barehead- ed. Mrs. Champion had insisted on a cap, but it was always an incum- brance, and he certainly never felt the want of it. “I'm afraid,” said the master Voice, “you'll have to leave his face alone for the present. We've waited longer than we ought already. The Bouncing Bet’s at anchor a few miles down yon- der. She’s to show a red and a green about 10 o'clock, and it’s past 9 now. We can take the stuff we’ve got from the Cowslip and dump it down on her now, and if the coast’s clear she can come close in and take off the rest of our stock. Then we'll slip round to Bude, where all’s quiet now, and sell it there, and then off on the brig to the West Indies and the meat trade. We've had enough of this lively hole, and a bit of the blue and the old game on the high seas is what we want—eh, lads?” A murmur of approval arose from many throats, but Weasel John an- swered doggedly: “You ‘can please yourselves, every mother’s son of you, but I'm going to burn that blighted vicarage down and see if I can’t settle my tally with him as stoned me.” . “And I say you sha’n’t,” returned the voice that had just spoken. “For why? Because we can’t do without our dear little Dickey. And if you stay you'll tauten a hemp rope as sure as my name is Humphrey Tripp.” “We'll all do that seme day, sure enough,” growled Weasel John. “Yes, but we want a bit of fun first, and it’s some one else will be having the fun unless we mend our paces.” P “Wihat’s all this hurry over, I want to know?” grumbled the Weasel, but his tone was not so dogged as before. “Because,” replied Tripp, speaking very slowly and distinctly, “there’s one of his majesty’s ships cruisin, about in these waters, with her boat crawling into every bight and bay, and the name of the ship is the Endy- mion—that’s why, matey, and a pretty good reason, too, I think.” There was silence for a minute, and when Weasel John spoke again it was in a strangely altered voice. “The Endymion, eh? Ah, well, if that old hulk is within range the sooner we sheer off the better. You're right again, Humph. Did you make a clean job out there?” “All but four.” * “Four!” screamed the Weasel. “Why not forty, or four hundred? Fools to leave one to gabble.” “Easy, there, Dick, with your com- plaints, said another voice. “These four fought like demons till Tripp here made terms with them.” “Terms, indeed!” snapped the Wea- sel. “Yes, terms,” ’ went on the other. “Their blood was up and ours would | soon have been running, and we can’t spare any just now, so Humph got them to surrender.” “and what did you do with them after all?” “Do?” It was Tripp who answered with a dry chuckle. them in the sweetest little trap you ever saw; put a stopper in their whis- tles, trussed them leg and -arm, and | left them on their backs in the near bay—it’s spring tide, you know, and | this wind will bring the water in, like | a mill-race.” “Very pretty and mighty clever, no | doubt,” he growled; “that’s just your fault—you’re a bit too clever. A good dig’ in a soft place between the ribs is worth a dozen of your pretty traps. Suppose we fall into one ourselves. Suppose one of those boats you speak of goes ferreting about the Cruddle to-night. Very pretty we should look if they got their hands on your four.” “No fear of that,” answered Tripp, but his voice sounded a shade “less confident. Then, as the Weasel went on grum- bling and muttering, he added: “Very well, Dickey, have your own way; you deserve a bit of fun after that clout on the head. It'll be a good half-hour’s work now to get the stuff from the back down to the door. You pull over in that little skiff there and do your digging by yourself. It won’t take you long, and it'll sweeten your disposi- tion. But don’t waste time.” “It wouldn’t be the first time ty dig- “Why, caught | | thought it would be upset, or at least ging has saved your ni | the thwart on which Weasel John had | hands for the lowest step. Grasping | admit-of its turning. ecks,” said the * little man, “and ‘I’ve got my own to think of, too. So lend a hand, ‘you lazy lubbers.” ‘Whereupon there was a sound of doors being thrown open, and the next moment, to Phil’s dismay, the boat in which he was hidden was seized by a dozen hands and dragged along the rough floor. One of the men even lifted a corner of the sacking and said: “What's this stuff?” , There was a moment's silence dur- ingwhich Phil’s heart seemed to stop beating, for he had felt the pull and thought the Weasel had discovered him. Then that worthy answered: “Only a bit o’ waste to keep her dry. That’s it; now shove her out and run her down.” They were in the opening now, the cowering lad could feel, andsthe boat was rumbling over the stones. In another moment she was lifted by the water. A vigorous push and a long, hard pull made her shoot for- ward like a live thing. “Got your spade with you, Dick?” laughed one of the men. “Aye,” said Weasel John, and his voice sounded so close at hand that Phil shuddered again; “more tools than time,” it seems.” For a little while the lad remained crouching under his shelter, hardly daring to breathe. At length, hearing his enemy beginning to hum his fa- vorite ditty, The captain and the captain’s mate, ’Twas good white bread and beef they ate, he ventured to peep forth. The sky had partially cleared and here and there st were shining forth with cold, stely brilliance. The wind had fallen and the sea was quieter, though a strong tide was hurrying in and made their progress slow and difficult. They passed the Cap and made straight for Wedge Hill, till it seemed to the frightened boy as if they must inevitably be dashed against the | great mass of rock. Just as the catastrophe seemed im- minent and Phil had hidden his face in anticipation of the shock, the toss- ing of the waves ceased as if by mag- ic, and, looking out again, he saw that they were gliding in a narrow channel between high walls of rock. Weasel John had uncovered his lan- thorn and set it in front of him, but | its feeble and uncertain light seemed only to make the scene more strange | and weird. Indeed, owing to the remarkable folding of the rock edges the open- ing, whether from the outside or in- side, was visible only at a certain an- gle, and to Phil it appeared as though they must, in some miraculous way, have come through the solid rock. At dead low water in the spring tides the channel was almost dry, and only | when the tide was nearing the full | was there water enough to carry a big | boat. The Weasel had boated his oars, and leaning over towards the rock on the right was guiding his course with his hand. Soon he caught hold of an iron ring fastened in the rock. To this he hitched the rudder line, and holding his lanthorn in one hand step- | ped from the boat to the rock. The lurch of the skiff made Phil take an- other look. By the light of the lan- thorn he could see that at this spot the rock was notched into a_ series of rudely carved winding steps, up which the little man was now climbing with | wonderful agility. When he had reach- | ed a considerable height he stopped | short, as if in surprise, and lifting the light revealed a large opening in the rock. Through this he clambered and disappeared, leaving Phil in absolute darkness. CHAPTER XVIII. Left alone Phil’s courage soon be- gan to return. Moving very gently he gradually released himself from | the sacking and sat up in the bows, constantly turning apprehensive | glances in the direction of the rock } steps. Finding that nothing happened, | he grew bolder and crossed over to been sitting, and felt with both his this, he tried to push off but found that the boat was fast tethered by the till- | er line, which he had forgotten. Pull-| ing out his knife he crawled into the | stern and soon cut the strands. The | boat had been lying obliquely across the channel, which was too narrow to It now immediately began to move forward with increasing swiftness, as the boy could easily tell from the force with which it was every now and again driven against the rocks. Indeed, more than once it seemed as have its timbers ripped open. Even as it was there came a sharp | turn, round which the current took them with such a rush and swirl that, striking on a sharp projection, the skiff did almost go over, and Phil was tumbled on his back. Both, however, succeeded in righting themselves, and, shooting under what seemed in the darkness a great arch of rock, they came out into the open sea on the east side of Wedge Hill, and the lad soon realized that he was being swept along towards the dreaded Cruddle. Seizing one of the oars he tried to steer clear of the rocks which reared their stunted but threatening forms, thrown into relief by the white foam, on every side. It was hard work, for Phil was no Hercules, but by good for- tune rather than skill or strength, he succeeded till the stronger currents of the Cruddle itself began to suck him in. Here were three or four in- lets, varying in width and in the depth of their embayment, and divid- ed from one another by sharp promon- | sworn enemy and tell him how . 1 ‘of the dividing wall. Thé next mo- ment it was spitted by a hidden out- lier, and a big breaker poured its froth in streams over the gunwale. Phil gave a desperate thrust with his oar, and the little craft staggered free; then, lifted by another wave, leapt into the second inlet and was flung upon a narrow strip of beach with great rocks on either side. It was a miracle of good fortune, and the boy, as he sprang on shore, could hardly believe he was safe and sound. But his astonishment was changed again into dismay, as out of the darkness came voices, and four or five men came running down the beach and seized him, dinning his ears with a clatter of words which he y—bewildered as he was—could not in the least understand. (To Be Continued.) - Sounds So Pretty. A clergyman in baptizing a baby paused in the midst of the service to inquire the name of the infant, to which the mother, with a profound curtesy replied: “Shady, sir, if you please.” “Shady!” ® replied the minister. “Then it’s a boy and you mean Shad- rack, eh?” No, please your reverence, it’s a girl.” ; “And pray,’ asked the inquisitive pastor, “how happened you to call ths child such a strange name?” “Why, sir,” responded the woman, if you must know, our name is Bower, and my husband said as how he should like her to be called Shady, because Shady Bower sounds so pretty.” When Woman Envies Man. When he gives his hair a neat brush and his coiffure is complete. When the children cry and he can whistle a tune, get his hat, bang the door and go out. | When he trips up the street on a | rainy day with his trousers jauntily turned up and no skirts to carry. When he can wear his best hat in the rain without getting the curl out of the feathers. When he doesn’t have to twist his arms to hook his bodice up the back or drag six superfluous yards of dress goods behind him—and do it grace- fully, too. When he doesn’t have to his eet he looks. Not to Be Outdone. Housekeeper—Have you any Mocha coffee, Mr. Sands? Small Deaisr—Y “Genuine Mocha “Just imported, mum.” “Import it yourself?” “Oh, yes, mum. I send my orders direct to the—the sultan, mum.” “Humph! How much have you or mum. | hand?” “Bout sixty pounds, mum.” “You have, eh, sixty pounds? I read in the paper this very morning that not over fifty pounds of genuine Mo- cha reached this country annually.” “Yes, mum, that’s true. “I had ten pounds over from last year.” Cheaply as Possible. “When you first entered politics,” said the young man who was looking for knowledge, “did you set out with the determination to win at any cost?” “No,” answered Senator Sorghum, “T set out with the determination to win at as little expense as possible.” A Real Gentleman. The other day a certain lady, h ing heard a ring and the sound of car- riage wheels, asked her handmaiden who had called. The reply was as follows: “It was a doctor, mum, mistaking the house for next. So polite he was, asking my pardon for him bringing me up to open the door, and such nice manners. When he said he was a doctor you might have knocked me down with a feather. I thought he was a gentle- man.” The Woes of Genius. “Thi>« of writing love songs for lard and sonnets for sirup,” exclaimed the poet. “It really is too bad,” said the wife. “You should at least get a whole side of meat for a love song and a barrel of molasses for three good sonnets.” And then he glared at her and kick- ed the cat, and sat down to write an obituary poem for a man who had giv- en him a sack of flour—Atlanta Con- stitution. Gain Either Way. Dr. Garth, a witty physician of the court of Queen Anne, had prescribed a nauseous dose for the great war- rior, duke of Marlborough. When the duke objected to following directions, the sharp-tongued duchess” Sarah broke in by saying, “I'll be hanged if it does not cure you.” “There, my lord,” interposed Garth, “you had bet- ter swallow it; you will gain either way.” The World Woild Wait. “He said he would lay the world at my feet,” said the impressionable girl. “Tell him to start with something easy,” answered Miss Pepper. “Tell him to look after the house rent and the grocery bill, and never mind the world for a few years yet.”—Chicago Journal. a eee ey Couldn’t Use Him. Pi Mrs. Smith—I’d like to sell you a ticket, sir. We're getting up a raf- fle for a poor sailor. Mr. Krusty—Not to me. I wouldn’t know what to do with a sailor if I won him.—Ex. tories of rock. Across the mouth of the first the boat shot like an arrow, missing by a hair’s breath the ugly black fang Bill—Who first used the expression “He’s all in,” do you think? Jill—Why, the whale that swallow: ed Jonah, I guess,