The Ranger Boys and the Border Smugglers
by Claude A. Labelle
Previous Part     1  2  3
Home - Random Browse

Assuring himself that the man was still sleeping soundly, he began to edge his way from under the bed. His way across the floor was one of infinite precaution, taking many minutes. After he had squirmed for a foot or so, he would stop and listen to see if the regular breathing of the man on the bed continued. Once as he was half way across the floor, he heard a creak, as the sleeper rolled over in his slumbers.

Garry didn't dare to move for nearly five minutes after this. Then he started again, and after what seemed an age, reached the window.

Cautiously he raised himself up, and thrust a leg out of the window. Then followed the other, and he was sitting on the sill. Leaning out, he let his body fall towards the limb, caught it, and swung clear of the window.

In a trice he had thrown his leg up over the tree, his practice in the gymnasium making this an easy feat. Crawling carefully along the limb, he worked his way to the trunk, and then the descent to the ground was accomplished without trouble. Without bothering to put on his shoepacks, he sped away from the house.

Finally he reached the road, and here he slipped the heavy shoepacks on, and in a few moments had rejoined his companions where they were nervously waiting under the big elm.

They hailed his coming with delight, pounding him on the back and shaking hands gleefully.

"What luck, old topper?" was Dick's first question.

"All the luck in the world, boys. Tonight our quest was crowned with success!"



"Tell us all about it," demanded Phil.

"All in good time," responded Garry. "First thing to do now is to put a bit of distance between us and that house. Don't want any of that gang to come and find us snooping around. Everything has gone as slick as a whistle so far, and we don't want any foolish oversight to queer it. I move we make a break for town and hive in somewhere and wait for daylight. Of course we can go to Everett's house, but we shouldn't bust in on him in the middle of the night. He's a sick man, you know."

"Wonder where we can go and talk things over," asked Dick. "I suppose we could go and duck in the woods a ways and build a bit of a fire, for it seems a bit chilly."

"There's one place we can go and never be bothered. That's down to the station. It never opens till six o'clock. I inquired of the agent when we arrived; didn't know but what the information might come in useful some time. Besides, there's a bench in front where we can sit and gas away without anyone hearing us. Then just before six we can hike to Everett's house, so that he won't be raising a rescue party."

All this conversation took place as the boys were walking. In a short time they had arrived at the station. The fitful gleam of an oil lamp on a bracket over the bench was the only light, although in a short time, now, the first light of early dawn would begin to break.

The weary boys threw themselves on the bench, while Garry proceeded to give an account of his night's venture. The chums listened with breathless interest as he told of the developments, and held their breath as Garry told of the dangerous business of getting out of the room with the man there on the bed.

"Gosh," said Dick, "I'd have given a good bit to be in on that. Strikes me that you and Phil have had all the fun out of this proposition."

"Sure we've had some fun out of it, but it's only evening things up a bit. Remember that it was you who had the honor of finding the hermit that time we were in search of him, and Phil had to stay behind without getting a chance, although he got into a pickle afterward," said Garry consolingly.

"Guess we can't have everything in this world," answered Dick. "Next thing to do now is to plan our new campaign. Of course we won't bother with them tomorrow night, for that is small potatoes compared to the jewel plot. Isn't that LeBlanc a cold blooded specimen of a human being? He'd double cross his own father. I doubt if he would have the slightest hesitation about putting the Russians out of the way if he couldn't achieve his ends in any other way."

"Dare say you're right, Dick. At any rate, we must now put our heads together and dope out just what to do in this smuggling case. What must be done is to capture them just as they get over the border. Then the gems will be found in their possession, and they will be caught dead to rights. If they are allowed to reach Green's house, there are any number of ways they can squirm out of the mess provided they have a clever lawyer. I don't know but what the best plan is to tell this whole business to Mr. Everett and see what he suggests. I imagine that his advice will be to get help from the Customs house up the line, and then lay in wait for them. There'll probably be a hot time taking them, so you'll come in for a share of the excitement after all, Dick."

This having been settled, there was nothing more to do except to chat away the time till morning. As they talked, the first faint flush of dawn appeared in the east, giving promise of a fine day despite the fact that the moonless night had hinted of rain.

Finally Garry looked at his watch.

"Just five o'clock," he announced. "In another few minutes we start for the Everett home. By the way, that Miss Ruth is a brick."

He said it so enthusiastically that Dick and Phil looked at each other and then burst into a shout of laughter. Both saw a chance to have a little fun at the expense of their leader.

"What do you know about that, Phil," said Dick, giving Phil a nudge as he spoke. "I believe upon my soul that Garry has been smitten with the charms of the fair lady."

"Looks very much that way," responded Phil, falling into the spirit of the joke.

Garry turned a dark red.

"Of all the confounded foolishness, that is the worst," he sputtered. "Why, I've only seen the girl a couple of times."

"Methinks thou dost protest too much," quoted Dick.

"And as for me, I'll have something to tell a certain young lady back home," announced Phil.

Garry again broke into indignant denials.

"By George, Phil, I only said that in joke, but now I think that I hit the nail on the head," declared Dick. As a matter of fact, both he and Phil were now sure that their joke was more flavored with truth than jest.

Just as they were preparing to leave, they heard a distant rumble.

"There's a train headed this way. Wonder if it's a freight or a passenger," remarked Phil.

"Must be a freight, there are no passengers scheduled to pass here at this time of day," said Garry. "Shall we wait and watch it go by? That seems to be the only thing in the way of excitement that is promised for this morning."

The others being agreeable, they waited a moment. Soon the puffing engine appeared at the curve, and the rumbling grinding cars passed them. The boys amused themselves by checking off the various railroad lines that were represented by the markings on the different freight cars. They noted the Grand Trunk and Canadian Pacific predominated, giving rise to the thought that this was bound for the far west via the Canadian Rockies.

As the caboose appeared in sight, the train seemed to slacken speed for a bit, and a man jumped off the back end, waving a goodbye to the train crew as he did.

"Well, talk about luck," shouted Garry, as he saw the features of the man. "There's Fernald, the Customs agent!"

He was right, and as soon as Fernald saw them, he hailed them, asking in surprise how they knew he was going to arrive at that time, and on a freight instead of a passenger train.

"To tell you the truth, Mr. Fernald," explained Garry, "you were the last man on earth that we expected to see right this minute. The reason for our being here involves the telling of a long story, and we must keep a six o'clock engagement in order to prevent an armed posse from going in search of us. Perhaps you'd better come along, and then we can tell you the story at the same time we tell Mr. Everett."

"Who's Everett?" asked Fernald quickly.

"Oh, he's a fine old chap, used to be collector at the Customs House when it was located here some years ago. We did him a slight favor a little while ago, and he repaid us very handsomely by giving us information that was the means of our getting a clue that means the capture of the gang Sunday night," answered Garry, as they walked along.

They reached the Everett house just on the stroke of six, and were admitted by Ruth even before they rang the bell. Evidently she had been watching for them from the window.

"Oh, I'm glad you are back all safe and sound. I worried so that I hardly slept, and Granddad woke me three or four times to know if you had come back. His orders were to have you go right up the minute you came. But who is this gentleman?"

"Pardon me, Miss Ruth, this is Mr. Fernald, one of the men of the service, and he will take charge from now on. We're thankful he came, for we were almost up a stump as to how to proceed now," said Garry. Indeed all three were thankful that Fernald had arrived, for they felt the need for the counsel of an older head than theirs, and one more experienced in the work of capturing a smuggler outfit than were they.

They found Mr. Everett in the act of struggling to tie a tie with one hand, and muttering fiery exclamations at his failure to accomplish the feat speedily. Garry did the job for him, and after Fernald had been introduced, they went over the story again.

Just before he started, old Mr. Everett, looking searchingly at Fernald, said:

"I remember you now. You were connected with that Harworth smuggling case nearly eighteen years ago. I was one of the witnesses then."

"Why, I remember you too, now," said Fernald, his face lighting up. At first he had been a little dubious about the boys having confided so much of their business to a stranger, but this new development cleared away all doubt.

Garry told the whole story of the night's happenings, amazing his hearers with the tale of his pluck and good fortune.

After the telling of the story, Ruth hastened away to prepare breakfast for all, insisting that they stay, although they protested against causing so much trouble.

"Oh, it won't be a bit of trouble. It will be fun, because it isn't often that I cook for anyone but Granddad and myself. Besides, I'll probably make Garry help me wipe the dishes." With that she darted from the room.

Phil and Dick burst into a shout of laughter.

"Aha, it seems that the same arrow has hit two people," Dick whispered to Phil, but loud enough so that Garry could hear. He blushed furiously, but could be drawn to make no comment or denial.

"Now the next thing on the docket is to discover the exact trail taken by these men on their smuggling trip. We know it will be the same on both nights, but of course we won't molest them on the first trip. This big gem plot overshadows all others. The question is, just how to find that trail."

"If you will allow me to make a suggestion, I think I can solve that problem after I ask a question or two of Mr. Everett," interposed Garry.

"Go to it, you boys have done the trick so far, now go on and finish it," said Fernald heartily.

"First, then," said Garry, "how far is the boundary line at a point just back of Green's farm, and how dense is the woodland there, Mr. Everett?"

"Why, as the crow flies, it is about three miles, maybe a little less. And as for the woodage, it is quite sparse. You see the logging operations extended that way, and they very nearly clean cut that land. There are, however, a few big trees scattered here and there. On the other side of the border, the forest gets considerable thicker."

"Fine, I see a way very clearly now," said Garry. "Sometime today, LeBlanc and Green, with the other two men, whose names I do not know, will cross the border, for they are due to return tonight with furs. Dick, Phil and I will estimate as near as we can the point on the line at the back of Green's farm. Then we will take positions about a sixteenth of a mile apart, perhaps a little more. We can mount one of the taller trees, and with our glasses can keep a sharp lookout for the point where they cross the line. It is likely that from force of habit they will take the same route going as returning. That will allow us to cover a quarter of a mile, counting in what we can see without glasses on either side. Then on Saturday we can repeat the operation, if necessary, thus getting a double check on the route. We know how to get our bearings and mark the trail so that we can find it again, even in the dark."

"That's the ticket. That will be your work for today then, while I go up the line and arrange for a posse of Customs men and deputies to effect the capture of Sunday night," said Fernald.

They could detect the welcome smell of boiling coffee and bacon and eggs, and at that moment Ruth called them to breakfast.



"Shall we give you a lift downstairs, Mr. Everett?" asked Garry.

"Say, do you fellows take me for a confounded child?" snorted Mr. Everett. "Just because I get bruised up a little is no sign that I'm a helpless invalid. I'll go downstairs by the help of myself and no one else."

"What's that I hear, Granddad?" demanded Ruth, from the bottom of the stairs. "You are not to stir a single step unless you let two of the boys help you."

"There, dang it, Ruthie, can't you let me save my pride in front of these youngsters? All right, all right, have it your own way. But I warn you, one of these days you'll boss me too much, and then well see, we'll see."

As the boys, a little embarrassed by the turn of events, were helping him down the stairs, he whispered delightedly:

"Bosses me round just like a youngster, that girl does. Only way I can save my pride is to let on that I'm awful put out about it. But Lord bless you, if she didn't boss me, I wouldn't know what to do," he concluded with another chuckle of pleasure.

The boys then perceived that Ruth's "bossing" was evidently a daily occurrence, a sort of family joke, and joined in laughing with old Mr. Everett, who seemed to take such keen delight in "saving his pride."

Breakfast was a jolly affair. The eggs were done to a turn, the bacon crisp, the coffee like drops of amber, and the hot biscuits would fairly melt in one's mouth. They chatted merrily while they ate. Suddenly it occurred to Garry to ask how it was Fernald had arrived that morning.

"Why I got the whole dope on the receiving end of the fur smuggling by your tip on the two buyers, and have that ready to clean up any time I want to. Then I got worrying about you boys here in a strange country, and decided to hop on and lend what assistance I could. I got as far as I could by passenger train, and then because of bad connections, got waylaid and found I would have had to lay over. Fortunately that fast freight came along, and by dint of a little persuasion managed to convince the trainmen that I was not a tramp, but on government business, with the result that I arrived here fourteen hours quicker than I would have otherwise. It was a piece of good fortune, for I guess I am here in just enough time to see the finish of a thrilling case, minus the thrills for me."

Breakfast over, Fernald said he was off for the Customs House, while the boys prepared for a long vigil at the border to spot the "lane" used by the smugglers in their trips.

Ruth insisted on preparing a lunch for them, and packed it so it could be comfortably slipped in the pockets, so that no excess baggage would bother them.

Before starting out, Garry climbed to the attic of the Everett house, and getting the range with his glasses, computed the distance by means of the Mill scale on the glasses. This gave him a working plan to use when they hit the border, and could direct their steps so as to come out almost exactly back of the Green farm. All that they needed to know was the distance from the Everett House to the border. Ruth informed them it was a matter of almost exactly three miles and a half, so they were now sure of their distances and course. By making straight north for the border, they would have the advantage of avoiding going through the main part of the town.

Starting out, the three made their way directly to the approximate location of the border line. They kept track of the distance by using a careful thirty inch step, such as is used in the regular army, and counting their paces as they went. A pace consists of two steps, and is measured by starting off with the right foot and counting every time the left foot strikes the ground. This makes each pace just five feet, and as there are five thousand, two hundred eighty feet in a mile, one can estimate when he has paced a mile within a very few feet.

Arriving at the general point where the imaginary line ran, they branched off at right angles and walked the necessary distance to bring them to a location in line with the Green farm. To make sure, Garry climbed to the top of a tree, and with his glasses soon spotted the farm.

Garry elected to stay at this point, and instructed his companions to pace a sixteenth of a mile to either side, and there find a likely tree and mount it to keep their long vigil.

"We ought not to have to wait a great length of time, for they will have to get to their destination to get the furs and come back again, since they intend to bring them tonight," said Garry. "There doesn't seem to be any way that we can signal to each other in the event that they see the men pass, so I suggest that a full half hour wait be made after the man or men, for they will probably all go together, or at very near intervals, have passed and then duck back to this tree where I am holding out, and report. We all know what LeBlanc and Green look like, but Dick here never saw the other two accomplices, so I'll describe them carefully. Wait until they have all crossed before leaving your post, and when you do, be on your guard every step of the way, to prevent surprise."

Garry then described the men for Dick's benefit, and assuring himself that all instructions were understood, dispatched the chums to their posts, and then selected the tree that he intended to use for a post. Climbing up into the branches so that he would be out of sight, and yet be able to command a view, he made himself as comfortable as possible, although there was no rocking chair ease. Taking off his coat he made a sort of a cushion of it, in the crotch formed by the juncture of two heavy branches and made ready for his wait.

Nearly two hours passed without his seeing a sign of any approach, and the uncomfortable seat began to be irksome. Occasionally he stretched himself by climbing up into the tree a ways, and then back again.

He was beginning to think that he had bargained for too much, to guarantee to stay there and watch for the approach of the smugglers.

Another hour passed, and he began to be stiff and strained. At that moment he heard a whistle, a succession of different notes which he at once recognized as a signal often used by the three when they were approaching each other.

In a few moments Dick loomed into view.

Garry, rescuing his coat and rifle, slid down the tree and hailed him with the all important question as to whether he had found what they came in search of.

"Bet you I did," promptly responded Dick, when the question had been put. "They came in a clump almost. First the two chaps you described, and about five minutes after, LeBlanc and Green breezed by, not letting any grass grow under their feet. I've marked the spot well, and have located a good trail all the way, using private signs of our own that would be meaningless even to a woodsman familiar with all trail markings and signs. Fact I discovered one or two unfamiliar trail signs, that I could not recognize, and I believe they are the ones put there by a smuggler band. I'm pretty certain that is the regular trail used. Are you stiff? Believe me, that is the last tree sentry duty I want for a long time to come. I'd as soon sit two hours on a telegraph wire as the limb of a tree. Let's hike after Phil and return to town. Guess we've done all that we can."

"Yes, nothing remains now to be done except wait for the big doings Saturday night. Let's go, and keep a sharp lookout all the time. By the way, how near did they pass to you?"

"Not more than twenty feet above where I was located. Evidently they do not cut a straight line from the farm, but slant a little, unless our reckoning was a bit off. It is likely that they swerve a bit, because there may be a pathway across the farm that they use to get here. Believe me, I held my breath as they went by, although there was little danger of their seeing me. I strained my ears to see what they might be talking about, but could get nothing, as they talked in a low tone," answered Dick.

In a few minutes they had come to where Phil was perched, and he clambered down and met them. They told him the latest developments, and then struck out for town.

"I'm all in for a little sleep. I move we go back to Everetts', and ask them to loan us a couch or a bed or something for a couple of hours or so. I believe I could sleep for a year."

"That's a good idea. Mr. Everett said that we were to consider the house as headquarters until the game was bagged, so there would be no danger of our running into a scrape and spoiling the plans," remarked Garry.

The thought of a nap made them hasten their steps, and soon they were back at the house. Ruth admitted them, and after telling her and her grandfather of their success, proposed a nap.

"You deserve it, certainly. You can use the big double room, there are two beds in it, and turn in till suppertime. Fernald won't be back before then, and there's nothing to keep you up," said Mr. Everett.

The tired boys soon tumbled into bed, and without any preamble, dropped off to sleep. They had slept what seemed to them to be only a few minutes, when they were awakened by Fernald.

"Tumble up now, it's six o'clock, and the young lady downstairs says that supper will get cold if you wait any longer."

A liberal application of cold water soon aroused them, and in a little while they were doing justice to the ample meal served up for them.

As they were eating, Fernald told them he had made arrangements for four men to come from the Customs House and help in the capture of the band.

"That will give us five men, and with the element of surprise in our favor, we will have little trouble in capturing them," he said.

"How do you figure five?" broke in Dick.

"Why, myself, and the four men who are coming," he answered.

"Well, where do we come in?" demanded Phil, seconded by Garry.

"Oh, I had forgotten about the possibility of you're wanting to be there. I'm afraid that it is too dangerous," said Fernald gravely.

The protests of the three came almost in one voice, until Fernald, unable to keep a straight face any longer, broke out into a shout of laughter. The boys then saw that he had been indulging in a quiet bit of fun at their expense, and they were not to be cheated out of their share in the capture of the outfit.

After supper the boys pitched in and helped wash and wipe dishes, although Miss Ruth protested. Used as they were to camping, washing dishes was no new experience to them.

A pleasant evening was passed, and then the chums trooped off to bed, Fernald sharing the big room with them.

"Just think, while we are sleeping, LeBlanc and his outlaws will be coming across the border with their cargo of furs," said Dick, as they prepared for bed. "And we don't get any excitement now till the night after tomorrow. It will seem an age, the waiting."

They were up with the sun, and after breakfast Fernald left to loiter around the town, and see what could be seen, or hear any gossip. Of course by this time LeBlanc knew that Phil had been rescued, so Fernald judged that the safest thing for the boys to do was to keep either in the house or close to it, thus giving LeBlanc the idea that the trio had decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and had gotten out of such a dangerous locality.

"I'd like to have seen LeBlanc's face when he found out that Phil had given him the slip. I'll bet he was mad enough to chew nails," chuckled Garry.

The day did not prove half so long in passing as the boys expected that it would. Mr. Everett told them many a tale of the early days on the border, and other stories of smugglers along the coast line, where he first entered the Customs service.

There was a piano in the parlor, and the boys found that Ruth played in excellent manner, and found hearty enjoyment in singing while she played. Garry was greatly pleased to find that Mr. Everett played chess, and they enjoyed several games.

Fernald returned in the evening with the report that LeBlanc had not put in an appearance, but that Green had been much in evidence all through the afternoon, and wore an aspect of being greatly pleased.

"Tomorrow night he won't be quite so tickled about things as he appeared to be this afternoon," the agent remarked.

"Tomorrow night is a long way off, wish it was tomorrow night right now," half grumbled Phil.

"Patience, my boy, patience. You know all things come to those who wait," said Mr. Everett.

Mr. Everett had gained considerably in strength, and with the exception of his broken arm, was as well as ever, showing what a fine healthy constitution he possessed.

The second day seemed to be even longer in passing, for staying so much in the house began to pall on the boys, who craved excitement.

In the later afternoon, the four men from the Customs House came, arriving singly. They gathered in the big dining room, and there received instructions from Fernald, who had assumed the lead.

The instructions were simple. The boys were to lead them to the "lane," as they called it, and there they would deploy slightly and lay in wait for the quarry.

"I procured at the Customs House a star shell, such as was used during the war. When the men are over the line, and almost upon us, I will light it, and each one will pick a man and cover him. There will probably be seven of them, LeBlanc and Green, their two aids, the two Russians, and the man Anderson that you boys speak of. There are eight of us here, and we will be joined when we start out by the sheriff of this county and two deputies, who will arrive here after dark. That makes a force of eleven, enough to do the work."

"You mean there are twelve of us," broke in Everett. "I am going to be the twelfth man. Just because one arm is laid up doesn't mean that the other one cannot do double duty."

All protests were unavailing, and rather than deny him the pleasure of being one of the party, Fernald allowed that he could go, first demanding and getting a promise that if there should be a mix-up he would lose no time in getting to safety.

"We'll lay back a bit from the spot where they cross, because the arrest must be made on this side of the border, otherwise we would get in a jam with our neighbors to the north of us, and the arrest would not be valid, for they are not smugglers till they have crossed the line. One of your duties, boys, will be to keep your flashlamps going after the star shell has dimmed. That will last long enough to show them our force, and I anticipate no resistance."

Shortly after dark fell, the party was joined by the sheriff and his two deputies, and the little force, led by the three chums, made their way over the course taken the morning they set out in search of the point of crossing made by the smugglers.

Walking in Indian file, with no conversation other than an occasional direction or order given in a low tone of voice, they reached the border line. The boys felt a thrill of excitement at the thought of the part they were playing on this adventurous night. Soon they reached the point where Garry had watched, and from then on, Dick was the sole guide. Flashing his lamp only often enough to find the trail marks he had left, he led the way unerringly to the point where he had seen them cross.

There was no light save the feeble bit given by the stars, for it was in the dark of the moon.

"Now," whispered Dick to Fernald, "it was at this point that they crossed the border."

"All right, now men, follow me."

Fernald led the way back about twenty feet, having received the assurance of Everett, who was thoroughly familiar with that part of the country, that they were on the American side, and ordered the men to lay down, keeping their rifles and revolvers constantly at hand.

"No man is to make a move till I explode the star shell, then each one here pick a man. If orders are implicitly obeyed, there will be no trouble and no bloodshed."

"Beg pardon, sir," said Garry. "If we are laying down and you explode the shell, we'll be at a disadvantage, losing precious seconds in springing to our feet. I suggest you and I stay close together, and a few seconds before you are going to explode the shell, give me two taps on the shoulder. Then I can give the cry of a hoot owl, and each man can jump to his feet to be ready when the shell lights up the surroundings."

"Fine. Every man here know the cry of an owl?"

All did, so Fernald gave the order to lie down. The long, long minutes dragged into an hour, and the hour into a second. The boys were so restless that it was hard to lie quiet and still, but they forced themselves to.

It was almost midnight, but it seemed like a week to the boys, when the cracking of twigs and the crunch of feet warned of the approach of men. It proved to be the party, for they heard a low growling imprecation from Green as he stumbled over some object. Garry nudged Fernald, and immediately felt two sharp taps on his shoulder. At once he imitated the plaintive hoo-o-o- hoo-o-o- of an owl.

The men sprang to their feet. Fernald pressed the detonator of the star shell, tossing it into the air as he did so. It fell to the ground and shed its light, making it seem as bright and glaring as it would be in the noonday sun.

The attacked party halted as though turned to stone for a moment, so great was their surprise. Then Green let out a mighty cry.

They had no chance, for the businesslike rifles and revolvers of a dozen men were pointed straight at them. The two Russians were unarmed, and consequently unable to do anything had they wished. Every man gave up except one.

That was the half-breed, LeBlanc. With a cry of rage he fired his rifle into the midst of the men, fortunately hitting no one, and then turning, ran fleet as a deer back across the border. One of the deputies raised his rifle to shoot, but was speedily checked by Fernald.

"Shoot above his head to try and stop him, but don't hit him. He's on the other side of the border now!"

Then ordering the men to extend their hands, the Customs agents soon had them securely handcuffed.

Just at that moment an appalling thought came to Garry.

"Oh, Mr. Fernald. Suppose LeBlanc had the jewels!"

Truly the thought was a chilling one, but Fernald, always a man of action, made no reply, but sprang to the side of one of the Russians and searched him hastily but carefully. His search revealed nothing. Then he turned to the second, and in a minute uttered a jubilant shout.

"This fellow has a chamois money belt on, and unless I'm greatly mistaken, that's where the jewels are."

Making the Russian strip off his shirt, he unhooked the money belt, and while Garry held his light, examined the pockets.

Each one was crowded with magnificent gems that flashed under the rays of the flashlamp!



The men were marched away to the village, where they were incarcerated in the village lockup. In order that there would not be the slightest chance of their escaping, or being rescued by friends, who might in some way learn of their capture, Fernald ordered the Customs agents and the sheriff and his deputies to stand guard the rest of the night, keeping the prisoners constantly under surveillance.

Himself taking charge of the precious belt, he led the way to the Everett house. Here they found that Ruth had not retired, but had stayed up, nervously awaiting their return.

Carefully drawing the shades of the windows, Fernald emptied the pockets of the belt out onto the tablecloth.

For moments all stood spellbound at the beauty and magnificence of the gems.

Then Fernald, almost with awe in his voice, said:

"Why, there's a king's ransom here!"

After the party had examined the gems, and commented again and again on their beauty, it occurred to Ruth to ask what would be the disposal of the jewels.

"I imagine that in this case, since they are recovered after a theft, that an effort will be made to get in touch with the rightful owner. In the case of ordinary smuggled jewels, they would be seized by the United States. This, however, is a slightly different case. It is up to the department at Washington, where I shall go immediately to turn this fortune over to the proper persons. I confess, the quicker they get out of my care, the better I shall like it. They are too fabulously valuable to allow me to keep cool while in possession of them. Every minute I shall feel that someone is trying to get them. I'm off to Washington as soon as day comes, and I can get a train," concluded Fernald.

"And now, before we trot off to bed, what are your plans, boys? Will you return to Augusta to get your old station back again, or what?" asked the Customs man.

"Why, to tell you the truth, I should like a chance to stay here for two or three days and get a little hunting and fishing. We didn't have much chance for that while we were on this mission. I guess perhaps we could wire the Chief Ranger and ask for a little furlough. Also, we must wire the Customs Chief that we have done our work. I think probably the boys feel the same way that I do," said Garry.

"Well, if that is what you would like, it is very simple, and is a modest request. Leave that all to me. I'll stop off at Augusta and fix it for you. By the way, now that everything is all over, I may as well tell you that I am in complete charge of all Customs agents and houses for the entire northeastern part of the United States, so I guess I have influence enough to get your furlough fixed up for you," said Fernald, to the surprise of the boys.

Mr. Everett, however, proclaimed at once:

"I knew that all the time."

"Yes, I fancy you did," he said with a smile. "Now, I'm for a few minutes' sleep before morning train time."

"Yes, I guess we can all use a little," said Everett.

All trooped off to bed, having been told by Everett first that they could sleep until nine, as there was no train out that Fernald could take until ten o'clock, and he would have time for breakfast before starting back for Washington.

Rising time came all too soon, and the boys walked to the station to see Fernald off. Then they went back to the Everett house to get their rifles, and bid them goodbye, for they wanted to be off for their lean-to in the woods, there to plan out how to spend the week furlough they were depending on Fernald to secure for them.

They found the lean-to as they had left it, and their knapsacks and groceries were retrieved from their caches in the trees, as safe and sound as they were when they were put there some days before.

"I wonder if we are safe from LeBlanc?" asked Garry.

"I should say yes to that question, Garry," answered Phil. "He has been beaten at every turn. His friends are on their way to jail in Bangor, to be held for hearing before the United States Commissioner there, and he knows that the Customs service men will be relentless in their watch for him now that he has broken the law of the country. Besides, we shall soon be away from here, for I suggest we hike out soon for Lake Umculos, which is about thirty miles from here, and get some good fishing. The lake trout ought to be biting fine just about now, and we could get in some good swimming too, and that would please old heavyweight Dick."

Dick, as some of our readers know, was like a fish in the water, as most fat people are.

As they prepared lunch over the campfire, Phil broke out with:

"Do you know, fellows, in the stress and excitement of the past few days, we have never given a thought to the adventure of the lumberjack's boarding house, and the map that was bequeathed me by the old man just before he died? I wonder if there isn't some way we can dope out what the rest of it was. And while I'm asking questions, here are two more. What became of the tramps, and who was it that so carefully fixed up the shack at the deserted logging camp?"

"That's quite a bundle of questions, Phil," said Garry with a laugh. "To try and answer the first one, I am afraid that it is impossible. All we have to go on is that you start somewhere from the mouth of some small ravine. There is no telling how many small ravines there are in the State of Maine. Guess that is just a mysterious page in our book of adventures. As for the tramps, the fact that they were in this part of the country at all, points to just one theory, and that is, that having jumped bail, they are making tracks for the boundary line, thus getting themselves out of the country, so there will be less danger, if any, of their being captured and brought to trial. As for the last question, that too is a mystery, but there is one thing we can do, if you want to postpone your trip to the lake for two or three days, that is, solve the mystery. What's the vote?"

"I'm for solving a mystery any day in preference to fishing. We can fish almost anytime, and the lakes will keep, but we don't have a nice mystery served up on a silver platter everyday," announced Dick.

"That's my vote," agreed Phil.

"Then the question seems to be carried. The chair will now entertain a motion for the mode of procedure," announced Garry in a parliamentary tone.

The boys reflected for a moment or two, and then a suggestion was offered by Phil.

"Seems to me that the only way to do anything is to keep watch there for a while. We could take turns at it, while the other two took hikes or did a little hunting. We could take it in half day shifts, for it isn't very far from here."

"That seems the only feasible thing to do, but how could we keep watch without the person or persons who inhabit that place discovering our presence?" asked the practical Garry.

"There's one way out of that difficulty," offered Dick, "and that is to effect an entrance to the big bunkhouse, and rig up some sort of a peephole, and keep watch of the place in that manner. It is unlikely that place would ever be entered by those who are using the shack. Then here's another thing. You could rig your wireless here, and use one of the sending sets in the bunkhouse, so that the lookout could summon help if necessary."

"The bunkhouse idea is great, really it's the only feasible way. But the wireless 'phone is not such a good idea. It would entail staying right here all the time waiting for a possible message, and would be too irksome, besides losing all chance of hunting or fishing. I for one am anxious to try that trout brook old Dud told us of. Besides, there should be no especial danger, if there was I'd advise against having anything to do with it. Shall we draw lots for the first whack at watching?"

This was agreeable to all, and Garry drew watch number one, which they decided was to begin in the morning. All three would go to the bunkhouse, effect an entrance, and plan a way of speedy exit in case of need.

After lunch they overhauled their fishing tackle, and made for the brook, determined to catch a good mess of trout for their supper that night. Starting for the spring, they followed the course of the brook, until they reached a place where it was considerably wider and deeper.

Under the natural culvert, formed by the trunk fallen across, they cast their lines, using flies from their hook. Not having rods with them on this trip, they were forced to use slender saplings, but they were after food and not sport, so they did not mind pursuing the amateur way of flipping the fish on shore without playing him in the fashion dear to the hearts of anglers.

"If we go to the lake, we'll make up for this, for we can procure rods there, and have a real battle with some of those fine big lake trout," promised Garry.

"There isn't much sport to this, it is true," remarked Phil, as he flipped a fine specimen weighing at least three-quarters of a pound to the shore, "but they're going to be mighty fine eating just the same."

The fish were biting unusually well, and in less than no time they had a fine mess sufficient for supper. Returning to the lean-to, they cleaned the fish, and then spent the rest of the afternoon lounging about, for they had lost much sleep in the past two or three days, and no one was feeling particularly spry.

They had the fried fish, garnished with bacon, and hot biscuits and jam for supper, with of course the coffee that always goes with an out-of-door meal.

As soon as it was dark, they rolled in their blankets, and with their feet to the fire, were soon deep in sleep.

They were up with the dawn, and after breakfast headed towards the deserted logging camp. They approached carefully, and when within sight of it, waited and reconnoitered.

"Guess no one is at home or there would be a sign of smoke from the chimney, unless whoever is living there is eating raw food. Let's take a look at the spring," said Garry.

At the spring they found no sign of anyone having been there lately. This was easily seen, for the ground was soft about the bubbling spring, and would have retained a fresh print.

"All right then, now for the bunkhouse," ordered Garry.

They entered by prying loose one of the shutters and hopped inside. The interior gave no sign of having been used for years, as the dust was thick everywhere, and nothing could be found that looked as though it had been touched in some time.

In an old cupboard they found a box of nails of all sizes, and this gave Garry an idea. Cutting his bandanna handkerchiefs in strips, he doubled them up, until he had oblong pieces about two inches in width and four in length. Then he removed the shutter entirely, and fastened the cloth hinges he had made to it. While the others held the shutter in place again, he fastened the other ends of the crude hinges to the top of the window casing. A piece of string from his pocket was utilized to hold it tight against the bottom of the sill.

"You see, this string holds the shutter in place, and from the outside no one would ever suspect that it had been touched. You see I've used a window that is not in view of the shack. Now should it become necessary for any reason to leave this place in a hurry, a sharp push will break the strings that holds the shutter in at the bottom, and pushing out the shutter, it's only a matter of seconds in getting out. Then you can use your legs in getting clear of the vicinity," explained Garry.

At the opposite end of the shack, in a shutter, was pierced a peephole that commanded a view of the door of the shack that the boys believed was the one used by the occupant or occupants of the building.

"There, everything is set. You chaps hike, and then Dick is to return at noon to relieve me, leaving Phil the first watch tomorrow morning," ordered Garry.

Garry's watch was unavailing, for when Dick came at noon he had nothing to report. It was arranged that no one should come for Dick, but that he should be back as soon after dusk set in as possible. In order to be sure of Dick's safety, it was agreed that if he were not back by eight o'clock the others should come and see what was up, or if anything was the trouble.

Dick turned up at the lean-to just as dark set in, and reported that there was nothing stirring.

The boys were almost of the opinion that the whole business was a wild goose chase, but Phil was determined to take a hand at watching, and it was agreed that he should stand the morning watch, and be joined at noon by the others, who would finish the day together.

In case nothing developed they would put an end to the watching and start for Umculos Lake the following morning.

Phil started for his post the next morning. As he went, he said:

"I've a hunch something breaks this morning, hope my hunch comes true."

He had been gone not much more than an hour when he came tearing back, just catching the others as they were setting out on a short hike into a new and unexplored part of the woods.

"The mysterious occupant has come, and guess who it is!" he shouted.

"LeBlanc?" questioned Garry.

"The tramps?" hazarded Dick.

"Both wrong. It's the chap who was in the room with the old man in that house in Bangor. The one who got away with the missing portion of the map!"



"Well, talk about luck!" shouted Dick. "Let's dig back there as fast as we can, and rescue the missing portion of the map. He cannot have found the mine, for his part of the map was as useless to him as the part you have, Phil, was to us."

This seemed to be the best course to pursue, for the missing portion of the map was Phil's by every right, legally and morally, and they felt they had a right to pursue any tactics to get it back in their possession.

Without waiting to make any special plans, they secured their rifles and hatchets, but dispensed with their knapsacks, and left post haste for the old logging camp.

So fast was their hike that they were almost breathless when they arrived within sight of it.

Calling a halt, Garry bade them get their breath back, and then proposed a council to see what was to be done.

"I think it would be a good idea to try and pry off that window shutter. One of us can stand guard at the front door, the other at the rear, and the third can play with the window. In that way we can cover all retreat. There is a possibility of his being armed, of course, but that is a chance that we must take," suggested Phil.

"I think I know a better scheme than that," interrupted Garry. "What do you do when a coon takes refuge from the dogs in a tree?"

Both of his hearers were silent for a moment, and then Dick burst out:

"Why, you smoke him out of course!"

"Exactly. That is what I propose to do with this fellow."

They gathered a quantity of dry brush, and then proceeded to wet a portion of it in the spring.

"What are we going to do about letting it down the chimney? If we drop it all the way to the fireplace the chap can put it out, and if we use a piece of lariat, it will burn it off," said Phil.

"I thought of that, and have a solution for you. When Dick and I started for our hike, or rather were about to start when you came back with the news, we thought we might climb a tree or two, and so we put some wire in our pockets to use for a ring in climbing. That will work like a charm and drive him out in no time," answered Garry.

The wet and dry brush was rolled into a sort of a bundle, care being taken so that there was enough dry wood and twigs to catch fire properly. When these had caught fire, the wet brush would burn less easily, and cause a thick acrid smoke to be given off.

The bundle was then secured with a piece of the wire, while the other was attached to it by an end. At the other end of the free wire, a hook was bent, so that it could be hung over the edge of the chimney, allowing the smoking bundle to drop about two feet down the chimney.

"I'm counting on this chap thinking that the shack may be on fire, and will not investigate the chimney and try to pull the bundle down," said Garry, "so we must make no more noise than is absolutely necessary."

Cautiously they approached the house, and here Dick and Garry, being the heaviest, formed a sort of a human ladder and allowed Phil to mount to their shoulders. It was then easy for him to clamber noiselessly to the roof.

The bundle of brush was thrown up to him, and then they stripped their coats off and tossed these to him. The coats were to lay over the top of the chimney and keep the smoke from following its natural course upward.

In a few moments the bundle of brush was afire and in the chimney.

"Now we'll get action in a little while," opined Garry.

He was not mistaken, for in a minute they heard the sound of some one hurriedly groping at the fastenings of the back door. They raised their rifles and trained them on the door.

Phil had slipped down from the top of the roof and joined them, making a sizable force to greet the illegal owner of the piece of map they so much desired.

The door was thrown open and the man dashed out, to stare in a bewildered manner at the tree. Upon Garry's sharp order, he elevated his hands skyward and then asked what they wanted.

"We want a certain piece of paper that you got away with a few nights ago in an old boarding house on Canal street in Bangor," said Phil. "Out with it!"

A cunning look crept into the man's eyes, which Garry did not fail to detect.

"I threw it away right after I left the house, because I didn't know what it was all about or whether it was any good," he declared.

"I don't believe you," said Garry promptly. "Dick and Phil, you keep your guns trained on him. I'm going to slide through his pockets."

At these words, the man involuntarily looked down at his chest. Garry noted this glance, and immediately decided that the search would not have to go further than the two pockets in the woollen shirt the man was wearing.

The two boys closed in on him, with their rifles-pointing directly at his head, while Garry advanced to look through the shirt pockets. The man looked for a moment as though he were about to resist, but the sight of the two rifles made him use common sense.

The first pocket revealed nothing, but in the second was an old envelope, and in this was a piece of paper which at a glance was recognized as the missing portion of the map. With this in his hands, Garry backed away.

"Now," he said sharply, "this belongs to us. It was given by the dying man to our chum here. We are not going to give you in custody, for the coroner found that the man had not died by foul play. However, if we catch sight of you again, you will be seized and given to the authorities, and a charge of theft of this paper from us will be lodged against you. Now dig out of here. You have three minutes before we shoot. Forward, march!"

"Can I get my blanket?" asked the man.

"Certainly, and anything else you have in the shack, only we'll go in with you while you get it," answered Garry.

Sullenly the man went in and got his blanket and what tinned food there was left, also a hand axe which he stuck in his belt. He had no weapon other than a wicked hunting knife, and this he was allowed to keep. Muttering threats under his breath, he left the shack, and started slowly up the trail to the town, stopping once or twice to look back and shake his fist meantime to see if the boys meant business. Finally Garry lifted his rifle and sent a shot whistling several feet over the man's head. Immediately he put on a burst of speed that didn't decrease until he was far out of sight.

"That's that. I think we have seen the last of him," said Garry.

As a matter of fact, this was the last they saw of him, for he never stopped until he reached the station, where he hid until he had a chance to steal a ride on the rods of a freight train.

Back at the lean-to, they pieced the map together again, and were able to find the second missing location. According to the remainder of the note, mark number two consisted of three great stumps, close together in triangular form. The directions were to dig between them, where the secret of the mine would be disclosed.

Garry fished out a map of the State, and found that the Shohela river ran not more than forty miles away. The town of Jennings was marked, and proved to be a small village, deserted almost in the summer, for the tourists had not penetrated to that section, but quite a center in the winter for lumberjacks coming and going to their work in the woods.

The river itself was used for the log drives in the spring. Somewhere above was the bend in the river, from where they could guide their steps until they found the secret mine. Just what kind of a mine it would prove to be, none of the boys had any idea. It would hardly be silver or gold, for there never had been one found in that State. They thought there was a chance of there being copper, as in Wisconsin there were great copper mines.

Figuring out their course, they decided to start that afternoon, and by easy marching, arrive at Jennings late the following day.

They repacked their knapsacks, using part of the food they had stored in the tree cache, and then left the remainder of it in the lean-to with a note addressed to old Dud, saying he could have it, and bidding him goodbye for the time being.

They intended to come back after they had found or failed to find the lost mine and say goodbye to the Everetts.

After a march of about five hours, they camped under the trees for the night, and were soon eating a supper cooked over the open campfire. For safety's sake they kept sentry duty up through the night, not fearing anyone in particular, but with the idea that an ounce of prevention was worth a pound of cure.

After breakfast they took up the march again, stopping an hour for lunch, and then resuming the journey, reached Jennings just at sunset.

"Let's dodge the town altogether for the present, and go around it, and find a spot where we can camp for the night. Then in the morning we can follow the river up its course till we come to the bend mentioned in the note on the back of the map," suggested Dick.

This suggestion met with the approval of the others, and so they circled Jennings, and found a desirable place to sleep and eat.

Sun-up found them awake, and after a hasty breakfast, so anxious were they to find the mine, they made for the river bank, without losing time.

Up the river they went, getting more and more excited with each step. A walk of less than an hour brought them to what was unmistakably the bend in the river that was the first mark noted in the note. Here, using the sun as a guide, they proceeded east for the necessary two miles. True enough, here was a ravine, small enough, but still a ravine. The region was only sparsely wooded, and the boys knew enough about geology, which they studied the preceding winter at school, to know that the formation of the land in that section was quite rocky, there being evidence of much granite.

"You don't suppose the old chap that fixed that note was mixed in his terms through ignorance, and meant that there was a good granite quarry there, do you?" asked Dick dubiously.

"Never can tell," answered Garry. "Only thing to do is follow directions and see what happens."

Following directions, they paced about a mile and a half, keeping a sharp lookout for the triangle of stumps. To make sure they would not miss it, they deployed and marched about twenty paces distant from each other. Phil was the one to spy the landmark. His shouts brought the others running to him.

"Let's dig, and dig quick," pleaded Phil. "I want to see if we've found a fortune, or are only the victims of a practical joke, or gigantic hoax."

The others were as curious as he, and using their axes, as a sort of combined pick and shovel, dug away at the ground surrounded by the stumps. In a few minutes, Phil's axe struck something hard, and abandoning his axe, he scratched the earth away with his fingers. The hard something was a tin can, evidently, about which had been wound several feet of tape such as is used to repair bicycle punctures and such. Fishing his knife from his pocket, Phil proceeded to cut away the taping, while the others, with bated breath, awaited the result of the find. It took some minutes to scrape and cut away the hardened tape, but at last it was accomplished.

Tearing the cover from the can, they found an old envelope, which was soon opened, disclosing a letter, written in the same cramped hand as was the note whose directions had guided them there. It said:

"One hundred paces due east from here is a sharp ridge of granite, that projects above ground for nearly thirty feet. After the granite enters the ground, there the treasure begins. I know it is there, for I have been a miner all my life, and know geology as well as though I had gotten it out of books. The granite ridge is rich in quartz and in tourmalines. I got some out and had them cut and polished, and they are the finest ever found in Maine. This secrecy is necessary, due to the fact that a partner who went back on me has tried to wrest the secret from me, also the fact that I must wait until I can buy the land the ridge is on from its owners."

The three boys stared at each other.

"Tourmalines," said Garry. "Why, those are the semi-precious stones known as the State of Maine gem. They are delicate pink and green, and when cut make beautiful stones for jewelry. Don't you chaps recollect the ring my mother wears? Well, that is a pink tourmaline. As far as I know, they are found in only three other places in the State. If there is any quantity of them, there is a neat sum of money to be made by mining them. Let's go and look at the ridge and see if we can see anything, although I doubt it, since they are under ground and we have nothing to dig properly with, neither have we geologists' hammers or blasting powder to shelve off parts of the ledge. Also, we don't own this land, and would be liable under the law as trespassers."

They paced their way to where the ridge was, and looked at it carefully. It gave evidence of having been blasted two or three times, but they could see nothing that looked like the matrices of the tourmaline gems.

"Well, we know all about it, and can find it again, so I move we destroy all notes about it, and telegraph Dad to see if he can find out who owns this. He will know, because you see at no little distance from here begins timberland, and he knows who owns most of the big tracts. Phil, you are in luck."

"Why me?" asked Phil in surprise.

"Because the old fellow made you his legatee by his spoken last will and testament. All that remains is for you to buy about an acre of this ground for your operations, and get busy mining," answered Garry.

"Not by a long shot. We've shared our dangers together. Twice you boys have rescued me from death, and this mine will remain a secret for someone else to find out about unless you fellows go in on a share and share alike basis. I mean that, absolutely flat, and won't listen to any discussion or debate about it," declared Phil in resolute tones.

Both Dick and Garry attempted to argue with him, but he was firm and at last they agreed. At first it was decided to call it the Ranger Mine, and then Phil, with a nudge at Dick, proposed that they call it the Ruth Mine, and give her the first gem taken out, as a testimonial for the help she had given them in their quest for the smugglers. Garry reddened like a beet, and thought he was being joshed, but seeing Phil was serious, they voted it to be so.

"Now back to Jennings and the telegraph office, and start the ball rolling for the purchase of some of that land, and then maybe we win a fortune, and again perhaps we don't, but it's worth a chance," said Garry.



They found that they could send a telegram from the railroad depot, and so Garry addressed the following query to his father:

"Can you find out immediately who owns land about five miles west of Jennings, just at edge of what appears to be big lumber tract. If not, can you refer us to someone in Jennings who knows? Important, rush answer. GARRY."

"Now all we can do is wait for the answer. In the meantime, let's look around the town a bit," said Garry.

This they did, but found little to see. They did not care to inquire about the ownership of land from anyone in the town, as it would mean dodging the questions of the curious natives of the little village.

Several trips were made to the station, and finally they got an answer. It said:

"I do. Why? FATHER."

The boys did a war dance on the platform, giving the station agent good cause to think they were a little bit touched in the head.

Garry immediately sent the following telegram:

"Have made important discovery. Do not under any circumstances, please, sell the land till you get letter from us, which leaves today. "GARRY."

Borrowing Dick's ever ready notebook, and tearing out several of the pages, Garry wrote a long note telling of the discovery and asking that they be allowed to buy an acre of the land, since they had discovered the mine, or if they couldn't buy an acre for any reason, that they be allowed to purchase the mineral rights, and lease enough land for operations. He told his father to address him at Hobart, care of John Everett.

The letter was dispatched special delivery, and then Garry said:

"It will take this letter at least two days to reach Dad, and by that time we will be back in Hobart. Then it will take two days for the letter to get back, perhaps three, and we can have a bit of a vacation in that time, and get a better look at Hobart and see something of the town."

"And see something of the pretty little granddaughter too," said Phil in a low tone to Dick.

"I wish you fellows would stop ragging me about that. I think she's nice and pretty and all that, but why try and make a romance? Why, we're nothing but boys yet, plenty of time to think of love and romance after school and college," protested Garry, blushing.

"Course you're only a boy, but that doesn't stop you greatly admiring the young lady, and of course Phil and I are only boys, but that doesn't mean that we don't have eyes and brains in our head and don't see through you like a piece of glass," and the fat boy laughed till his sides shook, at the blushing face of his good chum.

"Well, that's enough of that. Let's take a good chunk out of the journey back to Hobart today, and get there by mid-afternoon tomorrow. Let's fill our canteens and get going," ordered the leader.

The return trip was made without any unusual event, and they repaired at once to the Everett home, where Ruth and her grandfather were told of the discovery, under the pledge of secrecy.

The young lady was evidently more than pleased about the mine being named for her. Mr. Everett was as right as a trivet again, barring the fact that his arm was of course still in bandages and splints.

For the next two days they hiked about the country, with Mr. Everett as guide, of course accompanied by Ruth, and heard many tales of that section in the early days.

Finally the long-looked-for letter came, and as it bears on the succeeding adventures of the boys, it will be given:


"As I told you in the telegram, I own that land. I have a wide strip there for a right of way for that timber tract to the river. Of course you boys may have it, but I suggest that you lease it and the mineral rights. I will sell you the lease for one dollar, just to make it legal, and the mineral rights I freely give you three boys as a present in pay for something that you are going to do for me very shortly. It will necessitate getting a leave of absence from the Ranger Service, but I can arrange that. Meet me in Bangor, as soon as possible, at the Bangor House.

"I will be waiting your arrival. I cannot tell you much about it now, except that you may have a chance to play a part in a big timber war. All this will be explained to you when I see you. Congratulations from all of us in your success in the smuggler capture. The Chief has written all about it to me.

As ever, "DAD."

"Hurrah! Here's a chance for new adventures. We'll take the next train and be on our way. Boys, this is some summer. Fires and captures and smugglers and a treasure mine discovered, and now a timber war. All aboard," shouted Dick.

Bidding the Everetts goodbye, and promising to keep in constant touch with them, they went to the station, where, luckily, a train was soon due.

Of the stirring adventures of the boys in the great timber country, and how they circumvented a group of timber thieves who were bent on ruining Mr. Boone, and more about LeBlanc, will be told in the next book, Volume Four of the Ranger Boys, entitled, "THE RANGER BOYS OUTWIT THE TIMBER THIEVES."


* * * * *

The Ranger Boys Series


A new series of copyright titles telling of the adventures of three boys with the Forest Rangers in the state of Maine.

Handsome Cloth Binding.


* * * * *






* * * * *

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers.


114-120 East 23rd Street, New York

The Radio Boys Series


A new series of copyright titles for boys of all ages.

Cloth Bound, with Attractive Cover Designs


* * * * *






* * * * *

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers



The Boy Troopers Series


Author of the Famous "Boy Allies" Series.

The adventures of two boys with the Pennsylvania State Police.

All Copyrighted Titles.

Cloth Bound, with Attractive Cover Designs.


* * * * *





* * * * *

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers.


114-120 East 23rd Street, New York

The Golden Boys Series


Dean of Pennsylvania Military College.

A new series of instructive copyright stories for boys of High School Age.

Handsome Cloth Binding.


* * * * *






For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers.

* * * * *


114-120 East 23rd Street, New York

The Boy Scouts Series


For Boys 12 to 16 Years

All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles


New Stories of Camp Life

* * * * *

THE BOY SCOUTS' FIRST CAMPFIRE; or, Scouting with the Silver Fox Patrol

THE BOY SCOUTS IN THE BLUE RIDGE; or, Marooned Among the Moonshiners.

THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL; or, Scouting through the Big Game Country.

THE BOY SCOUTS IN THE MAINE WOODS; or The New Test for the Silver Fox Patrol.

THE BOY SCOUTS THROUGH THE BIG TIMBER; or, The Search for the Lost Tenderfoot.

THE BOY SCOUTS IN THE ROCKIES; or, The Secret of the Hidden Silver Mine.

THE BOY SCOUTS ON STURGEON ISLAND; or, Marooned Among the Game-Fish Poachers.

THE BOY SCOUTS DOWN IN DIXIE; or, The Strange Secret of Alligator Swamp.

THE BOY SCOUTS AT THE BATTLE OF SARATOGA; A story of Burgoyne's Defeat in 1777.

THE BOY SCOUTS ALONG THE SUSQUEHANNA; or, The Silver Fox Patrol Caught in a Flood.

THE BOY SCOUTS ON WAR TRAILS IN BELGIUM; or, Caught Between Hostile Armies.

THE BOY SCOUTS AFOOT IN FRANCE; or, With The Red Cross Corps at the Marne.

* * * * *

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers



The Boy Allies

(Registered in the United States Patent Office)

With the Navy


For Boys 12 to 16 Years.

All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles


Frank Chadwick and Jack Templeton, young American lads, meet each other in an unusual way soon after the declaration of war. Circumstances place them on board the British cruiser, "The Sylph," and from there on, they share adventures with the sailors of the Allies. Ensign Robert L. Drake, the author, is an experienced naval officer, and he describes admirably the many exciting adventures of the two boys.

THE BOY ALLIES ON THE NORTH SEA PATROL; or, Striking the First Blow at the German Fleet.

THE BOY ALLIES UNDER TWO FLAGS; or, Sweeping the Enemy from the Sea.

THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE FLYING SQUADRON; or, The Naval Raiders of the Great War.

THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE TERROR OF THE SEA; or, The Last Shot of Submarine D-16.

THE BOY ALLIES UNDER THE SEA; or, The Vanishing Submarine.

THE BOY ALLIES IN THE BALTIC; or, Through Fields of Ice to Aid the Czar.

THE BOY ALLIES AT JUTLAND; or, The Greatest Naval Battle of History.

THE BOY ALLIES WITH UNCLE SAM'S CRUISERS; or, Convoying the American Army Across the Atlantic.

THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE SUBMARINE D-32; or, The Fall of the Russian Empire.


For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers

* * * * *



The Boy Allies

(Registered in the United States Patent Office)

With the Army


For Boys 12 to 16 Years.

All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles


In this series we follow the fortunes of two American lads unable to leave Europe after war is declared. They meet the soldiers of the Allies, and decide to cast their lot with them. Their experiences and escapes are many, and furnish plenty of good, healthy action that every boy loves.

THE BOY ALLIES AT LIEGE; or, Through Lines of Steel.

THE BOY ALLIES ON THE FIRING LINE; or, Twelve Days Battle Along the Marne.

THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE COSSACKS; or, A Wild Dash Over the Carpathians.

THE BOY ALLIES IN THE TRENCHES; or, Midst Shot and Shell Along the Aisne.

THE BOY ALLIES IN GREAT PERIL; or, With the Italian Army in the Alps.

THE BOY ALLIES IN THE BALKAN CAMPAIGN; or, The Struggle to Save a Nation.

THE BOY ALLIES ON THE SOMME; or, Courage and Bravery Rewarded.

THE BOY ALLIES AT VERDUN; or, Saving France from the Enemy.

THE BOY ALLIES UNDER THE STARS AND STRIPES; or, Leading the American Troops to the Firing Line.

THE BOY ALLIES WITH HAIG IN FLANDERS; or, The Fighting Canadians of Vimy Ridge.

THE BOY ALLIES WITH PERSHING IN FRANCE; or, Over the Top at Chateau Thierry.

THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE GREAT ADVANCE; or, Driving the Enemy Through France and Belgium.

THE BOY ALLIES WITH MARSHAL FOCH; or, The Closing Days of the Great World War.

* * * * *

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers



The Jack Lorimer Series


For Boys 12 to 16 Years.

All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles


* * * * *

CAPTAIN JACK LORIMER; or, The Young Athlete of Millvale High.

Jack Lorimer is a fine example of the all-around American high-school boys. His fondness for clean, honest sport of all kinds will strike a chord of sympathy among athletic youths.

JACK LORIMER'S CHAMPIONS; or, Sports on Land and Lake.

There is a lively story woven in with the athletic achievements, which are all right, since the book has been O. K'd. by Chadwick, the Nestor of American Sporting journalism.

JACK LORIMER'S HOLIDAYS; or, Millvale High in Camp.

It would be well not to put this book into a boy's hands until the chores are finished, otherwise they might be neglected.

JACK LORIMER'S SUBSTITUTE; or, The Acting Captain of the Team.

On the sporting side, this book takes up football, wrestling, and tobogganing. There is a good deal of fun in this book and plenty of action.

JACK LORIMER, FRESHMAN; or, From Millvale High to Exmouth.

Jack and some friends he makes crowd innumerable happenings into an exciting freshman year at one of the leading Eastern colleges. The book is typical of the American college boy's life, and there is a lively story, interwoven with feats on the gridiron, hockey, basketball and other clean honest sports for which Jack Lorimer stands.

* * * * *

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers



Our Young Aeroplane Scout Series

(Registered in the United States Patent Office)


For Boys 12 to 16 Years.

All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles


* * * * *

A Series of Remarkable Stories of the Adventures of Two Boy Flyers in The European War Zone.

OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN FRANCE AND BELGIUM; or, Saving The Fortunes of the Trouvilles.


OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN RUSSIA; or, Lost on the Frozen Steppes.

OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN TURKEY; or, Bringing the Light to Yusef.

OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN ENGLAND; or, Twin Stars In the London Sky Patrol.

OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN ITALY; or, Flying with the War Eagles of the Alps.

OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS AT VERDUN; or, Driving Armored Meteors Over Flaming Battle Fronts.

OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN THE BALKANS; or, Wearing the Red Badge of Courage Among Warring Legions.

OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN THE WAR ZONE; or, Serving Uncle Sam in the Great Cause of the Allies.

OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS FIGHTING TO THE FINISH; or Striking Hard Over the Sea for the Stars and Stripes.

OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS AT THE MARNE; or, Hurrying the Huns from Allied Battle Planes.

OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN AT THE VICTORY; or, Speedy High Flyers Smashing the Hindenburg Line.

* * * * *

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers



The Boy Spies Series

These stories are based on important historical events, scenes wherein boys are prominent characters being selected. They are the romance of history, vigorously told, with careful fidelity to picturing the home life, and accurate in every particular.


* * * * *


A story of the part they took in its defence. By William P. Chipman.


A boy's story of Wheeling Creek in 1777. By James Otis.


A story of two boys at the siege of Boston. By James Otis.


A story of two Ohio boys in the War of 1812. By James Otis.


The story of how two boys joined the Continental Army. By James Otis.


The story of two young spies under Commodore Barney. By James Otis.


The story of how the boys assisted the Carolina Patriots to drive the British from that State. By James Otis.


The story of General Marion and his young spies. By James Otis.


The story of how the spies helped General Lafayette in the Siege of Yorktown. By James Otis.


The story of how the young spies helped the Continental Army at Valley Forge. By James Otis.


The story of the part they took in its brave defence. By William P. Chipman.


The story of how the young spies prevented the capture of General Washington. By James Otis.

* * * * *

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers. A. L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 East 23d Street, New York.

The Navy Boys Series

A series of excellent stories of adventure on sea and land, selected from the works of popular writers; each volume designed for boys' reading.


* * * * *


A story of the burning of the British schooner Gaspee in 1772. By William P. Chipman.


A story of the Whale Boat Navy of 1776. By James Otis.


Being the experience of three boys serving under Israel Putnam in 1772. By James Otis.


A boy's story of the siege of Vicksburg. By James Otis.


A boy's story of a cruise with the Great Commodore in 1776. By James Otis.


The story of two boys and their adventures in the War of 1813. By James Otis.


A boy's story of privateering in 1780. By James Otis.


A story of three boys who took command of the schooner "The Laughing Mary," the first vessel of the American Navy. By James Otis.


The story of a remarkable cruise with the Sloop of War "Providence" and the Frigate "Alfred." By William P. Chipman.


The story of how the navy boys helped to capture the British Cutter "Margaretta," in 1775. By William P. Chipman.


The adventures of two Yankee Middies with the first cruise of an American Squadron in 1775. By William P. Chipman.


The adventures of two boys who sailed with the great Admiral in his discovery of America. By Frederick A. Ober.

The Girl Comrade's Series



A carefully selected series of books for girls, written by popular authors. These are charming stones for young girls, well told and full of interest. Their simplicity, tenderness, healthy, interesting motives vigorous action, and character painting will please all girl readers.



ALL ABOARD. A Story For Girls. By Fanny E. Newberry.

ALMOST A GENIUS. A Story For Girls. By Adelaide L. Rouse.

ANNICE WYNKOOP, Artist. Story of a Country Girl. By Adelaide L. Rouse.

BUBBLES. A Girl's Story. By Fannie E. Newberry.

COMRADES. By Fannie E. Newberry.

DEANE GIRLS, THE. A Home Story. By Adelaide L. Rouse.


JOYCE'S INVESTMENTS. A Story For Girls. By Fannie E. Newberry.

MELLICENT RAYMOND. A Story For Girls. By Fannie E. Newberry.

MISS ASHTON'S NEW PUPIL. A School Girl's Story. By Mrs. S. S. Robbins.

NOT FOR PROFIT. A Story For Girls. By Fannie E. Newberry.

ODD ONE, THE. A Story For Girls. By Fannie E. Newberry.

SARA, A PRINCESS. A Story For Girls. By Fannie E. Newberry.

* * * * *

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers. A. L. BURT COMPANY. 114-120 East 23d Street. New York.

The Girl Chum's Series



A carefully selected series of books for girls, written by popular authors. These are charming stories for young girls, well told and full of interest. Their simplicity, tenderness, healthy, interesting motives, vigorous action, and character painting will please all girl readers.


BENHURST, CLUB, THE. By Howe Benning.


BILLOW PRAIRIE. A Story of Life in the Great West By Joy Allison.

DUXBERRY DOINGS. A New England Story. By Caroline B. Le Row.

FUSSBUDGET'S FOLKS. A Story For Young Girls. By Anna F. Burnham.

HAPPY DISCIPLINE, A. By Elizabeth Cummings.

JOLLY TEN, THE; and Their Year of Stories. By Agnes Carr Sage.

KATIE ROBERTSON. A Girl's Story of Factory Life. By M. E. Winslow.

LONELY HILL. A Story For Girls. By M. L. Thornton-Wilder.

MAJORIBANKS. A Girl's Story. By Elvirton Wright


MISS ELLIOT'S GIRLS. A Story For Young Girls. By Mary Spring Corning.

MISS MALCOLM'S TEN. A Story For Girls. By Margaret E. Winslow.

ONE GIRL'S WAY OUT. By Howe Benning.

PEN'S VENTURE. By Elvirton Wright.

RUTH PRENTICE. A Story For Girls. By Marion Thorne.

THREE YEARS AT GLENWOOD. A Story of School Life. By M. E. Winslow.

* * * * *

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers. A. L. BURT COMPANY. 114-120 East 23d Street. New York.

The Girl Scouts Series


A new copyright series of Girl Scouts stories by an author of wide experience in Scouts' craft, as Director of Girl Scouts of Philadelphia.

Clothbound, with Attractive Color Designs.


* * * * *






* * * * *

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers.


114-120 East 23rd Street, New York

Marjorie Dean College Series


Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean High School Series.

Those who have read the Marjorie Dean High School Series will be eager to read this new series, as Marjorie Dean continues to be the heroine in these stories.

All Clothbound. Copyright Titles.


* * * * *





* * * * *

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers.


114-120 East 23rd Street, New York

Marjorie Dean High School Series


Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean College Series

These are clean, wholesome stories that will be of great interest to all girls of high school age.

All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles


* * * * *





* * * * *

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers



The Camp Fire Girls Series


A Series of Outdoor Stories for Girls 12 to 16 Years.

All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles


* * * * *

THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN THE MAINE WOODS; or, The Winnebagos go Camping.

THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT SCHOOL; or, The Wohelo Weavers.


THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS GO MOTORING; or, Along the Road That Leads the Way.

THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' LARKS AND PRANKS; or, The House of the Open Door.

THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON ELLEN'S ISLE; or, The Trail of the Seven Cedars.


THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS DO THEIR BIT; or, Over the Top with the Winnebagos.

THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS SOLVE A MYSTERY; or, The Christmas Adventure at Carver House.


* * * * *

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers



The Blue Grass Seminary Girls Series


For Girls 12 to 16 Years

All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles


Splendid stories of the Adventures of a Group of Charming Girls.

* * * * *



THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS IN THE MOUNTAINS; or, Shirley Willing on a Mission of Peace.

THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS ON THE WATER; or, Exciting Adventures on a Summerer's Cruise Through the Panama Canal.

* * * * *

The Mildred Series


For Girls 12 to 16 Years.

All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles


A Companion Series to the famous "Elsie" books by the same author.

* * * * *








* * * * *

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the Publishers




Previous Part     1  2  3
Home - Random Browse