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If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Straight to the Goal; - Or, Nick Carter’s Queer Challenge - -Author: Nick Carter - -Editor: Chickering Carter - -Release Date: October 7, 2021 [eBook #66486] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: David Edwards, Nahum Maso i Carcases, and the Online - Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net - (Northern Illinois University Digital Library) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STRAIGHT TO THE GOAL; *** - - - - - Transcriber’s Notes: - -The original spelling, hyphenation, and punctuation have been retained, -with the exception of apparent typographical errors which have been -corrected. - -Text in Italics is indicated between _underscores_ whereas bold text is -denoted by =equal signs=. Text in small capitals has been replaced by -regular uppercase text. - - * * * * * - - - - - NICK CARTER - STORIES - - - _=Issued Weekly.= Entered as Second-class Matter at the New York Post - Office, by_ STREET & SMITH, _79-89 Seventh Ave., New York_. - - _Copyright, 1915, by_ STREET & SMITH. _O.G. Smith and G.C. Smith, - Proprietors._ - - - Terms to NICK CARTER STORIES Mail Subscribers. - - (_Postage Free._) - - Single Copies or Back Numbers, 5c. Each. - - 3 months 65c. One year $2.50 - 4 months 85c. 2 copies one year 4.00 - 6 months $1.25 1 copy two years 4.00 - - =How to Send Money=—By post-office or express money order, registered - letter, bank check or draft, at our risk. At your own risk if sent - by currency, coin, or postage stamps in ordinary letter. - - =Receipts=—Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper - change of number on your label. If not correct you have not been - properly credited, and should let us know at once. - - - =No. 135.= NEW YORK, April 10, 1915. =Price Five Cents.= - - - - - STRAIGHT TO THE GOAL; - - Or, NICK CARTER’S QUEER CHALLENGE. - - Edited by CHICKERING CARTER. - - - - - CHAPTER I. - - THE MESSAGE OF THE SPEAR. - - -A spear shot into the midst of the camp, and stuck, quivering, in the -ground! - -Patsy Garvan and Chick jumped to their feet, rifle in hand, and looked -inquiringly at Nick Carter. - -The detective had not moved. He was sitting with his back against a -rock, a cigar in his mouth, and silently contemplating the small fire -that he had consented to have made. - -When the spear came sailing over the bluff, at the foot of which was -the little camp, he merely glanced at it, as if it were a rather -curious visitor, but not one to cause untoward agitation. - -There were other persons around the camp fire besides Nick Carter and -his two assistants. - -Jefferson Arnold, the millionaire shipowner of New York and Calcutta; -Jai Singh, the high-caste Hindu, who had proved himself so valuable an -ally to Nick Carter, and Adil, also an East Indian, the body servant of -Jefferson Arnold’s son, Leslie, all were sitting there. - -The men started up when the spear came sailing over the rocks and -buried its heavy metal head in the ground just before them. - -“That thing might have hit some of us,” cried Jefferson Arnold. “Better -look out! There may be others.” - -“I hardly think so,” was Nick Carter’s calm response. “That is a -message only, unless I am much mistaken. Don’t you see there is -something tied around the wooden shaft just below the head. Looks like -a bit of cloth.” - -He stepped forward, and, with a sharp tug, drew the spear from the -hard earth. Then he unwound from it a silk necktie of a rather unusual -pattern. - -“It is Leslie’s!” shouted Jefferson Arnold wildly, as he held out his -hand for the tie. “I never saw one like it except on my son. He had it -on when we were in that city yonder.” - -“I remember it,” answered Nick, looking at the curious combination of -colors thoughtfully. “It struck me as unique, and yet in perfect taste. -Still, probably there are others like it in the world.” - -“Perhaps. But it isn’t likely others would have these initials -embroidered on the back of it,” rejoined Jefferson. “See! ‘L.A.’ No, -Carter, this is my boy’s necktie, and he is in the hands of those -rapscallions over there.” - -The father buried his face in his hands, and rocked to and fro -convulsively. - -“Well, even so, what is the meaning of the spear coming over the rocks -like this?” asked Patsy. - -“There can be only one meaning,” returned Nick Carter. “Calaman, the -high priest of that strange city, Shangore, sends us this necktie to -let us know he has Leslie Arnold a prisoner.” - -“Why did we ever come away without making sure he was safe?” groaned -Jefferson Arnold. “It was my fault. My boy will think we have deserted -him.” - -“No,” contradicted Nick. “He will know better than that. He will -understand just how it was. In the darkness, when we escaped from that -city, we thought he was with us. You will remember we had quite a -tussle on the drawbridge, and got off only just in time. It looks now -as if Leslie must have been caught when they pulled up the bridge.” - -“I suppose so,” assented the millionaire. “But what are we going to -do?” he wailed. “What do you suppose this message means? Do you think -the necktie was sent just to taunt us?” - -The agony of this usually self-contained man was pitiful. - -An answer came in an unexpected way at this moment. Another spear -dropped upon the rocks a little way off and lay flat. It had not been -so skillfully discharged as the first one, but it also bore its -message—this time in writing. - -The characters were more like those of ancient Greece than the letters -used by English-speaking people to-day, and the spelling was phonetic. -But it was possible to make them out, with a little study. - -“This says ‘You are all invited to Shangore,’” announced Nick Carter, -after examining the note for a few minutes. “Here is a small sketch of -the head and face of Calaman in the corner. In lieu of a signature, I -suppose. It is written on some kind of parchment. Probably the people -of Shangore have not mastered the art of making paper.” - -“Many letters are written on skin of this kind,” remarked Jai Singh -quietly, as he took the scrap of material from Nick Carter’s hand and -rubbed it between his fingers. “And yet paper is made in many parts of -India, too.” - -“That is all unimportant,” interrupted Jefferson Arnold impatiently. -“What are we going to do about it? How are we going to save my boy?” - -“What do you want to do?” asked Nick. - -“Go,” was the prompt reply. - -“That’s what I say,” put in Patsy. “If Leslie is in that heathen city, -we’ve got to get him out.” - -“It may mean death, remember, Patsy!” suggested Nick Carter. - -His impulsive young assistant actually jumped in the air and cracked -his heels together, as one of his ancestors might have done at -Donnybrook Fair, generations before, when a challenge was thrown out to -them. - -“What do we care for that?” howled Patsy. “We’ll make it hot for them -first. Anyhow, I don’t think it would mean death or anything like that. -But we’ve got to get Leslie Arnold.” - -Jefferson Arnold reached across to shake hands with Patsy. - -“Well, let us look over the situation dispassionately before we take -action,” suggested Nick. “We cannot hide from ourselves that Calaman is -a cunning and powerful personage, and that his control of the people of -that city, where they worship the Golden Scarab, is complete.” - -“I just want to get my fingers on that old geezer’s throat if he has -hurt Leslie,” muttered Patsy. - -“When we went into Shangore yesterday with Calaman and his guards, it -was as his guest,” continued Nick. “We found the rascal Pike, who had -stolen a hundred thousand dollars from the Arnold Company in Calcutta, -and who had taken refuge in Shangore, because he did not think any one -could trace him there.” - -“That was reasonable enough for him to think,” commented Chick. -“Shangore, the capital city of Bolongu, is right over here, in the -Himalayas, in a region where few white men have penetrated in many -centuries.” - -“I don’t believe any have been here till now,” put in Jai Singh, as he -looked up from polishing his spearhead with a cloth he had taken from -his garments. “At least, not for more than two or three hundred years.” - -“That’s as it may be,” observed Nick Carter. “Anyhow, we all know that -it was the intention of Calaman to hold us as prisoners, and perhaps to -kill us all eventually. That was why we got out.” - -“The only thing there was for us to do,” growled Jefferson Arnold. - -“Now he is trying to entice us in again,” said Chick. “How do we know -Leslie Arnold is in the city?” - -“Here is his necktie, sent over to us on a spear,” Nick reminded him. - -“Well, what of that? Leslie may have dropped it.” - -“No,” interposed Jefferson Arnold. “I saw that necktie tightly knotted -around his neck as we came over the drawbridge. It could not have come -off accidentally. The only way old Calaman could have got hold of it -was by having it taken from the boy’s neck. Leslie is a prisoner in -Shangore.” - -“That is my reading of it,” agreed Nick Carter. “We shall have to go -and get him out.” - -“I don’t see how we’re going to do that, even if we get into the city,” -remarked Jai Singh. “Those thick walls and the gates that no one can -pass must be kept in mind.” - -Arnold looked at the tall, dignified Hindu resentfully. - -“What are you croaking about, Jai Singh? It isn’t like you to hold back -when there is to be some fighting. Why do you oppose our going back to -Shangore?” - -“I do not oppose it, sahib,” replied Jai Singh, with dignity. “I need -not tell that I am ready to fight. My spear is sharp and my arm strong. -Besides, I have learned to use the revolver I carry in my sash. But I -know of the danger that is behind the walls of Shangore, and it is not -well that you should forget it, either.” - -“We do not forget it,” put in Nick Carter. “But we have to bring Leslie -Arnold away, and we must take whatever risks there are. Jai Singh, will -you make them understand that we will go back?” - -Jai Singh bowed in acquiescence, and, picking up his spear, was about -to go down the pass through the rocks that led to the valley, on the -opposite side of which the towers and roofs of Shangore glistened in -the early-morning sun. - -“Wait,” ordered Nick. “Where are you going?” - -“To the cliff beyond, where the men in the valley can see me.” - -“I understand. You will give them a sign that they will understand. -Well, tell them we will come at once.” - -Jai Singh bowed again, and disappeared, while Nick Carter turned to -give a few last words of advice to those with him. - -“We have been here all night,” he began, “and we are rested. We have -had a good breakfast, and are strong enough to fight.” - -“You bet!” threw in Patsy Garvan energetically. - -“It isn’t likely we shall be called on to do anything of the kind at -first,” went on Nick. “But we shall have to use our brains if we are to -come through this enterprise in safety, and also bring Leslie Arnold -with us.” - -“We put a lot of their soldiers out of business in that scrap we had -with them last night,” observed Chick. “It would be bad if Calaman -decided to revenge himself upon us for their loss.” - -“No fear of that,” put in Adil, the young Hindu, speaking for the first -time. “Calaman thinks nothing of the lives of his men. As he has said -to us, they are his slaves, and he can do what he likes with them. -He may be sorry to lose their services, but he never would think of -avenging them. They are not important enough, in his eyes.” - -“There’s truth in that, Adil,” assented Nick Carter. “We have seen how -he caused the death of one of his guards just because he stumbled and -dropped a package he was carrying. No, I dare say he will pretend to be -friendly with us, as if there never had been a fight.” - -“He’s a sly old rascal,” snorted Jefferson Arnold. “But we’ll beat him -yet. We’ve got to do it. We shall be taking a big chance going into -that walled city of his, but I’ve got to save my boy, at any risk.” - -“We will start,” announced Nick Carter. “Jai Singh has delivered our -answer by this time.” - -There was no particular preparation required before they went on. -The rifles they had laid by their sides were picked up, and the few -fragments of biscuits that had not been devoured were placed in their -pockets with the whole ones that Nick Carter’s forethought had caused -them all to carry with them. - -“We have no ammunition,” observed Nick. “But we must get hold of some -of those cartridges of ours that they took from us as soon as we are -well within Shangore. I will get the old fellow to let me show him how -we use these ‘death sticks,’ as he calls them.” - -They marched through the crooked pass between the towering walls of -rocks, and came suddenly upon Jai Singh, who was waving his spear about -so that a number of men who stood in the valley, looking up, could see -his movements without difficulty. - -“I have told them,” said Jai Singh coolly. “We can go down at once.” - -“Very well, Jai Singh,” returned the detective. “Come on, everybody. -And remember, Patsy,” he added to his second assistant, “I will do the -talking.” - - - - - CHAPTER II. - - SHARPSHOOTING. - - -When they walked across the drawbridge at the nearest of the four great -gates of the city, and passed under the portcullis, escorted by a dozen -of the guards of the high priest Calaman, the latter came forward with -a smile and bade them welcome. - -“Isn’t he the limit?” muttered Patsy. “Any one would think we were -friends of his.” - -Nick Carter gave Patsy a warning look, and addressed Calaman in calm, -firm tones: - -“Whether we are welcome or not, Calaman, is not of so much importance -as to know whether you are prepared to deliver to us the white man you -have in Shangore.” - -“My son!” broke in Jefferson Arnold. “That’s whom we want.” - -Calaman held up his hands with a deprecating gesture, as he smiled. - -“My white brothers might know that I would not ask them to come back -unless I had something to offer that would please them,” he exclaimed. -“We did not understand each other before, and that was why there was -fighting and death, when all I desired was peace and good feeling.” - -“Old liar!” murmured Chick. - -“Your former apartments in the palace are ready for you,” continued the -priest. “Will you honor me by taking possession? I will send you food -and wine. You need them after your journey. After that, we will go to -the public square.” - -“Why?” asked the detective. - -“This is the day of the Festival of the Golden Scarab,” was the reply. -“We ask you to take part in the celebration by showing us again how -the death sticks do their work. Will you not do it?” - -“Where is the white man we want—he who is the son of my friend, here?” - -Nick Carter was resolved not to be turned aside from the main purpose -of their coming, persistently as the wily priest endeavored to lead the -conversation into other channels. - -“He shall be delivered to you in good time,” answered Calaman. “In the -meanwhile, you have my assurance that he is well and enjoying treatment -such as you would desire.” - -They had to be content with this for the time being. - -“We shall be ready in half an hour,” Nick Carter announced abruptly, as -he walked away to the apartments they had occupied before. - -Calaman was as good as his word in reference to the meal he had -mentioned, and though they had had a frugal breakfast already up in -the rocks, they were quite willing to attack the well-served repast -provided for them now. - -In exactly half an hour two soldiers came to the door and made deep -salaams. - -“Very well!” was Nick Carter’s response to this silent notification. -“Lead on!” - -As they filed out of the room, Chick remarked, in a low tone, as he -glanced back at the remains of the meal on the table: - -“We’ve got to hand it to the old man for the square meal he puts up. -I don’t know what we’ve been eating, but it was as good as anything I -ever got in New York.” - -Jai Singh snorted rather derisively. - -“In my part of the country,” he boomed, “when we feed guests, we -provide fat sheep, which are roasted over a very hot fire, and put -before those who eat, with rice, raisins, and many fruits that are -gathered for the occasion.” - -“It looks to me as if these people intend us to be the sheep this -time,” smiled Nick Carter. “They intend to roast us over a hot fire—if -we let them.” - -“That’s right,” chuckled Patsy. “If we let them. Gee! There’s going to -be a hot time in their old town to-day, and we’ll be fixing the fire.” - -Nothing could repress Patsy Garvan’s bubbling spirits at the prospect -of a battle. He liked fighting for its own sake. - -The possibility of his being beaten never occurred to Patsy. That was -the reason he was nearly always on the winning side. - -The two tall guards, carrying their spears in military fashion, and -never looking behind, were several yards in front. Nick Carter turned -and addressed all the members of his little band: - -“Don’t overlook the odds against us. Our four coolies—who could -be depended on to keep up their end in a mêlée when told to drive -ahead—are prisoners somewhere in this place. Then Calaman has all our -cartridges. We can’t do much for ourselves or for Leslie till we get -hold of our ammunition.” - -“We’ll get it,” declared Patsy, with his usual confidence. - -“We’ve got to do it,” added Chick. “We are inside the walls of -Shangore, and there is nothing for us but to fight. We got out before, -and we can do it again. But, as you say, chief, we must find the -cartridges.” - -When they reached the courtyard of the palace, they found Calaman -waiting for them, surrounded by more than a score of his saturnine -guards. - -“I am glad to see you have brought your death sticks with you,” was the -priest’s greeting. “We will go to the public square, where you may show -me again how the sticks kill at a distance.” - -They marched through the streets of the city, and the white men were -struck by the large numbers of people who were moving about, evidently -in holiday dress. - -Their garments were all of Eastern style, of course, but there was so -many different cloths, cut into such varied designs, that Nick Carter -told himself he had never seen a more striking sartorial display even -on Fifth Avenue on a bright afternoon. - -“You will not kill men for me with your stick, I suppose?” asked the -priest, rather wistfully. “I could have three or four of them tied to -those stakes over there, and your death sticks could be tried on them.” - -This cold-blooded suggestion made Patsy grind his teeth. - -Nick Carter shook his head, and answered that he certainly could not -consent to do murder in that way. - -“Well, I felt sure of that,” returned the priest. “So I have something -else for you. Look!” - -Nick Carter shuddered as he gazed at the gruesome object at which -Calaman pointed. - -Between two stakes driven into the ground was strung a long rope. In -the middle of the rope was a cord hanging down a little way, and on the -end of it was the shriveled head of a human being. - -The head had been embalmed, dried, and treated in the secret way known -to the people of this strange country, and was not bigger than a -good-sized orange. - -There it hung, swaying gently to and fro in the slight breeze, -occasionally spinning around, as if it were inspecting everything in -the square in its own mysterious, grim way. - -“Can you hit that with your death stick?” asked the priest. - -“Yes,” was Nick’s prompt reply. - -“Even while it moves a little?” - -“Yes.” - -“Gee! I wouldn’t have said that,” grumbled Patsy, in a low tone. “You -might as well have had it as easy as you could get it.” - -“Then let my white brothers raise their sticks and do it,” directed -Calaman, stepping back a little. - -“One moment!” called out the detective. “Before we can use our sticks, -we must have those little brass cases that you took from us when we -were here before.” - -Two of the heavy boxes containing cartridges which had come into -possession of the priest when Nick and his party had been in the city -on the previous day were on the ground, and Nick had seen them. - -“Break open that box!” ordered Calaman, pointing to the one he meant. - -One of the guards, with his spear, pried off the lid. Nick Carter at -once took one of the smaller boxes in the outer case and stuffed it -into one of his outside pockets. - -The small box contained two hundred and fifty cartridges. - -“Get some!” he directed his comrades laconically. - -Chick, Patsy, Jefferson Arnold, Adil, and Jai Singh all obeyed. -Each was soon well supplied with cartridges, while the big box was -practically empty. - -Calaman regarded them suspiciously as they grabbed the cartridges. But -he did not say anything. Doubtless he felt that he had the whole party -in his power, and he could afford to let them have all of these little -brass things they wanted. - -“First trick to us!” mumbled Jefferson. “And my rifle magazine is plumb -full, as well. We’ll make the old scalawag sit up before we’re through -with him. Let ’er go, Carter!” - -The detective dropped to one knee, and seemingly without taking careful -aim, sent three shots at the swinging head. - -Crack! crack! crack! - -Every bullet had struck the head and was embedded in it. The process -of drying and embalming had given it a toughness which permitted the -bullets to sink in, without cracking or destroying its shape. - -“Holy mackerel!” muttered Patsy Garvan. “That’s a sickening thing. But -the chief plugged it, all the same.” - -The detective got up and brushed his knee with his hand. - -“Go and see for yourself,” he said to the priest. “I have used three of -these little cases, and you will find a bit of lead in that skull for -each one. Had three of your guards been standing there, I could have -killed them as easily as I hit that head.” - -Calaman, accompanied by two of his guards, walked across the open space -to the swinging head—it was rather more than two hundred yards from -where Nick Carter had stood to shoot—and examined it closely. - -The three bullets were there. The priest could see them plainly. There -had been no deception by the white man with the death stick. - -“Stay there, Calaman!” called out Nick. “Stand three paces to the right -of the head, and watch. The death sticks will do more than you have -already seen.” - -The priest did as he was told, with a wondering expression in his -deep-set dark eyes. The detective turned to Chick, and spoke in low, -earnest tones: - -“Blaze away at it, Chick. And be sure to hit it squarely in the middle, -if you can.” - -“I can do it,” replied Chick. “I’ll drive my first bullet farther in -with two others. How will that do?” - -“Capital, if you can manage it. I want to teach that old heathen a -lesson that will make him wonder where it is going to stop.” - -Nick Carter was pumping fresh cartridges into his own magazine as he -spoke. There should be no chance of his being caught with an unloaded -rifle while he had ammunition within reach, at all events. - -“I can manage it,” grunted Chick, as he took careful aim. “I’m glad -I’ve always kept up swinging-target practice. At some of those shooting -galleries in New York they have me barred out,” he added, with a grin. - -“Wait a moment!” roared Calaman. “I’ll come away while you are using -your death sticks. They might go the wrong way.” - -“There’s no danger if you don’t move,” Nick Carter called back to him. -“Tell your guards to keep away.” Then, to Chick: “Now, old man, show -them what you have.” - -The guards moved away in a hurry, glad of the excuse to get out of what -seemed to them a very dangerous situation. But Calaman stuck to his -place. There was no cowardice in the old priest. - -Chick was as good as his word. - -Calaman involuntarily lifted his hands in astonishment as he saw that -there was only one fresh hole, but that it went far into the skull—so -nearly through, that some of the sand with which it was tightly stuffed -filtered out at the back. - -The priest turned toward the white men, just as Nick Carter spoke -again, in a loud tone, as a new idea came to him. - -“Stand where you are,” he requested of Calaman. “I’ll show you that the -death stick can be made to strike closely without hurting anybody when -we ask it to do so.” - -Calaman stood still, as if he did not quite understand what was meant. -Then Nick fired three shots so quickly that they sounded like the roll -of a drum—one to the right, one to the left, and another a foot above -the head of the priest. All three bullets just shaved him. - -As the detective held up a hand and smiled, to indicate that it was all -over, Calaman stalked toward him. He was outwardly calm, whatever may -have been his thoughts. The old fellow was a past master in hiding his -emotions. - -“You held my life in your hands,” he said. “I saw that each of those -little metal cases meant death, and I heard the whir as they passed by -my head. Now, show me how to use them, and perhaps I will let the white -man you seek go free. Besides, I may give you all many presents.” - -“You say ‘perhaps’ you will let our friend, the white man in your -city, go free,” rejoined Nick Carter. “Do you forget that you promised -he should be delivered to us? Also you said that there was no enmity -between us. I am showing you how we use our death sticks. I would not -do that for one whom I believed to be an enemy.” - -Calaman smiled inscrutably, and his dark eyes were almost hidden in -their sockets for an instant. He looked the incarnation of cunning and -malevolence. - -“Show it all to me, and your friend shall go free to-night, in honor of -the feast of the Golden Scarab,” he promised smoothly. - -“Very well,” replied Nick Carter. But he was not blinded in the least -by the priest’s sudden acquiescence. - -“He doesn’t mean to do it,” whispered Patsy. “He isn’t on the level, -and I know it.” - -“Of course he isn’t,” returned Nick. “But don’t talk. We shall win in -the end.” - -“You bet!” breathed Patsy Garvan confidently. - - - - - CHAPTER III. - - NICK FINDS A NEW FRIEND. - - -“I should like to try one of the death sticks,” declared the priest -persuasively. “Could you show me how to do it?” - -This was a feeler that the detective knew meant mischief if the priest -were able to follow it up. But there was no way of blocking the game -just then. So Nick seemed to accept it with perfect good humor. - -“This is a white man’s weapon,” he warned Calaman, as he held up the -rifle for inspection. “You may try it. But sometimes it will hurt those -who do not understand it.” - -“I will take the risk,” was Calaman’s dogged response. - -“Very well. Then you place a cartridge in the breech in this way,” -explained Nick, as he illustrated with Jai Singh’s rifle, which he had -taken from the tall Hindu’s hand. - -While showing the priest how the cartridge was put in, Nick had slyly -driven the muzzle of the weapon into the sand at his feet, plugging the -barrel very badly. - -“I see,” observed Calaman. “Is that all?” - -“Not quite. You place this end of the stick against your shoulder, to -hold it firm. Then you press your finger against this bit of steel. -When you do that there will be a loud noise, and the bit of lead, like -those you saw in that dried head, will fly out and strike anything that -may be in the way.” - -Calaman listened intently. Then he took the rifle in his hands with the -joy of a child in handling a new toy. - -Under Nick Carter’s guidance, he placed the butt against his shoulder, -and pulled the trigger. - -The detective had said there would be a loud noise. - -There was. The plugged rifle came near bursting, and the recoil knocked -Calaman backward in a most undignified somersault, with a badly bruised -shoulder and half stunned. - -“I told you it was a white man’s weapon,” chuckled the detective, “and -dangerous to those who did not understand it. You are not hurt?” - -The priest did not reply to the question. He was scowling wickedly, as -he got up, with the assistance of two of his guards, and rubbed his -shoulder. - -Patsy Garvan could not repress his mirth. He let out a loud snort of -enjoyment before Chick could stop it, and then had to get behind the -others to recover himself. - -Calaman appeared not to notice all this disturbance. But there is no -doubt that he knew all about it, and privately resolved to punish Mr. -Garvan in his own good time. - -“You have shown me things, white man,” he purred, in his mildest manner -as he turned to Nick Carter. “Now I will show you that which none of -your race have seen before. Follow me!” - -In a low tone he gave instructions to the captain of his guard. At once -a number of them formed into column and marched on ahead, while a few -remained behind, as bodyguard for the priest. - -“Come!” requested Calaman. - -As the little party of strangers marched through the streets behind -their priestly conductor, Nick Carter noticed that there was some sort -of suppressed excitement among the teeming populace. - -Angry murmurs arose, and now and again stones and garbage were flung -from somewhere. - -At first Nick and his companions thought the missiles were intended for -them. Soon, however, they saw that they were mistaken. - -From a house on their right there suddenly dashed a man, naked to the -waist, who was brandishing a short, heavy-bladed sword, and who seemed -to be frantic with fury. - -With a shriek of rage, he flew at the captain of the guard, and, with -one slashing cut, killed the man. - -That was not all. He swept right and left with his formidable sword, -and down went two more soldiers. - -It was over in a second, and the maniacal slayer seemed to be looking -around for new victims. - -“Good!” ejaculated Jai Singh. “There is a man! Quick as a panther! And -how he can strike! He went clean through the skull and halfway through -the shoulder before his blade turned.” - -Jai Singh had become suddenly filled with the blood fury that always -lay a little below the surface in him, and he would have dashed -forward with his spear, to fight anybody or anything, if Nick Carter -had not held him back. - -“Stop!” he commanded in the Hindu’s ear, in stern tones. “This is not -our business. Keep out! We shall have enough fighting before we are -through. I’ll tell you when to use your spear.” - -Jai Singh panted with eagerness to get into the fray. - -“But, sahib,” he returned, in a hoarse murmur, “if I could stand back -to back with that man for a few moments—he with that sword of his, and -I with my spear—there would be a fight that you would like to see. We -two could eat up the whole guard of the old priest, and do what we -liked in Shangore!” - -Nick Carter only waved his hand, and gradually Jai Singh subsided. - -The strength and agility of the man who had run amuck were amazing. -He escaped from the ring of spears that hedged him in, seemingly by a -miracle. His sword flashed up and down, finding its mark each time. He -might have been invincible. - -Numbers told at last, however. As the man’s arm tired, a spear was -thrust into his chest. He sprang back, with a roar of rage, and -flourished his sword valiantly. But it was no use. Another spear was -embedded between his shoulder blades from behind, and he dropped—dead. - -The body was picked up and flung carelessly aside, the dead and wounded -guards were carried into a house near by, and the procession moved on -as if there had been no interruption. - -Calaman had looked on impassively throughout the whole incident, but -Nick Carter could make out indications of cold, black rage working -within him. Also he noted the scowls of the populace and a certain -fidgeting of some of the soldiers in his vicinity. - -One man in particular, whose rather elaborate uniform proclaimed him to -be an officer, showed that he was disgusted with the tragedy that had -just taken place, and that he blamed others than the wretched victims. - -This officer was a fine-looking man, with well-cut, high-bred features, -while his black eyes appeared to look through anything upon which they -might chance to be fixed. - -It was evident that he found it hard to restrain himself while the -poor, demented creature was struggling with the guard. Once or twice -he fingered his sword hilt. At such times his piercing eyes were fixed -upon Calaman, while his black brows met in a menacing frown. - -He caught Nick Carter’s eye, and at once there was an understanding -between the two men. - -“Why are such things allowed, my friend?” asked Nick. - -“Because that fiend there, Calaman, and his under-priests, rule the -land,” was the savage reply, in an undertone. “They have the power and -the secret of the Golden Scarab. The people cry out and complain. But -that is all. They are superstitious, and they have never understood -what the Golden Scarab is, or how it controls their destinies.” - -“Sounds like the worst kind of bunk,” muttered Patsy to Chick. “I’d put -my foot on this Scarab thing, if I lived here.” - -“Hush!” returned Chick. “Let’s hear what this man has to say.” - -“The priests rule everything in Bolongu, and particularly in this city -of Shangore,” went on the officer to Nick Carter. “Meanwhile we, the -nobles, and the rightful rulers of the land, have to pretend that -we are loyal to these same priests and that we follow their bidding -because we like it.” - -“There is a nobility in Bolongu, then?” asked the detective. - -“As old as any in the world,” was the proud reply. “Look you! That man -who rushed out of the house, with his bare sword, and who has just been -prodded to death, was of royal blood, a cousin of Prince Tillo. Yet, -because he was suspected of plotting against the priesthood, his wife -is condemned to die to-day by the Scarab.” - -“Die by the Scarab? What does that mean?” - -“You will see,” was the enigmatical answer. “It will be this afternoon. -Be careful, stranger, you walk a dangerous path! You have strange -powers, as I have seen with my own eyes. Yet Calaman is cunning and -will lay a trap for you. Even now you may be standing within reach of -the claws of the Golden Scarab.” - -“What is the Golden Scarab I have heard so much about?” asked the -detective. “Surely a strong man like yourself, with a sword that no -doubt you know how to wield, could kill it—that is, if there is such a -thing as this Scarab, and it is not some fairy tale for children!” - -“Wait till this afternoon. I’ll try and have more talk with you then. -Calaman is watching us now. When the people are gathered in the -amphitheater over there this afternoon, the white man you seek is to be -brought out to die the death of the Scarab!” - -Horror-stricken as Nick Carter was when he heard this, he was glad -the officer had spoken so softly that only he had heard the words. -Particularly he was pleased that they had not reached the ears of -Jefferson Arnold. If they had, nothing could have prevented the peppery -old millionaire flinging himself at once upon Calaman and his guards in -an endeavor to save his son. - -Such an attack could not but have been unsuccessful just then. - -“You say the white man is to die this afternoon?” murmured Nick Carter. - -“Yes, but not until some others who are condemned have been disposed -of.” - -“But—this must not be,” exclaimed Nick, in the same low tone, but with -the fire of determination blazing in his gray eyes. “This young man -is the son of one of the most powerful and wealthiest men in the big -country from which I come—America. You have heard of it?” - -“Of course I have,” returned the officer. “Who has not? But if this -young white man is to be saved, it must be by your own endeavors. -There is one thing more,” he added, after a short pause: “If I can -help in any way, I will. Perhaps I can. But no more words. Calaman is -beckoning.” - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - - HOW CALAMAN KEPT HIS WORD - - -“Whom does he want? You?” asked the detective. - -“I think not. He seems to be looking at you. Go!” - -“One moment!” begged Nick Carter. “Do you know Calaman very well? Is he -your friend or an enemy?” - -“Outwardly we are on good terms,” was the answer. “But who can trust -Calaman? He trusts me, I believe, because once I did him a service—it -matters not what. But if once he got an inkling of a suspicion, even -now, at the last hour, neither you nor I would see the sun sink below -those hills to-night. Now go, before he gets suspicious.” - -Nick Carter strode over to the priest, apparently unconcerned, but with -every sense on the alert. - -“Stranger! Accompany me!” came from Calaman. “You shall see to-day -something you could never have anticipated.” - -“I believe that,” was Nick Carter’s quiet response. - -They had reached the steps of the temple. It was a magnificent -structure, built with the architectural skill of any American or -European pile of its kind. It seemed to be of the finest marble, -and the great dome was covered with thin sheets of beaten gold that -glistened in the sun as if it were afire. - -On the lower steps the guard halted. Calaman, accompanied by all of -Nick Carter’s party—except Captain, Nick Carter’s splendid bloodhound, -who had trotted along modestly at their heels throughout all their -peregrinations, without trying to force himself into notice, paused. - -He gave a sign to the guards, and one of them took Captain by his -massive collar. - -If Chick had not spoken a few words to the bloodhound on the instant, -the soldier never could have retained his grip. But when Chick told the -dog to go with him and be quiet, he obeyed with the docility that was -one of his predominant characteristics. - -Once inside the temple, Nick Carter was struck by the coolness, in -contrast with the stifling heat outside. - -“Seems like a fine building,” remarked Chick. - -“Nothing slow about this!” muttered Patsy. “Reminds me of the -Pennsylvania Station in New York.” - -It was a minute or two before their eyes became accustomed to the gloom. - -As they began to distinguish their surroundings, Chick observed softly -that he understood now what was meant by “dim, religious light.” - -The party had just time to note that the interior of the temple was -quite the equal in beauty and impressiveness to the outside, when the -clang of heavy, metal-sheathed doors sounded behind them, the echoes -repeating themselves indefinitely. - -Then things began to happen quickly. - -White-robed priests seemed to rise from the floor on every side of -them, and, before they could raise a hand to defend themselves, each -member of the party was pounced upon by half a dozen men, who bound -their arms behind their back. - -It is not to be supposed that the captives submitted without a battle. - -Patsy Garvan, uttering defiances thick and fast, lashed out his feet at -the bare legs of the priests, and left many a mark on their shins that -they carried for weeks and months. - -“Just give me one of my hands!” howled Patsy. “That’s all I want—one! -I’ll lick ten of these fellows with the other, and I’ll bet on it. Just -give me one hand!” - -There was no response to this, and soon Patsy was as helpless as a -dressed duck. - -Nick Carter had been fighting desperately, and for a moment it looked -as if he might even get the better of his assailants. He butted one -of them under the chin and sent him crashing backward upon the marble -floor. - -“Come on, Chick! Use your gun!” he shouted. - -But there were too many men against the party. - -Even as the detective called to his assistant, the loop of a rope -was thrown over his head, and catching him around the waist, pinned -his arms to his sides, and brought him back with a jerk, panting and -furious. - -Everybody in the party was a prisoner by this time, and Nick Carter’s -busy brain was working to devise a way of escape. - -That was his way always when in a tight fix. He never wasted time -bewailing his fate, but used all his wits in seeking relief. - -A chuckling laugh that he recognized as coming from Calaman made him -turn his face in that direction. - -“Calaman!” he called. - -“I am here.” - -“What does this mean?” - -“Part of the ceremony, my dear white stranger,” replied the high -priest’s voice. “That is all.” - -There was another stifled chuckle, as if Calaman were enjoying the -situation too much for mere words. - -It had been a trap carefully prepared, and Nick Carter was obliged to -admit that it had worked to perfection. - -“You will pay for this, Calaman,” he said sternly. - -“I am willing to pay for anything I want,” was the calm reply. - -“You promised to show us the city,” continued Nick. “And to release -the white man you have as prisoner. That was to be the payment for our -showing you how the death sticks work.” - -The high priest did not try to repress a sneering laugh as he stepped -in front of Nick Carter. - -“I have not said yet that I will not let the white man go,” Calaman -reminded the detective. - -“Why have you worked this outrage on us?” demanded Nick Carter. “Less -than half an hour ago I held your life in my hands, as you know. Yet I -did you no harm with my death stick.” - -“I wish you or Chick had put half a dozen bullets into the old rip,” -observed Jefferson Arnold. - -Calaman glanced at the millionaire with a scowl that promised no good -to that impetuous gentleman. Then he turned again to Nick Carter, with -a cunning smile, as he fingered his long gray beard. - -“I know I made some such promise,” he purred, smiling. “And, behold, I -am keeping my word to the letter. I promised you free entrance to the -city—and you are here. I promised to entertain you as my guests, and I -sent you food and wine and the choicest tobacco to smoke.” - -“That’s true enough,” muttered Jefferson. “He’s as cunning as a rat. -Oh, wait till I get out of these ropes! If I don’t choke him till his -eyes pop out——” - -“You see,” continued the priest steadily, “I’ve done everything I -promised. You asked to see the city, and even now you stand in its most -noble building. As to the other white prisoner—the one who was caught -as he tried to break through my guards last night—I promised that you -should see and have speech with him. So you shall—this afternoon, in -the arena of the Golden Scarab, before you all shall die with him.” - -He laughed malignantly and glanced at the bonds of his prisoners, as if -to assure himself they were secure. - -“You are not ashamed of such vile treachery?” asked Nick Carter, his -eyes flashing in disgust. - -“All is fair in diplomacy and war, my stranger friend,” was the cool -answer. “I know enough of the outside world to be aware that that truth -is accepted everywhere. Besides, I have kept faith with you in every -particular.” - -“This looks like it.” - -“This state of things was brought on by yourselves,” snarled Calaman. -“You were unwise enough to boast to me that in those metal cases -of yours you held the lives of two thousand men. If your words be -true—and, frankly, I believe they are—surely I should be foolish to -give you your liberty, or to leave you even now with such weapons in -your hands.” - -“You contemptible old fraud!” burst out Nick. “You shall pay for this. -We are not dead men yet.” - -“You will be before sundown.” - -The priest snapped this at the detective. Then he signed to his guards -to seize the rifles and the spear that Jai Singh carried, and which the -Hindu never before had allowed out of his hands, even when he had a -rifle as well. - -There was a desperate fight when they tried to take away the spear. - -Jai Singh had a superstitious regard for his favorite weapon, and bound -though he was, he gave the guards such a tussle that one of them had a -great gash in his arm before he could tear the spear out of its owner’s -grasp. - -“Look around you, my stranger guests,” said Calaman, when the struggle -was over. “This is the Temple of the Golden Scarab, and those you see -in their places on the walls are his victims. He claims a certain -number once every year at the coming of the full moon. Look!” - -They saw that the vast circular walls were faced by serried tiers of -niches, in each of which was a mummified, headless form, wrapped in -beaten gold. - -Over each mummy was a horrible shrunken head in a smaller niche. - -There were hundreds and hundreds of them, tier upon tier. - -“These are only the noble born of the Scarab’s victims,” explained -Calaman. “The common herd are flung into the lake, where the alligators -get them. That empty place over there, on the farthest wall, is for the -Prince Tillo, whose body was prepared by one of our medicine men in a -cave in the hills.” - -“We saw that,” put in Nick Carter, almost before he knew he had spoken. -“It was an awful sight.” - -The priest laughed. - -“You are oversensitive, stranger. I was going to say that Prince Tillo -was a great man and powerful—too powerful, for his removal caused -some discontent among the people. That is partly why I wanted those -sticks of yours. If the discontent should rise to a head, it would be -difficult to deal with them.” - -“This does not concern me,” broke in Nick Carter. “What are you going -to do with us now?” - -“Those other empty recesses on the wall are for certain nobles who will -die this afternoon, and for you, my stranger guests. It will be an -honor to you, and especially to the dark men you have with you. But you -do not belong to Bolongu, and the people will be told that you are all -noble in your own countries.” - -He turned away. As he did so, several of the guards led them through a -low archway, down a flight of steps, and into a cell beneath the floor -of the temple. - -They were bolted in, and left in pitch darkness. Moreover, the air was -hot and oppressive. - -The first silence was broken by Patsy. - -“Well, chief, what now?” he asked. “Of course, we have to get out of -this somehow.” - -“Keep quiet, Patsy,” admonished Chick. “Be ready to take orders.” - -“That’s what I always am,” retorted Patsy. “I’m only asking.” - -“If we could get our hands free!” muttered Nick Carter, as he struggled -with his bonds. “There would be a few less priests of the Golden Scarab -in the world the next time any of them came.” - -“Bully!” broke out Patsy. - -“Can’t we untie each other’s hands?” suggested Jefferson Arnold. - -“I’m afraid it can’t be done,” was Nick’s reply. “The knots are too -firm, and they are all behind us. No, all we can do is to wait. There -is one thing not to be forgotten, and it may be of considerable help to -us.” - -“What’s that?” asked Chick. - -“We all have our pistols and some cartridges in our pockets. They did -not seem to think of them when they took our rifles.” - -“If I had my spear, I should not want anything else,” lamented Jai -Singh. - -“So we can have one good fight before the end comes,” continued Nick. -“If I don’t drive a few holes into Calaman, it will be because all my -cartridges miss fire.” - -Patsy Garvan chuckled in the darkness. It was seldom that his chief -made such threats. It told Patsy that there would be action after a -while. - -It was about half an hour afterward when the door opened, showing half -a dozen men in the vestments of the priesthood. - -Some carried lanterns, while others bore dishes of fruit and meat and -wine in great flagons. - -These they set upon the one rough table that was in the prison. Then -two of them loosened a hand each of the prisoners, so that they -could help themselves to food and drink, while behind each stood a -tall priest, with drawn sword, ready to strike at the first sign of -resistance. - -The hand of Patsy Garvan stole to his belt, but Nick Carter shook his -head, and his young assistant attacked his food like the rest. - - - - - CHAPTER V. - - THE SCRATCH AT THE DOOR. - - -“I have my long knife in my sash, where it is hidden,” whispered Jai -Singh to Nick Carter, who was next to him. “I could stick that fat pig -at my side before he knew what I meant to do. Then you and the others -could clean out the remainder with your pistols.” - -“Hush, Jai Singh!” responded Nick guardedly. “They will hear you.” - -“No. They are too far from us to hear me whisper. Will you let me do -it? We can, I am sure.” - -“It would be of no use,” replied Nick, from behind the goblet as he -lifted it to his mouth. “Even if we killed off most of those here, -there are hundreds of others within hearing. We could never get out of -the building.” - -“It would be a good way to die,” insisted Jai Singh. - -“We came here to get Sahib Leslie,” the detective reminded him. - -This had more effect upon the tall Hindu than anything else that had -been said. He was loyal to the two Arnolds. - -“I do as you say, sahib,” he returned resignedly. “But I wish these -priests would go soon. They make the red mist to swim before my eyes.” - -The meal was soon dispatched. Then, the priests having tied their hands -again, went out. The party of prisoners were again in darkness. - -There was silence for some minutes. Each was occupied with his own -thoughts, except Jai Singh, who, with the philosophy of his race, -curled up on the floor and went to sleep. - -“What do you think about my boy, Carter?” asked Jefferson Arnold -suddenly. “Surely there must be some way to save him?” - -“There’s got to be,” answered Nick briefly. - -“They wouldn’t be likely to kill him before we get out of this cell, do -you think?” - -“Not at all probable. They are to have this Festival of the Golden -Scarab this afternoon, and, from what I gather, it is a very -ceremonious affair, at which all the people of the city will be -present. They will have us there to see the executions.” - -“They’ll never execute my boy!” declared Jefferson Arnold. - -“I promise you that,” said Nick Carter earnestly. - -“I know I have a strong objection to being stuck on a shelf in that -temple overhead. That seems the worst part of it,” remarked Chick. - -“I don’t agree with you there, Chick. If we are dead, it won’t matter -much what monkey tricks they play with us afterward. Only I don’t -intend to let them kill any of us. So there will be no niches in the -temple for us to be put in. As for Leslie, we came into this city to -rescue him, and we are going to do it.” - -Nick Carter said this in the resolute tone usual with him when he had -made up his mind, and it inspired confidence in all his companions. - -Patsy Garvan indulged in a chuckle, and Jefferson Arnold edged up to -the detective in the blackness and nudged him with an elbow. It was the -next best thing to shaking hands. - -“Hush!” whispered Chick suddenly. “What’s that?” - -“What?” blurted out Patsy. - -“Oh, keep quiet,” rebuked Chick. “Listen!” - -“Something is moving outside the door,” whispered Nick Carter. - -“I heard it,” added Jefferson Arnold. - -“So did I,” declared Adil, who had not spoken much since he had been in -the cell. - -They all listened—except Jai Singh, who still snored contentedly. - -“Sounds like a cat,” murmured Patsy. - -There was a faint, but regular, scratching outside the door, but it -made too much noise for a cat. - -They had visions of some monstrous creature trying to force his way -into the cell, and all except Nick Carter shuddered with the terror -that comes sometimes to the bravest man in the face of the unknown. - -“We’ll have to kick if it comes at us,” said Patsy. “That’s all we can -do. If only we had our hands free!” - -“Oh, shut up!” growled Chick. “While we are wishing, why not wish we -were outside this city, with Leslie Arnold, and everything all right? -Keep still till we see what we are going to do.” - -“Hush!” ordered Nick Carter. - -The scratching continued, and then it came to the detective that the -sound might mean something good for them, instead of evil. - -“You remember that officer who was talking to us?” he whispered. - -“Yes,” returned Chick, with a note of hope in his voice. - -“That’s so,” added the millionaire. - -“He may be trying to get to us.” - -“That’s it, of course,” exclaimed Patsy, jumping to a conclusion with -his customary haste. - -“We don’t know yet,” went on Nick Carter. “But——” - -More scratching, and Nick Carter was sure the noise was made in a -regular cadence, as if it were meant for a signal. - -“That officer showed that he was friendly,” he murmured. “Perhaps he -has found out where we are.” - -“He’s a big man in the city,” remarked Chick. - -“Exactly. And he could go pretty nearly where he likes—in the temple -or anywhere else,” was Nick Carter’s response. “I’ll try to find out, -if only I can do it, with these confounded ropes around my arms. Keep -still, everybody.” - -With considerable difficulty, Nick contrived to roll himself across the -floor to the door. Once there, he got the toe of his shoe against it -and scratched three times, with a distinct pause between each scratch. - -At once there came three scratches like his own, on the outside. - -“Bully!” burst out of Patsy. - -“Hush!” - -Nick scratched again three times, and now there came a result of his -signaling which was even better than he had anticipated. - -There were three quick scratches outside, and then the sound of a key -grating in the lock. - -Nick Carter rolled himself away from the door, to see what was going to -happen. - -“Look out for treachery, boys!” he whispered. - -But there was nothing of that kind this time. In another moment the -door swung gently open, and there appeared a small red spot of light in -the blackness. - -As the red spot moved about, a low voice came to them, the tone of -which was unmistakably friendly. - -“Do not fear, strangers! Above all, don’t make any noise. It is I, -Lord Slava, come to help you. I talked to one of you to-day, the man -who first showed what could be done with the death stick, when he put -pieces of lead into the head swinging to the cord.” - -“That’s you, chief,” whispered Chick. - -“I am the person you spoke to, Lord Slava,” said Nick Carter to their -unseen visitor. “You were friendly.” - -“I am friendly,” came the response. “If you will come with me, you may -yet escape the sacrifice. The feast does not begin for an hour.” - -“Gee! I’d like to keep out of it,” observed Patsy. - -If Chick’s hands had been free, he certainly would have given Patsy a -nudge that would have taken the breath out of him. - -“You are tied, are you not?” asked Slava. - -“You bet!” replied Patsy. - -The visitor seemed not to understand this American idiom, and Nick -Carter followed it with plainer language. - -“Our hands are tied behind our backs.” - -“I thought so.” - -Lord Slava blew on the little torch he carried, and which made the red -spot of fire. It lightened up under his breath, until there was enough -illumination for him to see where the prisoners were. - -“We’ll soon have these off,” he remarked. - -With deft, quick strokes, he cut their bonds. - -Jai Singh had woke up, and, catching the last few remarks made, he -understood that a friend had come to help them. So he rolled over to -have the ropes taken off his limbs. - -When he was free, the tall Hindu arose and stretched himself with a -grunt of satisfaction that was almost as loud as Patsy Garvan’s. - -When they were all released, and had had a few moments in which to move -about, to get their blood again in circulation, Lord Slava gave the -word for them to depart. - -“Follow me closely,” he cautioned. “One false step may arouse the whole -of this nest of vermin. But the way I shall take you is not long, and -we can soon be out of immediate danger.” - -“Now I’ve got my hands to use again danger is just what I want,” -mumbled Patsy to himself. “Gee! There’s nothing I’d like better than a -rough-house right here.” - -“Keep quiet, Patsy,” admonished Nick Carter, whose keen hearing very -little ever escaped. - -The prisoners followed Lord Slava step by step, paused while he opened -another door and closed it carefully after them all, and passed after -him down a long, low, damp-smelling tunnel. - -They went on till they came to a sharp turn. There they felt the fresh -air blowing on their faces, and saw an oval patch of sky in front and -above them. - -The friendly officer of the guard placed his heel on the torch and -stamped out the fire. - -“Now we may speak in safety,” he told them. “But not loudly, for soon -the crowd will begin to assemble.” - -“Is the festival going to begin again?” asked Patsy. - -“Very soon.” - -“We are not too late to save my son—the white man who is to be -sacrificed?” asked Jefferson Arnold eagerly. - -“We are not too late,” replied Lord Slava quietly. - -“They intend to kill him?” came from Chick. - -“If they are not stopped.” - -“They will be stopped,” declared Nick Carter grimly. “Thanks to Lord -Slava, here, I am sure of it now.” - -“I believe you can do it,” smiled Lord Slava. “But you must use great -caution. I’ll confess I have helped you at the risk of my life. Calaman -has no mercy on those who oppose him. I’m with you in this venture. In -return, I ask you to stand by me.” - -“Till the death!” returned Nick Carter earnestly. - -“Here, too,” added Chick. - -“And you can bet your pile on me,” announced Patsy. - -“Where do we strike first?” asked Jefferson Arnold. - -“I only have my knife,” bewailed Jai Singh. “It will have to serve -until I can get a spear. But I’ll take one from some of those men as -soon as I get near to them.” - -“I have a revolver,” modestly spoke Adil, who seldom said anything -unless he considered it absolutely necessary. - -“What are we to do?” asked Nick Carter. “Make a sudden rush? That would -suit me and all my party.” - -“That’s so!” indorsed Patsy. “Good stuff!” - -“We must proceed cautiously,” answered Lord Slava, “and yet with -boldness. We will make an onslaught at the proper moment, which may -either result in the death of us all, or rid the land forever of these -pestilent priests.” - -“They seem to have the country by the throat,” observed Nick. - -“They have. We nobles, as well as the common people, all know that. The -time has come for a desperate rebellion.” - -“We seem to have come to Shangore at an opportune moment,” remarked the -detective. - -“You have. So I promise that if you die, you shall at least die -fighting. If you live, and I also, then you may take your toll of the -treasures of the temple. Those treasures are enormous, for the Bolongus -are a wealthy people.” - -“That listens good!” commented Patsy. - -“We are lucky, I should say,” added Chick, delighted at the prospect of -a big fight, with prize money as a pleasant incidental. - -“Speak on, Lord Slava,” requested Nick Carter. “You have done much for -us already. For that we owe you thanks—not in words, but in deeds. As -for the treasure, we are not thinking of that.” - -“Speak for yourself, chief?” murmured Patsy, and this time he spoke so -low that not even Nick Carter overheard. - -“We will help you with this stroke of yours, Lord Slava,” declared -Nick. “If it gives us a chance to get even with that rascally Calaman, -so much the better.” - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - - ARMED FOR THE RUSH. - - -“It is against Calaman that our stroke will be directed,” declared Lord -Slava sternly. “He and his followers. I will tell you in brief why we -hate him.” - -“You need not unless you wish it,” returned Nick Carter. “We will fight -him hard without knowing that. He has injured us enough to give us -cause for battle.” - -Lord Slava took no notice of the detective’s words. He seemed to be -thinking of other days, and as if he had forgotten where he was or to -whom he was talking. - -“In years gone by,” he went on, “we were a fighting race, ruled over -by princes, and we cut out a path for ourselves with our swords and -spears. This was the way it was for generations. Then, little by -little, the priests gained power, and we of the Golden Scarab fell more -and more under their domination, until now no man dares call his life -his own.” - -“I’ve seen that already,” commented Nick. - -“The priests have established a custom to make all who have offended -them die the death of the Scarab on the occasion of the annual -festival. There is no escape. They pick out the most powerful of the -nobles—those who have the ear of the people—as well as the common -malefactors. Last year Prince Tillo, my uncle, was one of the victims. -The only reason I myself have escaped is that I am one of Calaman’s -officers.” - -“That’s lucky for you.” - -“Perhaps!” replied Slava, with a shrug. “But now word has gone around -that there is to be a great killing. In addition to you strangers and -the other white prisoner you have come here to carry away, they have -seized my brother and seven others of the chief nobles of the land. -They had to capture these last in secret, for Calaman and his creatures -fear the nobles.” - -“Well, but what are we to do about it?” interrupted Nick Carter, rather -impatiently. “This killing will not be allowed to go on, will it?” - -“Not if it can be prevented.” - -“Well, it can,” interposed Chick, who had been listening indignantly to -Lord Slava’s narration. - -“I have gathered together certain of my followers,” explained Slava, -“and we are sworn to rescue our friends or die.” - -“Of course!” snorted Patsy Garvan. “What else? That’s the only sporting -thing to do.” - -“We are some three hundred, all told,” went on Slava. “The priests -outnumber us six to one. But the people, I believe, are on our side, if -we can stop the first rush.” - -“We shall have to stop it,” was Nick Carter’s remark. - -“I believe we can, with your help, stranger. With your strange -weapons—your death sticks—we might turn the tide in our favor. We might -even slay the Golden Scarab itself. In that case, the whole nation -would thank you.” - -“This Golden Scarab is alive, then?” - -“Yes.” - -“Big?” - -“Very.” - -“Where did it come from?” - -“I don’t know. Nobody does—except Calaman and those who are very near -to him. The creature is seen only once a year at the festival. Where it -goes for the rest of the time I cannot tell you.” - -“Queer!” mused Carter. “It doesn’t sound natural, somehow.” - -“Perhaps it isn’t,” returned Lord Slava. “However, you will see it this -afternoon, and judge for yourself.” - -“Has anybody ever tried to kill it, or find out what it really is?” -asked Nick. - -“Often. But always without success. It is useless for us to talk about -it. You will admit that when you see the thing,” added Lord Slava, -shaking his head. “I can count on you and your friends, can I?” - -“You most certainly can,” answered Nick Carter. “I shall be glad to see -this Scarab. And I don’t think it is going to set us all at defiance -successfully. I have a feeling that we shall get the better of it -to-day.” - -“Its bite is certain death,” Lord Slava warned him solemnly. - -“So is the bite of my rifle,” returned Nick dryly. “If I can get hold -of it before I meet this insect, I shall not be afraid of its biting -me. If I don’t have the rifle, then I will try what can be done with an -automatic revolver and a thirty-eight cartridge or two.” - -“Or a club,” put in Chick. - -“I’ve hunted tigers when they’ve been pretty savage, and I’ve been in -close quarters with them,” put in Jefferson Arnold. “They never got -away with me yet, and I guess I won’t back down before a thing like -this Scarab, especially with Nick Carter and the others to back me up.” - -“Those priests grabbed all our guns and things,” grumbled Patsy. “But -if I can get hold of one of their spears, blowed if I don’t try what I -can do with it when I run out of cartridges for my revolver.” - -Chick smiled at his comrade’s persistence. He knew very well that Patsy -would do what he said, if there were nothing better. - -“You won’t have to make shift with Bolongu weapons,” said Lord Slava, -with a smile. “Look!” - -He pointed to a corner of the tunnel in which they stood. There were -all their rifles, the opened case of cartridges which had been used -when Nick Carter and Chick fired at the mummified head in the public -square, and Jai Singh’s spear. - -The tall Hindu was the first person to make a swoop upon the -collection. He had his beloved spear in his hand almost as soon as Lord -Slava had turned his finger in that direction, and was flourishing it -as joyously as a boy might play with his toy sword. - -“Ugh! Good!” ejaculated Jai Singh. - -He rubbed his face all over the shining metal head, and passed his -fingers affectionately along the long shaft. - -He could hardly realize that he had again the weapon that had been -such a friend in many a hard-fought scrimmage, as well as often in the -jungle, when he had stood off wild beasts that only an exceptionally -brave man would dare to face. - -Nick Carter slipped cartridges into his rifle until the magazine was -full—taking them out of the opened case, rather than from his pocket. - -His example was followed by all the others. When the party got on the -move again, each member of it had the means of killing a dozen or so of -the enemy right in his hands. - -“How did these things get here?” asked Nick, when he saw that all his -companions were properly equipped. - -“I did it,” smiled Lord Slava. “Certain of my men had charge of them, -so I had them conveyed to this place. Though, I will confess, they seem -to me very dangerous to handle. When I had the death sticks where I -could put my hands on them, I made my way to the cell where they had -put you. I hoped to have your help in the enterprise I have in view.” - -“I’m glad you thought of us,” interrupted Nick Carter earnestly. - -“Yes. I came secretly, by this tunnel. It has not been used for very -many years. You see, it leads directly from the temple to the great -arena itself. It is in that arena that the killings will take place.” - -“It is a wonder they didn’t have the tunnel locked up—if there is any -way of doing it,” suggested Nick. - -“There is, but I got the key of the outer door by drugging one of the -priests with wine. After that, there was no difficulty save in finding -out which one of the cells they had put you in.” - -“I couldn’t believe we were to stay there without somebody coming to -help us,” said the detective. “It would be too much bad luck in a small -package.” - -“See!” broke in Slava. “The people are gathering in the arena. The -festival will soon begin.” - -“Queer name to give a wholesale butchery,” remarked Chick. “A festival.” - -“It’s only a revival of the big festivals of the ancient Romans, after -all, Chick,” his chief reminded him. - -“That may be. But this is the twentieth century, not the first—or -whenever it was they used to kill people in the Colosseum,” was Chick’s -rejoinder. “Baseball is more in my line.” - -Lord Slava pointed out of the doorway, and the others all stared out, -with strange feelings of mingled interest and indignation, as they -thought of the attempt that was to be made on the lives of Leslie -Arnold and themselves. - -It was a wonderful sight, regarded purely in the light of a spectacle. - -They found themselves looking into an immense circular amphitheater -of soft sand. It measured some five hundred feet across, and was -surrounded on all sides by tier upon tier of stone seats, as -symmetrically made as if each had been the work of a finished artist. - -Many of these seats already had occupants, although it would be some -time before the exhibition would begin. Dimly seen, ghostly forms they -were, as they came up from below and slid silently into their chosen -places. - -There was a high wall at the bottom of the tiers of seats, so that -those who would take part in the performances in the arena would not be -able to reach the spectators. In a general way, the place looked like a -bullfighting theater. - -The lower seats, next to the top of the wall, were handsomely -decorated. They were reserved for the nobles and other people of -importance. The upper ones, and by far the greater number, were given -over to the populace. - -Directly opposite the special seats for the nobility was a stone -archway, with a gilded, barred gate. - -“It is by that gate that the Scarab comes for his victims,” explained -Slava. “From that other gate, yonder, the victims are driven out, or -dragged away, as the case may be.” - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - - THREE IN A ROW. - - -“Who are to be killed first?” asked Nick Carter, when they had been -looking into the amphitheater for some minutes. - -“Well,” returned Lord Slava, “the first three are malefactors who -deserve no better fate. But after that comes the challenge.” - -“What challenge?” burst out the inquisitive Patsy. - -“According to custom, there must be a challenge before any person of -high degree may be put to death. The next victim on the list is the -wife of that man who ran amuck in the street and whom you saw slain -this morning.” - -“A woman?” exclaimed Chick, in horror. - -“Yes. But we are determined to save her if we can. So, after the -challenge, in the pause before she is brought in, I will give you the -signal,” said Lord Slava, addressing Nick Carter. - -“But what is the challenge?” asked the detective, still mystified. - -“According to the law of Bolongu, any man not condemned may step into -the arena, armed with his own weapons, and demand to fight the Scarab.” - -“And is there always some one to offer this challenge?” broke in Chick. - -“There has been none in the last generation,” replied Lord Slava. “Even -before that the Scarab has never been vanquished. Were some one to step -out and beat it, then these executions would have to stop.” - -“It looks to me as if it would be a swell thing to put a bug in the ear -of this other bug—or whatever the Scarab is,” observed Patsy. “It is -some kind of a bug, isn’t it?” - -“A beetle,” answered Slava. - -Jai Singh had been busy with his usual occupation when there was -nothing else to be done—namely, polishing his spear. He looked up now, -with an eager light in his eyes. - -“I should like to have a look at that beetle,” he remarked. “It sounds -like a good fight. I should have my spear and this Golden Scarab could -come at me with all his claws. That would be a little in his favor. -Still, I believe I should be the victor.” - -Lord Slava smiled and shook his head. - -“You are a brave man, stranger. But you know not what you ask. The -Scarab is no ordinary foe. The very touch of one of its claws is -instant and awful death.” - -“My spear is swift, and so am I,” returned Jai Singh simply. - -He went on with his polishing, as if there was nothing more to be -argued, but he listened to all that might be said. - -“There’s nothing slow about Jai Singh,” volunteered Patsy. - -“His spear is as powerful and quick as a shot, it has always seemed to -me,” added Chick. - -“At the same time,” went on Patsy, “if you can’t let Jai Singh take it -up, what’s the matter with little boy Patsy having some fun with this -big lightning bug? I’d make his overcoat rattle, even if I couldn’t -plug a few holes in it.” - -“Wouldn’t do,” was the veto Nick Carter put on this. “I can’t afford to -lose you yet, Patsy.” - -Lord Slava evidently admired Patsy Garvan’s pluck, but he agreed with -Nick Carter that the young assistant would not be the man to offer the -challenge on which so much would depend. - -“You will await the signal,” he directed, turning to Nick. “Do not show -yourselves before. As you see, the amphitheater is fast filling up. It -is not safe for me to stay here any longer. Your escape must have been -discovered by this time.” - -“Is any one likely to come here after us?” asked Nick. “If there should -be an attack on us here, why——” - -He held up his rifle significantly. Lord Slava shook his head again. - -“There is no danger,” he replied. “Here you are secure. No man can -reach you in this tunnel. I will see to that. But when you hear the -trumpets that will open the festival, then keep well back, where the -shadows are deep, and do not speak overloud.” - -“Who is there to hear us if we do speak?” asked Nick, somewhat puzzled. - -“There are seats right over your head. Calaman’s throne is immediately -above where you are standing. The walls are thick, but it might chance -that he would hear you if you raised your voice even for a word or two.” - -Saying this, Lord Slava gripped the hands of each of the white men, -smiled, and vanished by the way they had come. - -“Not a bad fellow—for a lord,” observed Chick. “But I didn’t expect to -find such things in an out-of-the-way corner of India like this. You -can’t lose ’em. They will wear titles, no matter where you go.” - -“I wonder who gave him his title, anyhow?” mused Patsy. “There doesn’t -seem to be anybody in this country higher than old Calaman, and I don’t -think much of him. Gee! Jai Singh!” he went on, addressing the Hindu. -“Why don’t you give yourself a rest from polishing that old spear of -yours? It’s got me all dazzled as it is! It shines like an icicle under -an electric light.” - -“It may lose its shine when I use it up there,” answered Jai Singh, -with a grim smile, as he nodded toward the opening of the amphitheater. -“I polish only when it is not used, Sahib Patsy.” - -“That’s so, too,” murmured Patsy to himself. “When there’s real action, -you don’t see him primping either his spear or himself.” - -The festival in the arena began, and the thousands of spectators who -had gathered settled down to enjoy the exhibition. - -The first victim was a slouching, hangdog-looking man, who, if his -appearance was a criterion of his character, ought never to have been -out of jail. He was one of the malefactors who, according to Lord -Slava, were to be the first victims of the Golden Scarab. - -He was shoved out of one of the gateways, and as he stood, shivering, -on the sandy floor of the great arena, with not a look or word of mercy -for him anywhere, he whimpered like a beaten hound. - -Then he limped farther into the arena, and gazed about, as if to see -where the enemy that he knew must be at hand was coming from. - -There was a roar from the multitude as the opposite gates were flung -open with a clang. - -The man in the middle of the arena seemed to wilt, as he hugged himself -and stared around for a way of escape. - -There was no hope for him. - -From the gateway a great, nondescript creature, like a beetle enlarged -hundreds of times, and enveloped in a glistening armor of red and -black, worked its way out. It moved over to its intended victim with a -sideways motion, varied by little darts straight forward. - -The man tried to run away, but he was petrified with fear and could -only move a few steps. - -A howl of excitement arose from one side of the massed spectators, -spreading rapidly around the whole of the great amphitheater. - -There was no pity in the sound—only interest and that cruel rapture -which is heard at a bullfight when the matador is no match for his -furious enemy charging upon him. - -The first time the Scarab came near the man, he managed to jump to one -side and avoid it. But the respite was only for the slightest fraction -of a second. With a hurried scuffle, the thing swung around, and its -two great horns, looking like the claws of a gigantic lobster, closed -on him! - -The man dropped into the sand, without even a groan. - -Almost before the people in the seats realized what had happened, or -had obtained a clear view, the monster had scuttled back to its den, -and attendants were dragging the dead body of the man out another way -by long chains. - -The second victim, who looked a great deal like the first, was disposed -of by the Scarab in about the same way as the other, except that it was -done in rather less time. - -The awful creature had gone back to its retreat, while the body of its -victim was taken out, before the spectators had time to take in all the -details of the encounter. - -The third man proved to be of tougher metal than his two predecessors. -Obviously he was a natural-born fighter. - -When he was pushed into the arena by the attendants, his shoulders -humped and a look of savage determination in his pale eyes, there was -a general feeling that he would be more interesting than the other two -men who had been disposed of so quickly. - -This fellow kept his gaze on the ground for the most part. Soon it was -seen why he did this. He was looking for missiles to use against his -uncanny foe. - -He picked up a pebble here, a lump of rock there, and an odd piece of -metal somewhere else. - -He huddled them up in his left arm against his body, keeping his right -hand free to hurl them when the time should come. - -It soon did come. The Golden Scarab came out of its gateway faster than -before, making straight for the desperate being it was expected to -destroy. - -The man sent two big stones, but the Scarab seemed to be incased in -such a hard shell that stones would not hurt it. Instead, it rushed -forward with greater fury than ever. - -It was a curious battle, and to Nick Carter it seemed as if it did not -belong to this age at all. The man, in his strange garments—what there -were of them—the Golden Scarab, looking like nothing that the detective -ever had seen before, and yet so full of life and activity, and then -the massed people, yelling in delight at the imminent fate of a fellow -being! - -Used as Nick was to all kinds of sights that only few men are -privileged to see, this one gave him a sinking feel inside that he -could not have described, but which indubitably was there. - -The Scarab moved with incredible swiftness, and the man was obliged to -leap about with the agility of a pantomimic dancer to keep out of its -reach. - -The insect—or reptile, whichever it might be called—measured a good six -feet in length, and was about half as broad. The shell back resembled -that of a turtle. But this creature was much more supple. Besides, -the plates that composed its shell slipped about with an ease and -smoothness never seen in the commoner animal. - -It had six legs, with two horns, the length of a tall man’s arm. These -were furnished at the ends with hooked claws and incisors of a most -vicious aspect. - -As it darted here and there, its whole body rippled sinuously, while -its scaly back glistened and flashed in the rays of the bright morning -sun. - -Its method of attack was peculiarly its own. Every time it approached -its adversary it would raise its horns and the fore part of its body, -strike with the speed of a cat, and retreat before it could suffer a -reprisal. - -Not that it seemed to fear anything the man could do. Several of his -stones had struck it, but without any noticeable effect. The stones -made no impression on its hard shell. - -Four times the man dodged around the great ring, his uncanny foe close -behind him. Although he was making a better showing against the Scarab -than most persons ever had, it was evidently only a question of how -long he could hold out. - -At last he tripped over a sharp rock that he had hurled at his enemy -only just before. Down he went, and the blood flowed from a gash in his -foot where he had struck the edge of the stone. - -In a flash the Golden Scarab was upon him. Before he could scramble -to his feet, the two great horns were flung wide and came together -with a clash. The incisors drove deeply into his chest. He dropped to -the ground, senseless, a stone still clenched between his stiffening -fingers. - -A great gasp went up from the thousands of spectators, and the hideous -Scarab scuttled back to its lair. - -Out came several attendants, to drag the remains of the man away, as -they had the others, and the people waited for the next item of the -ghastly program. - -Chick and Patsy were gazing steadily at the proceedings from their -sheltered place, and for once the latter had nothing to say. Only -Chick, looking pale under the coat of tan he had acquired in the fierce -heat of tropical suns, turned to Nick Carter with a husky whisper: - -“What do you make of it, chief?” - -The detective shook his head frowningly. He was confessedly puzzled, as -well as horrified. - -“I can’t tell you, Chick,” he whispered back. “I’ve seen many strange -sights in the course of my life, but this beats them all. I don’t think -it is mechanism. But it is an ingenious trick of some kind.” - -“Well, I’d like to know what it means?” confessed Chick. - -“So would I,” put in Jefferson Arnold, who had been listening to the -low-voiced colloquy. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - - THROWING DOWN THE GAUNTLET. - - -A loud fanfare on a trumpet echoed across the amphitheater, and into -the narrow corridor whence Nick Carter and his companions were looking -into the arena. - -“Fish!” ejaculated Patsy Garvan, with a pitiful attempt at -facetiousness. - -“Keep quiet, Patsy,” reproved Chick. “This is no time to be funny.” - -“Listen!” whispered Nick Carter sternly. - -There was another trumpet blast, and then the voice of Calaman was -heard, somewhere above them, proclaiming, in a loud voice, the usual -challenge of the Golden Scarab. - -“Does any man dare challenge the Golden Scarab of Shangore to mortal -combat? A touch of its horns means death. Is there any one bold enough -to join issue with this antagonist? If so, he is welcome, and may the -fates give victory to the better fighter!” - -This was the regulation phrasing of the challenge, as it was sent forth -at each succeeding Festival of the Golden Scarab. Calaman rattled it -off as mechanically as an auctioneer runs through the merits of a “lot” -for which he knows in advance there will be no bids. - -There was a pause. Then the voice of Calaman once more rang through the -amphitheater. - -“The lists are open to all comers,” he added. - -Not a sound was heard, and then there was a surprise! Jai Singh, with a -bound, reached the opening of the tunnel and sprang into the arena, in -front of the throne of Calaman. - -“Who are you?” demanded the priest. - -“I am Jai Singh, of the land below the hills,” was the haughty reply. -“I am of high caste, and I am prepared to do battle with the Golden -Scarab. I care not that the touch of his horns is death. I have death -in my spear, and I will send it to the heart of this creature just as -sure as we meet in combat.” - -Calaman, who had turned pale at seeing this man whom he had thought a -prisoner appear suddenly in the amphitheater, armed with his spear, -and hurling his defiance back in his teeth, frowned and shook his head. - -“The challenge is not for you,” he blurted out, at last. - -“Why not?” demanded Jai Singh. - -“Only men of my own race, or those who are white, can be permitted to -face the Golden Scarab in honorable combat.” - -“Listen to the old bluff!” whispered Patsy Garvan to Nick Carter. -“‘Honorable combat,’ he says. Gee!” - -“The challenge was to all comers,” insisted Jai Singh. - -“It did not mean such as you,” was Calaman’s contemptuous retort. - -Jai Singh stood in front of the priest, his spear ready for action, but -with an expression of chagrin on his dark face that he could not hide. - -He made a last appeal: - -“Listen, Calaman: You have seen that you could not keep me in your -dungeon, and that should show you I am worthy to fight your Scarab. -If I can set you at defiance in your own temple, why should I not be -allowed to go further and prove that the things you send out to battle -for you are also of no account?” - -Jai Singh had purposely made his tone, as well as his words, as -insulting as he could. He wanted to stir the priest to unreasoning -wrath, believing that that might lead, sooner than anything else, to -his being accepted as a foe for the Golden Scarab. - -But Calaman was too crafty to be carried into indiscretion by his own -anger. - -He controlled himself with a strong effort, and waved Jai Singh away, -at the same time nodding to some of his attendants. - -The priest was really afraid that this tall, supple Hindu, with his -spear, might prove victor in a contest with the Golden Scarab, and he -dared not take the chance. - -Half a dozen soldiers jumped into the arena and cautiously approached -Jai Singh. - -“Stand back!” he warned them, flourishing his spear. “I am here, -standing on my rights, and I will not move.” Then, to Calaman: “You -have promised that if any champion beats the Scarab, he can claim any -reward he wants. Isn’t that so?” - -“It is the rule,” answered Calaman coldly. “But it does not concern -you.” Then, to his soldiers: “Seize him, guards! I’ll see whether -strangers of his race can come and beard me on this day of all -others—the most sacred one known to Shangore.” - -This bombastical speech did not impress Jai Singh. He raised his spear -with the firm intention of running through the body the first soldier -to come within reach, when a well-known voice in his ear thundered: - -“Stop, Jai Singh!” - -He swung around, to see that Nick Carter had rushed into the arena and -was facing Calaman with a half smile on his strong features. - -“Your spear, Jai Singh!” ordered the detective, extending his hand. - -Wonderingly, the Hindu placed the weapon in Nick Carter’s fingers, and -looked at him inquiringly. - -“Go back to the others,” Nick told him, in a low voice that no one else -overheard. “Be ready for any attack that may come. Understand?” - -Jai Singh made a low salaam, and, without looking again in the -direction of Calaman, strode across the sand and into the tunnel from -which he had emerged. - -Calaman had not been able to repress a start when Nick Carter suddenly -came into view and looked at him defiantly. - -The priest had been so much occupied with Jai Singh that he had not -seen whence the detective came. The first intimation he had of Nick’s -presence was when the intrepid American stood before him, taking Jai -Singh’s spear from his hand. - -It was inexplicable to Calaman that Carter should be free and in the -amphitheater so soon after he was known to be a bound captive in one of -the dark dungeons of the temple. - -The escape had been discovered some time before, and two priests had -been trying in vain to trace the fugitives. Now here was this white -man, quite at his ease, and without any bonds on him, prepared to -demand speech with the most powerful man in Shangore, the great priest, -Calaman! - -“I have heard the challenge,” called out Nick Carter, in a clear -voice, when the hubbub that had arisen on his advent had died down. -“I, Nicholas Carter, American, a white man, accept the challenge, -and will show this Golden Scarab that he can no longer claim to be -the invincible fighter of Shangore! Bring forth your Golden Scarab, -Calaman, and let me prove my words on him before you and all the people -of this great city.” - -Calaman swallowed his anger with a tremendous effort, and replied, -as if he were not at all taken aback by the appearance of his late -prisoner: - -“There is nothing to prevent your fighting, if you like. But your -chance is so small that I count you already a dead man. What fight you -with? The death stick that you have already shown me?” - -“No,” was the prompt reply. “My death stick might prevail. Probably -it would. But I shall meet my foe with this spear, that belongs to my -comrade, Jai Singh. Since you would not let him take up the challenge, -I appear in his stead, and with his weapon.” - -Calaman shrugged his shoulders. - -“It matters little what you fight with,” he sneered. “The end will be -your defeat.” - -“That remains to be seen,” was Nick Carter’s reply. “But I want it -understood here in public that I am to have the reward if I vanquish my -enemy in this fight.” - -“Most certainly,” answered Calaman. - -“Then I want to go free, with all my friends, including the white man, -Leslie Arnold, whom you have kept a prisoner since yesterday,” went on -Nick, in a ringing voice. “Do you grant that?” - -“I grant all that if you defeat the Golden Scarab,” answered Calaman. - -“Everybody has heard your promise,” was Nick’s rejoinder. “Now, bring -out this monster of yours, and I will see how much my chance of victory -is worth.” - -Nick Carter threw up his spear in salute and strode to the middle of -the arena. - -A faint cheer arose from the packed seats of the common people. It -was not very loud, because there was general awe of Calaman and his -associates, but it had burst forth involuntarily. - -Here was a man, for the first time in some fifty years, brave enough to -accept the challenge of the Golden Scarab. - -He was entitled to a cheer, and he got it. But there were few in that -vast assemblage who expected to see the valiant American leave the -place alive. - -The gates clanged, and, amid a deathly silence—as if all those -thousands of people were holding their breath in unison—the gigantic -beetle came darting out, bristling for the fray. - -Nick Carter was an adept in the use of the spear, as he was with all -other weapons. - -Naturally quick to pick up anything demanding great dexterity, he had -soon learned to swing and stab with a spear as skillfully as Jai Singh -himself. - -He had taken his first lessons years before. But he had done better -than that. Since he had been in India this time, he had placed himself -under the tutelage of Jai Singh, and had learned all the newer tricks -that had been acquired by the great Indian spearman himself. - -The detective stood his ground as his hideous foe approached. His spear -was ready to leap forward, seeking a vital part at any instant. - -The Scarab stopped. It seemed as if it realized that here was an -adversary not to be subdued in the ordinary way, and who, therefore, -must be treated with respect. - -Chick, Patsy, Jefferson Arnold, Adil, and Jai Singh were all watching -eagerly from their hidden place of vantage, but none of them spoke. The -situation was too tense for conversation. - -For nearly half a minute the Golden Scarab and Nick Carter stood still, -facing each other. Not a sound could be heard from all the multitude -that crowded the seats, tier above tier, around the immense arena. - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - - THE FATAL THRUST. - - -“Why didn’t he take his rifle?” whispered Patsy to Chick. - -“Because a bullet would be of no use against that heavy shell,” replied -Chick. “The only way to kill that animal would be to aim under it, and -that could hardly be done while it is jumping around. You may be sure -the chief believes a spear is the most handy tool for what he has to -do, or he would not have taken Jai Singh’s from him.” - -“My spear will do it, if anything can,” came in a gruff undertone from -Jai Singh. - -Chick had hit on the exact truth. Nick Carter had studied the strength -of the glittering shell of the monster during the three previous -contests—especially the third one, which was more nearly a fight than -either of the others. - -He had seen that heavy stones, thrown with great force, had not -disturbed the Scarab in the least, even when they struck it fairly and -squarely. - -The only chance of victory seemed to him to pick out some vulnerable -spot under the thick scales, and to do that a weapon which could be -handled at short range was essential. - -The spear was that weapon. A rifle bullet would not do. - -Nick Carter and his awe-inspiring foe were some thirty paces apart, -each looking for a chance to rush in. - -Suddenly the beetle charged upon its antagonist, its formidable horns -raised to deal the death stroke. But Nick Carter had gauged the pace to -an inch. - -As the great horns, with their poisonous points, opened, to slash him -to death, he gave vent to a derisive laugh, leaped clear over the -glittering, scaly back of the creature, and coming down firmly on his -feet, turned swiftly to strike with his spear. - -The Golden Scarab was too quick for him, however. It twisted like -lightning, and before he could thrust, was at him again. - -This time the claws missed him very narrowly. But Nick escaped by a -hand’s breadth, and dodging to one side, sent in two fierce stabs! - -The strokes were ineffective. They came against the scales, and the -spear quivered from end to end. - -The shock of the blows appeared to have hurt the Scarab a little, -however, for it seemed now as if it were trying to escape. One of its -hind legs dragged a little, and it was not so active as it had been at -first. - -“Gee! I believe the chief has got its number!” exclaimed Patsy -breathlessly. - -Nick Carter was quick to perceive his advantage. Changing his tactics, -the pursuer became the pursued. - -Around the arena raced the Golden Scarab, with Nick Carter close at its -heels, seeking to deliver a blow that would end the battle. - -Three times they made the complete circuit of the place, and each time -they passed the gateway through which the Scarab had come, it tried to -run in. - -But Nick was always there with his spear, and prevented the retreat -with very little trouble. - -The detective found that he could move twice as quickly as the beetle. -But he kept in mind the warning of Lord Slava, that one touch of the -creature’s horns meant death, and was careful never to let them come -too close. - -The face of Calaman was livid with fury and fear, but the crowds in the -seats bellowed encouragement in a great wave of noise that made any -words spoken in the amphitheater a mere waste of breath. - -It was now that the companions of Nick Carter, unnoticed in the general -excitement, stepped out from their hiding place, each—except Jai -Singh—with a rifle in his hand. - -There was no question that the Golden Scarab felt itself beaten, and -sought only to escape the weapon of the agile, watchful man, who seemed -to be on all sides at once. - -The monster, finding it could not run away, suddenly wheeled on Nick -and tried to lunge at him with its poisoned horns. But again the -detective easily evaded the attack, and, with a laugh, leaped to -safety. At the same time he brought his spear down with a crash on the -scaly back. - -It was evident to Nick Carter now that he had tired out his foe. At the -same time, he began to feel a little fatigued himself. - -“I’ll have to bring this performance to an end,” he muttered. “I -believe I’ve got this thing licked. But Calaman may try some dirty -trick on me if I don’t watch. So I guess I’ll——” - -Dodging this way and that, he sought an opening under the scales for a -thrust with his spear that would settle the argument, once for all. - -He did not jab downward, because he had satisfied himself that he could -not hope to pierce the scales. Instead, he was delivering half-arm -thrusts under the armor. All of them were too short, because he was -obliged to keep clear of the deadly horns. - -But his chance came at last. The Golden Scarab swerved to one side and -seemed to reel slightly. Instantly Nick Carter drove in his spear with -all his force, and the whole length of the barbed iron sank out of -sight in its body. - -The rear end crumpled up, and a hoarse scream came from it at the same -instant. - -Nick Carter believed he had given it a death wound. But he did not -relax his caution on that account. - -It was well that he did not, for the fore part of the creature swung -around and struck at Nick so viciously that he had only just time to -jump clear of the blow. - -“Look out, chief!” roared Chick. “He’ll get you yet if you don’t look -out! Mind those horns! Give him another stab! Get him somehow.” - -“Wow! Let me get into that!” shouted Patsy, running forward, rifle in -hand. - -“Come back, Patsy!” was Chick’s sharp command. “You can’t help. You’ll -only be in the way.” - -But Patsy had seen something that escaped his fellow assistant, and he -kept right on. - -“Here’s the gun, chief!” he shouted, as he held out his rifle. - -“Give it to me!” responded Nick Carter. “That was right, Patsy! Now get -back!” - -Patsy obeyed, and Nick felt the rifle with the fingers of an expert, to -make sure that there was a cartridge ready to be discharged. - -As Nick took the rifle, the Scarab made a violent swoop at him with -its right tentacle. If the detective hadn’t leaped aside, the poisoned -point would have gone through his thin linen trouser leg and wounded -him to death. - -“Not this time, my friend!” observed the American. - -He had jumped well back, out of reach of his foe. Dropping to one knee, -he leveled the rifle and steadied himself until the fore sight came in -line with the writhing, glittering head, and was clear of the people in -the seats beyond. - -Without hurry or excitement, he pulled the trigger. - -In the hush that had fallen over the immense amphitheater, everybody -heard the bullet strike. - -It had reached a vital spot, for the Golden Scarab rolled over sideways -and collapsed. - -It was not quite dead, however, for its middle part was moving feebly. - -“Wonder if I’d better give it another shot,” muttered Nick Carter, as -he watched. “Guess not! It’s still now. Looks as if I’ve settled the -thing, by George!” - -The awed silence which had fallen upon the great concourse was broken -by a frenzied scream from Calaman. He was giving a frantic order to -somebody to seize the white man who had profaned the great temple of -Shangore and killed the Golden Scarab! - -But no one took any notice of the powerful priest now. The people were -on their feet, most of them cheering the white man who had laid low the -beast which had terrorized every one for so many years. - -A number of Calaman’s guards, unable to shake off the awe they had so -long felt for Calaman, and perhaps not desiring to do so, rushed toward -Nick Carter. - -At the same moment, Chick, Patsy, Jefferson Arnold, Jai Singh, and -Adil ran into the ring from the other side and took their stand by -their calm-faced leader. - -Calaman’s soldiers stopped. They did not know what to do. There was a -look in Nick Carter’s gray eyes that told them they would have their -hands full if they came too near. - -“Good for you, Carter!” cried Jefferson Arnold. “By the great horn -spoon! I didn’t know whether you could do it or not.” - -“I didn’t know myself,” admitted Nick. “To tell the truth, it looked -like a very ticklish thing all through.” - -“Hey!” suddenly bellowed Chick. “Look who’s here!” - -Across the sand came bounding a great dog. He pushed aside two or three -of the soldiers, and the next minute had his paws on Nick Carter’s -shoulders and was licking his face. - -It was Captain! - -“All right, old man!” exclaimed Nick. “I know you mean well, but keep -away from my cheek, will you? Down, Captain!” - -The great bloodhound dropped to the sand at once, while the detective -patted his head with an affection that Captain understood even better -than words. - -“Look, chief!” cried Patsy Garvan. “They are setting all the prisoners -free!” - - - - - CHAPTER X. - - WHAT THE GOLDEN SCARAB WAS. - - -It was just as Nick Carter’s friends rushed to his side, to help him in -case there should be any hostile demonstration, that Lord Slava, with -his men, came swarming into the arena, and gave a loud command. - -The soldiers who had been under the dominion of Calaman were merely -hirelings, and when they saw that the death of the Golden Scarab -appeared to mean the overthrow of the men who had for so long been the -rulers, they were eager to flock to the new leader’s standard. - -So they rushed to the gates which held back the intended victims of the -Golden Scarab and flung them wide open. - -Out poured a number of prisoners, blinking in the sunlight, and most of -them wondering what it was all about. - -Suddenly, with a wild shout of delight, and a sobbing, hysterical -laugh. Jefferson Arnold dashed across the wide space and flung his arms -around a young man who was carrying a woman in his arms. - -“Leslie!” - -“Dad!” - -“Is it you? My boy?” - -Jefferson Arnold seemed as if he could not realize that he again had -his son back, and he squeezed Leslie without noticing that he held a -young woman in his arms. - -“Mind the lady, dad!” laughed Leslie. “She’s not very strong, and you -have a hug like a grizzly bear.” - -“Put her down, Leslie!” returned the millionaire. “What is the matter -with her? Poor thing! She looks dazed.” - -“No wonder,” said Leslie. “She was to have been the next one given to -the Golden Scarab. You’ve managed to save her somehow, but I don’t know -how.” - -“Carter did it!” answered Jefferson. “He’s killed the thing. Can’t -you give that poor girl to somebody to take care of, and come over -here? You know, my boy,” he whispered, in a grave tone, “I don’t know -whether we are out of this infernal trap yet. I hope we are, but I’m -not sure.” - -Just then Nick Carter came running up, with a rifle in his hand. He -gave the weapon to Leslie, together with a handful of cartridges. - -“There you are, old man!” he said hurriedly. “Use that if you have to. -I have an automatic and a few cartridges in my pocket, so I don’t need -the rifle. Pass the girl to somebody and come over here.” - -Leslie Carter beckoned to one of Lord Slava’s men, and put the young -woman in his charge. - -“Take care of her. It’s Lord Slava’s orders,” he said. - -This was not the absolute truth, but Leslie felt sure Slava would agree -when he was told. - -“Ready, Leslie!” asked Nick. - -“Quite!” - -“Come on, then!” - -Jefferson Arnold had a rifle in his hand, and, with his son by his -side, felt that he could defy the whole of Shangore. He grinned like a -schoolboy as he slapped Leslie on the back and rushed forward to help -his friends on the other side of the arena. - -Now that they had accomplished the purpose for which they had come, the -rescue of Leslie Arnold, Nick Carter and his friends would have been -content to go out of the city. - -But there was work to be done for the man who had given them their -first chance to overcome the Golden Scarab and save Leslie, by -releasing them from their dungeon—Lord Slava. - -With his soldiers at his back, he met the first rush of Calaman’s -forces. Nick Carter, Chick, Patsy, and the others were with him, and -they sent in a volley at close quarters that did terrible execution. - -Jefferson Arnold shot down three of the guards, and Chick accounted for -two more. As for Patsy, he did not know how many he got. He just pumped -bullets at the enemy with the same cheerful earnestness with which he -did everything that came in the line of duty. - -Calaman rushed forward with his men, wielding a long knife. - -As has been remarked already, the old priest was no coward. He was -willing to take all the risks that might be encountered by his men, and -he fought like a demon until he was laid low. - -It was Lord Slava who killed Calaman with a slash of his sword, -after he had parried a venomous cut the priest made at him with his -wicked-looking knife. - -With the death of Calaman, it seemed as if all the opposition to Slava -melted away. - -The followers of Calaman fled in all directions. They were chased -ruthlessly by the ordinary people whom they had tyrannized over for -years, and if there were some excessive cruelties by the indignant -populace now that they held the upper hand, it is not a cause for much -wonder. - -“Say, chief,” whispered Patsy to Nick Carter, “have you found out what -that big gold bug really is?” - -“No, Patsy. I have been too busy helping Lord Slava. His trouble is -about over now, however, and I have a little time to look over my late -enemy. Where is it?” - -“Still lying over there, where you knocked it,” was Patsy’s reply. -“It’s a wonder somebody didn’t drag it away, like they did the poor -wretches it killed.” - -Nick Carter, Chick, and Patsy all went over to examine the carcass of -the Golden Scarab. - -“Just what I thought,” muttered Nick, as he knelt by the side of it. “I -was pretty certain this was the game?” - -“What?” asked Chick. - -“I’ll show you.” - -The detective took his heavy jackknife from his pocket, and, without -ceremony, ripped open the monster with one long slash. - -The Golden Scarab was not a real beetle! - -Its form was built of fine steel bands and bamboo, and over it was -stretched a network of fine-meshed steel. It was a miracle of skill. -The steel network made a foundation for heavy scales like those of a -fish, made of pure gold. - -Besides this covering, there was a quantity of intricate mechanism, by -which the pretended beetle could be moved in any way that might have -been possible to a live one. - -Inside the case Nick Carter found three dead men. They had been the -moving spirits of the thing, and that they had done their work well was -proved by the fact that few people doubted the reality of the Golden -Scarab. - -“I didn’t take any stock in it,” declared Patsy. “You couldn’t tell me -a thing like that was alive.” - -“It was alive in a sense,” corrected Chick. - -“Well, you know what I mean,” grunted Patsy. “How did these men work -it, chief?” - -“Aren’t any of the men alive?” asked Chick. - -“No. They have all paid the penalty of their villainy,” was Nick -Carter’s reply. “I cannot say that I am sorry. They would have killed -Leslie Arnold if we had not come in time to stop the performance.” - -“That’s so. They got just what they deserved,” declared Patsy, with -decided vigor. - -“And that poor young woman was to have gone first of all,” added Chick. -“I wonder if she knows that her husband is dead.” - -“We won’t tell her, at all events,” said Nick. “Let me look over these -fellows in the Scarab, and see what killed them. Two of them were -caught by the spear. That’s plain enough.” - - -“This other one, in the head of the beast, has a bullet hole in his -forehead,” announced Chick. - -“He was the one who worked the horns and caught the victims in the -poisoned knives. What an unmitigated set of ruffians they were. They -were under the domination of Calaman, of course. But, if they had not -been evilly inclined to begin with, he would have known that they would -not serve him in this way.” - -“Calaman knew his men. You can bet on that,” remarked Patsy, with -conviction. - -Nick Carter did not reply. He was examining the mechanism of the horns. - -He found that they were hollow, and that they were jointed, like those -of a lobster, to give free play to an inward thrust. - -“We’ll have to get this fellow out before we can investigate properly,” -observed Nick. “Lend me a hand, Patsy!” - -Between them, they dragged out by the heels the man who had worked the -head of the Scarab. His arms had been fitted into the hollow horns, -and in each hand was a long, curving, narrow-bladed knife, with a very -sharp point. - -These knives formed the points of the horns, and were charged with a -deadly poison. - -The poison was concealed in the handles of the knives, the blades of -which were hollow, so that the deadly stuff would run through and empty -into a wound made by the weapon. - -The knives were gilded to look like part of the Scarab’s claws, the -whole work being completed with the skill that marked everything done -under the guidance of Calaman and his colleagues. - -“I always suspected that the Golden Scarab worked in this way,” put in -the deep voice of Lord Slava behind them. “I never knew till now. Well, -this is the end of that kind of thing.” - -Nick Carter got up and saw that Lord Slava was accompanied by a dozen -or so more of men of dignified mien, and he understood that the trouble -with Calaman’s guards was over. - -“Where are all the soldiers that were so bent on killing you and your -people a few minutes ago?” asked the detective. - -“A few of them are dead,” replied Slava, with a shrug. “But most -of them have gone to their quarters, to remain there till they are -summoned to the palace.” - -Hardly were the words out of Lord Slava’s mouth, when the sound of -tramping feet on the sand made them all turn around. - -There was a loud shout of angry men, and the next moment the little -party around the remains of the Golden Scarab found themselves in the -midst of as hot an affray as the average man could possibly desire. - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - - NICK HANDS BACK A RELIC. - - -“Beat them back, boys! It’s only a bluff!” shouted the voice of Leslie -Arnold, from somewhere in the middle of the invaders. - -“Look out!” bellowed Jefferson. “They’ve got my boy again! Carter, I -depend on you!” - -This was an unnecessary reminder. Nick had seen at a glance what the -trouble was all about, and he hurled himself into the thick of the -fighting with a vigor that sent half a dozen men reeling from him on -either side. - -As the detective thus made a way for himself, using only his fists, -Leslie Arnold broke away from two gigantic men in the uniform of -Calaman’s guards. - -“Lend me a gun, somebody!” shouted Leslie. “They’ve grabbed mine away -from me! A rifle, or pistol—anything that will shoot!” - -But Nick Carter merely caught the young fellow by the hand, and, with a -tremendous yank, dragged him away from the men who had been holding him. - -The result of the pull was that Leslie came staggering forward, and was -caught in the arms of his indignant father. - -By this time Nick Carter had drawn his automatic revolver and was -pointing it at the head of the foremost of the two men who had held -Leslie Arnold. - -The fellow knew enough of the power of the mysterious “death stick” to -be in dread even of a little one. As he saw the stern face behind the -revolver and watched the gently moving finger on the trigger, his mouth -opened in terror and he let his long spear fall to the ground. - -His companion, faced by a rifle in the hand of Chick, also let his -spear sink into the sand at his feet, while their followers, some -twenty strong, seemed ready to give up their weapons at the word of -command. - -“Stand!” roared Lord Slava, in a voice of thunder. “Who are you?” - -The two leaders were wise in their way, and they had gathered enough of -the trend of affairs in the last minute to understand that there had -been a great change in the government of Shangore—which, in effect, -meant all Bolongu. - -They were assisted to this conclusion by the spectacle of the dead -Calaman, who was being carried away by two men with no more respect -than had been shown to the remains of the men killed by the Golden -Scarab half an hour before. - -“We _were_ guards of the high priest Calaman,” was the reply of one -of the men, with a decided emphasis on the word “were.” “We are now -whatever my lord desires.” - -Lord Slava grinned at Nick Carter. - -“What do you think of these men?” he asked, in a low tone. “They were -seemingly loyal to Calaman. But they are mine now—until somebody takes -my power from me. Well, one must use what material comes to his hand. -These men are no worse than most others in Shangore. They have been -so oppressed for years that one cannot wonder they are truckling and -time-serving.” - -“What were they doing with my friend Leslie Arnold?” asked Nick. - -“We had been told by Calaman to take care of him if he escaped the -Golden Scarab,” said one of the two men. “We did not know that Calaman -was dead, and we were obeying orders.” - -“That’s just like Calaman,” remarked Lord Slava. “If, by any chance, -this young white man, Leslie, had beaten the Golden Scarab, then he was -to be put to death in some other way. I’m glad Calaman is dead.” - -“So am I,” roared Jefferson Arnold. “Because it saves me the trouble of -killing him. I would have done it right now, if somebody else hadn’t -done it first.” - -“Well, gentlemen,” said Lord Slava, “I think everything is safe now. By -the way, there are four servants of yours, who carried your baggage, -waiting in the palace. I had them there, feeling sure that we should -be victorious in what we have just now attempted, and I knew you would -want your men. I have been appointed provisional governor of Shangore. -You will dine with me to-night at the palace, will you not?” - -Nick Carter willingly accepted the invitation on behalf of his -companions, as well as himself, and then started out for a stroll about -Shangore, with only Chick, Patsy, and Captain for company. - -“I’ve always been saddled with old Calaman before when I looked over -the city,” he remarked. “It will be pleasant to go where we please and -see what we please, without that old rascal always on the watch.” - -The dinner that evening at the palace was well served, and Lord Slava -made a noble figure at the head of the table, as the host. - -There were fifty people at the great board, most of them of noble blood -and resembling in a general way Lord Slava himself. - -Nick Carter had the place of honor on the right of the host, with Chick -on his left. Close by were the two Arnolds and Patsy Garvan. The white -men declared afterward that they never had sat at a pleasanter dinner -table. - -It was proved that the educated inhabitants of Shangore were full -of wit and a certain delicate humor that would have done credit to -New York, Boston, or Philadelphia, not to leave out Chicago and San -Francisco. - -“Say, chief,” whispered Patsy, after a particularly good story by Lord -Slava, “we haven’t got anything on these people at our swell public -dinners in New York, have we?” - -“The after-dinner speaker and story-teller is not peculiar to any age -or clime,” laughed Nick Carter. “I hope they are taking care of Jai -Singh and Adil through all this.” - -“They are dining with my principal officers in an adjoining hall,” -volunteered Lord Slava, who had overheard the remark of his guest. “We -owe a great deal to Jai Singh. We must not forget that he wanted to -take up the challenge of the Golden Scarab. It was only the detestable -meanness and pretense of Calaman that prevented his doing the work that -fell to you, Mr. Carter.” - -“I can hardly feel bitter against Calaman for that,” laughed Nick. “I -had an experience in that arena which was entirely new to me, and I -must confess that I enjoy new sensations.” - -There was more talk and jollity over various things, and then Nick -Carter got to his feet, and in a speech that Patsy afterward said was -a bully one, thanked Lord Slava for his assistance in rescuing Leslie -Arnold, winding up by requesting him to accept the rifle that had -killed the head of the Golden Scarab and had helped to bring a better -government to Shangore. - -The rifle was accepted with thanks, and after the dinner Nick Carter -gave Lord Slava a few lessons in handling it. - -Early in the morning, three days later, the party of white men, with -their four coolies carrying provisions, and with Jai Singh and Adil -leading the way, departed for the mountain pass that would be their -first stage on the way home. - -Lord Slava sent an escort of a hundred men to get them through the -pass, after loading the four coolies with presents for their employers. - -These presents were mostly in the shape of jewels and golden ornaments, -so that they were not very heavy, although the coolies were so loyal -to Nick Carter that they would not have complained if they had had to -carry much more than they did. - -Slava had been chosen permanent governor of Shangore, and there was -great rejoicing all through the Bolongu country, as well as in the city. - -Before the soldiers who had brought them to the pass went back, Leslie -Arnold and his father had a rather lengthy confab apart from the rest -of their party. - -“I want to send something back to Lord Slava,” said Leslie. “If it had -not been for him, I shouldn’t be here now, in all probability. With -Carter and you shut up in that dungeon, what chance would you have had -of getting at me before that devilish beetle contrivance poisoned me to -death?” - -Jefferson Arnold shuddered. He knew too well how near he had come to -losing his only son. - -“You’re right there, Leslie,” he assented. “But what can we give to -Slava? The man has more gold and silver and precious stones than he -wants, as it is. I don’t know what we can give him that he would care -for.” - -“He would appreciate the sentiment of gratitude that prompted us, at -all events,” returned the young man. - -“That’s all right, Leslie,” grunted his father. “But I should like our -sentiment to take a form that would please him outside of that. Wait a -minute. We’ll ask——Hello, Carter!” - -“What is it?” asked the detective. - -“Come over here. We want to ask you something.” - -Nick Carter strolled over to the two Arnolds and gave them a -good-humored nod. - -“Go ahead! What’s the difficulty?” - -In a few words Leslie Arnold explained what they wanted to do, and the -quandary they were in as to how to do it. - -“We should like to present Lord Slava with something he would like to -possess, and at the same time make him understand in some tangible way -how grateful we are.” - -Nick Carter reflected for a few minutes. Suddenly he exclaimed, in a -tone of conviction, as he slapped his right fist into the palm of his -other hand: - -“I believe I have it!” - -“What?” asked Jefferson Arnold. “Something that he would like to have, -do you mean?” - -“That is exactly what I do mean,” replied the detective. “Moreover, I -have it right here, in my pocket.” - -“A photograph of yourself?” - -“No. Not exactly,” smiled Nick Carter. “I don’t suppose he’d care for -that.” - -“I don’t agree with you there,” dissented Leslie. “But what is it you -have?” - -Nick dived into one of his coat pockets and brought out a round object -wrapped in a cloth. - -“Here is something that I am sure Lord Slava would like to have. In -fact, I consider it belongs to him more than to any one else. I took it -to keep as a memento of this trip through India and of the people of -the Land of the Golden Scarab. But I willingly give it up.” - -He unrolled the cloth, and held up the shriveled head he had taken from -the cavern of the old witch doctor whom they had surprised hanging over -a brazier and caldron more than a week before. - -Jefferson Arnold and his son both backed away and looked incredulously -at Nick Carter—disgustedly, in fact. - -“What in thunder would he want such a thing as that for?” roared -Jefferson. “I can’t bear to look at it.” - -“Perhaps not. But don’t forget that this is the head of Prince Tillo, -an uncle of Lord Slava’s. Different people have different ideas, my -dear Arnold,” continued Nick Carter impressively. “I believe that if -Lord Slava had this mummified head to hang in the temple at Shangore, -he would be better pleased than with anything else you could give him. -Suppose you ask the captain of his guard over there.” - -After some persuasion, Jefferson Arnold followed Nick’s advice. The -eagerness with which the soldier took the grisly relic told them they -had hit on the right thing. - -“Lord Slava would have given many jewels for this,” he said. “May I -take it to him?” - -“You certainly may,” answered Jefferson, trying to hide a grimace of -disgust. “With my compliments, and the gratitude of both my son and -myself.” - - * * * * * - -It was three months later, when Nick Carter and his two assistants sat -in the handsome library in Nick Carter’s home in Madison Avenue, New -York, that the detective asked Patsy what the little three-cornered -plate of gold was that he had seen in his hand the night before. - -Patsy grinned. - -“It is a relic of our trip into Shangore, in the Himalayas,” he -replied. “I grabbed it before we left that amphitheater after all the -fuss. I found it in the sand.” - -“Well, but what is it?” - -“Only one of the scales from the Golden Scarab. I was going to have it -mounted in a frame, to hang up in the library. It was to be a present -to you from Chick and myself.” - -“I shall be very glad to accept it,” smiled Nick Carter. “It will help -me to realize, when I look at it, that all that adventure in Shangore -was not a dream.” - - - THE END. - -The next issue of the NICK CARTER STORIES, No. 136, out April 17th, -will contain “The Man They Held Back; or, Nick Carter’s Other Self.” -The plot of the story revolves around the machinations of a gang of -counterfeiters, whose ramifications reach far and wide. The great -detective, however, matches wits with the makers of “the queer,” and -the methods he pursues in breaking up the gang, and in bringing its -members to justice makes a story that you will thoroughly enjoy. - - - - - Dared for Los Angeles. - - By ROLAND ASHFORD PHILLIPS. - - (This interesting story was commenced in No. 134 of NICK CARTER - STORIES. Back numbers can always be obtained from your news dealer or - the publishers.) - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - - AN ADDED DISCOVERY. - - -After supper in the main shack with the others of the constructing -force, Nash sought the seclusion of his own little cabin. His trunks -had been brought up from San Fernando several days earlier, but until -now he had not had time to unpack them. The cabin had but one room, -and this he decorated with some photographs, magazine prints, and some -articles of a personal interest. - -He made an old box into a bookcase, and upon the shelves arrayed -his treasured volumes. These were principally books on engineering -and travel, although scattered among them might be found a favorite -adventure story or two, several bound collections of verse, and a bulky -dictionary. To the books of poetry he added the copy belonging to the -vagrant he had met that memorable day in Los Angeles. - -“A down-and-outer with a batch of Kipling’s ballads,” he muttered to -himself, as he picked the book from his trunk. “That’s a contrast for -you.” He sat down before the improvised bookcase and read through -some of the swinging verse. “Better than a tonic,” he murmured later, -looking at the clock and discovering he had been lost for nearly two -hours. “I don’t think that vag ever owned this book. Probably found it -in the park, or lifted it from a pocket. I wonder if he——” - -He stopped so abruptly that an observer might have thought a hand had -gripped his throat. A strange, unpleasant thrill raced up his spine; -his eyes remained glued to the half-blank page he had inadvertently -turned. - -There, across the white space, in a thin, angular hand, was written: -“To Walter Trask, from his Sister Ethel. Christmas, 1911.” - -For a minute Nash stared at the writing, his thoughts galloping far -away—far beyond the miles of mountain ranges, beyond the limitless -stretch of prairie, where, for the moment, he lived over again that -black hour in the bunk house. Mentally he recalled the shouts, the -questioning voices, the sharp crack of a revolver fired in the closed -room. Then the mêlée of fists—the still, deathlike face of the man on -the floor—— - -Nash drew in a deep breath and passed a quick hand across his eyes. -“What a small world it is, after all!” he reflected. This little -volume, picked from the pocket of an unfortunate, had belonged to -Walter Trask. What strange trick of Destiny had willed it here, in -Nash’s hands? - -He closed the book and placed it among the others. “I wonder,” he said -aloud, staring ahead of him with unseeing eyes, “how it is all to end? -There’s a little rhyme somewhere—Kipling’s, too—that reads: ‘The sins -men do, two by two, come back to them one by one.’” - -He got into bed that night with a solemn resolution to banish forever -the past from his thoughts. The things that had happened were buried, -and all the post-mortem examinations ever devised would not help -matters. - -Here he was to-day, with a shoulder to the wheel, his quota of -strength helping, with the thousand others, to push to completion this -wonderful aqueduct that the City of Angels might be supplied with cold, -crystal-clear water from the realms of eternal snow. The immensity and -daring of the project thrilled him; day by day it grew; day by day he -gloried in the thought that he was to contribute a mite toward the -great achievement. - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - - GETTING ACQUAINTED. - - -Nash accepted his new responsibilities in a manner that won him instant -favor, not alone from his superiors, but from the men under him—the -motley siftings of many races. And in turn Nash interested himself in -their welfare. Knowing that as a chain is only as strong as its weakest -link, so he knew that a body of men, striving for one end, must, work -collectively and without friction to reach that goal. - -In the beginning, he determined upon a certain amount of work to be -completed in a daily shift. He took the men into his confidence—made -them feel a part of his responsibility—encouraged them to strike a -record and never fall short of it. Nor was it an easy victory, this -final whipping into line—with kindness and consideration instead of -the usual oaths and doubled fists—of the passive Hindus, the silent, -stolid-faced Japs, the crafty, catlike Mexicans, and the cheerful, -singing Italians. But it was accomplished, and in time Nash became -known as possessing the best working crew on the length of the aqueduct. - -Hooker said to him one day: “Nash, you’re doing more work and better -work with half the number of men than Macmillan did with a full -crew—and in a third the time. There’s a hundred-dollar bonus coming to -you for last month’s construction.” - -The aqueduct being a municipal undertaking, the city of Los Angeles -awarded a bonus each month to the foreman under whose direction more -than the average amount of work was done. The thought that his gang had -won out over all the others on the whole construction was a feather -in Nash’s cap, and he felt as proud as though he had won a million. -When the money was presented to him, he took it and distributed the -sum among the men. Encouraged by this gift, they won for him the bonus -during the following two months. - -During all this period, devoting every thought to his work, Nash was -irritated by Hooker’s peculiar manner—his sly questioning, veiled -suggestions, and his continual drunken sprees. While no liquor was -allowed in any of the camps, the foreman kept his own cabin well -stocked, and when a man wanted a drink he knew just where to get it. - -Realizing the exposure which would surely come, Nash spoke to the -foreman about it, but gained nothing more than a wink and a slap on the -back. - -“What the devil, Nash!” he would say. “A man’s got to have a little -recreation. I’m built for so much work and so much play. Nothing like a -little redeye to cheer a fellow up. Blamed sorry you won’t join in the -fun.” - -“It’s against the city regulations,” Nash said. “The inspectors will -get wise one of these days. Then your head will go in the basket.” - -But Hooker waved aside all the arguments. “I’m running Camp -Forty-seven, Nash, and I’m pretty particular as to who I’m treating. -Besides, Sigsbee knows just what is going on—and he looks the other -way. Oh, Sigsbee is a live one, he is.” - -The mention of Sigsbee’s name brought a flood of recollections upon -Nash. Hitherto he had fought shy of this man—the mysterious person who -had signed the letter that gained him his position—not because he was -afraid, but because he did not care to muddle up the affair should it -come to answering questions. - -Hooker took it for granted that Nash knew Sigsbee, and all his -conversation was based on this fact. Many a time Nash was puzzled as -to the proper answer to give when the subject was brought up, but so -far had managed very nicely to thwart any suspicion which the foreman -might have entertained. That it could not last forever, Nash knew well -enough; but how it was to end, and where, and at what cost, was beyond -the horizon. - -Being on intimate terms with Hooker, Nash marveled at the system that -prevailed in the matter of engaging help. The newcomer stood no chance -in the world unless he brought with him a note signed with that magic -name of Sigsbee. The common laborers, however, were the one exception -to this ironbound rule. - -With the foreman, it was: “Sigsbee wants this,” and “Sigsbee wouldn’t -stand for that,” and very often “Sigsbee is the live wire on this -aqueduct deal.” Sometimes he was referred to as “the old man.” - -One evening, while visiting in Hooker’s cabin and checking up some of -the work already completed, the foreman handed a newspaper to Nash. - -“The old man’s getting to be a real sport,” he said, laughing. “Look -what the Los Angeles _Times_ has to say about his dinner party.” - -Nash read the item: - -“A novel and delightful slumming party was given last night in honor -of the eldest daughter of Jim Sigsbee, the well-known politician. The -party of thirty were taken through Chinatown and afterward enjoyed a -supper in the underground quarters of Sing Foo, the Chinese mayor. To -add to the novelty, the guests were taken in automobiles to Long Beach, -where the braver members indulged in a midnight swim.” - -Nash joined in the foreman’s laugh. “Society in the West is getting as -hard up for novelties as the crowd at Newport,” he ventured, returning -the paper. - -Later, however, as he bid Hooker good night and strolled slowly across -to his own shack, he had drawn one conclusion that started him on the -right path, at least. - -“Sigsbee is a well-known Los Angeles politician,” he told himself, -quoting the line from the newspaper item. “And his family stands -well in society. The question is now: What has he to do with Camp -Forty-seven?” - -Nash let himself into the shack, and, divesting himself of some of his -clothes, sat down beside the window and took in the view of the valley. -The brilliant moonlight flooded the land with silver. - -“The aqueduct is a municipal affair,” he replied, bringing up all -the facts in the case. “Sigsbee is a prominent politician. Engages -personally all the better class of help on Camp Forty-seven. All the -bills are paid from the Los Angeles treasury.” - -A sudden idea flashed over him, but it seemed so preposterous that he -laughed it away. - -“I can’t afford to worry too much about Sigsbee,” he said. “I’ll do the -best I know how with the job I have, and if it comes to a show-down, -I’ll confess the truth about the letter.” - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - - ON THE FIFTEENTH. - - -For several weeks after this, things ran on smoothly. Nash progressed -swiftly with his work, the usual perfect California weather prevailed, -and Hooker remained sober. - -One day the foreman left for Los Angeles on business, returning the -same evening. The moment he caught sight of him, Nash’s heart sank. -Hooker was so intoxicated that two of the office employees had to carry -him from the wagon to his cabin. - -“I thought you were going to cut out this sort of thing,” Nash said, -helping the foreman into the room. - -“Well—I jus’ couldn’t help it,” struggled Hooker. “I was—in town -all—day. Saw—saw Sigsbee. We—had a glorious—time—so—so pleasant, the -old man—is.” - -“Do you know what day of the month this is?” asked Nash. - -“Day of—the month?” repeated Hooker, smiling and shaking his head. -“Sure—sure I do! It’s—Monday, ain’t it?” - -“It’s the fifteenth, too. You know what that means, don’t you?” - -“Fifteenth?” Hooker lifted his head, making a futile attempt to hold it -steady. “What’s—that——” - -“This is inspection day, Hooker. You knew it. The city inspector is -below, in Forty-six. He’ll be here in another hour. You’ve got to brace -up. Understand me? I’ll make you some hot coffee, and you take it down -black.” - -“’S’all right,” the foreman gulped. “Don’t worry. I’m—I’m not drunk. -I’ve fooled ’em before—sure I have.” His head fell back upon the -pillow, and he mumbled something to himself. - -“If they find you in this condition, you know what it’ll mean, Hooker.” - -Nash busied himself right away, leaving the foreman in charge of -another man, while he hurried over to the kitchen and got a can of -strong, black coffee. - -“Get this down, Hooker,” he commanded firmly. - -The foreman, who apparently had aroused himself to the necessity of -immediate action, took a deep draft of the coffee. - -“Ah-h!” he breathed finally. “That’s good. I’ll—be all—right. Jus’ let -me—sleep for a few minutes.” - -He fell asleep at once. Meanwhile, Nash joined the supper crowd, ate -his meal in silence, and promptly returned to where the foreman was -slumbering. - -The city inspector put in an appearance at eight o’clock, driving down -from Camp Forty-six. Warned of his coming, Nash attempted to arouse -Hooker, but failed absolutely. The foreman was dead to the world. Nash -was always a quick thinker, but at this particular instant his brain -worked at double time. - -The inspector always examined the books of the camp, checked off the -supplies, the pay roll, and the expense account, taking duplicate -copies into Los Angeles. Hooker had always attended to this, being in -full charge of the camp. Now, with the foreman in a drunken sleep, -there was but one thing to do—and Nash set out to accomplish it. - -He admitted the inspector to the large room in front, which served as -an office. - -“Where’s Hooker?” was the first question of the inspector. - -“Very sorry, sir, but the foreman isn’t at all well,” Nash explained. -“Has been under the weather all day, and just an hour or so ago we got -him asleep. I don’t think there will be any necessity of calling him. I -can check over the lists with you.” - -“Not just the usual thing to do,” snapped the inspector irritably. “But -I guess it’s the only way out of the difficulty. Besides, I want to -drive on down to Forty-five before midnight—so we may as well begin.” - -He removed his hat and coat, while Nash brought out the books and -the voucher files and the pay roll. These the inspector went over -critically and with a speed that suggested years of experience in -similar work. When he came to a snag, Nash helped him out. Nash was -surprised at his own familiarity with the details of construction, and -more than once the inspector turned upon him a sharp, quizzical glance. - -Finally, after checking over an endless row of figures, the man said: -“What’s your position here?” - -“I’m subforeman under Mr. Hooker.” - -“Duties?” - -“In charge of the conduit construction.” - -The inspector reflected a moment. “Wasn’t that Macmillan’s position?” -he asked. - -“Until a month or so ago,” Nash said. “Hooker dismissed him for -incompetency.” - -“So?” The inspector frowned, and appeared surprised. However, he asked -no more questions. - -“We’ll take the pay rolls now,” he said sharply, lapsing back into his -former impersonal and businesslike way. - -Nash produced the book and began to call off the different gangs, the -numbers they went under, and the total wage list each subforeman was -responsible for. He reached his own name, called out the four figures -down on the sheet—then hesitated. - -“What’s that again?” asked the inspector. - -“Five thousand four hundred and eighty,” Nash read slowly, still -puzzling over the discovery. - -“Five thousand four hundred and eighty—O.K.,” repeated the other. Then, -pen suspended in air, he said: - -“That’s your own gang, isn’t it? What are you stumbling over the -figures for?” - -“I—the figures are blotted. I couldn’t just make them out,” Nash -answered. - -The inspector grunted, and called for the next set. Another hour, and -the inspection was over. The city representative thrust the sheaf of -papers into his pocket, and hurriedly donned his coat and hat. - -“Wonder how Hooker is by this time?” he asked. - -Nash opened a door in the rear and peered into the darkened chamber. -The inspector pushed past and walked to the bed. - -“Hum-m-m!” he grunted. “He sure sleeps. Guess we won’t disturb him. -Tell him everything’s O.K., will you?” - -“Yes, sir,” Nash responded, thankful that the worst was over. He -followed the man outside to where his team waited, bid him good night, -and watched as the light buggy disappeared up the cañon road. - -After that Nash returned to the office and went through a certain -section of the pay rolls, comparing the added figures with the ones put -down in his own book. - -At the end of an hour he tiptoed in, saw that Hooker was still -sleeping; then, blowing out the lamp, he closed the door and walked -slowly over to his own cabin. Sleep, for the remainder of the night, -was an impossibility. The Unexpected had landed a heavy blow. - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - - IN THE MORNING. - - -The next day Hooker was both sober and repentant. He seemed to remember -faintly what had transpired the night previous; and when Nash had -finished breakfast, he called him aside. - -“How did you make out last night, Nash?” he asked apprehensively. “Did -you trip on anything?” - -Nash had fully determined to see the foreman the first thing in the -morning, and was glad of this opportunity to speak of the matter. - -“Just what do you mean by that?” - -“Why, wasn’t old Boyer, the inspector, here?” - -“He was.” - -“Well, how did you get around the affair? I was dead to the world, -wasn’t I? What did the old crab say?” - -“I explained matters as best I could,” Nash answered. “Said you were -ill—which wasn’t a lie—and told him I’d pitch in and help him on the -books.” - -“What was the report?” - -“He said everything was O.K.” - -The foreman breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s something to be -thankful for. You’re a brick, Nash! You certainly know how to handle -some things.” - -Nash accepted the praise, such as it was, without replying. The only -thing that had been troubling him since the inspector’s departure -leaped to his tongue. - -“Do you know how many men are under me, Hooker?” he inquired. - -“Why, I suppose so. Don’t you? Don’t the books show?” - -“Yes, the books show—but they don’t balance with mine.” - -The foreman allowed a frown to creep around his lips; his brow -wrinkled. “What are you getting at, Nash?” - -“I checked off the pay roll to Boyer last night,” Nash said. “Your -books credit my department with something greater than five thousand -dollars. There’s a mistake, of course. I allowed it to go at the time, -because I wasn’t absolutely certain until I compared the totals with my -own memoranda.” - -During their conversation, they had gradually left the big dining hall -and had covered perhaps a quarter of a mile in the direction of Nash’s -operations. This last remark, delivered in such a matter-of-fact tone -by Nash, brought Hooker to an abrupt halt. - -“Your memoranda?” exclaimed the foreman. “Say, what are you driving at, -Nash?” - -“I’m trying to convince myself that those figures on the pay roll, -which the inspector accepted as O.K., are mistakes—unintentional -mistakes.” - -“Are you serious?” demanded Hooker. - -“I certainly am.” - -“Do you mean to tell me that my books are—are off color?” - -“I’d hate to believe it, Hooker,” Nash answered. - -The foreman appeared to be dumfounded. “What—what sort of a memorandum -have you been keeping?” he asked. - -“A personal one,” said Nash. “I always believed in a system. I want to -know what each of my men is accomplishing. I want to know just how much -money I am spending for the city of Los Angeles, and what I am giving -in return. One thing is absolutely certain: My salary list has never -reached half the sum that you have me credited for.” - -Hooker calmly folded his arms and stared at the speaker. “Nash,” he -said, “do you remember what I said to you the first day we met?” - -“I believe it was something about knowing when to shut my mouth, wasn’t -it?” - -“Exactly. I said I admired you because you seemed to be sensible, -because you possessed a valuable asset in your silence. It seems my -ideals are shattered.” - -“Hooker,” Nash replied frankly, “I’m a native of Los Angeles. I love -that city, and I’m going to protect its interests. I haven’t any -authority over you, or over your dealings. I can only concern myself -with the things——” - -“Why didn’t you say you were a local man, in the first place?” -interrupted the foreman. “I understood you came from New York.” - -“I did come from there. But I was born and lived twenty-two years in -Los Angeles. I’ve had enough experience in the engineering line to put -me wise to a great many tricks, Hooker. This isn’t the first time I’ve -bucked up against the same game.” - -“Game?” retorted Hooker, his face clouding. “What the——” - -“Yes, game!” Nash snapped out the word. “And padding the pay roll isn’t -a very original one, either.” - - - - - CHAPTER X. - - THE MYSTERY DEEPENS. - - -An interruption at this critical moment put an end to further -argument. One of the subforemen, with a roll of blue prints, engaged -Hooker’s attention, and Nash, aware of the time, and of the fact that -considerable work had to be accomplished that day, abruptly turned -away, leaving the foreman to brood over the dénouement. - -Since the discovery last night, Nash had not allowed the affair to -blind him; he had looked at the situation in the fairest possible -light. Coming so abruptly, it stunned him at first. He had always -imagined Hooker, while quarrelsome and quick-tempered at times, to -stand for what was honorable—especially in a business way. Even after a -careful comparison of the ledger with his own memorandum, Nash tried to -believe that it had been a mistake—a slip of the pen turning the figure -3 into a 5. He even assured himself that once explained, the foreman -would rectify the error immediately. - -It was only now, after the short conversation with Hooker, that Nash -realized the truth. The figures in the ledger, O.K.’d by the city -inspector, were far from being mistakes; they had been placed there -deliberately, and with but one intent: namely, to defraud the city. - -These facts were with Nash the rest of the day, but he tried hard not -to allow them to interfere with his work. When the screech of the -steam shovel sounded at five o’clock, he finished with the task at -hand, saw that the regular preparations for the night were made, and -then returned to camp, going direct to his shack, without a glimpse of -Hooker. - -He was a trifle dubious as to the final outcome of the affair, and was -glad, an hour or so later, when he saw the foreman coming up the path. - -“Hello, Nash!” was the greeting. “How’s the work progressing?” - -“Couldn’t be better,” Nash answered, wondering at the other’s tone and -manner. - -Hooker came in and sat down. He rolled himself a cigarette and lighted -it before going on. - -“Do you know, Nash,” he said, “you’re the best man I’ve ever employed -on a job—and I’ve been in the business twenty years.” He blew out -a cloud of smoke and watched it drift through the open door into -the lowering twilight. “I’m anxious to help you along, too,” Hooker -continued. “I’ve put you down on the list for a raise in salary.” - -Nash leaned back in his chair and gazed quietly into the other’s partly -obscured face. - -“Thank you, Hooker. I have tried my best to please you—and the ones -higher up. That’s why I called your attention to the—certain figures in -the ledger.” - -The foreman turned his face quickly, snatching the cigarette from -between his lips. - -“Are you still harping on that?” he demanded irritably. “I thought we’d -settled it this morning.” - -“It had only started then,” Nash replied. “I told you—or meant to tell -you—that as long as I was a subforeman I wouldn’t allow any crooked -work to go on in my department. I don’t know what is going on in the -other divisions; I’m not expected to—but I’m responsible for the -conduit construction work, and it’s got to be on the level.” - -“You’re putting it pretty strong,” Hooker returned, realizing now that -all pretense had to be thrown aside. - -“I hope I do. The stronger the better.” - -“You’d sacrifice a good job just because your eyes are too confounded -sharp, eh?” - -“Put it that way if you will,” Nash said quietly. “I have no authority -over the dozen or more other departments, but the conduit work, bearing -my O.K., must be clean and aboveboard.” - -“See here, Nash,” burst out Hooker, “what’s got into you? I thought you -had sense—I thought you were wise to some things. Sigsbee must have -thought so, or he wouldn’t have asked me to put you to work. The old -man seldom makes a mistake.” - -The mention of that politician’s name sent Nash’s mind racing again. It -was on the tip of his tongue to confess everything, when a totally new -idea swept over him. He was still considering it when the foreman began -talking again. - -“I like you, Nash,” he said. “You’re a good worker, and in many ways -you’ve exceeded my expectations. But you lack—er—well, we might call it -tact.” - -Nash smiled. “I think I displayed a little of that quality when I -prevented the inspector from learning the truth about you last night, -Hooker.” - -The foreman shrugged. “Of course,” he admitted reluctantly. “In all -probability, you saved me my job—and I’m grateful. But I hate to see a -smart fellow like you lose out because you’re so—finical.” - -“Finical?” Nash delivered the question leaning forward in his chair, -the lines of his strong face set grimly, resolutely. Hooker’s features -were indistinct now in the gloom; only the red end of his cigarette -alternately glowed and died away. “You know better than that, Hooker. -You’re giving your aid to a piece of dirty work—and inwardly I’m sure -you’re ashamed. I can’t help you. I’ll leave to-morrow if you say so. -I’m on the square, and I want others to be. This game hits me harder -because it is aimed against the city of my birth. I was born in Los -Angeles, and I’m proud of it. You’re cheating every one of its three -hundred thousand citizens. They’re building this aqueduct, and they -expect every man to do his duty.” - -“Good Lord!” exclaimed Hooker. “You’re ringing in sentiment. It always -did amuse me the way you natives blow your own horns. What the devil do -you suppose the city of Los Angeles cares about you? Take it from me, -Nash, sentiment and business don’t mix worth a cent.” - -“Your opinions and mine differ on more than one subject,” Nash replied -dryly. - -Hooker tossed away his cigarette with a show of annoyance. - -“You’re a mystery to me, Nash,” he declared. - -Nash lighted the big lamp on the table before he answered: - -“I don’t know why I should be. Is it because I——” - -A broad, trembling beam of white danced through the uncurtained window, -interrupting his speech. Both men turned instinctively. Hooker, the -nearest to the window, suddenly exclaimed: - -“That’s an automobile headlight! Now, who do you suppose would be fool -enough to tackle these roads at this time of night?” - -A big machine swept into view by this time, and both men left the shack -and walked toward it. - -The car was of the roadster type, and was occupied by one man, who, -instantly he caught sight of Nash and Hooker, lifted a questioning -shout: - -“Hello! That you, Hooker?” - -Hooker stifled an exclamation, and hurried forward, Nash following -calmly. The man in the car had stepped out and was talking hurriedly -to the foreman. As Nash came up, standing within the white glow of the -twin headlights, Hooker turned. - -“Guess you two gentlemen are acquainted, aren’t you?” he said, smiling. - -Nash looked steadily into the stranger’s face. - -“I don’t believe I’ve had the honor,” he answered. - -Hooker turned swiftly to the other. “Why, you surely know Nash, don’t -you?” - -“Can’t say as I’ve ever met him before,” was the reply. - -Hooker fell back as if some one had struck him across the face. - -“Do you mean—mean to say,” he stammered, “that you two have never met -before?” - -“I guess that’s about the size of it,” announced the stranger. - -Hooker was speechless. Nash looked from one to the other of the men, -waiting patiently—not a little curiously, too—for the introduction that -did not come. - -Finally, with a shrug of indifference, the stranger turned back to the -machine. - -“I’m in a big hurry, Hooker,” he snapped. “I want to see you right -away. Can you spare me a little time?” - -“Of course,” the foreman replied dully, as if his mind was a dozen -miles away from the subject. - -Realizing that he was the unwelcome third party, Nash whirled about and -went back to his shack. The moment he was out of hearing, the foreman -and the stranger left the machine standing in the road and walked -across to Hooker’s cabin. - -“What the devil’s all this fuss about?” the newcomer burst out. - -“I’ll explain in just a second,” Hooker answered. “I want to arrange -one matter before then.” - -They stepped into the big room of the cabin. Hooker lighted a lamp -and pulled down the curtains. Then, without a word to his visitor, he -jerked the receiver from the telephone and called for a certain person. - -“Hello!” he snapped presently, in a hard, tense voice. “That you, -Martin? This is Hooker. Now, listen to what I’m saying: I want you -to come up here immediately. Understand? I want you to keep an eye -on Nash, and see that he doesn’t try to get away from the camp. -I’m holding you directly responsible. You must not let him out of -your sight until you hear from me. Get that? And if it comes to a -show-down—well, you know what to do. Remember all of that?” - -The response must have been satisfactory, because Hooker immediately -hung up the receiver and turned a relieved face toward the other -occupant of the room. - -“Now I’ll explain,” he said. - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - - THE CRISIS. - - -The two men, secure in the big, lamp-lighted room, stared expectantly -into one another’s eyes. Hooker was trembling, his face white, despite -the tan. He attempted to roll a cigarette before beginning, but his -fingers refused to obey. The other man appeared to be more annoyed than -otherwise. - -“Do you insist that you never before saw that man who was with me -to-night?” the foreman asked. - -“Never.” - -“Then how did he happen to have a letter, signed by you, asking that I -give him a position?” - -“A letter from me?” The other man—it was Jim Sigsbee himself—allowed a -frown to creep between his eyes. - -“Yes, from you,” affirmed Hooker. “Of course, I didn’t ask questions. I -put him to work. He was a clever man. He’s now in charge of the conduit -construction.” - -“What is his name?” - -“Elliot Nash. At least, that’s what he wanted me to call him.” - -“Well, what’s the excitement? You look as if you’d received a ten-year -sentence to the pen!” - -“Well,” returned Hooker, leaning nearer the politician, his face -working strangely in the yellow lamplight, “that’s just what I want to -avoid. That’s why I called up Martin a minute ago. I wanted to be on -the safe side.” - -Sigsbee’s interest increased. - -“Well, come out with the whole story,” he said. “I can stand for it. -What’s wrong?” - -“The inspector—Boyer—was here last night. I was—was ill. Couldn’t see -him as usual. Nash happened around and checked over the books with him.” - -Sigsbee was breathing faster now. - -“Well, well, go on!” - -“This Nash is a systematic chap. Kept a memorandum of everything in his -department. He’s wise to the pay-roll game.” - -“You shouldn’t have allowed him to see——” - -“Allowed him?” Hooker interrupted bitterly. “What else was I to do? -Didn’t he have a letter from you? How was I to know? I thought of -course you knew the man, and that he was wise to things. That’s why I -trusted him in a dozen different ways.” - -The politician was beginning to share the foreman’s uneasiness. - -“Did he come to you after he found out about the pay-roll figures?” he -asked. - -“Yes. He said he thought at first it was a mistake in the bookkeeping. -I imagined he was joking. When I found he was serious, I began to get -worried.” - -“Has he threatened?” - -“Not exactly. But he intends to resign unless his department is run -on the square. Handed me a bunch of stuff about being a native of Los -Angeles, and how he dreaded to see its citizens get the little end of -the deal.” - -“Why not let him resign?” Sigsbee said, after a moment’s hesitation. -“It’ll save explaining, and clear our minds a bit——” - -Hooker broke in angrily: “Look here, Sigsbee, you’re a sensible man. -Hasn’t it occurred to you that possibly some one suspects our game and -has taken this method of getting the goods on us? We don’t know how -Nash got that letter, but in all probability it was just a part of a -well-laid scheme. It gave him the opportunity of working on the job and -getting the proofs firsthand.” - -“I hadn’t looked at it in that light,” Sigsbee said, plainly affected -by the foreman’s statement. “But it sounds reasonable enough. I’ve -been uneasy myself for the past month or so. There’s something in the -air—that ominous calm before a storm possibly. Somehow, every time I -step into the city hall I expect a hand to descend upon my shoulder. -The evening papers are hinting about the amount of money being spent. I -don’t know where it’ll all end.” - -“I know,” vehemently declared Hooker. “It’ll be a change of clothes and -a State boarding house—all without cost to us.” - -“Things are looking serious, Hooker, but——” Sigsbee remained buried in -thought for the time. Finally he resumed: “Are you satisfied that Nash -is a city spotter?” - -“Doesn’t all the evidence point that way?” - -Sigsbee had to admit it did. “I’d like to know how he came in -possession of my letter,” he went on. “If he found it and needed a job, -and took that method of obtaining it—we’re still safe. But if it was -all a cleverly worked-out scheme, such as you seem to believe—well, -things look doubtful.” - -“I don’t think the news has gone beyond this camp,” Hooker ventured to -hint. “There’s some consolation in that, eh?” - -Sigsbee’s eyes came up swiftly. “You mean we might prevent him from——” -He broke off. - -“Why not? Desperate cases demand desperate measures. It doesn’t seem -right that one man should deprive us of all our reward. Now, if he was -only out of the way——” - -“We’re in too deep right now,” the politician broke in. “What you -suggest would only bring the police and the reporters about us.” - -Hooker laughed mirthlessly. “What did I suggest?” - -“Why, you said——” the other began. - -“Don’t you know, on jobs of this kind, Sigsbee, that a dozen accidents -happen every day? Do you know that we’ll average a dozen deaths a month -right here in this camp? A steam shovel breaks, or some chain slips, or -maybe there’s a rock slide. If you say the word, I’m sure Martin could -arrange everything.” - -“That would be very well,” Sigsbee said, weighing the matter calmly, -“if we were positive of two things: That Nash is not a spotter, and -that he alone knows of our affairs.” - -Hooker walked slowly up and down the room, his hands clenched at his -sides. Sigsbee, huddled in a chair before the table, watched him -narrowly. - -“We’ve had smooth sailing for three years,” the foreman said, at -length. “And at the best we could only have one more year—possibly -eighteen months. I’d like to wash my hands of the whole affair.” - -“I’m with you there,” responded Sigsbee. “I’d like to drop the -game—drop it before we’re shown up.” - -“Well, what’s to prevent it?” asked Hooker, pausing beside the other’s -chair. “Why can’t we?” - -“We’re in deep—infernally deep,” Sigsbee said gravely. “I’m afraid -they’d trace it back. You know, I haven’t the best of reputations -since that affair in Chinatown. Once let the rumor get out, and have -the newspaper fellows nosing around——” He paused and shrugged. “I’ve -a family to consider, too. If Nash should meet with an accident, -such as you’ve suggested, how do we know but there might be a dozen -others—friends, possibly, who’d out with the story? If he’s a spotter, -he’s no fool.” - -“Why not pass a little of the long green before his eyes?” the foreman -spoke up swiftly. “Most of us fall for that.” - -But Sigsbee shook his head. For some time he was steeped in thought, -staring across at the opposite wall, his fat white fingers toying with -his watch chain. - -“Do you suppose this man would visit me in the city?” he asked, at -length. - -“I suppose so,” moodily responded Hooker. “Why?” - -“Will you ask him to call to-morrow at my office?” - -“If you insist. But I tell you, Sigsbee, it’s playing with fire. One -little word from him, and the whole town would be up in arms. We’ve got -him safe as it is. Martin won’t let him get out of camp. I don’t see -why we want to——” - -“I’ll see him at my office to-morrow at two o’clock,” Sigsbee -interrupted, heedless of the other’s protests. “And as for you, Hooker, -maybe I’ll give you the vacation you wanted.” - - - TO BE CONTINUED. - - - - - SOUND SLEEPERS. - - -Mr. Boyle says that it is one of the amusements of West Africa to show -strangers how a Fantee boy can sleep. A friend of his wishing to rouse -some servants and send them to close the shutters and lock the doors, -said to him: - -“I’ll show you something which you wouldn’t believe on hearsay.” - -Thereon he grasped a boy by the heels, dragged him a yard or so, turned -him over, and roughly lifted him to a sitting posture; the youth sat -up, rubbed his eyes, scratched his head, and went to sleep again. To -another he did the same, with a like result. - -Having thus got the two alongside, fast asleep, he dragged one on top -of the other, and left them a moment; they slumbered placidly in that -position. He then ran amuck at them, being in slippers, and upset -the pair, and ordered them loudly to close the shutters. They both -got up, eyes wide open, and apparently conscious; one walked gravely -downstairs, the other retired, with all semblance of reason, to the -pantry alongside. - -The one who went down came up again in two minutes, still with his eyes -wide open, and leisurely lay down to sleep again; the other we found -fast snoozing in the pantry on a stool. We took them up, and shook them -violently; they rubbed themselves, and went to sleep again. - -Dragging them into the dining room, without a word, they silently set -about their work, fastening shutters and doors. - -“Do you think they are awake?” asked my friend. “Tell them to get you -something.” - -I did so. No response. I repeated the order. They quietly went back, -their work completed, and dropped asleep upon their mats. Fast -stupefied with sleep all the time! - - - - - THE NEWS OF ALL NATIONS. - - - Chickens on Spotted Mule. - -L.E. Richard, of Game, Mo., has a spotted mule that is gentle on all -occasions. During the cold spell Mr. Richard’s dozen chickens have been -roosting on Maud’s back. They do this, it is supposed, to keep their -feet warm. The mule wanders around the premises and doesn’t seem to -be annoyed because the chickens prefer to use him as a roost, and the -chickens appear to enjoy their ride very much. - - - Stood on His Head in a Barrel. - -Major Simon Pratt, a battle-scarred veteran of more bloody fields than -any G.A.R. man in Waldo County, Me., who lost part of an ear, two toes, -and a thumb, came near ending his eventful life in a most unsoldierly -way. Although he is seventy-eight years old and weighs more than 200 -pounds, he is able to be of some help around the place. - -He reached into a barrel to get a hen that had nested in it, and -pitched headfirst. His grandson and a chum, who happened to be near, -were not strong enough to get the major out, but they located a block -and tackle near by and by making a hitch around the veteran’s ankles, -succeeded in hoisting him out. - - - “Me No Clare,” Says Sam. - -When a gas stove exploded in the kitchen of a Chinese restaurant in -Grand Rapids, Mich., a skillet in which a cook was frying four eggs -was hurled a distance of fifteen feet across the room, and the handle -penetrated a wall. After the excitement had died down it was found -that the yolks of the eggs in the skillet were unbroken and the cook, -Sam Gee Lee by name, immediately placed the pan on another blaze and -finished the order. - -When Sam was asked if he wasn’t scared when the stove suddenly shot -toward the ceiling in countless sections, he is said to have replied: - -“Me cookee on big whale slip. Blig glun go bloom—cr-r-r-up—bloom! Me no -clare. Cookee allee samee. No cookee, no mon. Sabe?” - - - “Spook” With Claws Disturbs the Town. - -The people of Ithan, a suburb of Philadelphia, Pa., have appealed to -the Radnor Township police to rid the community of a “queer thing,” -dressed like a woman, which prowls about lonely roads late at night and -chases men. - -Men who have been chased describe the “queer thing” as something very -spooky. They say it wears black clothes, a thick, black veil, and has -clawlike hands. - -Jesse Whitman, who alleges that he was chased one Tuesday night, -described his experience as follows: - -“It was about twelve-five a. m., and I was passing Chandler’s -springhouse on Willis Road when it stepped out from the shadows and -stalked along behind me. When I hurried, it hurried, and when I slowed -up, it slowed up. But it kept getting nearer all the time, and in a -minute I was scared out of a year’s growth. - -“The thing came alongside of me and laid one of its hands on my arm. -It gave a kind of grunt and my hair stood right up straight. It was -then that I started to run, and I kept running for two miles.” - - - Gypsy Queen’s Body Lies Long in State. - -The queen of the gypsies is dead. Lying in a costly mahogany casket, -her body bedecked with jewels and ancient gold coins, it was being -viewed by scores of members of the nomadic tribe. - -Mrs. Callie Mitchell, wife of Emil Mitchell, as the pair are known -in the States, died at Lolita, Ark., and her remains were taken to -Meridian, Miss., to be held until all the wandering nomads might come -to view the body. Hundreds have arrived so far. - -Emil Mitchell, the king of the tribe, came to this country with his -queen from Brazil seventeen years ago, and his followers, about -eighty, were mostly his relatives. All were Brazilian Indians, and -have multiplied numerously since. When the queen died, long-distance -telephone messages and telegrams were sent broadcast to all members of -the tribe, and now many wagons and caravans are hurrying to the place -to see the last of their queen. - -A general council will decide the burial place, which will probably be -Cleveland, Ohio. No expense is being spared by the king to make the -funeral rival anything of its kind ever seen before. A solid mahogany -casket contains her body, which is covered with gold coins and jewels. -It is hoped to get every member of the tribe there in time to view the -body before it is sealed up. - - - Duck Now Acts as Watchman. - -David Adington, of Hilliard, Ky., owns a duck that serves as a -watchdog. The duck was hatched with four legs and soon became a -curiosity. When strangers were in the Adington neighborhood, they would -always visit his place to see the duck. The bird became so sensitive -that whenever it heard any one coming it would run and hide, but -despite its efforts to escape, it was generally caught. - -Then it changed its tactics, and when any one would approach, it would -begin quacking as loud as it could. Now, when any one enters the -back yard at night, the duck can be heard all over the neighborhood. -Adington has refused several nice sums of money for the duck. - - - A Wonderful Bedspread. - -Stitches totaling 178,962,687 were made by Mrs. P.C. Gress, wife of an -Atchison, Kan., physician, in the making of a crocheted bedspread, on -display in a furniture store here. There are 555 squares in the spread, -each requiring 581 stitches. Other stitches necessary amount to 2,162. -It took Mrs. Gress a year to make the spread. - - - Kansas Has New Gas Blower. - -What is claimed to be the greatest gas well ever developed in -Kansas sprang into record in Augusta. The flow is estimated at from -seventy-five to one hundred million cubic feet per day. So great is the -well that when the cap rock of the gas sand was penetrated, the tools -were blown out of the well several hundred feet into the air and the -derrick was demolished. - -The Augusta gas and oil field is being developed rapidly, and to-day it -is second to none in Kansas, and there are over seventy good gas wells, -besides the oil wells which solve the fuel proposition here. - - - Horse Plunges Into Store. - -Frightened when the cutter became stuck in the street car tracks, a -horse driven by Joseph Cone dashed up the sidewalk on the main street, -in Marquette, Mich., stopped in front of Stafford’s drug store, snorted -a couple of times, and plunged through the big plate-glass window in -front of the store. Arriving in the store, he gazed about, showed his -teeth in what looked like a grin, then slowly backed his way out and -returned to the street. The broken window was the only damage resulting -from the episode. - - - Victim of the Bad luck Jinx. - -Life has proven one trouble after another for Lawson A. Dubel, of -Frederick, Md., who believes the bad-luck jinx has followed him more -persistently than any other man in this country. He must undergo an -operation for a growth on his eye. Recently a growth was removed from -the other eye. His other mishaps since childhood have been: Left hand -almost cut off, right arm broken, severely scalded, jaw broken, tramped -upon by a horse and three ribs broken, one ear torn off, and a hole -pierced in his head, left foot nearly cut off, kicked by a horse and -leg broken, pinned beneath a 1,500-pound derrick, and every rib broken -and both hips injured. - - - Boy Kills Panther in Fight. - -Milton Coats, a seventeen-year-old boy, is at a Marked Tree, Ark., -hospital here with a terribly lacerated body, due to a fight he had -with a mammoth panther. - -Young Coats was hunting when the animal leaped from a tree and attacked -him. He fought it, but the wild beast overpowered him. As it sank its -teeth into his body, the boy managed to get out a hunting knife and cut -its throat. - - - Little Child Saves the Home. - -When Police Sergeant Duley, of Tacoma, Wash., answered the telephone at -the Central Station the other night, a baby voice said: “I’s alone. My -papa and mamma is gone, and the stove is turned over. I’s afraid, and I -want you to come out here.” - -The firemen found the smoke pouring from the doors of the home of -Andrew H. Stoltz, which was saved by the presence of mind of his -four-year-old boy. How the little fellow knew the police-station number -is a mystery, said the mother. - - - Girl Saves Drowning Man With Her Auto. - -A young woman of rare presence of mind, an automobile tire, a rope, and -an automobile worked together to save the life of a man who was pulled -out of a deep pond just as he was becoming exhausted. - -Miss Elsie Ditson, of Paterson, N.J., is the heroine of the story, -while William Young, of Jackson’s Mills, is the man in the case. Miss -Ditson was driving her automobile through Cedar Grove, near Caldwell, -N.J., when she passed the pond there and heard the shouts of a man in -distress. - -She unstrapped an extra tire that she carried along, fastened to it a -rope, and then threw the tire to the struggling man in the pond. He -seized it and she tried to pull him out, but was unable to do so. Then -she tied the rope to the automobile and started it slowly away from the -pond. The man, clinging to the rope, was hauled out of the water. Then -Miss Ditson took him in her automobile to the home of her uncle, near -by. He said that he had been skating when the ice broke and threw him -into the water. His efforts to escape were vain, and he was becoming -numb from the cold when his rescuer appeared. - - - His Life Saved by Rubbers. - -Because the sloppy condition of the city’s streets caused him to put -on a heavy pair of rubbers, David Taxin, of Monroe, Mich., is still -living. When he drove over some telephone wires lying on the street -and which were crossed by high-tension wires of the municipal electric -plant, his team of horses dropped dead. Taxin, thinking they had -slipped, got out of the rig and worked over them. Passers-by warned him -he was standing on wires carrying 2,300 volts. - - - Finds Silver Dollar of 1796. - -Elmer Steele, of Lewes, Del., found a United States silver dollar -bearing the date 1796, while digging in sand near the Cape Henlopen -lighthouse. The coin is in excellent condition. - - - Bird Flies Over the Ocean. - -A carrier pigeon dropped from the roof of a building in Wilkes-Barre, -Pa., and Fred Jacobs, who found it, discovered a message tied about the -bird’s neck, which evidently was the message of a German soldier in the -Belgium trenches to his wife. The message read as follows: - - “DEAR WIFE: I am alive and well in the trenches in Belgium, but your - brother has been killed.” - -That was all there was, not even a signature to denote the identity -of the man who wrote this little tragedy of war. The pigeon showed -evidence of long flight, and the injury to the wing seemed to have been -received shortly before the bird was picked up. - -The message was written in English and wrapped in the heading of a -German newspaper, and the date mark of the paper was Saxony, Dec. ——, -the day of the month missing. - - - Interesting New Inventions. - -A new iron-pipe fence post anchors itself as it is driven into the -ground, as the lower end is divided into four sections that separate. - -In a costly watch that has been made for exhibition purposes there -is a wheel that makes a complete revolution only once in four years, -operating a dial that shows the years, months, and days. - -Three different tones can be produced in a new automobile horn by -moving the bulb that supplies it with air to as many angles. - -A valve is fitted to the bottom of a new cooking kettle so that water -may be drained from vegetables without endangering its user. - -A Texas inventor’s hair-drying brush that is heated by electricity is -provided with a screen to prevent it burning the scalp. - -The frame of a new bicycle is made long enough for a package carrier to -be mounted behind the handle bars. - -The latest in the line of collapsible baby carriages folds into a box -resembling a suit case, for carrying. - -A combination of mirror, comb, and identification card to be carried in -a person’s hat has been patented. - - - Scooping ’Em Up by Bushels. - -Edward Ell and John Eifert, of Sayville, L.I., gather clams for a -living. In former days they followed the prosaic method of standing -barefoot in the mud and digging with a spade. But the manner in which -they supply Manhattan restaurants with these popular shellfish at -present is little short of poetry. - -They back their small power boats close to the banks in which the clams -dwell. Then they start the propellers and let them do the dirty work. -Every once in a while they have to reach over and dump a bushel or so -of clams into their boat—but that is unavoidable labor. - -Meantime, they lie on cushions and smoke and read. For perfection only -one thing is lacking—a phonograph to play “This Is the Life,” and -business is getting so good that they threaten to buy one. - -The two fishermen swore before three justices of the peace and -seventeen witnesses that the above story is true. - - - Oldest Person in the World. - -Mrs. Mary Brock, aged 135 years, lives in Shades Valley, and her -grandson, Sam Foley, of Pratt City, Ala., intends to give her a party -in May. That Mrs. Brock is the oldest person in the United States is -generally believed, and possibly the oldest in the world. - -Mrs. Brock, according to a statement of Mr. Foley, was born August 2, -1780, and has lived in Shades Valley a great many years. Mr. Foley -plans to have a birthday celebration at his home in May, and intends to -have Mrs. Brock present. Mrs. Brock retains her faculties fairly well. -Mr. Foley says: - -“Although I have not seen my grandmother in a good many years, at the -same time I hear from her occasionally. She is in good health and -apparently enjoys life in every way. She has spent the major portion of -her life in Shades Valley.” - - - United States Navy Gunner Sets World’s Record. - -William Ruf, a gun pointer on the United States battleship Texas, who -is visiting his home in Beacon, N.Y., on a furlough, has been notified -that he set a new world’s record in marksmanship with the big guns -during the recent practice off the Virginia capes. Ruf made eight -straight hits with a fourteen-inch gun, shooting at a moving target -twelve miles away. - - - Gathers Gold Nuggets in Streets of Town. - -Mrs. Guy Talbott, of Grass Valley, Cal., made fifteen dollars in one -day following a heavy storm by mining in the streets of Grass Valley. -While her husband was working in a quartz mill for two dollars a day, -Mrs. Talbot was picking up nuggets in the street in front of her home. -Other women, many men, and almost all the children of Grass Valley are -now searching the streets for gold. - -The streets of Grass Valley were repaired recently, and “tailings” or -refuse ore from a quartz mine were used in lieu of cobbles. After an -unusually heavy rain, Mrs. Talbott chanced to see a bit of gold lying -exposed in the street. She abandoned housework for the day and picked -up fifteen dollars’ worth. - -Mrs. Talbott tried to keep the secret, but as she could not mine the -streets after dark, it was not long until half the town was out looking -for gold, and finding some, too. - -Grass Valley is not the only city in California paved with gold. From -the records of the city of Marysville it is shown that on August 12, -1851, Mayor S.M. Miles issued a proclamation against “the practice of -doing mining on the main street of Marysville.” - - - Harder Than the Diamond. - -Although the diamond is generally regarded as the hardest of all -substances, tantalum, a rare metal, although not one of the rarest, is -harder. A thin sheet of it was once placed under a diamond drill worked -day and night for three days. The only effect was a slight indentation -in the tantalum and the wearing out of the diamond. - - - Bread-line “Regular” Never Ate Real Meal. - -He has been a “regular” in the bread line at the Immanuel Baptist -Church, of Chicago, Ill., all winter; his clothes were tattered -and threadbare, and his face showed the pinch of hunger. The big -Sunday-school room of this Chicago church was crowded to its limits -with others in similar condition awaiting their turn at the tables, -where bread, butter, and coffee are served every morning from six to -eight-thirty o’clock. - -Doctor Johnston Myers, pastor of the church, and under whose direction -the “line” gets its daily breakfast, called the man to the front of the -room after he had swallowed his half a loaf and his two cups of coffee. - -“I’m an orphan and I’ve never eaten a meal with a family,” he said, in -response to questions by Doctor Myers. “I don’t know who my parents -were, but I was put in a New York orphanage when a baby. There I stayed -until I was twelve years old, when I was sent to a farmer in Canada, to -be held until I was of age. That farmer thought of nothing but how much -work he could get out of me. When my time was up I started to tramp, -and I’ve been at it ever since. - -“I’ve eaten at back doors, free-lunch counters, and even occasionally -at a lunch counter in a restaurant, but I’ve never sat to a table with -a family.” - - - Want Belgian Linen Makers. - -The movement to bring expert linen makers from Belgium to western -Canada, which raises an exceedingly good grade of flax, is gaining -big momentum, and a Belgian priest is now on his way to Europe after -conferring with the Canadian Northern Railway. The making of linen had -been a large and important industry in Belgium before the war, but now -every factory is closed. - -A great many women, as well as men, were employed in the industry, and -the Belgian priest intends to get in touch with the large manufacturers -to induce them to move their plants and bring as many of their old -workmen as they can to western Canada. - -Two points on the Canadian Northern have been under consideration, -both in Saskatchewan and both located in the heart of the finest flax -country in the Dominion. There now is a mill at Rosetown, Sask., which -is in the heart of the Gravelburg district, well known for the quality -and yield of flax. - - - Drives Prison Bus Forty Years. - -Old Jim Cassidy, of New York, who drove the Black Maria laden with -prisoners from the Tombs to police headquarters for years, had his -first collapse a day or two ago. The driver of a patrol wagon did not -move away quickly enough to suit Deputy Sheriff Levy, who shouted to -him. This drew retorts, and old Jim was drawn into the argument. Soon -afterward he keeled over. - -Doctor Cox, from St. Vincent’s Hospital, treated the old man for -syncope, and when he revived, he wanted to get back on the Black Maria, -and drive his prisoners, but his friends forced him into a cab and took -him to his home. - -Except for two years of Sheriff Tamsen’s term, Cassidy has driven the -prison van for nearly forty years. Long before that he was famous the -country over as “Jim Cass,” a wonderful handler of game chickens and -game dogs. - - - Was Not a Very Busy Justice. - -F.P. Reiter has just rounded out twenty-five years as a justice of the -peace of West Rockhill Township, Bucks County, Pa. - -Preparing the chronology of his career as chief dispenser of justice -in the township, the squire learned that he had issued four warrants -and had never sent a case, either civil or criminal, to court in the -quarter century. - - - Death of an Aged Virginian. - -George Little Collier, a well-known and highly respected citizen of -Wise County, Va., has passed away and been laid to rest in the old -burying ground at the head of Powell’s Valley, by the side of his two -wives. - -Mr. Collier was eighty-seven years old. He reared twenty-two children, -and at his death had forty-eight grandchildren and twenty-two -great-grandchildren. - -“Uncle Lite,” as he was familiarly known, moved to Wise County -sixty-three years ago, and previous to that he lived in Lee County. -Thus he spent his entire life in the State of Virginia. When he settled -in his log cabin, at the foot of Powell’s Mountain, bear and deer were -plentiful. Norton at that time was a solid growth of laurel and ivy, -and he could have purchased “Prince’s Flats,” now Norton, for one -dollar per acre. - -Old citizens and travelers will recall the log house at the foot of -Stone Mountain, and the first in sight after a long journey from Wise -Courthouse through the dense thicket over Prince’s flats and across the -little, dark, winding, rough, and rocky road through Little Stone Gap. - - - International Marriages Breed War, She Says. - -The ranks of the newly formed Women’s Peace Party were thrown into -confusion recently when Lady Briggs, widow of Sir John Henry Briggs, -proposed an international law prohibiting international marriages. - -“Such a law,” said Lady Briggs, “would prevent international -complications, and thereby prevent war.” - -Lady Briggs also suggested that the Women’s Peace Party undertake to -bar naturalization of aliens; to revise American histories which she -declared contain untrue accounts of the wars with England, and finally -to expurge “sanguinary” lines in the National anthem, declaring the -English were therein referred to as a band of hirelings and slaves, -whose “blood has washed out their foul footsteps’ pollution.” - -Mrs. Amos Pinchot, president of the New York branch, soothed Lady -Briggs with the statement that few persons really knew to whom the -lines referred, and those who did took them with a grain of salt. - - - Woman Devours Twenty-two Lobsters in Contest. - -A contest in lobster eating, held recently in the Mecca Café, at No. -3550 Broadway, New York City, was won by Mrs. Eleanor Reynolds, of No. -540 West One Hundred and Sixty-Second Street. - -Mrs. Reynolds ate twenty-two lobsters and three loaves of bread. Morton -Ohrback, her rival, ate seventeen lobsters. - - - War Spares United States’ Mails. - -Not one bag of United States mail has been lost through the -activities of the war fleets of the European belligerents. In fact, -post-office-department officials said to-day no American mail had gone -down with a merchantmen destroyed by a warship within the last hundred -years. - -Postmaster General Burleson expects no interference with the mail -service to result from Germany’s sea warzone proclamation. It was -pointed out that the mail steamers are fast vessels, carrying -passengers and but little cargo of the kind belligerents would seek to -destroy. - - - Goes 25,000 Miles to Satisfy Law. - -To inspect a little post office on the far-away island of Guam, which -pays its postmaster $125 a year, is the object of a 25,000-mile journey -which Postal Inspector E.P. Smith is making to satisfy the demands of -the law. The inspection of the office will be the first since 1908. - - - Vincent Astor Orders 2,100 Apple Trees. - -Vincent Astor will soon be the most extensive apple grower in the State -of New York. It became known yesterday that he has placed an order for -2,100 trees, which will be planted on his large estate, Ferncliffe, at -Rhinebeck. - -The order was placed with the Harrison Nursery, of Berlin, Md. - - - Makes Smokeless Coal. - -Alfred Muller, a chemist, of St. Louis, Mo., has announced he has -discovered a process which makes coal absolutely smokeless, gives more -heat, and is consequently cheaper. He has been making the fuel by hand, -and is using it in his home. - - - Picks Indian’s Daughter for Bride. - -Charles Meyer, aged sixty-five, of Valley Stream, N.Y., who advertised -for a wife recently, has picked Mrs. Annie Wilson, daughter of Big -Cloud, chief of the Seneca Indians. - - - A Boy Scout Honored. - -The highest honor a boy scout can win has been conferred on Wayne -Carney, fifteen years old, of Indianapolis. He has been given a scout -honor medal for saving the life of a playmate, Harry Warbington, -thirteen years old. - -The Warbington lad fell into a creek and was sinking when his chum -went to his rescue. Wayne is a manly little chap. Asked if he was a -pretty good swimmer, he said he wasn’t. “But you went after this boy -when he was drowning?” he was reminded. “Sure,” said Wayne. “Anybody -would have done that.” - - - Discipline Saves British from Loss. - -If discipline were not now being maintained in the British army, it -would lose, according to P.M. Neilson, now at the front in France with -the First Lowland Company of Engineers. In a letter received recently -by his sister, Miss Bessie R. Neilson, of Wilkinsburg, Pa., he tells of -several striking instances to show this. - -“The Germans made an attack in the night,” he says, “on the —— -Regiment, which took panic, and nearly all, except two, of their -officers fled. Our twenty, however, under Mr. Clark—one of the -officers—who had retreated a little, came back to a charge. The other -two officers were killed, but our good old Lowland regained the -trenches after very hot work. - -“One of the men left to tell the tale of Ypres says he and a few -others saw the Prussians going around the British wounded, bayoneting -them. They could not stand that, so they charged the Germans, who had -three times as many men. The Germans, as usual, fell back into their -trenches, but the Scotch and English boys pursued them, and then, of -all the cheek in the world! the Germans threw down their arms and -pleaded for mercy. Our fellows simply shot them all down. Their blood -was up. - -“Night before last a bullet passed through a box on which I was -leaning, but I have had few exciting times myself. Two men of a -regiment who tried to desert were killed on the twelfth, after a -court-martial, and if discipline were not now maintained, we would lose. - -“It’s a terrible thing, but I’m afraid it will last a long time. You -have no idea what it is like. Our company, which gets home each night, -is luckier than the infantry. They are in the trenches for days, even -weeks, and some of them don’t know what they are doing. Being there so -long makes them mad. There is no doubt about that. If you want to speak -to them, they just stare at you. They don’t understand. - -“If, at many points, a man is wounded and falls down, he has to lie -there and die in the mud. Should the medical transport come in time, he -will be attended to, but they can only remove the wounded at night, on -account of the enemy. So that if a man gets wounded at daylight he has -to stay where he is until night. - -“Some of our dear old Scotch regiments have been wiped out. The -Black Watch and Camerons have about ninety-four and one hundred and -fifty-eight, respectively, of above one thousand each. They have been -out since the beginning of the war, and it was at Ypres they suffered -so terribly.” - -Although, because of the censor, Mr. Neilson is unable to tell just -where he is, he says the villages have not a single inhabitant. He -describes the beautiful houses, filled with furniture, now occupied by -troops. The people, he adds, will never return. - -“People will tell you the Germans can’t shoot,” he says. “Well, they -have not seen them. They also say one Briton equals three Germans. -There is no difference, and because of their being taught from infancy -regarding militarism, the German is the better of the two. And by -Britons I mean all the Allies. - -“The guns here are booming all day, and an occasional ‘Jack Johnson’ -drops around our billet, which is a mile or so from the actual firing -line.” - -Mr. Neilson continues that the British are bringing to the front only -their best men, and says the troops are now supplied with fur jackets -and warmers, but remarks that because of the heavy boots many leave -them near the trenches, as they can hardly carry themselves, not to -speak of ammunition. Even rifles, too, are thrown down. - -Under date of Sunday, the twenty-fourth, he adds a brief postscript: - -“The French people here won’t allow any one to sing. They say it is a -time of weeping. All France is the same, and everybody, or very nearly -so, is dressed in black. So you see I have not heard any singing since -coming to France. Imagine my surprise when just now—this is what made -me write this extra bit—there burst forth the 100th Psalm. On looking -out, I see it is the Black Watch. Fancy hearing it here! It tones you -up a bit. They are at church parade, and really that is the best music -I have ever heard in all my life, and they are not good singers.” - - - Why Common Powder Smokes. - -Ordinary powder produces smoke when fired because of the quantity of -fine particles formed from the breaking up of the saltpeter and from -some of the charcoal which is not completely burned. - -To get rid of smoke, so long a handicap in the use of guns, it was -necessary to produce a substance that would explode without leaving -any solid residue. This was accomplished by the use of guncotton or -nitrocellulose, from which the most satisfactory smokeless powder is -made. - -The substance is a chemical compound, not a mixture like gunpowder, -and is made by treating cotton with a mixture of nitric and sulphuric -acids. When exploded, it is all converted into gases. Burning is not -necessary to cause an explosion, a mere shock or jar being sufficient. - -It is too violent an explosive to use in small arms or in cannon, but -guncotton can be made into less forceful forms, suitable for use in -guns, and most brands of smokeless powder are made in this way. - - - Bloody Arm His Signal Flag. - -Vernon Wilson, a farm hand, was injured while in the country, near -Glenwood, Iowa, in a peculiar way, and, to get a surgeon, flagged a -fast passenger train with his bloody arm and hand and came to Glenwood. - -Wilson was hurt when he dropped some cartridges from his hand, one -falling on a piece of ice and being discharged. The ball passed through -his arm, inflicting a bad wound. - - - Two Killed in Rail Crash. - -James Maxwell, a locomotive engineer of Des Moines, Iowa, and his -fireman, H.L. Hickok, of the same place, were killed, and Mail Clerk -F.M. Perry, of Waterloo, Iowa, seriously injured in a wreck on the -Chicago Great Western Railroad, three miles north of here. Spreading -rails are believed to have been the cause. All passengers escaped -injury. - - - - - “THE MAGAZINE WITH A PUNCH” - - - TIPTOP SEMI-MONTHLY - - - IT STANDS ALONE - - -If you like rattling good stories about sport, adventure, and about -almost everything in this interesting world, read TIPTOP SEMI-MONTHLY. -It is a magazine with a definite purpose. That purpose is to publish -a semi-monthly magazine that will be read by every youth, and will be -welcomed by fathers and mothers, and by sisters, too. - - - CLEAN—BRACING—GRIPPING - -Buy TIPTOP SEMI-MONTHLY, and you will vow that you never got so much -for ten cents. Why? Because it is written, edited, and published for -_you_, exacting reader. And each issue will be better than the one that -went before. - - - Price Ten Cents - - - Issued on the tenth and twenty-fifth of each month - - - - - The Nick Carter Stories - - ISSUED EVERY SATURDAY BEAUTIFUL COLORED COVERS - - -When it comes to detective stories worth while, the =Nick Carter -Stories= contain the only ones that should be considered. They are not -overdrawn tales of bloodshed. They rather show the working of one of -the finest minds ever conceived by a writer. The name of Nick Carter is -familiar all over the world, for the stories of his adventures may be -read in twenty languages. No other stories have withstood the severe -test of time so well as those contained in the =Nick Carter Stories=. -It proves conclusively that they are the best. We give herewith a list -of some of the back numbers in print. You can have your news dealer -order them, or they will be sent direct by the publishers to any -address upon receipt of the price in money or postage stamps. - - 704—Written in Red. - 707—Rogues of the Air. - 709—The Bolt from the Blue. - 710—The Stockbridge Affair. - 711—A Secret from the Past. - 712—Playing the Last Hand. - 713—A Slick Article. - 714—The Taxicab Riddle. - 715—The Knife Thrower. - 717—The Master Rogue’s Alibi. - 719—The Dead Letter. - 720—The Allerton Millions. - 728—The Mummy’s Head. - 729—The Statue Clue. - 730—The Torn Card. - 731—Under Desperation’s Spur. - 732—The Connecting Link. - 733—The Abduction Syndicate. - 736—The Toils of a Siren. - 737—The Mark of a Circle. - 738—A Plot Within a Plot. - 739—The Dead Accomplice. - 741—The Green Scarab. - 743—A Shot in the Dark. - 746—The Secret Entrance. - 747—The Cavern Mystery. - 748—The Disappearing Fortune. - 749—A Voice from the Past. - 752—The Spider’s Web. - 753—The Man With a Crutch. - 754—The Rajah’s Regalia. - 755—Saved from Death. - 756—The Man Inside. - 757—Out for Vengeance. - 758—The Poisons of Exili. - 759—The Antique Vial. - 760—The House of Slumber. - 761—A Double Identity. - 762—“The Mocker’s” Stratagem. - 763—The Man that Came Back. - 764—The Tracks in the Snow. - 765—The Babbington Case. - 766—The Masters of Millions. - 767—The Blue Stain. - 768—The Lost Clew. - 770—The Turn of a Card. - 771—A Message in the Dust. - 772—A Royal Flush. - 774—The Great Buddha Beryl. - 775—The Vanishing Heiress. - 776—The Unfinished Letter. - 777—A Difficult Trail. - 778—A Six-word Puzzle. - 782—A Woman’s Stratagem. - 783—The Cliff Castle Affair. - 784—A Prisoner of the Tomb. - 785—A Resourceful Foe. - 786—The Heir of Dr. Quartz. - 787—Dr. Quartz, the Second. - 789—The Great Hotel Tragedies. - 790—Zanoni, the Witch. - 791—A Vengeful Sorceress. - 794—Doctor Quartz’s Last Play. - 795—Zanoni, the Transfigured. - 796—The Lure of Gold. - 797—The Man With a Chest. - 798—A Shadowed Life. - 799—The Secret Agent. - 800—A Plot for a Crown. - 801—The Red Button. - 802—Up Against It. - 803—The Gold Certificate. - 804—Jack Wise’s Hurry Call. - 805—Nick Carter’s Ocean Chase. - 806—Nick Carter and the Broken Dagger. - 807—Nick Carter’s Advertisement. - 808—The Kregoff Necklace. - 809—The Footprints on the Rug. - 810—The Copper Cylinder. - 811—Nick Carter and the Nihilists. - 812—Nick Carter and the Convict Gang. - 813—Nick Carter and the Guilty Governor. - 814—The Triangled Coin. - 815—Ninety-nine—and One. - 816—Coin Number 77. - 817—In the Canadian Wilds. - 818—The Niagara Smugglers. - 819—The Man Hunt. - - - NEW SERIES - - NICK CARTER STORIES - - 1—The Man from Nowhere. - 2—The Face at the Window. - 3—A Fight for a Million. - 4—Nick Carter’s Land Office. - 5—Nick Carter and the Professor. - 6—Nick Carter as a Mill Hand. - 7—A Single Clew. - 8—The Emerald Snake. - 9—The Currie Outfit. - 10—Nick Carter and the Kidnapped Heiress. - 11—Nick Carter Strikes Oil. - 12—Nick Carter’s Hunt for a Treasure. - 13—A Mystery of the Highway. - 14—The Silent Passenger. - 15—Jack Dreen’s Secret. - 16—Nick Carter’s Pipe Line Case. - 17—Nick Carter and the Gold Thieves. - 18—Nick Carter’s Auto Chase. - 19—The Corrigan Inheritance. - 20—The Keen Eye of Denton. - 21—The Spider’s Parlor. - 22—Nick Carter’s Quick Guess. - 23—Nick Carter and the Murderess. - 24—Nick Carter and the Pay Car. - 25—The Stolen Antique. - 26—The Crook League. - 27—An English Cracksman. - 28—Nick Carter’s Still Hunt. - 29—Nick Carter’s Electric Shock. - 30—Nick Carter and the Stolen Duchess. - 31—The Purple Spot. - 32—The Stolen Groom. - 33—The Inverted Cross. - 34—Nick Carter and Keno McCall. - 35—Nick Carter’s Death Trap. - 36—Nick Carter’s Siamese Puzzle. - 37—The Man Outside. - 38—The Death Chamber. - 39—The Wind and the Wire. - 40—Nick Carter’s Three Cornered Chase. - 41—Dazaar, the Arch-Fiend. - 42—The Queen of the Seven. - 43—Crossed Wires. - 44—A Crimson Clew. - 45—The Third Man. - 46—The Sign of the Dagger. - 47—The Devil Worshipers. - 48—The Cross of Daggers. - 49—At Risk of Life. - 50—The Deeper Game. - 51—The Code Message. - 52—The Last of the Seven. - 53—Ten-Ichi, the Wonderful. - 54—The Secret Order of Associated Crooks. - 55—The Golden Hair Clew. - 56—Back From the Dead. - 57—Through Dark Ways. - 58—When Aces Were Trumps. - 59—The Gambler’s Last Hand. - 60—The Murder at Linden Fells. - 61—A Game for Millions. - 62—Under Cover. - 63—The Last Call. - 64—Mercedes Danton’s Double. - 65—The Millionaire’s Nemesis. - 66—A Princess of the Underworld. - 67—The Crook’s Blind. - 68—The Fatal Hour. - 69—Blood Money. - 70—A Queen of Her Kind. - 71—Isabel Benton’s Trump Card. - 72—A Princess of Hades. - 73—A Prince of Plotters. - 74—The Crook’s Double. - 75—For Life and Honor. - 76—A Compact With Dazaar. - 77—In the Shadow of Dazaar. - 78—The Crime of a Money King. - 79—Birds of Prey. - 80—The Unknown Dead. - 81—The Severed Hand. - 82—The Terrible Game of Millions. - 83—A Dead Man’s Power. - 84—The Secrets of an Old House. - 85—The Wolf Within. - 86—The Yellow Coupon. - 87—In the Toils. - 88—The Stolen Radium. - 89—A Crime in Paradise. - 90—Behind Prison Bars. - 91—The Blind Man’s Daughter. - 92—On the Brink of Ruin. - 93—Letter of Fire. - 94—The $100,000 Kiss. - 95—Outlaws of the Militia. - 96—The Opium-Runners. - 97—In Record Time. - 98—The Wag-Nuk Clew. - 99—The Middle Link. - 100—The Crystal Maze. - 101—A New Serpent in Eden. - 102—The Auburn Sensation. - 103—A Dying Chance. - 104—The Gargoni Girdle. - 105—Twice in Jeopardy. - 106—The Ghost Launch. - 107—Up in the Air. - 108—The Girl Prisoner. - 109—The Red Plague. - 110—The Arson Trust. - 111—The King of the Firebugs. - 112—“Lifter’s” of the Lofts. - 113—French Jimmie and His Forty Thieves. - 114—The Death Plot. - 115—The Evil Formula. - 116—The Blue Button. - 117—The Deadly Parallel. - 118—The Vivisectionists. - 119—The Stolen Brain. - 120—An Uncanny Revenge. - 121—The Call of Death. - 122—The Suicide. - 123—Half a Million Ransom. - 124—The Girl Kidnapper. - 125—The Pirate Yacht. - 126—The Crime of the White Hand. - 127—Found in the Jungle. - 128—Six Men in a Loop. Dated February 27th, 1915. - 129—The Jewels of Wat Chang. Dated March 6th, 1915. - 130—The Crime in the Tower. Dated March 13th, 1915. - 131—The Fatal Message. Dated March 20th, 1915. - 132—Broken Bars. - - -=PRICE, FIVE CENTS PER COPY.= If you want any back numbers of our -weeklies and cannot procure them from your news dealer, they can be -obtained direct from this office. Postage stamps taken the same as -money. - - - STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79-89 Seventh Ave., NEW YORK CITY - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STRAIGHT TO THE GOAL; *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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